#look at this dramatic couple still being dramatic

[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

#hellfiremunsonn #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington stranger things #Stranger Things Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fluff #Stranger Things smut #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x (Y/N) #stranger things fic

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” additional tags: (wrongly) assumed infidelity, miscommunication that gets resolved, this must be an au bc mickey would obv never interrupt his own sleep to leave the apartment

Mickey steps carefully into their apartment, taking great care to shut the door without being too loud. He closes it with barely a click. But nothing can prepare him for what happens next.

When Mickey turns, it’s like he’s stepped right into a 90s romantic drama, the single floor lamp clicking on to shine in a perfect spotlight, revealing where his husband is very much awake, and very much waiting for his return.

He’s sitting on the couch. Tucked up in his bathrobe and the most unimpressed frown.

“Fuck.”

“Who is he?”

Mickey glances from left to right. Behind himself. Looks at Ian again, his heart still pounding in his chest from the startle. “Who’s who?”

“Don’t gimme that.” And now Ian’s standing up, gathering his robe around himself as he prepares to fire off The Chin. “You disappear every night - yes, I noticed,” he states before Mickey can interrupt. “Bring a bag with you… Come home sweaty… I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re fucking bad at hiding this, Mickey.”

It takes a second for everything to sink in. For the endorphins from the last couple hours to start pumping upward into his brain this time. 

And… Damn.

Ian caught him.

To be perfectly honest, Mickey thought he was getting away with this shit - was being real cagey and everything too - even getting a shower in before sliding back into bed with him.

“Two hours. That enough to meet up with him and do what you gotta do?”

Meet up with who? Yeah right. “You think I can get somebody out at this hour?” Mickey asks, his confusion starting to put him on edge. “Been doing this shit all on my own. Well-... I mean ‘cept for the other handful of guys who show up sometimes…”

And the way Ian’s eyebrows rise is almost as startling as how he stops in his tracks, repeating the words back to him with dragged out intensity. “‘Handful of guys’...?”

It’s got Mickey slugging his bag off his shoulder, the dramatics of it all really killing his high. “Christ, Ian. What’re you bein’ so bitchy for-”

“What am I being bitchy for.” There he goes again, repeating shit. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Mickey are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah - what - I was doin’ this shit for you, anyway. Thought you’d at least be excited about it.”

Oh. Fuck. Ian does not like that. “Excited?” Off comes the robe, in a flurry of angry movements. He’s running hot, and not in a good way. “Why the fuck would I be excited about my husband cheating on me!”

And it’s-...

He’s-...

Wait a second.

“What?”

“You thought you could go out every night and meet up with a ‘handful of guys’ and I’d be jumping for joy?” He sure is using air quotes like he’s having a good time with it, but no no no-

“What the-...” Mickey shakes his head, trying to clear the air because holy fuck, “I ain’t fuckin’ cheating on you, Ian - the hell?”

“You just said-” 

“Christ, you think I’m out bangin’ other dudes?”

“Wuh-...! You-...!”

Mickey rubs a hand over his mouth, everything suddenly making a whole lot of sense. The dramatics. The theater of it all. Ian was catching him coming home from the act, but ‘the act’ ended up being two very different things in their respective heads.

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes out, going for his bag so he can put that thought immediately out of Ian’s head. “Look.”

He tugs the zipper open. Starts dumping out its contents on the floor right between them - his gym shoes - his old-ass iPod - a workout shirt - socks that stink so bad that they’re all he really needed to avoid all this. One whiff would’ve immediately made things clear.

But it’s enough now. Ian is slowly putting all the pieces together, the worry in his brow evening out and his chin returning to normal pointedness. Finally.

“You…” you says, hope returning. “You’ve been…going to the gym…?”

Mickey gestures to the pile of clothes in between them, his tone evening into something honest. “Yeah, man. Thought you wouldn’t notice once you knocked out…”

Ian eyes over everything one more time. Then slowly, his lips pull into a small pout, those eyes flicking away. “I notice every time you’re not in bed.” ‘Bitch.’ He wants to add it so bad. Mickey can practically see it trying to break through.

But he doesn’t. And there’s something so sheepish and honest and vulnerable about it, that Mickey can’t help but smile, peace returning as he stuffs his clothes and shoes back into his bag. “Fuck would I ever cheat on you for, ya dummy?”

A beat passes. Thoughts lingering. “I dunno… I just thought-...” 

“Well stop.” It sure makes a lot of sense, though. Now that he sees it through that lens. Fuck, he’d probably think the same thing if their roles were switched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to getchya all riled up…”

“S’okay…” Ian watches as Mickey gets himself sorted. Still has a lot of questions trying to get out - he can tell. And it starts with this one. “What do you mean you were doing this for me?”

It’s the correct one - right away. And Mickey’s glad he asked, actually. Because if he must know…

The floorboards creak beneath his shoes as he steps up into Ian’s space, his muscles warmed up and ready enough to finally show off his skills. 

And when he does it - when he wrangles his giant-ass husband in and hauls him up until he's got those thick thighs straddling his waist, Ian’s startle and wide eyes say it all as Mickey slots him up against the wall - all two hundred pounds - keeping him held up in his arms.

“Been goin’ to the gym so I can lift ya,” he preens, impressed with his own strength.

Because he’s been working for this moment. For the look of sheer shock in Ian’s eyes from the rush of it - how it simmers into delight and pride and something much, much steamier the longer he holds him up.

And damn, that little breathy, impressed laugh that huffs out between them. “Fuck, Mick…”

Oh yeah. This is what all that 2am weightlifting has been for.

“You like that, huh?” Mickey grins, the atmosphere shifting familiar and fun - heavy in a good way. “This do it for ya?”

From his arms, Ian nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he takes a second to eat Mickey up with his eyes, those big arms wrapping around the back of his neck. 

He probably thought he was doing a decent job at hiding how hot he gets with this - when Mickey can make him feel small and moveable. 

They’re both absolute dogshit at keeping secrets, it turns out.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#gallavich #ray writes #smutty one-liners

[abirddogmoment]

A lot about Mav's decline and a little about how it makes me look at Rory.

I didn't talk about it very much here, but Mav was really subtle in his signs of pain when he was declining from his spine injury. Some of the things that tipped me off were changes to his gait, lower tailset, slower movement, reluctance/slowness getting on or off furniture, and needing extra cuddling. These things could easily be brushed off as him being tired or him being disinterested, and it really made me doubt what I was seeing.

I was sure Mav had something really wrong with him, but it was so hard to convince the vet of that. She said things like "are you sure you didn't just train him not to jump on the furniture?" and "sometimes dogs slow down as they age", meaning well but ultimately making things a lot harder for me. This, coupled with Mav's happiness at the vet and overall stoic personality, gaslit me into thinking I was imagining things. I googled things like "munchausen by proxy symptoms" because I needed to know if I was the real problem.

When Mav went for his OFA hips and elbow rads, I had them take spine rads as well, hoping it would answer my question and help find out what was wrong with him. When his rads came back normal, I cried. It was partly in relief that it wasn't something structural, but also partly desperation that I couldn't prove something was wrong.

I pushed my vet to refer Mav for a neuro consult. It took four months to get her to agree and then for the neuro clinic to schedule Mav in. In that time, I started tracking his decline with a special quality of life chart I made specifically for him. It showed a degeneration of his QOL, but I still thought maybe I was dramatizing things and imagining it.

When Mav went for his neuro consult, they took him back for tests for ten minutes, then came back and solemnly told me they were certain his problem was neurological. They then asked me if they could take him back and let their vet students do the (non-invasive) tests on him for practice because he was such a happy dog. Of course I said yes.

They told me he wasn't a good candidate for surgery. I could do an MRI, but it would be expensive and wouldn't add much besides a formal diagnosis. They recommended palliative care.

I sobbed while driving home. Part of it was relief that I finally knew I wasn't imagining things. Most of it was heartbreak.

I scrutinized Mav's final decline because I couldn't let him suffer. I had hard lines ("when he can't run" and "when the painkillers stop working") and he reached those, but he was still so happy. He still had so much joy in his life. I made the call anyway.

The day came. He trotted into the vet's office like he was meeting his best friend at a restaurant. The vet carried him back to get a port and he wagged his tail the whole time. He scarfed down an entire fistful of cookies.

It was still, without a single doubt, the right choice for Maverick. I have thought about it from every angle, torn apart every single decision, and there's nothing I would do differently if I could go back and do it all again.

Now Rory came to me with a weird gait. She came to me with occasional dorsal shivers (the skin thing horses do) and extremely occasionally bunny hops while running. Not enough for me to think there's something seriously wrong with her, but enough for me to send videos to her breeder. I tried to believe it was just a symptom of puppy uglies or that she just needed more time to grow gracefully.

I debated it for two months, but I finally took Rory for an assessment at a sports physio vet here in town. When I filled out the intake form, I made it clear that I could be concerned over nothing, that this could be a waste of $85 and an hour of our time.

She scheduled us in, did her hands on assessment, and found a knot in Rory's thigh. She gave us some stretches and we have a few more rechecks, but Rory should be totally fine and her gait should improved within the week. All the symptoms point towards a longterm overcompensation to reduce weight on her one leg.

I felt so stupid going into the sports vet today. I almost cancelled my appointment twice because I was sure I was imagining things. Even when she was examining Rory, I was preparing my apology for wasting her time.

Rory is going to feel better. She's going to get to grow up without the effects caused from an overcompensation from shifting her weight in a weird way. She probably would've been fine even without the appointment, but she's going to be even better now.

It's a whole lot of text to say something cliché like trust your instincts or don't overthink it, but it is what it is.

#dogblr #about mav #about aurora #tw sick dog #(mav not rory) #tw euthanasia #mav memories #if im missing a tw tag just let me know #anyway this post is mostly so i can go back later #the next time im doubting myself #and remember that my brain is mean to me and i can just....... trust...... my eyeballs......

[ikemengoessbrrrrr]

Dramatic mfs

#look at this dramatic couple still being dramatic #I love them #also this episode is fun #and can't believe Kokeru's chapter become the opening for inaba arc #WHICH IS COOL AF #urusei yatsura all stars #ataru moroboshi #urusei yatsura #atalum #uy allstars #lum #ataru x lum

[ishouldstopdaydreaming]

When you realize hyperfixation isn't hyperfixating anymore

#I KNEW TADC WILL DRAG SOME PEOPLE FROM DCA #BUT I DIDN'T THINK I WOULD BE ONE OF THEM!!!! #i have been here since January #and i mean 2022 january #I LOVE SUN AND MOON I REALLY DO BUT IT DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME ANYMORE #IM BEING DRAMATIC I KNOW #BUT IMAGINE LOOKING AT SOMETHING YOU LOVED SO MUCH #AND NOT TO FEEL ANYTHING #i like tadc #but not the same way like i did with dca #i feel very fandomless #there are a couple of aus I'll definitely still follow #but still. the feeling really sucks :(

[omegasmileyface]

ok thats enough vintage omegasmileyface. i was doing my regular "contemplate simply deleting everything i posted between 2016 and 2020 because theres a lot of shit in there i want deleted and not all that much i would miss and it would take 8 trillion years to actually sort through it" period

#thinking of every tag/search term i possibly could to delete records of my name and location and face. you know how it is. #I Will Be Posting Them All Again. #its inevitable #fun fact! looking at my old posts from a cringe me who i hate has sort of made me realize that im definitely definitely still the same #person just with slightly different speech patterns and interests and understandings of morality #and in a couple years im gonna hate present me for being cringe too. hiiiiiiii #like look at me. posting needlessly dramatic monologues in my tags... i havent changed! <3

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

#WE CAN DO THIS #I SO TRULY BELIEVE THAT WE CAN DO THIS #WE CAN SAVE OURSELVES AND THE WORLD ALONG WITH US #climate crisis #united states #climate change #conservation #hope posting #sustainability #climate news #climate action #climate emergency #fossil fuels #global warming #environmentalism #climate hope #solarpunk #climate optimism #climate policy #earth #science #climate science #meteorology #extreme weather #renewable energy #solar power #wind power #renewables #carbon emissions #climate justice

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”

“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy rpf

[sttoru]

your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.

you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.

“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”

he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.

you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”

satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.

“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.

satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.

“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.

“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.

little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.

the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”

that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.

not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.

his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”

. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.

“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.

the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.

“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”

there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”

you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk fic

[vanteguccir]

8 minutes of cute moments | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons, @myfavoritesstuff, @dracoflaco and @ecliphttlunar

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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8 minutes of cute moments between Matt Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute - "Trying Japanese snacks with our parents!!!":

The triplets were recording a video where they tried different snacks from Japan, and their parents were participating of it as guests, just like Y/N - which was nothing new, since the girl made at least a small appearance in every video from the triplets channel.

The six of them were around one side of the kitchen table, and all the snacks that would be used in the video rested on it. Y/N stood next to Mary Lou with her head resting on her shoulder, while the woman's left arm wrapped around her waist affectionately.

Matt was explaining to the camera about the snack they were going to eat next, when the girl raised her head slightly, pointing with her left hand at the only glass of water on the table, which was in front of Mary Lou.

"It's yours, right? Can I have a sip, please?" The girl asked her mother-in-law, receiving a big smile and a nod in response.

"Of course, go ahead!"

Y/N smiled back, picking the glass and taking a generous sip. Before she could take another one, Chris suddenly interrupted her, cutting off Matt's sentence.

"Someone's invisalign is in that water." Chris pointed to the glass, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his sister-in-law drinking the water from there.

Y/N stopped her hand holding the glass in the air, her eyes widening comically as her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"What?" Her voice came out high-pitched, her eyes going from Chris to the glass repeatedly.

"Oh my God, babe, it was mine!" Matt pointed out, a laugh escaping his mouth, followed by Mary Lou, who curved her spine slightly as she laughed, trying to apologize.

"Ew, ew, ew." Y/N mumbled repeatedly, dropping the glass on the table with a loud clinck. She began her steps towards the sink, ready to give her mouth a thorough rinse.

Her steps were interrupted by Matt, who lightly pulled her into his arms, hugging her from behind. His arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin on her head, an amused look still in his eyes.

Y/N let out a groan, trying to free herself from Matt's arms, wanting to clean her mouth.

"No need for all that, baby. You've had worse in your mouth." Matt threw, his voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

Nick let out a dramatic scream, covering his ears with his hands quickly, a look of fear taking over his features. Chris's eyes widened momentarily before laughter escaped his mouth, followed by Jimmy, who patted Matt's shoulder. Mary Lou raised her eyebrows at the couple, shaking her head playfully.

Y/N opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening as she stopped fighting against his hold. She felt her face burn with embarrassment, her mind still processing what her boyfriend had just blurted out in front of his parents, siblings, and camera.

"Matt!"

"I'm kidding, baby. I'm sorry." Matt said, his tone full of amusement, showing that he wasn't sorry at all for what he said.

The brunette lowered his face, resting his right cheek on Y/N's right shoulder with his face toward her neck, sealing her jaw repeatedly, exhaling the natural scent of her skin as he tightened his arms around her, throwing a playful wink towards the camera.

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2nd minute - Silent treatment:

The triplets and Y/N were at Target buying the drinks that the boys would use in the channel's next video. Nick had his vlog camera in hand, recording bits of their little trip, just like they used to do.

The four of them had decided to split up to optimize their time, as Y/N needed to get some things that had run out at their house. With that, Y/N and Matt went one way, while Nick and Chris went the other.

At some point, Y/N approached Chris and Nick with a giant pout on her lips and arms crossed, her heavy steps against the floor drawing their attention.

"Uh oh, what happened?" Nick asked upon noticing her upset expression, focusing the camera lens on her face while frowning in confusion.

"Matt is ignoring me." Her pout deepened, her eyes dropping to the floor momentarily. "I just wanted to get a Diet Coke, but he said we would get that later and that the focus now was on the video stuff." She explained in a defeated tone. "But I said I felt like it, and he told me to stay quiet and just do what you said, and then he started ignoring me and giving me the silent treatment-"

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her, her eyes quickly looking up to the source of it, seeing Matt approaching with a basket with 10 cans of assorted drinks, and at least 15 cans of Diet Coke.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she saw him and what he had picked, lowering her crossed arms and watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Matt! What did we talk about giving the silent treatment when you're mad?" Chris raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his waist in a playfully confrontational gesture.

The brunette rolled his eyes, completely ignoring him and approaching his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, babe. It was childish of me to ignore you. But look, I got you a bunch of Diet Coke." Matt asked, lifting the basket with the cans before looking into Y/N's eyes, frowning in concern when he saw them teary. "Oh no, don't cry, pretty girl. I'm sorry."

Matt's tone was desperate, his hands dropping the basket onto the floor before wrapping around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed her head against his chest, lowering his own and sealing her temple for long seconds, whispering "I love you" repeatedly, pressing several kisses to the same spot.

"Ugh, how can you two be so disgusting even when you're fighting?" Nick's voice sounded from behind the camera, the lens shaking as he suddenly turned around, leaving that aisle and pulling Chris with him.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3rd minute - Y/N's birthday:

It was Y/N's birthday, and at her own request, the celebration was being something small, just a little thing with her closest friends, at her house - which she shared with the triplets, one of them being her beloved boyfriend -, without alcoholic drinks, but with several different snacks and sweets, as well as a pink cake, heart shaped and covered in glitter.

It was time to sing the happy birthday song and Nick quickly fished his phone out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans, opening the camera and setting it to record, wanting to keep the memory forever.

"Baby, can you stay by my side?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her eyes focused on her boyfriend, Matt, as she was already standing behind the table in their kitchen.

The cake was in the center with two pink candles filled with pearls in the shape of her new age on top, surrounded by sweets and snacks, as well as several drinks filled with edible glitter and dishes in different shades of pink.

Matt smiled at her request, his cheeks taking on a reddish color in shyness and love, walking over to his girlfriend and positioning himself next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist automatically.

"Wait, let me light it." The brunette interrupted Y/N's next movements, who was ready to light the candles.

Matt quickly did so before straightening up, nodding as he heard everyone start singing the "Happy birthday" song, while clapping and smiling at the couple.

The boy tightened his arm around Y/N, lowering his head so that his lips approached the side of her forehead, sealing her skin for a long time while humming the song along with everyone.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

It was Y/N's birthday, but it was Matt who was getting an amazing gift for the fifth year in a row.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4th minute - Guess the triplets by zoom in pics:

The triplets were finishing the video where they had limited time rounds to guess who it was in the photos shown, just by a small part of their body or face.

"Before we finish, we want to do something different. We'll call Y/N so she can play a round alone. But the trick is: we'll tell her that these are random photos of the three of us, but actually, we'll just show photos of me." Matt explained in a low tone, his face closer to the camera so that the lens captured his words, an eager smile decorating his face.

While the brunette talked to the lens, Chris did the job of calling Y/N and explaining what she would have to do, taking her into the frame after Matt finished speaking.

Y/N smiled slightly at the camera, waving quickly before sitting down in one of the two chairs set up behind the table, keeping her arms on the wooden surface and looking at the triplets expectantly.

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready?" Nick began, scrolling his thumb through the separate photos in a folder in his phone's gallery, before clicking on one. He zoomed in on an almost unrecognizable area, turning the device towards Y/N, showing her the screen. "Who's-"

"Matt." Y/N interrupted Nick abruptly, slamming her hand on the table right after, momentarily forgetting that she needed to tap there before saying the answer.

Chris raised his eyebrows from behind the camera, approaching Nick and looking at the photo quickly over his right shoulder, before taking the device from his hand and searching for the next picture, looking for one that was just as difficult.

"Okay, you got it right, but that one was too easy. Let's see something different." Chris smiled sideways, covering the phone screen with his free hand so that no one but himself could see what he was doing.

Matt rolled his eyes, smirking as his eyes met Y/N's, watching her cheeks take on a red hue under his intense gaze.

A few seconds later, Chris finally chose the photo, zooming in on the area most unlikely to be recognized before doing the same process as Nick, showing it to Y/N.

The girl looked at it for a few milliseconds before slamming the same hand on the table.

"Matt. Again." She smiled smugly, lifting her chin in the air in pride.

Matt let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands momentarily, entering the camera frame, and walking up to his girlfriend's back.

He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and laying his head in the crook of her neck, before repeatedly kissing her cheek.

Y/N smiled in shyness at his loving gestures, feeling confused by the sudden actions.

"I said my girlfriend knew me as well as I knew myself." Matt spoke to his brothers behind the camera, smiling into the lens in excitement.

"Wait, was that a prank?"

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5th minute - "We bought the zoo for a day":

The triplets and Y/N were at the zoo for 24 hours, a way of thanking the fans of the Sturniolo Triplets channel for making them reach 6 million subscribers.

Y/N felt over the moon, having grown up with a huge passion for all types of animals, made her enthusiasm triple every time her eyes met a different animal, dangerous or not.

The four were in the zoo's tour car, accompanied by their guide, who stopped in front of certain groups of animals from time to time and briefly explained their species and main characteristics.

Nick and Chris, who were sitting in the seats behind the front ones, listened intently to the guide as they recorded themselves and their surroundings, often focusing the lens on the couple in the seats behind them, Y/N and Matt.

Matt nodded his head every few minutes, wanting to show the guide through the rearview mirror that he was listening to him and understanding his explanation, while his eyes fixed on each of the animals shown.

A huge smile decorated his face, accompanied by his pupils that seemed to shine bright. Y/N's right arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

Her hand caressed his covered skin lightly, gently squeezing it every time she felt him jump in place excitedly, or when he simply waved at the animals, whispering "hi" or "bye's".

God, how she loved him.

The camera, focused on Nick at the moment, captured the image of the two in the background, recording the cuteness of the couple, who seemed to be in candy land.

Y/N leaned into Matt's side from time to time, her pupils dilating as they ran over his excited, awe-like features. She sealed her lips over his cheeks and jaw every minute, whispering against his skin how much she loved him and adored seeing him that happy.

The girl also laid her head on Matt's right shoulder sometimes, squeezing her arm around him and pulling him closer - if that was even possible.

That only intensified Matt's happiness, who smiled so big that his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders in shyness and enthusiasm.

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6th minute - Disgustingly cute:

Nick and Chris were in the living room as they spoke to the camera, explaining what they would do in that vlog, which would be posted next Wednesday.

Chris remembered that they had to call for Matt, commenting that the boy was still in his room and that they had been calling for him for over 20 minutes already.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something like "I don't know what I did to deserve this shit" in an ironic tone, walking quickly to Matt's bedroom door, turning the camera so that the lens captured the environment inside.

His free hand worked on turning the handle, pushing it quickly, hoping to give Matt a scare.

He just didn't expect to see Y/N still lying in bed - which left him confused, as he imagined that the girl would already be at the market, since there were some things that had run out on their house and she told him that she would get new ones while they were filming.

The girl was dressed in the clothes she would wear to go out, her makeup and hair done, and her face carrying a defeated expression. Meanwhile, Matt was lying on top of her, all of his weight against Y/N's body.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, only the sight of curly brown hair apparent. His back rose and fell slowly, on the rhythm of his calm breath.

Matt's body was covered by the sweatshirt set he would be wearing for the video, and Nick quickly understood that they were ready for the day, Y/N about to leave, when Matt interrupted her for a lovey dovey session.

Y/N had her eyes closed and a smile resting on her face, seeming to dive into the moment. Her right hand was in Matt's hair, and her fingers threaded through his curls, massaging his scalp. While her left hand was on his back, traveling from his shoulders down to the small of his back, and back up again.

Every second, it was possible to see Matt moving his head slightly, and a sound of lips sealing against skin sounded throughout the room, making it clear that he was kissing Y/N's cheek or neck.

Whispers of "I love you" and sweet nothings were occasionally released from their lips.

"Matt, I'm going to fire you if you don't get up now and do your job." Nick's voice sounded like thunder between the four walls, scaring the couple.

Matt quickly sat down between Y/N's legs, turning towards the door with wide eyes, while Y/N opened her own eyes abruptly, her right hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart racing under her skin.

"You are crazy." Matt shook his head, moving to get up from the bed, casting a sad glance at Y/N, longing to return to her arms.

"And you guys are disgusting." Chris added, smiling roguishly, letting it know that it was a joke. "Y/N makes Matt a softie. She has him on a leash, I swear."

"Shut up, Chris."

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7th minute - Gamer boyfriend:

Y/N felt her shoulders heavy from the extremely busy day at work. All the tasks placed on her duty made her almost go completely insane, and all her body asked for was her bed and her boyfriend's arms.

So when she got home, the first thing she did was go up the stairs and enter her shared room with Matt, her movements almost robotic and automatic.

The sound of voices echoed low from one of the corners of the room, and Y/N quickly noticed that Matt was sitting in his gaming chair, his arms resting on the computer desk as he played one of his addictive games.

His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, his ears covered by the headphones from which the voices were coming from.

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling her heart warm by finally seeing her boyfriend. She quickly grabbed a set of the boy's sweatshirts and left the room, going to the bathroom, where she took a shower faster than usual - just wanting to be able to sleep as soon as possible - and got dressed.

As soon as the girl entered their bedroom again, she noticed Matt talking into the microphone of his headphones, and she quickly understood that he was streaming, probably with his brothers and on Twitch.

Y/N walked slowly towards her boyfriend, touching his right shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Without the two noticing, the chat went crazy from the moment the girl appeared in the frame. Miscellaneous comments about her or the two of them as a couple were sent so quickly that if Matt were watching them, he wouldn't be able to read any.

Matt lifted his head quickly, lowering the headphones so that it would hang around his neck, a big, bright smile appearing on his face as his pupils instantly dilated.

"Hi baby! I didn't notice you coming." The brunette's voice came out in a low tone, his eyes taking note of his girlfriend's tired expression and tense shoulders, his eyebrows almost automatically furrowing in concern.

"I arrived just now, I just came in to get some clothes so I could take a shower." Y/N whispered in response.

Matt smiled as he saw his own clothes covering his girl's body. The boy lifted his arms, encircling her waist and pulling her closer, sealing his lips lightly over her covered waist.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" The brunette asked, tilting his head back so he could see her face, ready to just turn off his streaming if she said yes.

"I do, but I want to be with you more." Y/N spoke, raising her right hand quickly, interrupting Matt before he could even consider stopping his streaming. "I don't want you to stop it... Can I just sit on your lap while you play?" Her tone was vulnerable, her tired eyes looking into Matt's expectantly.

"Of course, my love. Always." Matt quickly responded, nodding his head as he moved slightly away from the table with the help of the soles of his feet against the floor, opening his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to fit between them.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, positioning herself between his thighs before sitting on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hooking around his shoulders, getting comfortable.

She sealed her lips against his right cheek in a lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose, before laying her head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily and finally closing her eyes.

Matt kissed the top of her head for some seconds, arranging his headphones against his own ears again, giving a shy smile to the camera.

His right hand traveled to the mouse, pressing play on the game again, while his left hand caressed Y/N's back, helping her get into dream land.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watched the chat go as fast as he thought it be possible, keeping his focus on the game.

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8th minute - "Trying and guessing 21 different drinks":

The triplets were recording the video that would be posted that Wednesday, where they had to try 21 different drinks - some that they are used to drinking every day, others that they have never even tasted - and guess what which one was.

Y/N was participating in the video as a special guest. She had a feeling she would do poorly at the task, since she wasn't used to drinking anything other than Diet Coke.

Nick had decided to leave her for last, telling her to rearrange the positions of all the drinks in each of the boys' rounds.

Soon, it was her turn. She cast a quick glance at Matt, concern and nervousness present in her expressions. The brunette just returned it with a quick wink, waving his hand as if to say "you can go", waiting for her to leave the kitchen so he could rearrange the drinks.

Before calling her back, Matt surreptitiously took a photo of the position of the drinks, quickly putting away his phone, finally calling for his girlfriend.

Y/N returned to the kitchen with a tense smile, stopping in front of the table and behind the drinks, looking at the triplets, waiting for them to give the go-ahead.

Given the start, the girl bent down to take a sip of the first drink, her expression brightening and her eyes instantly widening as she tasted her favorite drink.

"Diet Coke!" She quickly said after rising from her slightly bent position, pulling out the paper with the image of the soda.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, nodding his head in confirmation. They knew she'd get that one right since her obsession with the drink was as strong as Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

The girl bent down again to take a sip of the second drink, momentarily catching her throat before she could swallow the liquid, the horrible taste flooding her mouth.

She stood up abruptly, swallowing the contents roughly, looking at the brothers with a frown, receiving laughter in response. The girl stopped in front of the images for a few seconds, internally analyzing which one it could be.

Her fingers worked on pushing away the images of the drinks she had already drank before and was sure that wasn't the horrible thing she had just drank, staring firmly at the ones that she didn't know.

When her finger went towards one of them, the image of Matt moving his arm around caught her attention. She looked up and saw her boyfriend behind his brothers, trying to get her attention.

Matt, realizing that she noticed him calling out to her, discreetly pointed to the right image with his free hand, his other hand occupied by his phone, which was displaying the photo he took of the correct order of the drinks minutes before.

Y/N smirked, dodging the path her hand was going, picking up the right image and placing it in front of the corresponding straw.

That cycle remained throughout the process. Chris and Nick were in shock, even thinking about the possibility that Y/N had some kind of superpower..

While Matt had a discreet smile on his face, biting his bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping every time he saw his brothers reaction or the way his girlfriend smiled like a mad woman.

Upon finishing her round, the girl stood in front of the table with her arms crossed, a convinced expression taking over her features as she waited for Nick to confirm how many she got right, even though she already knew the result.

"Look, I don't know what kind of witchcraft you did, but you got everything right." Nick said, his face with an expression of annoyance.

An excited scream escaped Y/N's lips. She ran towards Matt, hugging him tightly while jumping in place.

Matt laughed at her reaction, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head repeatedly, jumping with her.

"Ugh, I hate you guys."

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #imagine #oneshot #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt au #matt fanfic #matt #matty #youtuber #fluff #fluffy #request

[landosjpg]

chicken shop date | ln

the one where your boyfriend gets invited to the chicken shop date and you’re not really happy about it.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: just reader being a tiny bit jealous and insecure & fluff at the end

note: based on this request. took me a little longer than it should had but i wanted to watch the interview before to know how to approach it, but hope you enjoy it!

"i'm just not really fond of the idea!" you huffed, sinking further into your boyfriend's couch, dramatically crossing your arms under your chest with pouty lips.

your reaction got a laugh out of lando and he let his body plop down next to you, looking over at your saddened expression with a soft smile on his lips.

"baby, come on. i'm gonna be late," he cooed, his fingers trying to reach for your chin to get you to look at him so he could give you a kiss goodbye, but you easily managed to turn your face in the opposite direction before his lips could touch yours.

this gesture got a sigh out of lando, making him drop his hand to your lap in defeat.

"it's gonna be alright," he said, his voice still sweet as he tried te reassure you, knowing that under your over dramatic reaction lied the anxiety of him getting even more popular.

just the previous evening, his team had informed him that he was scheduled for a new interview in the morning. when he finished telling you all about it after hanging up the phone, your eyebrows were furrowed and the pout you made hadn't left your face since that very moment.

the chicken shop date.

you usually watched the show, so you knew how big of an audience it had. it wasn't the fake dating part that worried you, but the huge amount of fans it would get him.

it was a little stupid, you knew, considering that he was one of the most popular faces of the sport. but you couldn't help the little insecurities that surfaced from time to time, thinking that he could find someone to replace you at any given minute.

lando's hand squeezed yours softly, making you get out of your mind and look back at him. he knew what you were thinking, so he gave you a reassuring smile before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. so you gave in.

"just don't be funny. or nice," you said, trying your best to forget about your worries and trust that nothing would change. "don't be cute, either."

"i can do that," lando chuckled, and with your hand still in his, he leaned closer to you to finally peck your lips.

"good, cause i don't want to share my boyfriend with any more people," you added, making him smile as he pulled away and got up from his spot next to you.

he found your overprotectiveness rather cute sometimes, and every single time he tried to comfort you, reminding you that you were the only one he wanted.

with your little act over, you looked up at his figure in front of you as he gathered his things before leaving the house. he looked extra good; you had noticed how the color of his hoodie was bringing out the blue of his eyes a few minutes earlier and how his curls were still a little damp from his shower, one of them perfectly falling over his forehead.

he turned to look at you one last time, leaning to kiss your forehead and whisper an "i love you" before he left the apartment in a rush, your little tantrum surely making him arrive a good couple of minutes late.

୨୧

lando had asked you to join him in australia so you could spend a few days exploring the city before he had to go back to work. and naturally, you had accepted.

as any other day, you woke up in his arms, limbs tangled under the bedsheets and your cheek softly pressed against his bare chest.

you lazily turned around, trying not to wake him up, to reach for your phone to check the time. that was your intention, but as you saw your phone blowing up with notifications, you remembered.

the episode had come out only a few hours earlier.

not wanting to spoil yourself scrolling on social media, you quickly opened youtube and looked it up, feeling a little uneasy once again. you weren't sure what you could expect, lando hadn't said much about it when he returned home that day.

you couldn't help the smile that creeped up to your lips the second he appeared on your screen, his soft spoken voice warming your heart and making you snuggle closer to him, your back against his chest now.

you felt the grip around your waist getting a little tighter, his knees tucking behind yours.

"are you serious?" his voice was hoarse, his breath on your skin as he hid his face on your neck.

"you didn't think i wouldn't watch, did you?" you giggled when he pulled you closer to him, only getting a soft groan from his lips as an answer.

he didn't say anything else, just kept pressing soft kissis to your skin as you finished watching the interview, your smile growing wider at his shyness.

once you were done, you put your phone down and turned around to face him again. your eyes met his under the soft morning light, the corners of your lips moving upwards at the beautiful sight in front of you.

"it wasn't that bad now, was it?" he whispered, clearly referring to your tantrum the day of the filming.

"it was fun," you admitted, running your fingers through his curls slowly.

he hummed, letting his eyelids flutter close once again at your touch.

"i'm still not happy about sharing my boyfriend with new people," you playfully added after a few seconds, the little pout on your lips, but lando was quick to kiss it away. "and i could've asked you those questions myself," you sassed, making him roll his eyes with a chuckle at your words.

"maybe you should go on a date with me if you want to ask me those questions so bad," he said, trying to nuzzle his face on your neck again to hide his smirk.

"smooth," you giggled, wrapping one of your legs around his body and pulling him a little closer to yours. "i'd love to go on a date with you, baby."

he smiled at your murmured answer, kissing your jaw before mumbling himself, "tomorrow night then?"

with a slight nod of your head, you hummed and let your eyes shut close to enjoy a couple more minutes in bed with your boyfriend before the alarm went off.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic

[steviesbicrisis]

A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.

Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.

Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.

Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.

As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.

Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.

Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.

Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.

"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.

"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.

"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"

They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.

Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.

Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.

"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.

"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."

If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.

"What?"

"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"

"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.

"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."

"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.

Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"

"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.

Everything feels different now.

Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"

"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."

A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.

Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.

Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.

Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.

“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.

Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”

“You heard me” Steve says.

“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”

For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”

Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.

“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.

“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.

“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”

“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.

Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”

Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”

Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”

“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”

Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”

He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.

Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.

“I think I’m in love.”

#I’ve been wanting to write this since I saw the movie #but it never felt right #this is the best I could do lmao #in case it wasn’t clear I’m making fun of Steve for going from basic name to basic name lmao #I love him #I just think they’re neat #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #barbie #Barbie au #Steddie au #steddie au Barbie

[ohdeerfully]

Man, I just need some more sleepy Alastor x reader. Honestly, I don’t know what the plot would be or whatever but I am a literal magnet when it comes to sleepy characters😋😋

Lazy Morning

Alastor x Reader (fluff)

TW: none!

join my discord!

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You stretched your arms up and out as you woke up, eyes flickering open at the bright red of Hell’s sky filtering through the curtains of your room. You let your eyes close again for a moment, sighing and going limp under your covers again. You had a long night, and just… a few more minutes…

Your consciousness started slipping again, and you felt so comfortable under your fluffy duvet…

Knock, knock knock

Your eyes cracked open and you couldn’t stop the groan that escaped your lips. You knew exactly who knocked on your door, because he had a particular way of doing so every time. You weren’t upset that he was here, but you were upset that he was rousing you from your comfortable bed.

“Let yourself in,” You called, unintentionally sharp. You tugged the blanket around your face tighter, staring at the door as it opened softly.

Alastor peeked the top half of his body in, looked at you, laughed lightly, and fully entered the room. 

“My dearest,” He said through a gentle grin. His head tilted to the side, as if he was confused to see you laying there. “It’s… rather late in the morning! Don’t waste your eternity lying in bed!”

You simply hummed in response, and you didn’t move an inch. He stepped forwards towards your bed, looming over you. You had trouble seeing his face in the long shadows cast by the violently bright morning beaming through your curtains. But, you could tell there was a disapproving look in his features. He hated unproductivity. 

“Could you close the curtains tighter,” You pleaded, ignoring his earlier comment. You were growing irritated at the light, and shoved your face into the pillow.

Alastor ‘tsked’ and walked towards the curtains. His sharp fingers dug into the fabric… before he sharply pulled them apart, blasting light into your room.

You shouted wordlessly at him, though an intelligible ‘you dick’ was heard in your otherwise mindless yells. Alastor only cackled at you, dramatically wiping a fake tear from his eye—the sound of a laugh track on his cane joined him. He was cut off when a pillow hit him square in the face.

“Fucking close them!” You practically screamed. Your voice cracked, still dripping with sleep. You were squinting in the light to the point your eyes might as well be shut.

Alastor obeyed with a hum, a pleased look in his eyes at his own antics. The room was swamped in darkness. The demon walked towards your bed again, his eyes slightly glowing in the darkness. You watched him as he watched you.

“Now, when do you plan on not being so lazy?” There was a hint of a tease in his voice. “It’s a wonderful day in Hell.”

You slid your arms out from the blanket and reached towards him. He looked at your arms strangely. You rolled your eyes at his cluelessness.

“I’ll get up if you stay with me for a few minutes.”

Alastor thought for a moment before gingerly setting himself down on the bed near you. “I’m not going to babysit you,” He began. “Just b-” You cut him off with a whine. His eyes narrowed at you.

“Get closer,” You demanded, your arms still outstretched. Alastor wasn’t the biggest fan of your childish attitude, but he bit back a comment and scooted a couple inches forward. You lifted yourself up slightly and slid your hands behind his back, tugging him forward.

With anybody else, Alastor would have probably yanked off an arm, or something. His heart held a strangely soft spot for you, though, and he was able to fight off his instincts to let himself get dragged by your hands. He caught himself from falling completely forward, his hands placed flat on either side of your head.

You smiled up at him, a sleepy look still affecting your eyes. He felt his chest squeeze while he looked down at you. It took him a while to get used to the strange, alien emotions you made him feel in the months after he confessed to “feeling a strange way about you”, but he was starting to become more acquainted with them. He clenched his jaw, his smile becoming low and watery as his eyes watched your hand drag a light finger down his cheek.

“You curse me,” His voice was low and intimate, and it lacked the sound of radio frequency. His face inched closer to yours as he spoke. “I feel so weak near you.” He kept the fact that he hated it to himself.

You gave him a lazy, lopsided grin. “I consider myself more like a hex, really.” This made Alastor smile a bit wider. He pressed his face into your neck, and you laughed lightly at the sensation of his hair tickling your skin. He inhaled sharply before sighing, settling his body next to you.

What a change in mood, You thought to yourself as Alastor snaked an arm under your head. You saw a tired look in his eyes, something that he would tend to hide in his day to day. You knew he didn’t sleep much. 

“It’s been a few minutes,” Alastor commented. His voice had a twinge of exhaustion in it, likely brought on by laying down. It was no surprise that sleep would jump on him like a rabid animal since he kept himself awake for seemingly days on end.

“Just a few more,” You pleaded. You pressed your face into his chest, and felt it rumble slightly when he hummed an ‘okay’ in response to your request. You curled your arm around his torso.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you know you did when you crack open your eyes and your body feels heavy, still waking up. You lift yourself, but stop when you feel the weight of Alastor’s arm around you. You smile when you look down and see a soft, sleepy smile on his lips and a relaxed look on his features.

You slip yourself from his grip, and his eyes crack open. His eyebrows furrow for a moment, and you watch as he stifles a yawn.

You wordlessly blinks his eyes open and looks at you.

“Ready to get up?” You ask him, leaning over to stare directly down at him.

He closes his eyes in response again and sighs, simultaneously lifting an arm to lightly wrap around your waist.

You watch him for a few seconds, before looking up and around your room. Your eyes settle on your curtains, an ominous glow of light emanating from the edges. A sinister smile peaks your lips, and you weigh the pros and cons.

It was a brief thought, though, because when you looked back down at Alastor all evil intent left your body. This guy never slept, you shouldn’t interrupt this just to get back at him.

Plus, how endearing he looked, so vulnerable underneath you. The Radio Demon, sleeping, guards lowered, trusting you. You leaned down and pressed a careful kiss against his forehead before lying back down. He was quick to swamp you with his arms once again, and you suddenly wondered if it’d be so bad to sleep the day away.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #fluff #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #eepy disease #im tired as i write this #zzz

[alargehunkofdebris]

Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience

The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.

Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.

I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.

Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.

But wait! There’s more!

You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.

This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”

This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)

Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.

Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?

Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.

And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?

Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.

And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.

Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?

For…all of it.

All of the time that ever existed.

They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.

And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.

That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.

I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.

Do you know how uncommon that is?

Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.

That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.

And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.

And then you have the end of S2.

And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.

And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.

Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.

It just works.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #neil gaiman

[churipu]

Ipinnn hear me out. Gojo sees his gf reader (who is stoic, a typical intj lol) saved his contact on her phone as "pretty boy". Note: reader never calls him any petname. Not even babe. Please your take on this😗😗 this thought has been plaguing my mind.

An intj char>> Wednesday Addams

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. nothing, happy reading :)

note. hi hi nonnie, i'm so so so so sorry for the late update on your ask. i know you had a follow up ask and told me that this isn't a request, but i really wanted to write one for gojo because, honestly, gojo, brainrot. yes. anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3

"baby, can i please borrow your phone? i need to ring nanami for a mission," gojo poked your cheek — a couple of times at that, his blindfold holding back his white locks like a bandana, "i forgot to charge mine last night, please please?"

you cocked your head to the side where your phone laid right by your thigh, "password's your birthday."

gojo almost choked on his own saliva at the sound of his own birthday being your phone's password. a small device that's somehow supposed to be your safe sanctuary. considering how you don't have the sweetest tongue, this was a big honor for him.

he dived right beside you, clicking his birthday into the password engine and like you said — it unlocked the phone. gojo spared you a glance, "'ts really my birthday? your password's my birthday?"

humming in agreement, you then felt his lips land on your cheek. grazing your skin gently, "i thought you knew?"

gojo shook his head, "i didn't, but now i do!"

the man respects your privacy like you respected his, and so like his earlier words — he placed the phone to his ear after clicking in various numbers. it took him a while to start speaking, specifically after the third try.

you just knew nanami was ignoring his calls.

gojo began scolding, supposedly nanami who was on the other line regarding his late actions in picking up the call (which was not a rare occurrence at all) — but dived back in the topic pretty quickly, mentioning a mission a couple of times along with the name of itadori yuuji, whom you vividly recognized as sukuna's vessel.

your boyfriend then ended the call after cheerfully marveling out a goodbye. and just then, like something dawned upon you, your eyes traveled to him, "can you help me send a message to you."

gojo raises his brow in apparent confusion, but he nodded anyways, "to me? about what? why don't you just say it to me now, baby? 'm right here, why do you have to send me a message?"

"because there are a lot of things i want to ask for the next time you go on a mission," you mutter.

he tapped on your phone screen a couple of times, eyebrows furrowing deeply, "baby, why aren't i in your messages? did you block me?" his heart dropped to his stomach when he showed you the phone screen.

you wondered why he never bothered on checking the various profile pictures that sat inside a small sphere right beside their respectable contact names — sighing, you grabbed your phone and showed him the screen again, "what do you mean? you're pinned, right there," you pointed your index finger towards the message at the very top.

gojo blinked his cerulean blue eyes vigorously, eyeing the contact. my pretty boy. with a red heart emoji he never saw you use along your messages to anyone, not even him.

but there his contact sat on the very top, with a nickname, and an emoji. his mouth formed a little 'o' and he looks at you, "you named me your pretty boy?" his voice came out delicate, as if he was still washed over in surprise.

nodding your head, gojo slipped himself into your embrace, leaning his head into the space in between your neck and shoulder blade. his soft breaths hitting your skin, "satoru?"

"'m so happy, i could die." he dramatically whispers, "i'm pinned, you gave me a nickname, and then a red heart emoji? baby, do you know how happy that makes me?"

he slightly pulls back from you, staring into your eyes as you slowly shake your head, wondering what has gotten into him this time.

"did you really think i'd name anyone else that when you're my boyfriend, 'toru?" you questioned him, poking his cheek, "you didn't even question about my pinned message too."

gojo leaned his forehead towards yours, "what can i say? it's not like you could cheat on someone like me, 'm too charming," he teases you with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, resulting in you scrunching it up slightly.

"whatever you say," you tell him, "what i was going to tell you is that — could you bring me back a lot of kikufuku next time? you ate everything last time and i didn't get any."

he chuckles, "anything for you, and yes you did get a lot."

"if one piece out of twelve is a lot, then i'm sorry for being dramatic," gojo laughs softly at the sight of how serious you looked while saying the said statement, "why're you laughing?"

he shook his head, "you're just too cute."

"can you send the message now so you won't forget the next time? and pin it, please. i really want them," gojo tangled his slender fingers in your hair, brushing them back.

"baby, i could get them for you right now, you know that?"

"i know, but you seemed very busy today so i could wait until you finish a mission," you mumbled, hand on his arm, rubbing them up and down his skin, "didn't want to bother you today."

gojo frowns a bit, "you're never a bother, say it. come on, say it."

you eye him oddly, "say what?"

"that you want me to go get you some kikufuku, three box, six box, ten, a hundred, you name me a number and i'll get them for you right now." he cooed — he brushed his lips against the side of your face, "come on, 'm waiting."

breaking a ghost of a smile, you nod, "i want them now, two box. one for you and one for me," raising up two fingers.

gojo nodded, "two box it is, pretty boy express coming through," he finally pecked your lips delightfully.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #fluff #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #female reader #satoru gojo

[osaemu]

WHEN YOU'RE SICK: STREAMER!GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you have a cold, and he has a bag of sweets—how does your streamer boyfriend comfort you when you're sick? (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. fluff. pet names. very self-indulgent bc i'm sick right now and needed this for myself :,) can mostly be read outside of the streamer!au i guess.

“i brought you some sweets!”

you look up drowsily when your boyfriend’s familiar voice pulls you out of your sleep. your eyes slowly adjust to the soft lighting of your room and to the perfect, sharp features of the face inches from yours. “satoru, how are you here—”

he cuts you off by pressing a finger to your lips, and a moment later, satoru slips some sort of candy into your mouth. “‘cause you’re sick, and i’m a good boyfriend. obviously,” he teases, smiling endearingly when your eyes light up from the sugary taste of whatever satoru gave you. “how’d you catch a cold, anyways?”

you sit up a little bit, resting your back against the headboard and your head on satoru’s shoulder. “i’m not actually sure,” you admit, snuggling into the arm that wraps itself around you.  “aw, you’re wearing the hoodie i got you,” you point out, tapping on his chest. it’s a small inside joke between the two of you—the logo on the top left of the hoodie is the one from the streamer inmaki’s channel, a user who has a long-standing reputation for being one of your boyfriend’s haters.

“only because i practically ran out of the house once i got your text,” satoru huffs, rolling his blue eyes good-naturedly. he notices the little smile on your face and the way you cover your mouth in an attempt to hide your laugh, so he pulls out his phone from his pocket and adds, “hey, what was i supposed to do when i get a message like this?”

random girl i guess i like: can u come over :( i’m sick and imy

“why’d you change my contact to ‘random girl i guess i like?’” you gasp dramatically, snatching satoru’s phone away from him. a nervous laugh slips out of your boyfriend’s lips before you turn on him, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “if i looked at suguru’s contact, what would i see next?”

“...you don’t wanna know.”

“satoru gojo, answer me or i swear—” you don’t get to finish your threat before a sneeze cuts you off, followed by two more that leave you deflated in satoru’s arms. somehow, your head slides down from his shoulder and ends up on his chest, and a look of concern overtakes satoru’s expression.

“how sick are you?” he asks tentatively, fishing out another candy from his pocket and prodding at your lips with it. you open your mouth and let him feed you, taking a second to relish the sweetness of the sugar-loaded bite before you shrug and sniffle again. “poor thing,” satoru coos, rounding his eyes down at you while you rub your nose to get rid of the subtle itching sensation. 

“i can’t stop sniffling,” you mumble dryly, staring up at satoru pathetically. it’s as if you’re a wet cat that’s been sitting in the rain for hours, and as if he’s the kind old man who takes you in and dries you off. satoru’s slender fingers thread themselves through your dishelved hair, stroking it and twining it around his hand. “s’ been like this for hou— no, days,” you continue, determined to complain for at least the next couple minutes. “and—”

satoru’s hands move from the top of your head to your cheeks, cupping them intensely enough to hold your face still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. you make a small sound in protest, not wanting to get him sick too, but he ignores you and peppers feather-like kisses all over your face. “you’re so cute like this, y’know?” he murmurs, squishing your face in between his hands. “all rumpled and bedhead-y, aww.”

“satoru, you’ll get sick,” you point out, futilely trying to lean away from his lips when he goes back in for a kiss again. “satoru!”

“i don’t care,” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when you try to pull on the strings of his hoodie. “you’re my girlfriend, and if i wanna kiss you, then i will. and i don’t care if i get sick, ‘cause i have a pretty girl to take care of me anyways, don’t i?”

you stop protesting and let him press his lips back to yours again, and even though you sniffle again about three times, satoru’s as devoted to you as ever. “really?”

“yeah. my mom— ow, i mean, you too!” he adds quickly, grinning playfully even when you swat his chest. “i’m joking, i’m joking. have some candy, sweet girl.” before you can say anything, satoru shoves a handful of bright, colorful sweets in your mouth and kisses your nose. “take a nap. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

somehow, the moment you hear satoru’s murmured reassurances, your eyes grow heavy and you surrender yourself to his grip. “m’kay…” you mumble, closing your eyes and exhaling softly. and maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel satoru’s suppressed laughter as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

… 

“wait, now what do i do?”

#osaemu #streamer!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles