#*straining* hes gay !!!!!

[doveywovy]

06 not realizing they’re injured

unhealthy coping mechanisms/healed wrong/"it's not my blood"

------

After the last of his little brothers dies, Tobirama learns to always sense Hashirama's chakra. It's a drain on his own resources, if a trickle of one- but he starts when he's nine years old, and a trickle is a dangerous amount.

He does it anyways, and his abilities adjust around it. The relief of always knowing where Hashirama is has a massive impact on his ability to actually sleep at night. When he's twelve, he pushes himself so he can track Toka's chakra as well. Learning to divide his attention- between his brother, his cousin, and whatever task is at hand- is not easy. He gets migraines, makes mistakes. In the end he manages, and from there it's only natural to expand.

He can't manage all the Senju, but he can keep an eye out for the children. For the one civilian who reminds him of his mother, for his brother and his cousin.

And eventually, for Izuna.

That's from a different kind of paranoia. If he knows where Izuna is, it halves the threat he presents. He might not be able to keep an eye on all the Senju, but at least he knows where one of the greatest threats against them always is. He keeps a closer watch on Izuna's chakra than he does anyone but Hashirama's.

(It's easy to follow. It's distinct from the Senju, burning hot and crackling with energy, less like a fire and more like a lightning bolt. If he turns his full attention to it, which he rarely if ever does, it sends a shivering zap through his own system like static shock leaping between fingertips.)

Perhaps it was a mistake. Lumping Izuna in with his loved ones. Or perhaps the mistake was relying on the sensation of the man's chakra in the winter months, a warm fire banked compared to his own frigid nature. Perhaps allowing himself to cling to anyone's chakra at all, even Hashirama's, was the real mistake.

Regardless- he snaps into action when he wakes up to the sensation of someone's chakra sputtering out, using the Hiraishin to travel the distance- three jumps more than he's ever done before, a strain on his body that distracts him as much as the frantic feeling of chakra flaring and struggling as it's tamped back down that drives him on.

He saves Izuna. It's only after he's done it that he realizes his mistake, and by then it's too late.

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

this made me think about your henry and his hat

yes but henry's hat turns him into an evil capitalist

[sophiegoose]

[mdemn]

perusing through @samtrapani’s leo tag and Thinking. not only is vito quite honestly just a little naïve, but he’s easy for leo to control because leo can see right through him. leo can take one look at vito and know his deepest secrets, because he has the same skeletons in his closet.

leo can play 4d chess because one look at vito and anyone who’s played a game before can tell vito has PAWN. I WONT QUESTION YOU. written in bold on his forehead.

leo saw this scared, young, boy fighting through prison at anyone who looked too long at him, and knew he was in there for trusting the wrong people and not asking the right questions, and immediately he was like. i can use him.

& when vito goes out of his way to save leo’s life, just for leo to save his by getting rid of the only person who’s ever had more sway over vito than he did (joe)… well, that’s the business of being owned & useful, kid.

[235uranium]

my personal hc is that ford actually has a god awful relationship with nearly everyone in the pines family and like. he's mostly fine with it. it's more of an annoyance to him. the only one that actively hurts is stan, because stan wasn't supposed to be Just Family. but he's physically incapable of just saying that he's hurt so he simply Doesnt.

but like, other than that? he doesn't feel that he lost much. "family" isn't for people like him (this idea switches between god complex 'I'm so much better than the average person'/'I'm an autistic gay man with a visible ""deformity"" who's only skill is being smart ofc no one would want me in their family')

stan still hasn't really processed this in the 30 years he's been pretending to be ford bc he desperately wants to have a family. he wants family more than anything, it's everything to him! he wants kids and relatives and a busy house and the lack of it is eating him from the inside out.

and he can't add together how little ford seems to have interacted with everyone. how little they seemed to see of him and how little he told them about what his job was. because he could've had that, right? ford could've had their fathers respect! he could've settled down! he could be everything they were Supposed to be, but instead he had a mental breakdown in the woods and stan can't figure it out

[kinfusion]

keep thinking about the few times people have questioned my kins because they felt like another character fit me better.

years ago, one of my childhood friends suggested dave strider was too cool to be me and ive noticed people get like. weirdly defensive whenever i suggested he wasn't cool.

like... um...

people think he is cool in that he has no anxiety, that he is a total womanizer that gets bitches. but he's not that. in reality he's actually just a scared guy with a cool kid persona who mumbles to himself and stutters and gets easily overwhelmed. but, still, i couldn't be dave because im not cool or confident. even tho dave is very much not cool or confident. for example, he has a mini meltdown when you point out that he pronounced a word wrong cause he never heard anyone say it before. because his brother had him pulled from public school, where he then had to teach himself how to do almost everything. and he taught himself wrong and felt like a fool in front of the first person he's seen face to face that wasn't his bro.

he is not cool in the way people imagined. i am not cool in the way people imagined.

[kenmakaashi]

i also really wanna say that neither ben or neung did anything wrong. Ben isn’t wrong for protecting himself and his safety. Neung isn’t wrong for being upset and what ben did isn’t shitty, those are two truths that can most certainly coexist. it’ll make them both feel abysmal, but being hurt and hurting someone isn’t the downfall of someone’s character

[uncertified-boykisser]

LOOK WHAT MY FRIEND MADE ME 4 MY BDAY

TYYY @shypiee

(cw: bright colours under the cut)

ITS MAURICE

[studiousbotanist]

help these porn bots are 22 yrs old you are way too young !!!!!!! HELP if only SOMEONE made a POST signal boosting something for ME, a gay man who’s close to thirty !!!!!!!!!

[ghostingink]

Time for the yearly redraw

To see previous years look under cut

2022 and 2021

[guangchuans]

because all my favourite characters must have the same traits as me lan wangji in my mind is gay trans depressed and experiences chronic pain. if you even care btw

[chocobox]

seeing girls thirsting for england is so confusing bc it's like. i can't stop you, truly, but... you have to at least be aware of how funny this is right. like... HIM? MR FAGGOT????

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

cod masterlist

[mattsmunch]

── 𖦹 ! pretty when you cry - c.s

MEAN!chris sturniolo x CRYBABY!femreader

✎: "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me"

ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 7k

⚠︎: SMUT!, established relationship, mean!chris x crybaby!reader, alcohol usage, unprotected p in v (no bueno), fingering, oral (f!receiving), PETNAMES ( baby, ma, sweet girl, & big girl is used like twice but not necessarily as a pet name pls spare me😓) +++ so much more.

⟢ REQUESTED?: yes! in this ask.

⟢ AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. NOT proof read, sorry for any typos :,)

ᝰ.ᐟ

chris was pissed.

not only had you ditched lunch plans with him to go shopping with nick and madison, but it was now 7:21pm and he was sat in the passenger seat of matts car reading off directions to your current location.

while you started off the day with plans for a simple shopping spree, Nick and Madison quickly turned the trip into a "two girls and a gay" extravaganza. despite your initial reluctance, the combined power of Madison's fluttering eyelashes and Nick's charm convinced you to join in on their mimosafest. by the fourth glass, you were already feeling a bit fuzzy, but then Nick reminded you of his and Madison’s upcoming month-long tour. that was the final nail in the coffin—you knew you wouldn’t survive that long without your bestie trio.

the decision to join in on the club night with Nick and Madison had led you here, four hours and countless drinks later. you had lost track of everything—how many drinks each of you had, or even what they were. all you knew was that the alcohol coursing through your veins was making you want to dance. with a bit of persuasive coaxing, you managed to drag both Nick and Madison out onto the dance floor. you three let your bodies move to the beat of the music, laughing and squealing as random girls joined in on your carefree dance party.

caught up in the laughter and music, you had completely forgotten about notifying Chris of your plans to go clubbing. in fact, you weren’t even sure if you still had your phone, or if it was tucked away somewhere in the uber you used to get here.

feeling regret bubbling up in your gut, knowing that not letting Chris know about your plans to party was a mistake that’d bite you in the ass later but the alcohol coursing through your veins quickly did an excellent job at putting your worries at bay.

as you danced with complete abandon, Chris was positively seething. Matt couldn’t help but glance at his brother every so often, concern etched on his face. Chris was gritting his teeth, his hand gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Matt tried to keep a light atmosphere in the car, his voice strained as he attempted to crack a few jokes. however, knowing that his brother’s mood and behavior were all directed towards you, made the air in the car thick with tension.

Matt and Chris hopped out of the car and hurried to the front of the line, explaining to the bouncer that they didn't intend to stay in the club but just wanted to pick up Chris's girlfriend, his brother, and their friend. once granted entry, Chris instantly started searching the club for you, weaving through flashing lights, loud music, and drunken people bumping into him, each interaction adding to his growing irritation. he clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth began to ache.

Chris’s eyes were laser-focused as he walked around, scanning the sea of dancers in the hopes of spotting you. the mixture of frustration, worry, and anxiety only fueled his determination to find you as quickly as possible.

Chris and Matt forcefully pushed throught the crowd, making their way to where you and Madison were dancing. when Madison saw Chris approach, she stopped mid-sentence, quickly giving you a nudge to turn around. upon seeing Chris, your initial look of confusion morphed into a wide grin.

"CHRIS!!!!" you squealed with excitement, intoxicated and oblivious to his angry demeanor. you threw yourself into his arms, your body pressed against his.

Chris’s jaw ticked as he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist in an almost possessive manner. he felt relieved to have found you, but his anger was still present. he leaned down to speak into your ear so you could hear him over the music.

"come on." Chris muttered, his voice low and firm. he gently but firmly guided you and Madison toward the exit, his grip on your waist keeping you close to his side.

as Chris navigated you and Madison through the club, Matt trailed behind them, struggling to keep a stumbling Nick in tow. Matt firmly grabbed onto Nick's arm, tugging him along with them as they all exited the club.

the cold night air hit you, a sharp contrast to the warm and crowded environment of the club. Chris's grip on your waist didn't loosen as he led you to the waiting car where Matt had managed to steer Nick into the backseat.

Chris opened the back door of the car, his gaze locked onto yours as he helped you into the seat. you stumbled slightly in your intoxicated state, but he steered you into the middle, making room for Madison and Nick to sit on either side.

meanwhile, Matt was wrestling with a giggling Nick in the backseat, struggling to keep him still as he attempted to buckle his seatbelt.

once you were both settled in the middle, Chris shut the door behind you before making his way to the passenger seat in the front. Matt finally managed to secure a giggling Nick in place, and quickly rounded the car to get into the driver's seat himself.

the atmosphere in the car was tense, the silence punctuated only by the occasional burst of laughter from Nick. Chris sat in the passenger seat, his jaw still clenched and his eyes fixed on you through the rearview mirror. Matt started the car, ready to pull out and head home.

with your mind slightly clouded by alcohol, you feel a wave of clingy neediness wash over you. You’re not fully aware of Chris’s anger towards you, and all you want is to be close to him and receive attention. you lean forward, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his arm, snuggling up to him and nuzzling your face against his shoulder, ignoring the way your seatbelt was digging into your torso.

“pssst, Chris,” you whisper loudly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

you attempts to get his attention go ignored as Chris stubbornly remains silent. he continues staring straight ahead, ignoring your drunken behavior. you pout in disappointment as Chris continues to give you the cold shoulder, the silence in the car feeling like a dagger. you release your grip on his arm, but your hand continues to rest on his shoulder, drawing small circles.

Chris impatiently shrugs your hand off his shoulder, growing increasingly irritated by your behavior. this causes you to pout further, and you huff in response, leaning back in your seat and sulking.

as a result, you begin babbling to both Nick and Madison, all of you slurring your words due to the copious amounts of alcohol you've consumed.

the three of you talk over each other, laughing loudly and speaking in a mixture of exaggerated tones and drunken mumbles. Chris clenches his jaw tighter in frustration, the noise and your intoxication only worsening his already shitty mood.

Chris's irritation increases with every second that passes, the sound of your drunken laughter grating on the nerves. he glances at you through the rearview mirror every so often, watching as you chatter away to Nick and Madison, seemingly oblivious to his anger.

Matt is focused on the road ahead, occasionally sneaking glances at the three of you through the rearview mirror as he drives the car home. he can sense the tension emanating from Chris and feels the weight of the situation. however, he keeps his focus on getting all five of you back safely without any distractions.

the incessant chattering from the backseat finally pushes Chris over the edge, causing him to snap. he turns around in his seat, his eyes fixed on the three of you in the back.

"bruh can yall shut the fuck up," he snarls, his voice sharp and filled with annoyance. "you’re fuckin annoying me."

silence quickly fills the car as you all snap your mouths shut.

Madison remains calm, slightly surprised by Chris's outburst but choosing not to provoke him further. Nick's sassiness gets the better of him, and he throws a quick retort at Chris, which only serves to irritate him even more.

on the other hand, your sensitivity and intoxication has tears pricking at your eyes in response to Chris's harsh words. you pout and sniffle, hurt by his tone.

as tears stream down your drunken red cheeks, Chris's expression remains stoic, showing no sympathy for you. seeing your emotional reaction only adds fuel to his anger, as he views it as an attempt to manipulate his emotions. his jaw clenches once more, his eyes narrow, and he swiftly turns back around in his seat, staring straight ahead as if refusing to look at you any longer.

still completely ignorant to the anger aimed towards you, radiating off of him, you reach forward and tap Chris’s shoulder, wanting his attention. Chris immediately stiffens at your touch, his jaw muscle twitching with irritation. however, your obliviousness only fuels his frustration. he snaps his head around, his eyes flashing with anger as he glares at you, his voice harsh as he snarls out. "What?"

although you flinch slightly at the sharpness in his tone, you maintain your oblivious demeanor and try to muster up a pouty expression. despite the alcohol clouding your judgment, a small voice inside of you cautions you against pushing his buttons too far, but the liquid courage bubbling in your veins compels you to proceed regardless.

you reach forward and rest your hand on his upper arm, gently tracing your fingers along his bicep as you give him your best puppy dog eyes.

"c’mon, Chris," you murmur, your voice whiny and pleading. "why are you being so mean to me?"

your touch and plea for attention only succeed in infuriating him further. his muscles tense under your fingers, his eyes narrowing as he glares at your drunken, pouting face.

"mean to you? you’re the one who went out and got drunk without letting anyone know," he retorts, his voice laced with irritation. "you could have at least had the decency to send me a goddamn text."

sensing the rising tension between you and Chris, Matt quickly turns up the volume of the music, trying to drown out the conversation happening. the upbeat tune blasts through the speakers, drawing the attention of both Nick and Madison, who begin to bob their heads to the beat.

with the music cranked up, your conversation with Chris becomes less audible to the others, but they can still sense the thick atmosphere in the car. Nick and Madison exchange occasional glances, silently listening in while pretending to focus on the music.

you pout your lips in slight indignation, your alcohol-induced brain still not fully comprehending the situation. you look up at him with watery eyes and say, "well, i just wanted to have a good time with Madi and Nick. you’re so boring, never wanting to go out with us."

for a moment, Chris’s irritation morphs into disbelief, his eyebrows rising slightly at your audacity. He snorts sarcastically before retorting, "boring? you call me boring but then pull a stunt like this. real mature."

your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, struggling to form a coherent response to his comment. you’re too inebriated to realize that your actions tonight are anything but mature. the alcohol has rendered you emotionally vulnerable and childish, and your words start to sound more like a desperate plea rather than a valid argument.

"i just wanted to have fun," you repeat, your voice bordering on a whine. "why are you always so serious? i can take care of myself, y'know."

after your reply, Chris looks at you for a moment, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. He shakes his head, unable to believe the level of immaturity you're displaying.

as the rest of the car ride passes in relative silence, you, Nick, and Madison slowly start to drift off to sleep in the back seat, the alcohol and exhaustion from the night finally taking their toll.

Matt pulls the car into the driveway, the engine purring to a stop. Nick, roused by the car coming to a halt, wakes up with a disoriented groan. he clambers out of the backseat, his movements clumsy and disoriented as the alcohol still affects his motor skills.

Matt quickly gets out of the car and aids Madison in getting out, guiding her toward the house. meanwhile, Chris grudgingly exits the vehicle and assists you, his touch firm but not exactly gentle.

Chris wraps his hand around your upper arm, guiding and steadying you as you stumble out of the car. you’re still half-asleep but conscious enough to recognize his touch. however, even in your exhausted state, you instinctively lean into him, seeking his warmth and comfort, despite the tension between both of you.

Matt guides Madison and Nick to Nick's room as they mutter a slurred "goodnight" before disappearing behind the door. Chris turns his attention to you, his lips pressed into a thin line. he silently leads you into the bedroom, his demeanor remaining stoic and distant.

once inside, he silently helps you undress, carefully removing your clothes in a detached but efficient manner.

as Chris helps you undress, the alcohol in your system loosens your tongue, and you start to babble in a sleepy, slurred voice.

"missed you s’much today." you sigh, pouting slightly, your eyes half-lidded.

however, Chris remains largely unresponsive, his jaw clenched as he focuses on getting you into something comfortable to sleep in. ignored, your pout deepens, and you let out a small whine.

you continue to pout, frustration mounting within you at Chris's lack of response. you look up at him, your bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. With an air of drunken petulance, you whine again.

"why won't you talk to me? i said i missed you."

once more, Chris continues to act as if he can't hear your whiney plea. he grabs a soft t-shirt from the dresser and gestures for you to lift your arms up so he can slip it over your head.

his expression remains stoic, giving no hint of whether he's actively ignoring you or simply too focused on getting you comfortable for bed.

after helping you into bed and adjusting the covers, Chris stands next to the bed and nods toward you, signaling that he's done. He then mutters, "gonna take a shower."

with that, he turns and walks to the bathroom, disappearing inside and shutting the door behind him.

the alcohol gradually takes effect, and your inhibitions start to slip. as you lie in bed, your mind begins to wander. the physical absence of Chris, combined with your intoxicated state, starts to awaken a more primal part of you.

a feeling of desire and neediness starts to bubble within you. you find yourself craving his touch, his voice, his presence. your thoughts start to turn down a more sultry and suggestive path.

your mind starts to paint vivid images as you think of Chris in the shower. you imagine the water cascading down his muscled body, the steam clinging to his skin, and the towel hanging around his hips.

the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, your pulse quickening at the mental image playing out in your mind. your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild.

the vivid imagery and growing arousal only intensify as your drunken mind continues to wander. your hand slowly trails down your body, fingertips grazing over the swell of your breasts before dipping lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties.

you squirm against the sheets, aching for more contact. a soft moan escapes your lips as you picture Chris stepping out of the shower, droplets of water glistening on his torso. in your mind's eye, he catches you staring and smirks knowingly, letting the towel drop to the floor.

lost in the fantasy, your fingers slip beneath the fabric, seeking relief from the building heat between your thighs. you arch into your own touch, breath coming faster now as you lose yourself to the sensations and forbidden imaginings of your boyfriend.

with trembling fingers, you slide your panties down, exposing your slick folds to the cool air of the room. your breathing grows ragged as you delve two digits inside yourself, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. soft, drunken moans spill from your parted lips, echoing in the quiet of the night.

as you pleasure yourself, the distant sound of the shower stills, replaced by the creak of the bathroom door opening. water droplets from Chris' damp skin sparkle in the dim light as he pads silently towards the bed, his eyes locked onto the intimate scene unfolding before him.

your pulse races at being caught in such a compromising position, but instead of pulling away, you continue to touch yourself shamelessly, lost in the throes of desire.

Chris stands at the foot of the bed, the towel draped low around his hips, barely covering the prominent bulge straining against the fabric. His piercing gaze is fixed intently on the erotic display before him - your slender fingers dancing across your sensitive flesh, coaxing pleasure from your quivering core.

"please, Chris," you whimper, your voice thick with lust, "touch me... i need you..." but he remains motionless, simply observing your desperate pleas with an unreadable expression.

undeterred, you bring your other hand up to join the first, frantically rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles. your back arches off the mattress, a keening moan ripping from your throat as the tension builds. Chris' eyes never leave your face, drinking in every gasp, every shudder, every plea for release.

Chris sinks down beside you on the bed, his movements deliberate and controlled. he reaches out, his palm cool against your inner thigh, gently but firmly parting your legs wider apart. you tremble under his touch, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through you.

without a word, he settles himself between your splayed legs, his face mere inches from your dripping cunt. the intoxicating scent of your arousal fills his nostrils as he leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your most intimate area. your fingers slow their frantic pace, almost ceasing movement altogether as you await his next action, heart pounding in your chest.

as Chris's face hovers tantalizingly close, you instinctively shift your hands, trying to draw him in, to capture his mouth against your aching clit. but he forestalls your advance, his strong grip closing around your hips, halting your movement.

"no, keep going," he commands harshly, his voice low and authoritative. his words send a thrill through you.

obediently, you resume stroking your clit, your fingers moving in time with the rapid beat of your heart. Chris watches intently, his dark eyes burning with an unspoken hunger as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself under his stern instruction. the contrast between his commanding demeanor and the vulnerability of your act only heightens the intensity of the moment.

despite your best efforts, the pressure builds to a crescendo, your climax hovering just out of reach. Frustrated and needy, you plead with Chris, "please, i need you..."

but he merely scoffs, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he mocks your words from earlier "you can take care of yourself ma."

your frustration mounts as you struggle to reach completion, your small hands inadequate to satisfy the intense ache pulsing through you. tears of desperation prick at the corners of your eyes as you writhe beneath Chris' watchful gaze.

"please…" you whimper, your voice raw with need. "i can't... i need you to make me come."

Chris' smirk only widens at your pitiful pleas, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you. "what's wrong, baby? can't handle taking care of yourself like a big girl?" he taunts, his tone dripping with condescension.

tears stream down your face as you shake your head frantically, too far gone to care about preserving any semblance of pride. the effects of the alcohol in your system slowly dissipating as your body grows hungrier for his touch. "no, please... m’sorry— need you so badly."

Chris' eyes narrow as he takes in your tear-streaked face, your desperate pleas hanging heavy in the air between you. for a long moment, he simply stares, his expression inscrutable. then, without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your dripping cunt in a brutal kiss.

a strangled cry tears from your throat at the sudden contact, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. his tongue delves deep, lapping at your essence greedily as he feasts upon you. the stubble of his chin scrapes deliciously against your sensitive flesh, adding a new dimension to the overwhelming sensations consuming you.

your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you hold him in place, afraid he might pull away.

Chris devours you with a ferocity that borders on punishing, his tongue lashing against your sensitive nub with ruthless precision. each flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you grind yourself shamelessly against his face. broken moans and incoherent pleas tumble from your lips, lost in the haze of ecstasy that threatens to consume you whole.

just as you teeter on the brink of oblivion, Chris pulls away abruptly, leaving you bereft and wanting. you whine in protest, your hips jerking upwards in a futile attempt to recapture his touch. he chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your swollen clit.

"not yet, ma,"

Chris continues his relentless assault, his tongue delving deeper into your heated core. every lick, every swirl brings you closer to the precipice, each wave of pleasure building upon the last until you're left gasping and writhing beneath him.

his fingers find your swollen clit, pinning it against his thumb as he begins to circle the sensitive nub mercilessly. a choked sob escapes your lips as the dual assault of his mouth and hand pushes you further than you've ever been before.

your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripple through your core. your cries echo throughout the room as you ride out the aftershocks, completely spent and utterly satisfied.

before you can even catch your breath, Chris is on you again, his mouth descending upon your sensitive flesh once more. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your oversensitive skin crying out in protest even as your body betrays you, craving more.

he laps at your essence hungrily, his tongue delving deep into your fluttering walls as if seeking to claim every last drop. your hands fist in the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you clench the fabric, anchoring yourself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.

Chris' fingers join the fray, two digits plunging into your slick heat as he curls them just right, hitting that sweet spot within you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts with abandon as you chase another peak, another shattering release.

lost in a haze of pleasure, you find yourself unable to form coherent words. all that escapes your lips are broken moans and garbled pleas, your mind too focused on the exquisite sensations radiating from your core to string together a proper sentence.

as Chris works you towards another earth-shattering orgasm, your body arches off the bed, your back bowing as you surrender yourself fully to the overwhelming ecstasy. your thighs quiver, your muscles tensing as the coil within you winds tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

with a final, brutal thrust of his fingers and a hard suckle of your clit, Chris sends you hurtling over the edge once more. your vision whites out, your world narrowing down to the singular point where his mouth meets your cunt as you come undone beneath him, screaming his name like a prayer.

as the last tremors of your orgasm fade, Chris suddenly sits up. before you can voice your disappointment, his palm connects sharply with your sensitive mound, sending a jolt of painful pleasure racing up your spine.

the unexpected sting has you gasping, your eyes flying open wide as you stare up at Chris in shock. He grins wickedly down at you, clearly relishing the effect his actions have had on you. by this point your absolutely positive any trace of alcohol in your system has been completely fucked out.

without warning, he shifts your limp, satiated body effortlessly, maneuvering you onto his lap as he leans back against the headboard. His throbbing cock presses insistently against your thigh through the towel, a reminder of his own pent-up desire.

Chris settles you comfortably in his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist as he holds you close. you can feel the heat of his skin seeping into yours, his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath your cheek. for a moment, you allow yourself to relax into his embrace, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

then, slowly, teasingly, Chris begins to rock his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against your sensitive folds. the friction sends sparks of pleasure dancing along your nerve endings, reigniting the fire within you despite your exhaustion.

his hands roam your body possessively, mapping every curve and hollow as if committing you to memory. he lifts your shirt up slightly and dips his head, capturing one pert nipple between his teeth and tugging gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"look at you," he mocks, his tone dripping with desire and sarcasm.

Chris chuckles low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your chest as he continues to toy with your nipples, alternating between gentle tugs and soft bites.

“acting like such a big girl, blowing me off all day without so much as a text. and now, here you are, practically begging for my attention."

his words should offend you, but instead, they only serve to stoke the flames of your neediness. you squirm in his lap, your hips rolling instinctively against his clothed arousal as you seek relief from the ache building within you.

"you're such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Chris taunts.

your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at Chris' mocking words. despite the teasing, you can't deny the truth in his statement - you did blow him off today, and now you're practically climbing his body in an attempt to satisfy the gnawing hunger within you.

"i...i forgot..." you start to defend yourself, but the words trail off as Chris' fingers find your sensitive clit, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness. a whimper escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily into his touch.

"you..you forgot what, ma?" Chris prompts, his voice a low purr as he mocks your stuttering.

"i-i was just hanging out with Nick and Madison," you stammer, trying to focus on the conversation despite the intense stimulation Chris is providing. "we got caught up talking and lost track of time. i didn't mean to ignore you!"

Chris listens patiently, his expression unreadable as he allows you to explain yourself. but then, with a sudden movement, he tugs the towel loose from under him, letting it fall away to reveal his fully erect cock standing proudly at attention.

the sight takes your breath away, and for a moment, you forget all about your excuses, your gaze fixated on the thick length of him. Chris smirks knowingly, his free hand stroking himself lazily as he waits for you to continue.

you lean in, your intention clear as you reach for Chris' impressive erection. but before your fingers can make contact, his hand shoots out, slapping yours away with a firm "nuh uh."

he punctuates the denial with a mocking kiss of his teeth, a frown falls onto your face.

Chris' grip tightens around your wrist, holding your hand captive in his lap as he looks at you with a mixture of amusement and sternness.

Chris releases your wrist only to grasp your chin firmly, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "listen up, because i’m only going to say this once," he says, his voice low and authoritative. "tonight, you put me in a world of shit, worrying about where you were and if you were okay. whole damn time you were just out there living it up, completely unaware of the stress you caused me."

he pauses, studying your reaction before continuing. "let me make one thing crystal clear: i’m in charge here, ma. when you neglect to check in or consider someone else's feelings, you end up in trouble. and right now? you're in a whole lot of it."

Chris' thumb brushes across your lower lip, his touch both soothing and threatening. "so here's what's going to happen."

Chris leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers his demands. "first, you're going to apologize properly for putting me through hell tonight. then, you're going to show me just how sorry you really are."

with those words, Chris claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. his hands roam your body possessively, squeezing and kneading every inch of exposed skin until you're writhing in his lap, desperate for more.

Chris breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he looks down at you with a mix of lust and control. "apologize," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you swallow hard, your mind racing to process the intensity of the situation. but with Chris' piercing gaze boring into you, you know there's no room for hesitation. "i’m sorry," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “m’really, really sorry for worrying you and not checking in. it thoughtless and selfish of me..."

as you continue apologizing, Chris starts to stroke himself again, his movements slow and deliberate. each word from your lips seems to spur him on, his cock twitching in anticipation.

your apologies tumble from your lips, tears begin to stream down your face, guilt overwhelming you. Chris watches impassively, his eyes cold as he listens to your words. suddenly, he cuts you off mid-sentence, feigning sympathy as he pulls you into a brief, patronizing hug.

"oh, poor baby," he coos mockingly. "you feel so bad, don't you sweet girl? gonna make it up me, hm?"

before you can respond, Chris grabs your hips roughly and positions you over his throbbing cock. With no warning whatsoever, he slams you down onto him, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the sudden intrusion steals the air from your lungs, pain and pleasure mingling in a dizzying rush.

your fingers dig into Chris' shoulders as he buries himself inside you, the sensation overwhelming. "wait!" you gasp, trying to halt his movements. "t—..too much…"

“ ‘too much’ too fucking bad, i don’t care. take it.” he mocks you as his hands grip your hips tightly as he grinds you down onto him. the pain is almost unbearable, but mixed with the pleasure, it feels incredibly good. you try to push back against him, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you trapped beneath his powerful frame.

Chris holds you steady, his pace relentless as he pounds into you with increasing force. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled cries and his guttural groans.

despite your initial protests, your body begins to adapt, craving the intense friction and fullness Chris provides. you arch your back, meeting each thrust with a desperate grind of your own, the pleasure building rapidly within you.

"fuck, look at you," Chris growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you take him. "love seeing you get used to my cock, y/n.”

your body betrays you, responding to Chris' dominant thrusts with a growing need for more. the pain has transformed into a sharp, delicious ache, fueling the rising heat between your thighs.

"please..." you whimper, as your hips move instinctively to meet his, seeking that perfect angle for maximum pleasure. tears still streak your face, but they're tinged with a strange, exhilarating mix of shame and arousal.

"that’s it, baby," he encourages, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me”

chris continues to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm unrelenting. each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the pressure building relentlessly within you.

your walls clench around him involuntarily, your body betraying your resistance. despite your earlier pleas, you find yourself pushing back against him eagerly now, desperate for release.

"fuck yeah," Chris groans in approval, feeling your tight walls quiver and spasm around his cock. "fucking love seeing you squirm on my dick.”

Chris' grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain as he increases his tempo, each thrust driving deeper and harder than before. his breath comes in harsh pants, his face twisted in a mask of raw, animalistic lust.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" he snarls, his voice dripping with cruel mockery. "wanted me to fuck you senseless, make you cum all over my cock?"

his words cut through the haze of pleasure, striking a nerve even as your body continues to respond eagerly to his brutal assault. a part of you recoils at the degrading language, but another part, darker and more primal, craves the domination, the complete loss of control.

Chris leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "this is what happens when you forget your place, ma. when you think you can run wild and free, without considering the consequences."

he punctuates his words with a particularly vicious thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours. the movement sends shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core, drawing a choked moan from your throat.

"that's right, let me hear you," Chris taunts, his voice a sinful purr. "moan for me, baby. let everyone know who owns this pussy."

Chris doesn't bother to quiet his increasingly loud grunts and groans, fully aware that anyone nearby could likely hear the lewd sounds of his dominance.

"fuck, you're so goddamn tight," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with ruthless precision. "gonna ruin this cunt for anyone else, make sure you never forget who you belong to."

the sheer audacity of his declaration, coupled with the brutal intensity of his thrusts, leaves you breathless and utterly at his mercy. even with the humiliation of being so thoroughly claimed, you can't deny the intoxicating thrill that courses through you, the knowledge that you've been marked, owned, in the most primal way possible.

your voice barely audible over the obscene slap of flesh against flesh. "please, Chris...i can't...it's too much..."

but even as the words leave your lips, your body continues to respond to his relentless pounding, your inner walls fluttering and clenching around his invading length. the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure swirl together, threatening to consume you entirely.

Chris seems to relish your struggles, his pace never faltering as he drives home his point, his dominance over you absolute. "too much?" he scoffs, his breath hot against your neck. "you wanted this, ma. now you're gonna take it."

without warning, Chris yanks you off his cock and spins you around, forcing you to drop to your hands and knees on the bed. he yanks your hips back, your ass raised high and inviting.

"fucking perfect," he murmurs, running a hand over the curve of your rear possessively. then, with a swift, brutal thrust, he sheathes himself back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Chris sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your ass as he takes you from behind. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the head of his cock battering relentlessly at your cervix with each powerful stroke.

"look at that ass bounce," he pants, his grip on your hips tightening. "so beautiful, taking my cock like a good little slut."

Chris brings his palm down hard on the rounded globe of your ass, the crack of the impact ringing out in the room. a bright red handprint blooms instantly on your tender flesh, marking you as his property.

the sudden sting sends a jolt straight to your core, triggering an intense orgasm that crashes through you without warning. your vision whites out, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of ecstasy consumes you.

but Chris shows no mercy, continuing to pound into you even as you convulse around him, milking his cock with rhythmic spasms. the added stimulation only seems to spur him on, his strokes becoming faster, harder, more frenzied.

"that’s it, cum on my cock like a good little whore," he growls, one hand fisting in your hair as he yanks your head back. "fucking take it."

as the aftershocks of your third orgasm subside, you collapse further into the bed, your mind reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Chris continues to rut into you with abandon, his movements erratic and driven by his own impending release.

"ahh, f-fuck...so g-good," you stutter, your words tumbling out in a breathless, incoherent stream. "c-can't...can't believe how much...oh god, Chris!"

your body, still sensitive from the brutal fucking, responds to every twitch and throb of his cock inside you. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your nerves stretched taut and singing with pleasure.

Chris grunts, his pace faltering as he nears his peak. "gonna...fuck, gonna fill this pussy up," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips.

with a final, guttural groan, Chris pulls out of you abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. he flips you over onto your back, looming above you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"not done with you yet, ma," he says, his voice low and menacing.

before you can react, he's crawling up your body, his mouth finding yours in a searing kiss. his tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam over your breasts and stomach.

when he finally breaks the kiss, you're left panting and dazed, your body thrumming with need. Chris smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you.

Chris grips your thighs, spreading them wide as he positions himself between them. his eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and possession.

"wanna see your pretty face," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

with that, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing around him.

Chris starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. each stroke is deep and purposeful, designed to stretch and claim you completely.

as he picks up speed, his gaze remains fixed on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure and submission. the intensity of his stare only heightens your arousal, making you feel exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

Chris' thrusts become more urgent, his breathing growing ragged as he chases his release. his hands slide under your thighs, lifting and spreading your legs wider, opening you up completely to his possession.

"you’re mine, y/n," he pants, his voice strained with exertion. "this pussy belongs to me, understand? no one else gets to touch you like this."

his words, combined with the relentless pounding of his cock, push you closer to the edge once more. your body trembles beneath him, teetering on the brink of another shattering climax.

"beg for it," Chris demands, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. "beg me to fill you up, i know you want it."

"p-please, Chris!" you whimper, your voice breaking on a sob. "n-need…need your cum…”

your desperate plea seems to unleash something primal within him. Chris lets out a feral growl, his thrusts becoming savage and unrelenting as he drives towards his climax.

"yes, fuck yes," he snarls, his eyes blazing with raw hunger. "take it all, ma. i know you can do it"

with a final, brutal plunge, Chris buries himself to the hilt inside you. his cock throbs and pulses as he erupts, flooding your depths with his scorching hot release. wave after wave of his essence pumps into you, marking you irrevocably as his.

as Chris' orgasm subsides, he collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. you can feel his heart thundering against your chest, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

after a long moment, he lifts his head, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and possession. "i love you," his voice is soft with a low rumble.

he rolls off you, pulling you into his arms as he settles back against the pillows. despite the exhaustion that threatens to claim you, you find yourself curling into his side, seeking the warmth and security of his embrace.

Chris runs his fingers through your hair, gently brushing the sweat-dampened strands away from your face. there’s a hint of tenderness in his touch, a stark contrast to the rough passion of moments before.

"we’re going to talk about this in the morning kid," he says softly, his tone firm but not unkind. "about you blowing me off, gotta to set some things straight, ma."

despite the gravity of his words, there's no real anger in his voice. instead, there's a sense of determination, a quiet insistence that he won't let this happen again.

for now, though, he simply holds you close, allowing you both to bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but for tonight, you're content to lose yourself in the comfort of his embrace.

you nod sleepily, already feeling the heaviness of exhaustion pulling you under. Chris tucks you in tighter, his arm a solid barrier across your waist.

" get some rest," he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "sweet dreams my sweet girl"

as his warm breath washes over your skin, you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids drifting shut. the steady beat of Chris' heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.

AUTHORS NOTE: whoever this cutesy lil anon is, i apologize i literally thought i posted this last night LOLL. i hope this fits ur stands, if not lmk and i’ll write another immediately :,))

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[infizero]

genuinely basil's whole fucking thing with the portrait drives me insane like its actually so. ohmy god. he paints a portrait of the man he's in love with and it's the best thing he's ever done, but he becomes paranoid that people will be able to figure out his secret just from looking at it. so he resolves to never let the world see it. "there was love in every line, and in every touch there was passion" can we all die or something

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

(thinking about this post a bit)

“You weren’t asking me to move in with you,” Tommy said with a terrible, sad smile. “You were asking your boyfriend.”

Buck squinted, confused. “You… are my boyfriend?” That strained smile somehow became more terrible, and Buck realized he’d slipped up.  “Were. Were my boyfriend.”

Tommy sighed. “Quick pop quiz for you, then. Name three of your former boyfriend’s hobbies.”

Bucks brow furrowed deeper, but for the moment he decided to play along. “Uh, movies? Basketball. MMA, Muay Thai, stuff like that.”

Tommy nodded. “Full points. Now, basketball is not something I play at home, so that’s not relevant, and I can see exactly where my DVD collection would fit, no problem.  Muay Thai, though… where does my equipment go, here?  My mat and bag? And, hey, here’s a hobby you didn’t mention: tinkering with classic cars.  Where does my car lift go, Buck?  Because it sure can’t go in that parking space out front.”

Buck felt his face starting to go red, and dropped his eyes.  “You’ve made your point,” he mumbled.

“Have I?  And what is that, then?”

“That I wasn’t thinking about you, when I asked you to move in.”

“No, you weren’t,” Tommy agreed.  “The same way you weren’t thinking about me when you talked about this cool, confident, comfortable gay guy you admire.  I didn’t come out until after gay marriage was legalized, Buck.  There’s nothing impressive about how many people I hurt—myself included—by being unable to live with my truth.  And I don’t—I don’t have gay friends, you know?  I’m not in the community that way. I’m not an activist; I don’t even go to Pride.  That guy you were talking about—he does sound admirable.  He sounds great.” Tommy’s voice cracked.  “But he doesn’t sound like me.”

Unable to bear the silence, Buck fidgeted with his shirtsleeve and asked, “So… that’s why you broke up with me?  Because I didn’t know you well enough?”

Tommy looked away. “I broke up with you because that conversation made it very clear to me that you were falling for some better version of Tommy Kinard that you’d made up in your head.  And maybe I contributed to that. We never really discussed heavy topics much, not even our dating histories.” Buck chuckled a little at the reference, and for a split second Tommy smiled for real. It hurt to see, and hurt more to see it so briefly. “But I knew. Even if I pointed out that my things wouldn’t fit in your loft, and we had a little laugh about it and decided to look for a new place to move into together… living together would force you to see who I really am.  And you weren’t going to love that guy.”

Buck blinked back tears. “Y-you don’t know that.  I don’t know that.”

“I do, though.”  Tommy smiled thinly, his eyes wet.  “No one’s ever loved that guy.”

(eta: cont'd)