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megamindsecretlair · 2 months

Text

When It Feels Right

Pairing: Lamont Diggs x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, protected PIV, oral (female receiving) fingering (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word. Drug use.

Summary: Lamont invited you to his studio to help work on his new beat. You help him in more ways than one.

Word Count: 5,057k

A/N: Hello, my loves. I have been feral for this man since watching this show. This was LONG overdue. This is the winner of the Fic poll, thank you to everyone who voted! ONE SHOT. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @wide-nose-and-wonderful @hereformiles @flydotty @blackerthings @notapradagurl7

Lamont released a heavy cloud of smoke in the air. You bobbed your head to the new beat he made. Lamont matched your bobbing head, a slow grin working its way across his face. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, trying to feel the beat without him coloring your opinion.

Just because he was your best friend didn’t mean that you couldn’t lay down the truth when needed. The good Lord knew that he didn’t need an even bigger head.

As the beat faded and came to a close, Lamont clapped his hands in the too silent studio. It was a rare night where he didn’t have Melissa, couldn’t sleep, and his boys weren’t in the background smoking up all the weed.

“Go on and tell me that’s hot!” He yelled and clapped his hands again. He played with a few switches on the switchboard and then swung his chair to face you. You swung idly on your own chair, back and forth.

You gave him a funny look, not willing to admit that it was good. Of course it was good. Dude really knew his fucking craft.

“It’s aight,” you said and dismissed him with a wave.

“Bullshit!” Lamont yelled. The joint hung from his lips as his long, delicate fingers flew over switches and knobs and he ran the track back. The deep bass thumped through the speakers once more and he turned to you, brows furrowing to gauge your reaction.

“Damn, I’m playing!” You said and giggled. You pushed away from his too intense stare. He sucked his teeth and pushed you back.

“Tell me what you really think, damn,” he said.

“Nah, that shit is fire, Lamont. Seriously, you tore this up,” you said.

“Thanks, thanks. Just need some dope lyrics on it. Tired of them mumble rapper m’fucka’s,” Lamont said.

He shook his head, his locs tussling over his face and dropping into his eyes. Your hand itched to push it away so you could continue looking at him. You swung your chair away from him so that your face didn’t give you away. It was the weed talking, nothing more.

You played with the sleeves of your sweater, swinging around and around in circles until his studio became a dizzy array of green and red. Like Christmas. That was a much safer line of thinking. You could think about lights, gingerbread houses, and pinecones and not about how Lamont’s lips poked out, ready to be kissed.

Lamont turned down the beat and deposited the joint in the nearby ashtray. The smell was loud, filling your senses with its aroma. You smacked his shoulder as you passed him and then smacked it again until he relented and handed it to you.

You took a lungful, holding it in and rolling it around your tongue before releasing it back out into the studio. You watched the smoke lift towards the popcorn ceiling, wishing it would take your thoughts with it. You smoked so that your brain could pause like a TV show. So that you could stop to take in the details around you and make sense of it.

Your stomach turned and roiled so you stuck your foot out to slow your spins. Lamont was on his phone scrolling through Instagram.

“You always on that damn phone,” you said, grinning as you realized that you sounded like your mama.

“Okay, Ms. Etta,” he said.

“Shut up! That is not my mama name!”

Lamont peeked at you from the curtain of his locs and smirked, holding out his hand for the joint. You took one last inhale, the burning embers at the end filling your peripheral vision before you handed it back to him. He dumped the ashes and then took a puff, putting it down on the ashtray.

Lamont returned his attention back to his phone, head slightly bouncing to the beat he made. Your eyes slowly tracked over all of the mini orange, red, and green lights blinking from the switchboard.

This was the kind of laid back music that would be in a lounge somewhere. Your mind’s eye filled in details of blue ambient lighting. Black men and women and those in between dressed in their finest business casual. Men in deep, monochromatic suits and shiny shoes. Women in dresses a hair shy of too short, showing off long, thick legs and strappy high heels.

You pictured glasses clinking, words whispered amongst friends, and glances thrown across the room. Ballers sending trays of drinks to the group of women at the bar knowing exactly what they were doing by leaning over it.

It was a type of sexy beat that you felt in your inner thighs first. The thrumming bass making your thighs jiggle. Warming heat working its way up your spine until you couldn’t help but nod your head, bump your shoulders, and look at your friend to see if they were feeling the beat like you were.

You turned to Lamont, ready to tell him, when his nose was buried in his phone again. You groaned and reached out to slap your hand over the phone.

“You said you wanted no distractions tonight, remember?” You asked.

“I’m done with the beat though,” he said. He moved his phone out of your way and you leaned over a little further to try and snatch it from his fingers. His arms were longer than yours and he easily held it away from you.

“You said not to let you get distracted. Hand it here,” you said. You snapped your fingers. Lamont shook his head, his locs whipping across his face. His gold chain glinted in the low lighting and it was stark against his white T-shirt, dyed green in the studio lighting.

“You ain’t gon’ snap yo fingers like you somebody,” he said.

“I AM! SOME-BODY!” You cackled at your own joke, eyes wide and smiling so big that your cheeks ached.

“Goofy ass. You need to stay off this shit,” he said.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you said. You continued to reach across the short space between you, trying to reach his phone. You were high, but not that high. Your thoughts were coherent and slow. Like you could pluck each of them out and lay them on a blanket. That you could take your time and choose between them like choosing your outfit.

“C’mon, watch out,” he said. He nudged you back but you were undeterred. Your tongue stuck out of your mouth, so deep in your concentration. Lamont chuckled, effortlessly fighting you off.

You huffed and you huffed but you could not blow this wolf down. You sat back in the seat and sighed. “For real, Lamont. I did not come over here, at midnight, just for you to play on your phone. I wanna see some magic,” you said.

“Girl, I just showed yo ass the Magic Kingdom,” he said.

You laughed at his corny ass line and shook your head. “One beat is all you got?” You asked.

“All I got?” Lamont scoffed, affronted that you would even suggest such a thing.

You inwardly grinned, using your knowledge of him to your advantage. He always rose to the occasion. He was almost too easy as he sat forward in his seat. His left hand dropped the phone in between you while he focused on the board once more.

Where you only saw switches and gears, he saw instruments. This board was a modern orchestra and he knew exactly which sounds to pull from it. Which drums sounded dirty enough to warrant adding snares and strings.

You snatched his phone from beside him. He instantly balked, trying to get it back from you. You didn’t have the length he did, so you had to resort to putting it behind your back and trying to slide your chair away from him.

He put one hand on your chair to stop your retreat and then the other went in search of his missing phone.

“C’mon, stop playing!” He laughed as he struggled to get the phone from you.

You only had so many places to stick it. You kept moving it like you were playing hot potato with it, tossing it from one hand to the other. “You come on! I know why you call me here. So I can keep yo ass focused!”

“I focus just fine without you. Ever think I just want your company?” He asked.

“Duh, you always want my company,” you teased, still moving the phone every two seconds while he lunged for it. A giddy feeling swelled in your chest like a balloon, filling up all of your hollow crevices and giving you the feeling of floating despite feeling heavy.

“Always? You loud and wrong,” he said. He sat back with a huff, eying you. You grinned, looking for any type of eye twitch or flicker. Anything to indicate that he would make a sudden move and try to snatch it from you.

“Oh? I guess I should just leave then,” you said. You leaned out of the chair, butt hovering over the seat that was practically molded to your ass by now. You felt a few twinges. The side effect of sitting too long. All this cushion in your ass didn’t mean shit.

“Man, sit yo ass down and hand me my phone. Please?” Lamont asked. But the please was not sincere. You stuck out your tongue while you placed the phone down your shirt.

The warm metal laid across your skin and you grinned at Lamont’s expression. His face kind of froze. Or paused while he stared at your chest. It was nothing new for the two of you, so you couldn’t name why it made your belly flip.

“You think that’s gon’ stop me?” He asked. Was it you or did his voice get a little deeper? A little rougher?

You adjusted the phone against your cleavage and threw up your hands. “What you gon’ do?” You asked.

Lamont licked his lips, a small smile forming on his lips. “You know I can just turn you upside down and shake you like a toy?”

Nope. That did not make your pussy flutter. You did not imagine shaking for entirely different reasons.

There was always this thickness between you and Lamont. A sort of sticky, gooey middle that kept you glued to his side all these years. You had been friends for so long, you didn’t remember the exact number. Where one went, there went the other. There was always a lingering look, a hand on the hip placed too long, a bite to the lip.

You never crossed the line. The timing was never right. Either you were with somebody or he was. He was nursing your broken heart while you were getting him turnt up for his. He had an entire baby with Mia who had him wrapped around her tiny manicured pinky. Despite his protests otherwise.

Now. Now you were both single. Unattached. No messy drama getting in the way.

“Whatever, Lamont. I am here to keep you on track,” you said. You shook your head and smacked your lips. “Literally and figuratively.”

“Gimme my phone,” he said, that same rough voice dancing along the sticky gooeyness that made your toes curl. He didn’t need to see the way you looked down trying to get yourself under control.

“What you gon’ do?” You asked, rolling your neck for emphasis.

He smiled and shook his head. He waved his fingers in a ‘come on’ gesture and you smacked his hand.

“What you gon’ do? What you gon’ do?” You kept asking, waiting for him to reply. To say something. Anything. You were tossing out the question like a fishing line, baiting him with delicious chum. With the irresistible urge to either latch on and let you know that it wasn’t just you or toss it aside and let it drop once and for all.

“Say it one more time and I’ll show you what I’m gon’ do,” he said.

“What you gon’ do?” You said slowly, enunciating each word so there were no misunderstandings.

Lamont’s hand shot out and pulled your fuzzy sweater away from your chest. His other hand snuck up your shirt and went fishing around for his phone. But his hands roamed too broadly, lightly squeezing your titty every so often.

“Lamont!” You yelled.

He licked his lips and got closer. His breath fanned across your face, a subtle mix of candy and weed. His hand continued to roam while he slowly closed the distance between your lips. He looked at you the entire time, giving you ample opportunity to back away.

But you wanted this. You casted that fishing line out into the ether, so you closed the distance for him. You pressed your lips against his finally. Your dreams didn’t come close. It was nothing like what you thought it would be and everything you dreamt it could.

His lips were soft against yours. Smooth tongue running over your lips and sloppily slanting against yours. You hummed, low and softly but you were sure he heard it. His hands continued to roam under your shirt, no longer seeking his phone.

Instead, his hands found your breasts and began to knead them, fingers grappling for your nipple. As soon as his fingers found that little pebble – no bra because you hadn’t felt like throwing on one just to chill with Lamont – he squeezed and rolled it between his fingers.

��Oh shit,” you said against his lips, finally pulling back far enough to get some air. Some room.

“Mhm,” he moaned. “You think I ain’t been paying attention these past few years?” He asked.

“Wh-what you mean?” You asked. He rolled his lips around yours, kissing you but only just so. His wide nose danced against yours. One thing about high sex that you loved was how sensitive you became. How the little hairs on your skin picked up the different changes in temperature or tingled with every brush of skin.

“All them nasty ass stories you liked to tell. About how men never hit it how you like,” he said.

He switched his hand to your other titty, seeking your nipple a lot faster. He rolled it in between your fingers and your breath stuttered.

Already, he was leagues better than half the guys you’d been with. Or perhaps it was your lingering, previously unclaimed chemistry, doing most of the work for you. This was inevitable. Your lips would always meet his. His hands would always press into your skin.

“You remember that?” You asked.

“Kept hoping it would be me in one of them stories. ‘Cept, I know what I’m doin’,” he said.

You giggled and pushed away from him. “Big fuckin’ words, boy,” you said.

Lamont had a playful frown on his face, considering your words, before he slapped his hands onto the arm rests of your chair. He caged you in your chair while he leaned down for more kisses.

His lips were like little clouds of heaven. Each one sweet, soft, and lazy. He lowered himself to his knees, still too tall for his own good. He kept kissing you, even while his hands went roaming again.

He pulled your sweater off and took in the white tank underneath. His lips found yours again as if he didn’t want to be gone too long. He mixed in nips and licks to keep you on your toes. He grabbed his phone from out of your tank and placed it on the edge of the switch board.

He returned his attention to your body, kissing and biting you through the fabric of your tank. You felt him, but you didn’t really feel him. You lifted the tank and threw it over your head.

Cool air from the studio hit your upper body and you immediately shivered. Even with the thumping beat and lingering smoke, you weren’t warm enough. Lamont helped you lower your leggings and panties, pulling them off and throwing them across the room.

You were fully naked, staring into his dark eyes while he was still dressed. He leaned back, took in your curves, dips, and valleys with a satisfied grin.

“So that’s what you look like underneath all them damn sweaters. You been keepin’ this from me?” He asked.

He rubbed the goosebumps from your arms, scooting in between your legs and making you spread them wider to accommodate him. He looked you in the eye while he lifted one leg, kissed it, ran his tongue right behind your knee before placing it on the arm rest.

You felt ready to explode. He did the same to your other leg, but trailed more kisses down the length of it before placing it on the arm rest.

“You gon’ answer me?” He asked.

“Waat?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You were just gon’ keep hiding this from me?” He asked.

“I-I wasn’t trynna hide it,” you said. Your words were slow to form and even slower to get out.

“You wasn’t? Then why I ain’t never get a taste yet?” He asked.

He leaned across your body. His cotton shirt was almost too rough against your skin. You hissed, moving away from him but he moved forward anyway. The shirt tickled your skin but you didn’t have enough air in your lungs to giggle.

Anticipation flipped in your belly, like it was playing hopscotch in there. You didn’t know what he was going to do next. You were on an infinite precipice of waiting.

He didn’t make you wait long. He kissed you, moving his hands between you to brush his fingers along your wet seam. You jerked in the chair but he had you effectively pinned. You had nowhere to go. Trapped in the chair with him covering your naked body.

You moaned, licked your lips in between kisses, and then went back to feeling those sexy lips on yours.

His fingers pushed in, separating your pussy lips and dipping into your heated essence. He moaned into your lips, tugging on your bottom lip. “You always get this wet?” He asked.

“Uh-uh,” you said.

“No? I just bring that out of you?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you said. You had no words. With every swipe of his fingers, he pulled them out of your head. Each pass of his fingers around your clit made one more word disappear like air.

“So that means I get to taste it right?” He asked. He moved his nose against yours and you sighed, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you said, lips finding his again and again. His wet, suckling kisses made you see stars behind your eyelids.

His knuckle nudged into your clit and you hissed, releasing the air in short bursts. “Oh, she a little excited,” he said.

“Oh shit,” you moaned. “Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you? I like teasing you. I finally know how to shut that attitude up,” he said.

“You too damn cocky,” you moaned.

“Still running that mouth,” he said. He moved his fingers to dip in and out of your pussy, pushing his fingers deep to his knuckle. Your mouth dropped open, eyes turned bruising.

He moved his lips to your jaw and kissed down to your neck. He sprinkled kisses across your chest and then licked your nipple into his mouth, suckling. “Oh my god,” you gasped, back lifting from the chair.

Your pussy greedily sucked his fingers inside. “That’s right. Grip them fingers. Show me you like what I’m doing to you. Getting wetter over here, I’m gon’ have to buy a new chair,” he whispered around your nipple.

Your hands came up to play with his locs, rolling them between your fingers and loving the feel of them. You were in sensory overload. Everything was too much and not enough. Lamont’s filthy words had you screaming towards a climax, thighs shaking and pussy gripping him tighter.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Been dyin’ to know what you look like when you cum. You gon’ look like that riding this dick? Huh? How many pretty faces can you make while I’m rearranging your guts?” He asked.

“Lamont!” You twitched.

He continued to pump his fingers as you calmed down. It was like he was exploring your pussy with his fingers. Trying to gauge how deep you could take him. Your grip tightened around his neck and he hummed, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

When you relaxed against the chair, Lamont slowed down his fingers until stopping altogether. He licked his fingers and moaned. “Taste so fuckin’ good. You doing okay?” He asked.

You nodded, loosening your grip on his neck. You wiped up run away drool, feeling a bit embarrassed that a little finger action made you cum quicker than a man in a porn store.

Lamont shook his head, shaking the locs from his face as he pressed his face into your pussy. He took a loud, deep breathe and blew air between your pussy lips.

“Oh shit!” You screamed, hands flying back to his head. You gripped his hair while he began to eat you out in earnest, using his tongue first.

He leaned back and hummed, slapped your pussy. “Damn,” he moaned. “So fuckin’ good.” He was a messy eater, digging in like it was his last meal. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. He brought his hands up to roll your nipples between his fingers, squeezing and squeezing until he pinched them.

“Fuck, fuck. Lamont! Damn,” you moaned, biting your lip. Fuck! It felt too good. So damn good with his lips between your thighs and his locs tickling your skin, and your hands digging into his head. Smashing his face into your pussy, giving him free rein to explore this thing between you.

“Name sound sexy on your lips. Say it again,” he said, coming up for a bite of air.

“Lamont,” you said with a grin. His eyes flicked to yours while he continued to make out with your pussy.

“Again,” he said, muffled against your wet core.

Lamont!” You moaned while your orgasm was cresting the surface. Pressure built in your lower belly, getting so close with each new flick. Each new lick. Each new moan that told you he liked what was between your thighs. The thought that you could please him, even by the small act of being wet for him, turned the tide.

Your hand flew back to the back of the chair to steady you while your back arched. “Oh shit, Lamont!” Your neck rolled against the top of the chair while your body twitched and convulsed. Your body turned limp, riding the orgasm wherever it took you. However you looked while you spasmed.

“Tasting so fuckin’ good. Fuck, I been missing out,” Lamonst said into your pussy. He continued to lap like a cat to cream. “So fuckin’ sweet. So fuckin’ good.”

He lumbered to his feet, tossing off his white shirt. His chain bounced against his dark skin. His tattoos were darker still, spread out all over his body. You watched him through slitted eyes while he unzipped his pants.

He freed his dick and rubbed the hardened length. Shit, he was perfect. Big and girthy. It was always the skinniest niggas that packed the biggest punch. It had a slight curve to it and your pussy clenched just seeing it.

He dug into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, flipping it open and grabbing a condom. He tore it open, found the right side, and then pinched the tip. You watched him as he rolled it onto his dick, adjusting here or there until it was fully on.

He pushed your thighs back on the chair. It protested with a loud groan, conflicting with a different beat in the background. Something laid back, lazy, and slow. Light danced over his features while he leaned forward, towering over you bent like a pretzel in his chair.

“You feelin’ aiight?” He asked.

“Yes, nigga!” You said with a smack of your teeth. He chuckled, grabbing your throat with his left hand. Your eyes rolled involuntarily, hand flying to grab his wrist. Not to push him away, but to keep him there. To push for more pressure.

He obliged you, squeezing harder until you were ready to cum just from that. “You must need some dick to get you right,” he said.

“Umph, yesss,” you moaned.

He used his right hand to grip his dick and run it through your damp folds, getting the condom slick with your wetness. He pushed in slowly. You hissed, pushing against his thighs.

“Uh-uh, don’t push me away. Move them hands,” he said.

“But Lamont–”

“Move. Them. Hands,” he growled, getting close to your face and squeezing your neck.

You moved your hands with a whine. He was too damn big. He rolled his hips, sliding inside of you and working his way deeper. Your hands flew back to his thighs, pushing at him.

“Move them fuckin’ hands,” he rasped.

“Please,” you begged. You were going to pass out. There was too much pleasure. Too much desire and lust. Too much of him. His scent, his sighs, his scorching looks. He lit fires in your veins that made you whimper and pout.

“Move them fuckin’ hands right now,” he said.

Again, your hands slid away from his sweat-slick thighs with a whine. The sound was needy and desperate. You had no way of slowing this down. Slowing it down to a pace you could quickly adjust to.

His dick didn’t hurt, he just stretched you deliciously. So much so that you had a goofy smile spread across your lips like icing on a cake. You moved your hands back to his hand on your neck.

He rolled and moved his hips, stroking into you with deep, long thrusts at a steady pace that stole your breath. You whined, choppy hums in your throat. “Why you doin’ this to meeee,” you moaned.

“‘Cause I been waiting too long to get in this pussy. I’ma enjoy that shit,” he said. He smirked and dropped down to kiss you while he stroked deeper still.

You sank onto his dick while he rolled his hips, moaning with every glide. He lifted his head and rolled his neck, closing his eyes. You watched his face while he stroked, watched as he found some type of groove like your body was the switchboard and he was making a complicated beat.

He lined up perfectly. Your back arched. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Right there, right there, Lamont,” you moaned.

“Right there?” He asked. He kept hitting your sweet spot, not deviating in the slightest.

“Right there, oh my god, I’m gon’ cum,” you moaned.

“Give it to me. Let me feel that pretty pussy grippin’ this dick. She feel so fuckin’ good. Wrapped around this dick. This what you needed? Huh? This what you needed? Them other niggas ain’t have all this for you, did they?”

Each of his questions grew fainter as your orgasm came closer and closer. Your hand pushed against his chest. Your eyes were too far in the back of your head. You were worrying a groove into your bottom lip by biting too hard.

“You still with me? This dick got yo tongue?” He asked.

“I’m-” You came with a loud moan, louder than you had ever moaned before. You twitched in the chair, the groans from it sounded violent. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Feel so good, Lamont!” You cried out. Yelled out.

It was a good thing that you were in a proper studio and there was no one around to hear you. Had you been at your place, your neighbors would know his fucking name.

Your hands scratched at his stomach while he chuckled and kept stroking. “Fuck. You squeezin’ the fuck outta me. You ain’t trynna let me go, huh? Now that you know I know how to hit it right. What got you screaming. What got you moaning. What got you cummin’ on this dick like that,” he said.

“Oh baby,” you moaned.

“I’m baby now? What happened to my name?” He asked.

At this point, you didn’t know your own name. You clenched around his dick and he cursed, slamming into you one more time before you felt him twitch inside. You had an errant fantasy about him cumming inside you, spilling his fat load into you and then fucking it into you.

You tucked that particular one to the back of your mind while Lamont dropped against you, loosening his grip around your throat. Your matching pants and gasps made the moment soft but fuzzy around the edges. Like when you first woke up from a good nap and didn’t know what year it was or what you were doing beforehand.

Lamont slipped out of you, stumbling back. He took off the condom, tied the ends, and threw it in the nearest trash can. He sat in own chair. He tucked himself back in but didn’t zip up his pants.

You slowly lowered your legs from the chair, feeling thoroughly fucked out. You looked towards Lamont who was studying you in the same way. He smiled first. Your smile matched his as the gravity of what you just did sunk in.

Sunk down deep into your bones. There was no going back from this. There was no way to pretend this didn’t exist. That he wasn’t just deep enough in your guts to still feel the lingering effects. You felt empty without him.

“We wasted too much fuckin’ time,” he said softly. You nodded and licked your lips.

You tapped the tips of your fingers trying to reorient yourself. Bring yourself down to reality. The reality of you with Lamont. You smiled. “Let’s not waste anymore.”

You had sex again on his red, leather couch. Nasty, intense sex where his hands were back around your throat, he was stroking deep in your guts, and staring into your eyes while he continued to shatter your world over and over again. You grinned and giggled in between his nasty words and your faint pleas for mercy.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but you were excited to find out.

THE END

Psst, over here! The Secret Lamont Files.

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freckledjoes · 25 days

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Eddie and Steve together on a nightly boat trip.

Maybe it's something they do when the nightmares keep them up, you know, as a means of facing their fears. Maybe it's the quiet that draws them in. Maybe it's the comfort they have only found in each other with the newly shared memories scattered all over their bodies in pink, blotched lines. Maybe it's a promise to never let the other feel alone again. Maybe one night, it's a date.

#don't repost #steddie #steddie imagine #eddie munson #steve harrington #my-gifs #em-gifs #sh-gifs #jq-gifs #jk-gifs #eddie munson gifs #steve harrington gifs #joekeeryedit #josephquinnedit

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hubbydaddies · 1 year

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Kazuki goes out drinking with other moms to rant about his husband being a “one trick pony.”

#buddy daddies #kazurei #he loves gossip #they’re so married #lol imagine in the beginning of their #official family #Kazuki tries to get with a girl only to start #showing pictures of Miri and crying over his family.#they see Rei and then ask about him and they come to the conclusion they’re married #and at one point he’s like oh sh*t! we are!

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madi-writes-things · 23 days

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Nobody Pt. 1

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,009

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it definitely happens and is talked about), Blood, Violence, Hurt Comfort, Not edited, Bad stuff under the cut

A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to pop in t let you know that my DM’s are always open if you need someone to talk to. I use y writing as a safe and healthy outlets for the destructive thoughts, but reading i these sorts of things isn’t healthy for everyone… keep yourself safe.

-Madi <3

Y/N’s POV

“”“”“”“”“”

“What do you want?” I ask when I see Chris walk into my room without knocking. I didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but it just kind of happens when i talk to him. I don’t even remember why we hate each other, and i bet he doesn’t either… its just always been like this.

“Nick was too lazy to come upstairs…” he stared at me for a second before continuing. “We’re going out to film, do you want us to get You something for dinner?”

“I’ll just text nick what I want” as he leaves i wonder if he even cares. I only live with him because Nick and Matt begged me to come to LA with them after HighSchool. Nick and i have been best friends since eighth grade when I transferred to their district, and Matt has always been nice to me… but Chris never seemed to like me, eventually i stopped going out of my way to be nice to him.

I hear the door closes, quickly followed by the sound of Matt pulling out of the driveway.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did i get here? Nick would be so mad at me… he would never say it, but i know it’s frustrating when people you care about keep making the same mistakes. I look down at my thighs, realizing that I can’t even see the individual cuts through the blood. I should have just woken Nick up, if i had I wouldn’t be in this situation.

The tears have mostly stopped flowing at this point, and the adrenaline is dying down. The weight of what I’ve done starts to set in. I need to clean this up, I need to get help, I need to get Nic-

“What the fuck” as I look up I’m met with the icy blue eyes of Chris. Before I can process what is happening he is yanking the blade out of my hand and flushing it down the toilet. “Y/N, look at me… what happened?” Seeing the panic in his eyes makes me feel bad, he was never supposed to have to deal with this.

“Can you please get the first aid kit from under my bed?” The words roll off my tongue with ease. He just stared at me with fear in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, just go” with that he turned around and went to my room.

Chris returned a few minutes later, with my large first aid kit, and a gas station bag in his hands. I had been desperately trying to clean up some of the mess with toilet paper, but I was mostly failing. “Can you please sit on the side of the bathtub?” I stared up at him in confusion. “Please Y/N… please just let me help you clean up”

“do you even know what you’re doing?” His response consisted of turning his phone to face me, an article on how to clean self harm wounds staring back at me. “Fine…” I did what he asked and positioned myself on the side of the tub.

Chris started by wiping up what I had missed from the floor, quickly moving to sit in between my legs. As he started cleaning me up, I realized how intimate our position was. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, but I could tell that he was holding back tears. After he stopped all the bleeding, and cleaned off the wounds he just stared for a second… and it broke me.

the tears started streaming down my face again, nothing could’ve stopped them. “Don’t tell Nick… he can’t know I’m doing this again.”

He finally looked up at me, taking a breath to steady himself before speaking. “again?” I just stared. He finished up what he was doing in silence before finally speaking. “Ok… I won’t tell Nick, as long as you let me help you with this”

“I don’t need help Chris.” He didn’t respond, causing me to panic. “Fine, but nobody can know about this.” He held out his pinky, I locked mine into his… an unspoken promise between us.

Chris disposed of any evidence, before carrying me to his room. I was too tired to protest, and it’s not like anyone would be up early enough to notice. He gave me a pair of sweats, and climbed into the bed with me.

“”“”“”“”“”

I woke up to Chris laying practically on top of me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. For a moment I didn’t mind… until I saw the time.

“wake up!” I shook him lightly, his eyes flutter open before widening at the position he was currently in. “I need to get up, me and Nick are supposed to go get breakfast for a video… he can’t know that I slept in here.” Chris quickly rolled off of me, and I rushed down the stairs.

As I made my way into the living room I could see Matt and Nick, sitting in silence. They looked at me at the same time, just as Chris came down the stairs to join us.

“Why are you wearing his sweat pants?” Nick stared daggers into my soul. “They must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry…” I hated lying to my best friend, but he couldn’t know.

“I see… what’s your fake excuse for being in his bed this morning?” I looked at Chris quickly as we walked closer to his brothers. He met my eyes, unsure of what the right decision was.

“please Chris…” I whispered. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.” I see Chris make a decision, and before I can stop him he opens his mouth.

“We slept together.” He looked at me, apologizing with his eyes. I look between Nick and Matt, trying to judge their reactions. While this wasn’t ideal, it was better than the truth… until I saw Nick get up.

in a matter of seconds Nick had punched Chris across the face. After flexing his hand, he looked at me with nothing but hatred before walking away.

#madi makes things #madi writes things #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt #nick sturniolo #sh!reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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gazkerber · 8 months

Text

...Why does Goromi look so good wearing Maria's outfit from Silent Hill 2?

Obligatory Kiryu as James Sunderland lol

...The monsters don't stand a chance 😂

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

I love your works! If you're willing, can you write something about tasm!Peter just like finding out about reader's sh scars? I'm not sure if you've done this already or not and I'm going through a tough time so I just really want some Peter comfort 😭. If you're not comfortable that's totally understandable! Please don't feel pressured to do this ❤️

Thank you sweetheart, I really hope your tough time is getting a bit easier or does soon <33

cw: past self-harm

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 775 words

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re comfortable enough around Peter to forget. Even though you’ve only been dating a few months, you feel (sappily) like you’ve known him for years. You just fit together. Going over to his place is like going to your parents’ house or your best friend’s; it’s already home for you, comfy and welcoming in a way that usually only comes with history. Peter feels like he was yours before you met him.

That sense of familiarity is probably why you don’t think to be self-conscious. It’s the first day of the year that New York is warm enough to go out without a jacket, and you’re celebrating with a short-sleeved top and a skirt. Both thin and airy, perfect for the day you’ve planned at the park. Peter’s packing your lunches when you step out of the bedroom, feeling very cute.

Your confidence is rewarded. Peter grins, mouth dropping open coyly, and whistles when you do a little twirl for him.

“I’m gonna have to play interference between you and other guys all day,” he says, not sounding particularly unhappy about the prospect as he passes you your water bottle. “I filled this up so we have more than just soda, that okay?”

“Good idea.” You nod, taking it and putting it in your bag.

You look back up, and somehow your boyfriend’s mood has changed in the space of a second. A furrow has appeared between his brows, eyes stuck on where your arm brushes against the fabric of your skirt at your side.

“What’s…” His brows twitch and he holds a hand out. “Can I see your arm?”

You give it to him unthinkingly, an awkward sort of foreboding taking root in your gut. Peter holds it with extreme gentleness, rotating it so the delicate skin of your forearm is exposed to the light. It’s only then that you remember he might not know. His quiet inhale confirms it.

“Sweetheart…” His thumb brushes over the scar nearest, and you can practically see his mind flashing through memories of long sleeves, dark nights in his bed, the way you’d insisted on changing in the bathroom when you’d first started staying over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you’re not sure what for. For upsetting him, maybe. Even though it was inevitable. Honestly, your closeness with Peter had almost made you forget he hadn’t already seen them. He’s got to be the last person in your small circle of family and friends who hadn’t known. You’re not secretive about that part of your past. You blame it on the timing of your relationship; you’d started dating when the weather got cold, and it had just never come up.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he says softly, an automatic response to your chronic over-apologizing. “Can I just…can I ask when this happened?”

“It was a long time ago,” you reassure him. “I haven’t done it for years.”

His brown eyes flit up from your arm to meet yours. “Have you wanted to?”

Your breath gets caught in your lungs. You hold his gaze. “Not for a while.”

He exhales slowly, nodding. It feels odd to have your arm handled this gently. Peter’s always so kind with you, but the way he’s touching you now…it’s like he thinks the skin will break again if he’s not careful.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You make a quiet, demurring sound. “For what?”

“Just that I wasn’t there. I don’t like the idea of you hurting without me.”

“Pete.” Your voice is gentle, chiding. “We didn’t even know each other back then.”

“Exactly.” He releases your arm, hand moving to cup your face. “I just wish I’d known you, that’s all.”

His eyes are soft on yours, unasking. Fond in a way that makes your throat clog. “You don’t have to worry about me,” you say.

“I like worrying about you.” His mouth tilts upward, cupid’s bow stretching. “But if you don’t want me to worry about this, I won’t. Just…you’d tell me if anything changed, right?”

“I would,” you say, relieved. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you lean forward, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Pete.”

“For what?” He echoes your question from earlier, grin widening as he ducks down to press his lips to yours again. “I love you,” he mumbles, pecking playfully at your top lip, “so much.” He plants another where your cheek dimples. “You know that?”

“Yeah.” You push up on your toes, backing him into the counter as your hand cups the back of his neck. The hair at his nape tickles your fingertips. “Yeah, I know.”

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theloveinc · 1 year

Text

Barbarian!Bakugo is a little bit… obsessed with lactation.

No, it’s not a new concept to him—he’s seen mothers feeding their children before, in fact, hardly ever put a thought to it.

But now that it’s you, now that it’s his child… it’s interesting to him. Beyond interesting, really. That someone he loves and desires so carnally can provide an almost irreplaceable service, one he is incapable of replicating despite how much he wants to provide for the both of you.

And he’d want to be present for most feedings anyway, both to bond and help ease the parenting load off your shoulders… but the whole time, he can’t take his eyes off your chest, where the little one is latched so safely and happy, suckling away as he stares in a protective haze, in awe. Blinking when baby blinks, wincing when you wince, his hands balling into fists when you sigh and the soft fat of your bosom jiggles.

He’s shy, though. Shy to admit his fascination despite how he asks to touch you one night, after the babe has been fed, swaddled and put to rest, and then rubs his fingers so gently against your nipple it starts to leak.

Bakugo looks at you under thick lashes, no blush because he’s seen you naked endless times, was there for the birth, but hesitant, almost… to do more than feel your raw areola underneath the rough pads of his fingertips. Even if, no sooner, does he put a thumb into his mouth to taste the few, silken drops of milk that escaped onto his skin.

Baby always eats first, of course, until plump and sleepy… but after that first touch, barbarian!Bakugo is no longer above licking up what’s left for him until your tits are relaxed and soft, then massaging you til there’s milk in abundance once more.

#bakugo #bakugou x reader #I wrote something similar to this before but I didn’t actually write the #toddy s*cking #but I also can’t really remember what I said #and also this isn’t very descriptive #so 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️#anyway it just makes me laugh to think of this big honking beast of a man to be staring at u all dumbfounded/concentrated #when ur nursing his kid #I wish there were emojis to describe the face I’m imagining 😐😲😠 combined #but he’s just so… intriqued #even if he knew that’s how it worked it’s like #that’s my wife……… my baby mama……#😳#esp cuz he’s always hunting he’s upset he can’t do more to help feed babba except keep u company #he’s so used to doing more #stick him with loin cloth duty LMDAOOOO KIDDING #anyway ugh have a brand new phone charger that keeps doing the unpluggy thing #might need to get that fixed #also my cat just took a fat sh*t and I can smell it #LOL I’m so tired #hope this was … tolerable!!!#caitie post #tw:lactation #fem reader #kids tw

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gazkamurocho · 4 months

Text

…Why does Goromi look so good wearing Maria’s outfit from Silent Hill 2?

Obligatory Kiryu as James Sunderland lol

…The monsters don’t stand a chance 😂

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lyn-1225 · 1 year

Text

Tough days

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, depression, self harm, anxiety (a little bit), blood, panic attack, sexual reference. I think that’s about it.

Word count: 2000-3000

A/n: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with shameless lately and Carl is my favorite by far. Of course I had to stay up till 2 AM to write this. I’m currently working on a request sent but if you have a request please don’t hesitate to let me know :) enjoy my bad writing.

⚠️ if you are sensitive to topics of mental health please don’t read this. Your safety and mental health is a top priority. ⚠️

This gif of Carl makes me want to scream 😆

——————————————————————

Your POV:

It was known that life wasn’t fair.

It never was and it never would be.

It seemed like I could never catch a break.

Once life actually seemed good, something would come and fuck it up.

This time depression decided to fuck it up.

I’ve always suffered with it, but this time it was different. It was always manageable and short before but now, it was longer and harder to deal with.

The overwhelming fear that I wasn’t good enough and that everyone around me hated me was way stronger than it’s ever been.

Normally reading, writing, painting, or listening to music would help but I was too in my head this time.

I couldn’t get out.

Thought after thought filled my head as I held the small cold razor in my right hand.

It wasn’t the first time unfortunately.

It was some sort of relief. At the time that is.

Small droplets of blood run down my left forearm, the pain allowing for a small relief that I’ve been needing.

That relief is short lived when the thoughts come swarming back to my head.

Oh no not again.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to get rid of the nasty thoughts.

Just one more.

One turned into two which then turned into three.

At that point I gave up. Not on life but on that form of relief.

It was only harming me not helping me.

I stand up from the toilet seat washing off the razor and my arm being careful of the fresh cuts.

The sting makes me wince as the water runs over my skin.

I turn the water off heading back to my room to change and hide the razor.

Spotting a grey long sleeve shirt I swap it out for my current t- shirt. Finding a pair of black, pink sweatpants I put them on taking my shorts off beforehand.

The heat from the shirt and pants envelops me making me feel happy.

I was no longer cold due to the weather that somehow only happens at night around here.

Lately things at home haven’t been the best. My parents are almost never home anymore. They never really cared about me in the first place.

I pick up my phone checking the time that shows up in big font.

11:43 PM.

My mind still runs as I check my recent notifications hoping and praying that Carl texted.

He didn’t.

Carl and I have been best friends for years. We met in school of course.

To be honest I have no idea why he wanted to be friends with me. I’m the complete opposite of him.

He doesn’t seem to care though.

Yes he does he thinks you’re annoying that mean voice in my head sneers.

That’s not true.. right?

Those thoughts plague my mind sending me into a whirlwind of emotions. How pathetic am I to be easily persuaded by a single thought in my head?

The panic in my chest starts to rise signaling the worst thing that could be happening right now.

Fuck.

Immediately I find Carl’s contact, pressing the call button.

Placing the phone to my ear with a shaky hand, I try to take deep breaths.

After the fourth ring he picks up.

“Hello?” He says in a groggy voice.

Shit. I woke him up.

“Hi um” I start before stopping my sentence as I feel a lump form in my throat.

“Hey you okay?” Carl asks on the other side picking up on my hesitation.

“I um. I-is it okay if I um. Come over” I stutter pinching my eyes together trying not to break down.

“Yeah of course, I’ll wait for you outside” he says, shuffling being heard from his side of the phone.

“T-thank you” I say starting to head for my front door.

“I’ll be here” he reassures before hanging up.

I place my phone in my pocket opening the front door. Shutting the door behind me I start for the Gallagher house.

It’s probably a good thing I live a few houses down from him.

The dark cold outside fills around me. The cold somehow creeping through my warm clothes.

Walking fast down the sidewalk, the panic in my chest starts to worsen making my head fog up and my heart rate pick up.

Carls figure appears a few houses away. His body sitting on the steps to his house as he looks out at the road the street light illuminating his face just the right way.

Without even realizing it my pace quickens hoping that I wouldn’t start breaking down in the middle of the neighborhood.

As I get closer and closer the tightness in my lungs starts making it harder for me to breathe.

Shit.

Tears sting my eyes when I reach his calm yet slightly worried appearance.

He immediately gets up noticing me standing in front of him.

Without a word he leads me up the stairs and into his warm and cozy home.

Home.

This felt like home.

The tears in my eyes start to fall as the panic attack starts to take control. Normally I’d be able to stop an upcoming attack before it starts but this one was way to strong.

“Shit y/n” Carl whispers shocked at my sudden emotions. He quickly pulls my body towards the couch as tears run down my cheeks.

It was embarrassing to have him see me like this. Even though we’ve been friends for years, I’ve never been the type to express my feelings openly. I’ve never cried in front of him before.

There’s a first for everything right?

He holds my face in his hands, worry lacing over his beautiful features.

Sobs rack through my body as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

“I can’t b-breathe” I hiccup placing a shaky hand on my rapidly beating heart.

Fear starts to push into my mind.

Not the typical fears.

The tightness in my chest and the lack of air going into my lungs was starting to scare me.

Was I dying?

“Look at me” Carl says trying to get my focus on him. His hand taps my leg enough to get my attention but not enough to scare me.

Everything around me starts to spin making it extremely difficult to focus.

“Y/n look at me” he tries again this time moving my head in his direction griping my chin slightly.

My eyes lock with his, my entire body feeling like it’s gonna give out any second. “Follow my breathing” he says moving my hands to his stomach so that I could feel the rhythm of his breathing.

The rise and fall of his stomach underneath my hands calms me the slightest bit. It’s not enough to stop my internal and external freak out though.

He takes a few deep breaths keeping his hands on mine. His eyes hold contact with mine the entire time. Not in a creepy way of course but more in a concerned way.

Inhale

Exhale

I try to do what he’s doing, failing a few times.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beats a mile per minute, my mind still racing.

Inhale

Exhale

My breathing starts to get better as I follow his lead.

Inhale

Exhale

I open my eyes for what felt like the first time. No more cloudy eyes filled with tears.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beat starts to slow down the more I match my breathing.

Inhale

Exhale

The panic attack comes to a slow close, my body feeling drained of any stamina it originally had.

That was the worst panic attack I’ve ever had.

“Good” Carl comments making it known to me that he’s relieved that I’m no longer freaking out. Squeezing my hands in his slowly taking them away from his stomach he gives me a small yet sad smile.

I could tell he wanted to ask me about it but I know he didn’t want to push. Considering the fact that this was the first time I’ve cried in front of him, he was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t immediately talk about it.

My mind starts to clear giving me that much needed silence in my head. The silence I only seem to get with him.

I bow my head a few stray tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, the embarrassment starting to show through.

Everything I’ve bottled up has presented itself to the one person I didn’t think would be there to see it.

“Hey, hey” he says lifting my head wiping the tears from my face.

“Don’t ever be sorry for something you can’t control” he frowned looking into my slightly glossy eyes.

His green eyes stare deeply into mine with an emotion I didn’t quite know. His face shows so many emotions that tell me exactly how he feels about the situation. He seems more shocked and worried than anything.

I nod my head silently saying okay even though I was gonna continue saying sorry even in times where I did nothing wrong. That’s just me though.

After a few seconds of us sitting in silence, he reaches over to the coffee table grabbing the remote before turning the tv on. He slightly lays down urging me to lay down as well.

Grateful that he decided to leave it, I lean down next to him making sure I don’t get in his way.

“Want to watch something specific?” He asks turning to me pointing the remote towards me.

“Um. I don’t know” I answer looking down at my arms. My left sleeve had risen to the point where the fresh cuts underneath where showing. I pull my sleeve further down my arm quickly enough to make sure Carl didn’t see.

I was to busy worrying about my sleeve that I didn’t notice the fact that Carl was starting at me the entire time. With him staring at me meant him also starting at my exposed arm.

I didn’t pull my sleeve down fast enough.

He saw my arm before I could even blink.

His expression changed when I turned back towards him. This time he was more sad and discouraged.

“Oh y/n/n” he sighed leaning up so that he was closer to me.

He takes my arms in his hands slowly lifting both my sleeves up.

The right arm only had a few scattered scars from a while ago, but the fresh cuts on my left arm show in full display, a few of them still slightly bleeding.

He runs the tips of his middle and pointer finger around the cuts focusing on the sight in front of him. The small action causes goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“Why?” He questions lightly going over the cuts now. He was hesitant when asking one of the questions that I’ve been dreading since my depression started.

I’ve been hiding my emotions and my thoughts for so long that everything that should be let out is bottling up in my mind.

I trusted Carl with everything in me. I’ve always been scared to share my thoughts in fear that no one would care or they’d say that I’m an attention seeker. All of this comes from past trauma that has kicked my ass in the past and still does now.

It was time for me to tell him. He’s come to me in the worst times of his life crying at my shoulder. It was time to allow myself to do the same.

“I needed a release” I start, clearing the silence in the air.

He looks up at me a mixture of surprise and sadness knowing that I was about to open up about everything going on.

“My mind won’t shut up. I have these overwhelming fears that everyone around me hates me. That you find me annoying. That I’m not good enough” I explain looking at him for his reaction.

“There’s a lot more shit that I still need to talk about but I think for right now this is a good start” I say showing a tight lipped smile.

His eyes soften at my explanation.

“I don’t find you annoying at all. You are the only person I like talking to other than my family” he says moving his hands back down to mine.

“Truth is. I’ve had a crush on you since we met. I just never had the guts to admit it” he says rubbing small circles into my hands.

Relief and delight fills my body at his sudden confession. Relief that he wasn’t judging me for my thoughts and delight because the crush I’ve had on him for years was reciprocated.

I smile at him squeezing his hand “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

A smile graces his face now at my confession. He wraps his arms around my upper body pulling me towards his chest.

I feel myself melt at his touch as the sensation of calm runs through my veins.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my head finding it way to his chest. Our heartbeats quickens a bit at the interaction.

He kisses the top of my head making sure that I know he’s sincere about his confession before pulling back from the embrace.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he says standing up from the couch. He reaches his hand out to me wanting me to take it.

“Okay” I smile taking his hand, standing up with a little bit of his help.

My body is still shaky which means my legs feel like jelly underneath me. Exhaustion still evident within me.

He leads me to the kitchen taking his hand out from mine when we reach the counter top and the sink.

I clear a spot on the counter before I hop up on it, waving my legs back and forth like a child.

He grabs a cup filling it with water handing it to me.

“Drink this” he demands handing me the cup while trying to sound stern even though he’s gone soft for me.

“Don’t go acting all mean on me now” I chuckle taking a sip of the cool water.

“I’ll be back” he laughs shaking his head at my statement. He walks up the stairs and out of my sight leaving me to sit with my almost clear mind.

I take a few more sips of my drink as I wait for him to get back.

A few minutes later he walks back down the stairs holding a first aid kit.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find it at first. There’s so much shit in this house that everything I see is lost the next day” he snickers examining the box in his hands.

I laugh as he sets it on the counter to the left of my body. He opens the box searching through the contents to find the things he needed.

He grabs some ointment and some alcohol spray, placing them off to the side. He then grabs bandage wrap placing that to the side as well.

Walking over to the laundry he picks out a dish rag walking it back over to the sink. He runs the water over half the rag making sure that that water is rung out.

“Ready?” He asks moving to my left side.

“Your not doing surgery on me right?” I ask trying my best to sound concerned for my safety.

I laugh a little to try and lighten the mood considering the circumstances i got him involved in.

He laughs as well placing the cold wet rag on my forearm. Focusing on what he’s doing he gently runs the rag along my arm making sure to clean up any blood or dirt that has built up around the cuts.

The more he looks at it the more I can tell it’s starting to affect him. His once smiley face turned serious as time went on.

“Promise me you won’t do this again” he pleads taking his eyes off my arm. He looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“I promise” I say giving him a genuine reassuring look that both me and him need.

It’s hard to make a promise that you don’t know if you’ll keep, but I know that if I do break the promise he would understand. Of course I’m gonna do everything in my power to never do this again.

His eyes light up at my promise making him smile. Seeing him happy about my promise makes me even more determined to not break it.

Using the dry side of the rag he dries up my arm, placing the rag into the sink for someone else in the house to take care of it.

He grabs the spray from off the counter uncapping it and pointing it towards my arm.

“This is gonna sting” he says spraying it onto the fresh cuts. The stinging sensation flows through my arm making me wince slightly.

It wasn’t the worst pain in the world but you could definitely feel it.

He quickly finished up with the spray giving me a sympathetic look as he caps the spray and puts it back onto the counter.

He looks back down at my arm grabbing the ointment unscrewing the lid.

He applies small amounts on my arm before rubbing it over the cuts with a gentle touch I never thought he’d have.

That alone makes my heart flutter.

I stare at him with loving eyes as he cleans his fingers off and grabs the bandage wrap. He starts to wrap my arm with the bandage making sure that it’s tight enough that It won’t fall off but not tight enough for it to cut off my circulation.

“There, all done” he smiles placing everything back into the kit shutting it closed.

I smile before looking down at my bandage wrapped arm. The white wrap goes around almost my entire forearm. The sight makes it look like I belong in a psych ward.

That thought makes me frown knowing what I did to myself.

I didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey” Carl says gaining my attention. I look up in his direction as he moves in between my legs.

“It’s okay” he says placing his hands on my hips. He looks at me with soft eyes.

The tears in my eyes start to fall down my face again. I quickly wipe them away trying to make it seem like I wasn’t just crying in front of him.

Carl takes my face in his hands rubbing my cheeks with each of his thumbs. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t open up to me” he says keeping his eyes trained on mine.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings but it’s obvious whatever’s going on is hurting you. I don’t want you feeling hurt” he whispers the last part tears of his own starting to form.

“Carl please don’t cry” I say lifting my hands to his face so that I could wipe underneath his eyes. He moves his hands from my face down to my hips again lightly squeezing the fat that is there.

“Things at home haven’t been the greatest” I start about to tell my whole life story to him.

He stares at me intently urging me to continue my words as he rubs my hip bones with his thumbs.

“My parents were never around. I practically raised myself my entire life. Anytime they were home they would constantly yell at each other” I say looking at him then looking around the room.

“I’ve been dealing with depression and anxiety ever since I was 9 or 10” I confess. His eyebrows furrow at the age I said. That was a year or so before me and him met.

“It hasn’t been to bad to deal with. I can deal with it on my own, but this time it was worse” I bow my head feeling slightly ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t control it.

“I didn’t think I could go through this one alone so I came here” i finish as I look around the house. The safe proximity helping me feel okay.

I look back to him waiting to hear a response. He looks at me with big eyes and a small sad smile.

Out of nowhere he leans his head forward capturing my lips in a passionate and sweet kiss.

The kiss is soft and filled with the emotions running through his head.

My stomach explodes with butterflies, our lips move in sync with each other.

He keeps his hands on my hips this time squeezing them a little bit more than before.

A little out of breath we pull away our foreheads leaning against each other.

“Im so sorry if I gave you a reason to not trust me with everything you’ve gone through” he whispers to me touching his nose to mine.

“Carl” I start looking into his eyes. “Please don’t let yourself think that I don’t trust you. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in my life” I say.

“From now on I will talk to you anytime something happens. I won’t bottle things up anymore” I promise him taking my forehead away from his.

He smiles at me before wrapping his arms around my shoulders while mine wrap around his waist.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you” he chuckles resting his head on top of mine.

“Trust me. Me too” I smile leaning my head up to kiss the side of his jaw. He looks down at me a huge smile crossing his face.

“This definitely isn’t the right time but is it wrong for me to say that you kissing my jaw is a huge turn on” he says pulling away from our hug.

“Oh really” I smirk purposefully moving my hands to his waist so that I could pull him closer.

“Want me to prove it” he asks maneuvering his hands along my thighs dangerously close to where he wanted to be the most.

I would be lying if I said this wasn’t turning me on as well but instead of giving in I decided to be a tease.

“Nah I’m good thanks though” I say nonchalantly jumping down from the counter grabbing my glass that previously had water in it.

“You son of a bitch” Carl says looking at me as if I spit at him. Putting my glass under the faucet I turn it on filling the glass back up with water.

I point my left middle finger at him while I take a large sip of the water.

He looks at me in disbelief his eyes slightly wide.

I’ve never been like this before but I guess now I’m gonna show every part of me that he never knew.

“So that’s how you want to play huh?” He asks moving closer to me. He has a smug look on his face like he’s about to pounce at any moment.

“Don’t you dare” I say placing my glass down before backing away from him slowly.

He continues moving forward trapping me in the corner of the sink and the refrigerator.

Suddenly running towards me he picks me up making me squeal.

I wrap my legs around his waist while my arms wrap around his neck trying to make sure I don’t fall.

He laughs placing his hands around my back. He spins me around in a circle keeping a strong grip around me.

“I like this position” he comments earning a slap to the side of the head from me. “Stop it” I laugh wrapping my arms around his neck again.

He walks us to the living room lightly throwing me down onto the couch before landing on top of me.

He leans up to place a short kiss to my lips before turning the tv back on to a random channel.

He switches through a few channels before giving up. There wasn’t anything good on since it was practically the middle of the night.

It was some sort of animal channel but we didn’t care.

We only cared about each other.

He cuddled up to my chest pulling my sleeves back down my arms to my hands knowing it was annoying me.

I play with his hair as both of us start to loose touch of reality and start to blink back sleep.

Tonight’s actions run through my head one last time before I fall asleep with him cuddled up to me.

I hope every day includes special moments like what we had tonight.

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A/n: Every imagine I see they say Carl has blue eyes. When I looked it up on google it said that he had green eyes. So that’s what I went with. Hope you liked the imagine :) I had a great time writing it.

#carl gallagher #imagine #carl gallagher x reader #shameless #mental health #sh trigger warning #fluff

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