#i have been saying the same thing for a while now and i hate myself for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanessagillings · 27 days

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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

#autism acceptance day #actually autistic

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luv4kozume · 2 months

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🍯 𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 — CHRIS STURNIOLO

Chris x Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, pet names (baby, ma), safe word (not used), blindfold, oral f!receiving, fingering, praise, use of sex toy (vibrator), missionary, overstimulation, multiple f!orgasms, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, established relationship. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which Chris finds a box of your sex toys while cleaning your room.

Word Count: 4,697

💋 — Requested: “can u do one where chris finds the readers vibrator in her room and he asks her ab if and then they have sex and he used the vibrator and make it super freaky yk”

💋 — Requested: “hiyaa!! i was wondering if u could write something where matt/chris overstimulate the reader”

a/n: I combined two requests for this one teehee.

The vibrator in this is based off the magic wand plus with four settings (not me exposing myself, bye). I may or may not have had a little bit too much fun w this request!? 😨

Served up real freaky as requested, ENJOY BABIES!!! 💞

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

A thrawt sigh fell from your lips as your fingers clicked against the keyboard. You sat in bed, your back pressed into the pillows and your knees up with your laptop resting in your lap.

You had already been pushing off this assignment for the past week and was dangerously close to the deadline. You were trying so desperately to get done with this paper as your boyfriend, Chris, sat across the room.

He sat hunched over in his gaming chair, caught in a trance in front of his PC. The sleeves of his orange hoodie draping around his arms as his fingers moved rapidly against the controller. His eyes scanning back and forth on the screen and tongue poking out in concentration.

“No! You’re fucking trash!!” He screeched into the mic of his headset, causing you to jump.

You were already overwhelmed and his constant screaming and hollering was not making it any better.

To be fair, he did ask you beforehand if you would mind if he played the game while you did your assignment. At the time the gesture seemed sweet and endearing, and you didn’t mind having him in the same room. But now you were beginning to regret it.

Even though he was irritating you, you still wanted him here with you. But you couldn’t help it when another frustrated sigh slipped out. You could feel your temples pounding as you massaged them with the tips of your fingers.

Chris’ eyes flicked over towards the corner of his PC, seeing just a bit of you through the reflection of the screen. He muted his mic and took off his headset, letting it rest on the back of neck before spinning the chair around to face you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, in a much more relaxed tone than before.

“Nothing.” You reply, still trying to rub away that pounding headache of yours. “Just frustrated. And you’re so loud.”

He felt awful, he hadn’t even realized how disruptive he had been. The chair squeaked a bit as he rose up from it, leaving his headset and controller on the desk before making his way towards the bed.

You watched as he nearly tripped over the many clothes that scattered the floor. The bedroom had been a mess for the past week and it was driving you crazy. You just hadn’t had the time or motivation to tidy up and that may have been another reason why you felt so overwhelmed.

The mattress moved a bit as he sat on the edge of the bed, his palm wrapping around your knee in a loving manner before looking up into your tired eyes.

“Go take a shower, I got it.” He says in almost a whisper, nodding his head towards the door.

“Got what?” You ask raising a brow, he only cleaned up whenever you suggested him to.

“The room. I know you hate it when things are a mess so just chill out. I got it.” Chris repeated, a dumb smirk growing on his face at your unamused expression.

“Okay.” You huff out, shutting off your computer and placing it in the center of the bed before hopping out. “Thank you.”

“You don’t gotta thank me.” He replied, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

*ೃ༄

The sound of the shower running had faded into the background as Chris started gathering piles of clothes from the floor. Making two separate stacks to decide what was dirty and clean.

He had made a mental goal for himself to get finished with everything by the time you get out of the shower. That way, you’d be able to fully relax. He even shut off his game.

It only took a few more minutes to finally get rid of all the clothes, which thankfully was the bulk of the mess. There was concerning amount of empty pepsi cans laying around his side of the bedroom, so he quickly gathered those and took them to the trash.

Once he returned back in the room, he checked under the bed to make sure that there weren’t any more soda cans that may have rolled under— he knew how much that drove you crazy and didn’t want to get you worked up anymore tonight.

Luckily, there weren’t any but there was something out of the ordinary that caught his attention.

“Huh?” He voiced aloud, focusing his eyes on the small pink box he had never seen before. Curiously, he grabbed onto it and slid it against the carpet towards him.

He sat on the floor with his legs crossed, the box laying in his lap. He took a peek just above the bed at the open door to make sure you weren’t in sight to see him snooping through your things. He knew how embarrassed you’d be if you were to find out.

He had just assumed it was just ordinary girly things like makeup or more clothes. But why did you have it tucked away under your bed?

His fingers grazed over the lid before finally opening it, his eyes widening at the lewd sight in front of him. He certainly wasn’t expecting that.

In the box laid a large blue and white vibrator with three small buttons on the side. It came with a charger that was laying right next to it, along with a pink, silk blindfold.

His heart raced in his chest at the many thoughts running through his mind. All he could think about was the way you could’ve used this on yourself. How you would squirm against the sheets, your face twisting up in pleasure as you pressed the toy against your clit.

An idea about tag teaming you with it consumed those thoughts. He wondered if you would be able to handle both—him and the toy—at the same time.

How you’d look and sound with your vision impaired, the vibrator pressed against you, and his dick ramming into you at a brutal pace. He thought about all the possible positions he could get you in, how your voice would begin to crack after he made you cum over and over again, how you—

“I’m starting to feel so much better!” You beamed, clutching your white bath towel up to your chest. But you don’t see Chris right away, you could hear something shut close and your boyfriend instantly shot up from the floor with his arms behind his back.

“Hey.” Chris spoke, a devious smile tugging at his lips. He tried his best to sound nonchalant but that grin on his face was a dead give away that something was up.

“Hi?” You giggle, pulling out a drawer from the dresser to get some clothes to change in.

He walks over towards you, still keeping his hands behind his back, as he shuts the drawer closed with his knee.

“What, weirdo.” You joke, looking up into his eyes.

“You just won’t be needing clothes. That’s all.” He shrugged.

“And why is that?” You ask, crossing your arms together. Assuming that it has something to do whatever he was hiding.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied, finally revealing the mystery to you.

Your mouth fell open and your ears grew hot, seeing your vibrator in one hand and a silk blindfold in the other. You hadn’t used either of them since you and Chris got together. In fact, you almost forgotten about them since you had them tucked away.

“Chris!” You squeal, a wave of embarrassment rushing through you. You reached out, trying to yank it away from him but you were left unsuccessful when he had it raised just above your head.

“When’s the last time you used it?” He asks, ignoring your pouting.

“I don’t remember, it’s been a while.” You huff out, adjusting your towel back up to your chest.

“Well, what do you think about using it right now?” He suggested with a smirk.

You felt like your knees were going to give out just by his simple question. You already knew exactly what he meant but you couldn’t form the right words to respond. He searched your eyes for an answer and to him, the message they were sending was blatantly clear.

You watched as he tossed the toys at the foot of the bed. Two strong hands slipped around your waist, pulling you in towards him. His fingers dug into the creases the fuzzy towel made around your figure as he pressed his lips against yours.

Your brows furrowed together, whimpering at how Chris hungrily kissed you. His tongue slipping past the plumpness of your lips to get a taste of your own. Your arms reached up around his neck, lazily draping them around his body, allowing your towel to drop around your ankles.

He only groaned into the kiss, blood rushing towards his dick knowing that you were completely nude. His hands slithered down your curves to cup your ass.

You whimpered at this, a bit of saliva trickled down your chin as his tongue swirled against yours in a way that set your body ablaze.

Your hands slid down past his chest and rested on his biceps, entangling your fingers into the soft, thick fabric of his hoodie. You gave a slight tug at his clothing, telling him that you wanted to take this to the bed so that you wouldn’t have to pull away from his lips.

You feel his grin grow on his face, letting out a low chuckle before uttering the word, “Up.”

You let out whine, jumping up from the floor and into his grasp. Scooping you up by the bottoms of your thighs and pressing your body up against his so that your stomach was flushed with his own.

The kiss now turned into a sloppy mess as you tilted your head in the opposite direction of his. Your teeth clashing together and the sounds of them smacking bounced off the walls— eliciting even more delicious groans from him that made your core tingle with excitement.

His feet dragged against the carpet as he slowly carried you over to the bed, not daring to pull away from your lips in the process. The bed frame creaked as the two of you adjusted against the mattress.

Your fingertips grazed just over his stubble, pulling him in closer as your legs fell open. Allowing for his hips to rest in between them. He swallowed each whine that escaped past your lips as he shamelessly rutted his bulge against your bare pussy. Your arousal staining the fabric of his grey sweats.

He earned another whine from you once he finally pulled away, rising up between your legs. Your chest heaved as you watched his fingers loop underneath the hem of his hoodie, tugging it up over his head and tossing it to the floor.

His black tee raising up just a bit, getting a good glimpse of the happy trail that decorated his toned stomach before falling back down. His silver chain glittering in the dim lighting the lamp illuminated in the bedroom. He saw the hungry look in your eyes, subconsciously asking him for more.

“Want this off too, ma?” He taunts, pulling at the bottom of his shirt only to leave you a flustered mess.

He already knew the answer before you gave him a cute nod, already pulling away at his clothing and letting it join his hoodie on the floor.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, seeing his hand grab hold of the small piece of silk and bringing it up to your face. You already knew what he was going to do, your arms bent so that you could prop yourself up by your elbows. This allowed him to stretch the elastic band over your head, bringing the silk down to your forehead.

“You can tell me when you want it off, okay? You know the word.” He reassured, before bringing the blindfold down over your eyes.

“Okay.” You reply, adjusting yourself back into the mattress.

Your mouth fell open just slightly and your hands balled up into weak, shy fists as they rested on your chest. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in every part of your body, nervously waiting for Chris’ next move.

Your hips buck up from the bed when you felt both of his warm hands wrap around your waist. Usually you weren’t this animated when your boyfriend touched you, but now that one of your senses had been hindered, it made every touch seem much more than it actually was. If this is how you reacted with just his hands on you how would you react to the vibrator?

His hair gently brushed against your skin as he peppered tender kisses into your stomach. You wiggled into his grasp, your arms naturally falling against your sides, allowing his head to come up further to press kisses into your chest.

You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling him cup your breasts and squeeze them together. Butterflies filling your stomach as you felt his clothed dick press into your core once again. You could feel your cheeks and ears growing hot from all the intensity.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, baby. You know how much I love ‘em.” Chris coaxed against your skin before wrapping his lips around your nipple.

Your brows knitted together and your teeth let go of your lips, allowing a faint whimper to slip out. His chain pressing into your skin as his stomach was flushed with yours. He groaned against the plushness of your skin, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, arching your back up from the bed.

Your palms flattened against his shoulder. A low vibration coursed through you as Chris hummed against your skin, loving the way your nails sank down into his flesh. Your hips squirmed underneath him, desperately trying to get that sweet relief of friction down below. It was like an itch you just couldn’t scratch.

You heard a slight popping sound once he released from your nipple, only to show the next one the same amount of attention.

His fingers pressed into the already wet, sensitive bud. Gently rolling it between his fingertips as his tongue flicked against the other.

His cock twitched against the constricting fabric of his boxers as a series of whines slipped past your lips. He loved being the cause of them and couldn’t wait to pull even more out of you.

Another popping sound came, you sighed feeling the warmth of his damp lips now pressing into your hot skin. Leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from your ribcage down to your waist. His thumbs tracing circles into your hips and a few soft strands of his hair tickled against you as his head slowly inched its way between your legs.

Two strong hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, slowly prying them open to leave you whimpering at how exposed you felt. Your heart pounded in your ears as you tried to prepare yourself for what was about to come, but Chris moved at a terribly slow pace that made it nearly impossible to predict what he was going to do next.

Was he going to use his tongue or perhaps his fingers? Or shit, maybe he’d start right off with the vibrator. All those thoughts fogged up your mind and you couldn’t tell if your face was hot with embarrassment or excitement.

Either way, all those thoughts came to an end once he finally gave you what you craved the most— direct contact.

His name slipped out in a sharp gasp when you felt his tongue flatten against your clit. He licked a stripe on it before pulling away with a smirk, humming in amusement over how worked up you were getting from just his tongue. Perhaps he should blindfold you more often.

Your fingers clenched onto the sheets, feeling his tongue start from your slick entrance. He made sure to gather each drop of your sweet juices before bringing his mouth back up to your puffy clit.

“Fuck.” You sighed, your legs quivering around his head. Your toes started to curl in and your back raised up from the mattress as he stayed latched onto your cunt as if his life depended on it.

Your arousal had already saturated his lips, dripping down his chin and soaking into the satin sheets. His grip remained strong around your hips, reducing the amount of wiggling you could do.

His prickly stubble brushed against your thighs as the sound of his lips smacking filled your ears. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach from all the lewd sounds that came from him, being sure to soak up everything in this moment.

Your fingers made their way towards his hair, combing through his locks before slightly tugging at his scalp. Eliciting a low grunt from him that sent pleasing vibrations into your core.

You whimpered as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach start to build up, a telltale sign that you were fairly close. Chris is also aware of the fact, knowing how your voice tends to get higher as you approach your high.

“Chris..” You plea, rustling against the sheets. “Baby, I’m close..”

His eyes flicked up to you, although you can’t see him, he couldn’t help but look up at you. Your lips poking out in a needy pout, your brows furrowing together, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving— so sweet and angelic as you were slowly beginning to unravel right before his eyes.

“Come on, let go for me.” He uttered against your flesh before diving right back in and attacking your most sensitive bit.

“Oh, shit.” You cry, tossing your head back into the pillows, your whole body now levitating off the mattress. The elastic band of your orgasm now snapped after hearing his melodic words of confirmation.

His tight grip around you loosened just a bit giving you the opportunity to smush his face in between your thighs. His cheeks glowing a rosy hue as his nostrils flared against you, his tongue remained glued to your clit as you rode out your high.

Your body melted back into the sheets and your legs slowly fell back open. You exhaled a sigh as you were starting to catch your breath, only to let out a sharp gasp once you felt a sudden feeling of stimulation.

Your clit twitched against his lips as he pressed a kiss into your folds, his face now glistening in the dim lighting just as much as your pussy. A timid, shaky hand raised up to push his head away, a low conniving chuckle soon followed.

“It’s sensitive..” You whined, attempting to close your legs.

“You don’t think I can get one more out of you?” He asked in a taunting voice. His large hands roaming all over your body, sending a shiver down your spine. “Please baby, for me?”

“But—“ You start to protest, only to be cut off.

His hips made their way back in between your legs, he leaned in towards you so that his stomach was now flushed with yours. You could feel his chain dangling just over your breasts as he lowered himself down, various strands of hair now brushing against your cheek as he peppered kisses into the nape of your neck.

“You know the word when it’s too much.” He coaxed in your ear, his kisses now getting lower as his hand slithered down last your stomach.

“Chris!” You gasped, feeling the pads of his fingers press into your swollen clit. He wasted no time massaging quick yet gentle circles into your sensitivity.

“Gotta make sure you’re nice and wet for my cock, yeah?” He groaned, his fingers sliding down your slick folds, making sure to coat them up good with your juices before daring to slip inside your entrance.

Your arms draped around his neck, nails digging into his back as his lips were now pressing kisses into your cheek, slowly inching them towards the corner of your mouth and then finally your lips.

Your tongue intermingled with his own as his fingers slowly pressed their way inside, dipping deep into your wetness. Chris swallowed your moans as he started pumping the two digits inside you. Your moist, spongy walls hugged around him just right, it had his cock weeping in his boxers to be set free.

“Squeezing around me so.. fucking.. nice.” He groaned against your lips in between smacks. “Can’t wait to fill that pussy up with my dick, you’d like that, huh? Fuck you full of my cum?”

Before you could give him an answer, all of the pleasure and warmth was gone. You whined loudly in frustration, bucking your hips up into the air, desperate for more. You were working up another orgasm only for it to be snatched away in a blink of an eye.

“Be patient, baby.” He chuckles at your pathetic pouting. All you could hear was the bed frame squeaking and the weight shifting in the bed, you assumed he was getting up. “All good things come in time.”

A clicking noise soon followed that, then the sheets rustled as his knees sank back down into the mattress. You didn’t know this of course, but he had the biggest grin plastered across his face knowing that he had the upper hand in the situation— perhaps he was enjoying this a little too much.

His grey sweats and boxers were now scattered on the floor, his neglected cock rising up to his stomach, twitching at the wondrous sight in front of him. The vibrator sat up in his dominate hand as the other slowly pried your legs back open.

A low whimper escaped past your lips, feeling the head of the vibrator press against you. Chris ran the silicone along your wet folds before finally bringing it back up to your aching clit. His free hand pressed into the back of your thigh, his thumb massaging into your plush skin.

“Oh, fuck..” You whined, your body curled up towards him as he clicked one of the blue buttons on.

The toy giving off a low yet pleasing sensation that traveled all throughout your body as he pressed the toy further into your core. That same devious grin remained on his face, growing bigger by the second as he watched you squirm about. Making the weakest attempts to wiggle away from the overstimulation.

“Don’t run away, now. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” He whispered, his free hand forcing your hips down in place. His thumb tauntingly brushed over the button just before raising the setting up to two.

Your legs now shaking and your bottom lip was tucked behind your teeth, trying your best to contain yourself but Chris made it terribly difficult.

“Have you ever made it to four?” He asked, keeping the silicone head right on your clit, occasionally pressing deeper into you to give you that extra pressure. Your hips stuttered in his grasp each time he did so.

You could hardly withstand the intensity of the second setting, you couldn’t possibly imagine attempting the fourth. Shit, you haven’t even experienced the third.

Your jaw fell open, attempting to give him an answer but your mind was all fogged up. Broken moans slipped out between each incoherent word, leaving you trembling in embarrassment when you heard Chris laugh.

“You can work up to it, baby. Don’t worry.” He cooed.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the bed shifted, the vibrator rocking into your cunt as he adjusted himself in the bed. His fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, slowly bringing it up to the toy.

“Gonna be good for me and hold it up?” He says, finally passing it over to you once you replied with a feverish nod.

You whimpered as your fingers grazed his, grabbing a hold of the vibrator. Your breathing slowed just a bit as you had gotten used to the sensation by now.

That was until another clicking sound came and you nearly screamed feeling the toy rise to the third setting.

Both of your hands now wrapped around it’s handle as your entire body trembled. You were so close to letting the safe word slip out.

Despite the overwhelming amounts of pleasure coursing through you, deep down you knew that the last thing you wanted was for it to end.

“Atta girl, you’re doing so good.” Chris purred with a smirk.

His fingers wrapped around the base of his member, slowly pumping it before aligning his tip with your sopping wet entrance. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as he teasingly ran his head against your folds, making sure to lather his cock in your juices before finally slipping himself inside.

“Fuck, fuck..” You whined, feeling your second orgasm quickly creeping up on you.

A low groan slipped past the brunette’s lips, his chin dropping down to his chest as your plush walls hugged around him in all the right ways. His fingers dug into your thighs, pushing your legs up further to your chest, causing your tits to squeeze together.

The new angle allowed him to press his way into you deeper. Your back arched as you felt his girth stretching you out, his head kissing that sweet, sensitive area inside you that made your toes curl and voice hoarse.

“Squeezing the life outta me, s-shit.” He stuttered, wasting no time ramming his pelvis into your hips.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, your breathing quickening and your voice now raspy from how much you’ve been crying. Your clit ached against the vibrator, not knowing how much more you could take— but still refusing to say that word.

His eyes flicked down to your hands, your grip so tight on the handle that your knuckles changed color. He couldn’t hold back his laugh as he gazed at the button, so tempted to see how you’d react to the highest setting.

As much as he’d love to prolong this little session, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Especially with you clenching around him so tight, his veins twitched along your walls as his orgasm crept up on him too.

Click!

“Chris! No, no, no..” You squealed, at the sudden change of speed. The new sensation too much to bare and had you cumming in an instant, your juices spraying all over the toy and Chris.

You dropped the toy, attempting to catch your breath but Chris kept on going. His thrusts were quicker and much more sloppy now.

He raised up your silk blindfold with a pinch, locking his eyes into your glossy ones. His hands now back on your hips, raising you up from the mattress as he pounded into you, showing you no mercy.

The sight was nearly enough to send him over the edge. Your bouncing tits, your strained voice, the erotic sound of your wetness. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he peered down at your core, amazed at how much you came. He really got a kick out of watching himself stuffing you full of his cock.

Your hands wrapped around his for leverage before hiccuping a quiet, “Hurry..” warning him that you were close to tapping out and calling it quits.

Luckily for him, it wasn’t long before he finally came, his hot seed spilling out into you— filling you up to the brim. You chanted his name like it was prayer, your brain unable to think of anything else other than him and his dick.

His body collapsed on top of you, his lips lazily kissing away at your pouty ones. His cock still inside you, twitching about as your thumbs traced along his rough stubble.

After a few moments had passed, he finally pulled out with a sigh, leaving you whining from sensitivity. The sheets were soaked with cum and your bodies were both a sweaty and sticky mess.

“Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?” Chris said, carrying you out of bed and towards the bathroom.

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entirelytoooobsessed · 2 months

Text

needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post

synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.

warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it

The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.

What a delightful feeling.

What a human desire.

“Touch me.”

The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind.

“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return.

“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.

“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is.

“Your name?” You mutter slowly.

“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.

Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you.

You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.

You don’t mind now.

“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back.

He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”

His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.

The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands.

With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?

“Hmm? Just what?”

He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you.

You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.

But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.

Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.

Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before.

Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.

But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.

He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.

You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.

“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.

“No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off. “No, n-no, don’t wan’you to leave…”

You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”

He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.

You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper.

“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”

You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth.

You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.

The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.

A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.

Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.

“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~”

His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.

Perhaps…

“Kiss me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”

He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.

“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“You know we can’t. You-“

“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”

A losing fucking battle.

Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight.

All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.

And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.

He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein.

It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips.

He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using.

Just like he told you to do.

He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises.

You’d show him what real ascension felt like.

You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.

To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.

You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting.

He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”

You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin.

And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.

In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.

Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat.

He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.

But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.

So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.

Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.

Like he wants you to.

He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down.

Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced.

He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.

And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.

He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.

He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.

For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.

But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.

Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.

But he stops you.

His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.

Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.

"I promise, I will."

And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.

Just you.

"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."

He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.

But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.

To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.

His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.

"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."

He always has been one for dramatics.

His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.

"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.

He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

And he's crying. And he's beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.

"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"

You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours.

"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.

“Satoru,” And he shakes.

“Satoru,” And he sobs.

“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.

“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.

Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.

Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.

Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.

Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.

"You love me right?"

You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.

But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.

"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.

"Do you love me?"

You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.

"I do love you Satoru."

And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.

But that doesn't matter.

Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.

"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.

And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.

“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”

“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”

You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”

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wolken-himmel · 9 months

Text

In which (Y/n) finds a doll that bears a strange resemblance to Vil. The two enjoy some tea until Ace and Deuce show up to cause some ruckus.

The doll turns out to be the real Vil when (Y/n) accidentally kisses it.

Requested by @akemiozawa.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing?"

You turned your gaze to the door of the Ramshackle living door as if you had been caught red-handed at the crime scene. Your eyes fell on none other than Ace and Deuce, whose gazes were trained at the blond doll seated across from you. They continued to stare at the two cups of tea on the coffee table, a steaming pot in between them.

"Having afternoon tea with my friend," you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ignoring their presence, you took another sip from your cup.

Ace stared at the doll owlishly, then he broke out into laughter. "That's a doll, (Y/n)," he wheezed and almost doubled over.

"Shut up," you said with a roll of your eyes. "Don't hurt Vil's feelings like that."

Your words prompted the most confusion-laced gaze you had ever received from Deuce. "I hate to break it to you, (Y/n). But that's not Vil. That's a doll." The blue-haired boy hesitated for a moment as his eyes scanned the doll curiously. He quirked an eyebrow in realisation. "Although... that doll does look a lot like Vil. Did you make it yourself?"

The doll possessed the same brilliant blond hair with purplish tips that the Pomefiore dorm leader was known for. And its eyes were a soft lavender hue, too. But what was most unnerving was the way the doll carried itself: It possessed the same confidence and elegance that Vil himself exuded. Shoulders not slouched at all and with its chin raised high, the doll seemed to look down upon Ace and Deuce.

"I found the doll in one of the classrooms," you explained fondly. "And since Vil is too busy to spend time with me like always, I've decided to entertain myself with this mini-version of him. He has quite grown on me. So adorable and soft!"

"I've always found dolls creepy..." Deuce began to shudder, averting his gaze from the doll.

Slowly but surely, Ace's lips morphed into a smug grin. The red-head crossed his arms and began snickering. "You take better care of that doll than of Grim."

"That's not true!" An offended huff escaped your lips. "I just sometimes need a break from Grim," you murmured under your breath. Then you took another sip from your cup, planning to ignore the two troublemakers for now. You still had hopes to have a lovely time with the doll Vil.

Yet your plans were thrown out of the window when Ace suddenly let out a frightened shriek. "Ew! The doll just bit me!" he yelled in fear and, unable to stop his reflexes, threw the doll at the wall.

An unimpressed frown appeared on Deuce's face as he watched his scared friend. "Dolls can't bite, Ace..."

"No, really. It bit me," Ace insisted, trembling. "Are you sure it's just a regular doll, (Y/n)?"

"Now that you say it, Ace... The doll does emit a strange aura of magic," his blue-haired friend muttered after a while.

The doll lay motionlessly on the ground after having been thrown at the wall. Although it faced the ground, the doll seemed to be at least in one piece and without any other notable damage. You immediately rushed over to the doll and picked it up into your arms like a worried mother hen.

"Stop throwing around my little boy like that!" you yelled at the two Heartslabyul students. Meanwhile, you cradled the doll in your arms. "Come now, Vil. You're okay. I'll protect you."

"Stop coddling that cursed doll!" Ace sneered, trying to hide his fear.

A soft sigh escaped your lips while you ran your fingers through the doll's silky hair. Within a few seconds, the doll looked like new. But still, its expression seemed to have morphed into an angry scowl when before, it was a confident smile. "Did your face hit the wall when Ace threw you?" you asked as you noticed the doll's sour expression. "My poor baby, come on... I'll kiss it better..."

You carefully brought the doll to your eye-level. Your two friends were about to call you a freak for kissing a doll, but as your lips made contact with the porcelain of the doll, you felt its small body shift and twist into something else. Your lungs constricted when a puff of violet smoke filled the living room of the Ramshackle dorm. Violent coughs escaped your lips.

A round of gasps echoed around the room once the smoke had cleared up. You three first-years couldn't help but stare at the tall blond male standing there in all his glory. His hands rested on his hips as he stared down the two Heartslabyul students, blaming them for the red bruise on his forehead.

"Vil?!" you three cried out in unison.

Ace let out a cheer despite the precarious situation he was stuck in. "Hah! I knew the doll was cursed."

Embarrassment heated up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but avert your gaze to the ground. All the hours you had spent cuddling the doll and taking care of it, he seemed to remember. You gulped, unable to face Vil. "You... were that doll?"

"What were you thinking, throwing me around like a rag doll, potato?" Vil hissed out like a venomous snake that was about to devour Ace.

"I didn't know it was you! You were a rag doll literally!"

Deuce still couldn't even begin to understand the situation. His eyes kept darting between the three other inhabitants of the room. "How did this even happen?"

Vil let out a sigh, but his frown lessened when you brought him a pack of ice. His long fingers pressed the soothing coldness to his bruised forehead. "I don't know. Epel must have slipped something into my water to get away again. I never realised he was capable to something this potent though... I am quite proud of him," he explained and sat down in the chair the doll had previously occupied.

"Uhm... But I hope you still enjoyed the tea time, Vil..." A nervous smile graced your lips as you finally managed to summon the courage to look him in the eyes.

A little chuckle escaped the dorm leader's lips. "I did, dear. We shall repeat this again some time. It was quite nice to be forced to take a break from my hectic schedule." He took a sip from his previously untouched cup of tea. His tense muscles relaxed immediately. "Your presence is quite soothing, I must admit. Everything was okay until these two potatoes showed up."

"Hey! You bit me!" Ace huffed in dismay.

The room suddenly grew cold when Vil cleared his throat threateningly. "Perhaps I should turn you two into dolls and throw you around, too?" the Pomefiore dorm leader asked coldly.

"Vil, it's okay," you whispered and placed your hand on his arm. "Stress isn't good for your skin, remember?"

At your words, Vil's apprehension towards your friends seemed to die down. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his shoulders tiredly. "Fine, potato. But only because it's you. Now, I'd like more tea, please."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #twst vil x reader #twisted wonderland vil #gender neutral reader

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inkedbybarnes · 24 days

Text

anything

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.

i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“can you please let me in, baby?"

that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.

“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”

your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.

“just because you're what? sick?”

you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.

“how did you open the door?”

bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”

you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”

“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”

“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”

“like what?"

“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”

you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.

“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”

with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.

“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”

you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.

you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.

“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”

you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.

bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.

“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”

“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”

“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”

this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"

"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."

you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.

“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”

“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.

“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”

“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”

“anything?”

he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."

( a lil bonus < 3 )

“what is that smell?”

sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.

the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.

sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.

“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"

"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."

“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”

their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.

"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."

"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.

bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."

"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"

bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."

clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."

"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"

"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."

"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."

bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #mcu #inkedbybarnes

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r3ynah · 3 months

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THE FAMILY OF BEAUTIES

The girls the boys they all like Carmen.

(In this scenario Carmen is the fentons).

I just want to headcanon, that the Fenton's have a ethereal type of beauty, not sexy or hot. Ethereal, like if you didn't know that they're a family of Mad scientist, a obsessive therapist and a dead boy. they could've passed as deity's.

And the amity park's citizens can and will totally agree, they might've disagree and fight for a lot of things but the only thing they can agree on was the Fenton's was down to earth beautiful.

Like Jack Fenton for example, He has built that can seemingly bench you without any hesitation, but a himbo at heart, the greys of his hair compliments way it mixes with the black hair of his, if Jack isn't in his ghost hunting suit, he is pretty decent when it comes to his fashion sense, When Jazz first brought along her friends, the first thing they asked was if Jack was single, which caused Jazz to smack their heads individually with a newspaper.

And don't get me started with Madeline Fenton, because I cannot stop when it comes to her, My girl with her short straight Reddish-brown hair, looks like a masculine but also feminine beauty, Can and will bench you, if you have any ill intent towards her family, she came from a long line of riches if I say so myself. Tall as fuck, about 6'7 while Jack is 7'0. very elegant when it comes to fighting, that it looks like she's just dancing, Was titled as a Milf by Danny's classmate which made the boy groan in annoyance, Sam and Tucker calls out to Maddie and says "Mother is Mothering", just to get something out of Danny who looks at them with disgust knowing full well what they were trying to do. While Maddie is just happy for the kids to see her as a mother figure.

Now Jazz, My love, my girl. Her long Red hair that came down to her hips, and her blue eyes, made all the girls and boys in her college swoon, with her 6'4 figure she strutted down the halls with confidence, beauty and brains everyone would oh so called it, and her knowledge in martial arts didn't lessen her attractiveness, The humans and ghosts can agree with that delightfully.

And now her dearest sibling Danny, Danny is a nonbinary fuck that can gender envy anyone he meets, that's why he got bullied in the first place, he was too fucking beautiful and handsome at the same time, all the boys and girls of his school have atleast had a crush on him, He was the only cute boy there, what could they do? He stared at them with his icey colored eyes that made their legs tremble from the pressure, and that black hair that always seemed messy but in a good way. It didn't help when he got that lichtenberg scar, that ran up his neck and the side of his face. you should've seen him in P.E cause my guy got everyone staring at him.

And the Fenton family has fashion sense, if they really put their mind and soul into it, everytime they dressed up for a family reunion or just an outing it was a very sweet treat for everyone's eyes. like how it is right now.

The Amity parkers waved goodbye at the Fenton's as they went on and attended a gala they were invited to, it was supposedly because of the sudden rise and popularity of their works and how's it been helping the environment.

One citizen sighed as he looked at the car that family was driving as it slowly became smaller and smaller.

"You think they can handle Gotham, heard nasty thing bout that place." She questioned

"Girl, Gotham should be the one readying to handle them, that family may be beautiful, but their crazy." Her friend's answered

"well that does give them a more attractive look isn't it?"

"I hate how you're right."

The Gala the Fenton's went to certainly had an awkward atmosphere when they went inside, all the guest kept staring at them that it was starting to get creepy, did they overdress or underdressed, come on just walk towards start to talk or criticize them, because it's starting to get embarrassing for the family.

Gotham wasn't fucking prepared to meet the Fentons like as in, They had been awestrucked when the family walked in. A very tall man seemingly in his 40's with his hair gelled back, and a suit that fitted him too perfectly, gosh dang, even the homophobic guests couldn't help but stare, And then there was his Wife her straight her was curled and brushed out leaving a wavy effect that compliments her face shape, and that dress she was wearing was utterly gorgeous, fancy but also simple and mature, the heels certainly helped her height more and made her look more intimidating, The ladies blushed when she looks at them and smiles.

And don't get them started with the couples children, who looked adorable and elegant at the same time, The older sister had a aura that says: 'Im in your presence bow down' (And they would've if it was in a more private area due to the paparazzi's out the window). She wore a spaghetti strapped dress that had a slit on either side and was , making it more comfortable to move in for the girl, partnered by a white shawl made of silk, she had heels that also complimented he already tall stature, her hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few strands free to not make her face feel bare. And lastly the youngest everyone assumed, wearing a suit, double-breasted suit that was elegant and sophisticated it matched the way his hair is messed up for him to still look young, he was also wearing a black shawl that had specks of white making it look like stars. The family had a colour scheme of green, that made all gothamites present swoon, Including a certain family of bats.

(I might make a fanart of this later.)

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpdc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc fanart #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny is nonbinary #the fentons are beautiful #amity park is just built different #Spotify

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dumplingsjinson · 6 months

Text

List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)

“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.”

“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.”

“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”

“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”

“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”

“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.”

“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.”

“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.”

“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.”

“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”

“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?”

“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”

“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”

“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.”

“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.”

“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.”

“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!”

“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”

“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”

“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.”

“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”

“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.”

“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.”

“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”

“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.”

“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”

“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”

“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”

“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.”

“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.”

“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”

“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.”

“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”

“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”

“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”

“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.”

“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”

“I’m fine. Of course I��m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”

“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”

“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”

“I would not be who I am today if not for you.”

(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)

#long post #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #angst prompts #smut prompts #prompts #romantic prompts #fluff prompts #writing prompts #suggestive prompts

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