#am i the one who's completely lost my fucking mind???

[heylittleriotact]

🕯️ THE RITUAL HAS BEEN COMPLETED AND I AM SUMMONED BY @emmg 🕯️

WIP ✨WHATEVER✨

I have a lot of Emmrook things in mind that I want to write (I made a list!), but I only have one brain and one dominant hand for writing, so I’m just dawdling away at my leisure.

Currently I’m working on my take on a scene that would take place directly following the end of the game because BioWare hates us and decided we don’t need any closure for our Rooks or their love interest aside from some vague ‘live, laugh, love’ bullshit epilogue slide.

Rook works their fucking ass off the entire game and is basically the emotional sponge for everyone else’s issues, pushing themselves beyond what’s healthy to see their goals through. Emmrich remarks on it on at least two separate occasions, so I think my Rook would probably find herself in a position within hours of everything concluding where her body and her mind just stand on the brakes and say, “Nope! We’re done! We cannot and will not do any more things until you take some time to recuperate!”

And who’s going to make sure that happens in the most romantic, wholesome, and slightly stern but sexy way?

Emmrich, of course 🤍

Also, I’m reverse uno-ing @emmg because I want to know what you’re cooking. LET ME INNNNNN.

I’m also tagging @allofthebarks because she said she has things she wants to write but the writing just isn’t coming, so comfort yourself in my clumsy, unedited WIP and just write A Thing. Dooooo it!!!

Veilguard End Game Spoilers Under The Cut

Cheering and accolades followed them through the ruined streets of Minrathous, and Amina took the time to ensure that no waiting hand was left unshaken, no hug went unreturned, and no condolence went unoffered. It took them nearly two hours to make their way to a damaged but still structurally sound estate secured for them by the Shadow Dragons but as far as she was concerned, it was time well spent.

As the ornate doors of the manor closed behind them and the cacophony of their victory was muffled, Amina took two steps into the manor, bent at the waist, and splattered the floor with the contents of her stomach.

Emmrich was on her in an instant, holding her long black hair aside with one hand and stroking comforting circles on her back with another.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” Taash demanded, taking a step forward. Her voice was distant - drowned out by the screeching whine in Amina’s ears.

She felt her legs wobble and give way, her armoured knees colliding roughly with the ground as she threw out a hand to steady herself, not caring that it landed right in her sick: everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too… real. It felt like she was being driven out of her own body like a wayward spirit, her essence clinging desperately to whatever it could hold onto to tether her here.

Just as distantly, Amina could hear Emmrich respond to Taash but his words were lost on her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and lurched clumsily to her feet.

“Harding - I need to go to her mother—“ Her voice broke: she hadn’t had time. None of them had had time to tell her mother about Harding’s death before Elgar’nan forced their hand.

She clenched her teeth at the sensation of hot tears cutting through the accumulation of grime and gore and sweat on her face, snarling defiantly through the deluge of agony crashing through her… breaking her from the inside.

There’s still work to be done…

She was pulling away from Emmrich, her course uncharted but steadfast: she needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as she was doing something… as long as she was helping. But no matter how she pulled and tugged, he wouldn’t let her go: lithe as Emmrich was, he wasn’t weak by any stretch.

With some effort he managed to put himself in front of her, gold rings clinking against silverite where he gripped her shoulders before pulling her tight against him.

“Breathe, darling.” He instructed, enshrouding her diminutive frame in his own. “I need you to breathe… can you do that for me?”

She managed an anguished sob in reply but nothing more: any attempt to draw breath was met with unforgiving resistance as her airways slammed shut in seeming rebellion of life itself.

Arrangements need to be made - things need to be taken care of, and I’m the only one left to take care of them.

No. First I need to breathe.

“I’ve got you: you’re safe with me.”

More tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes clenched shut and she forced a thin, ragged inhalation into her lungs.

“Well done, darling.” Emmrich encouraged, ever calm, ever heartening. “Now let’s try for another one, shall we? I’ll do it with you. Let out your breath on the count of three: one… two… three…”

She felt Emmrich contract against her as he slowly exhaled with her. None of this was new to her: Nevarran breathing techniques were required learning for Watchers. Claustrophobia could present unpredictably, and if one found themselves turned around or overwhelmed in the Necropolis, being able to stay calm was vital to survival.

“Perfect. Now another breath in…” He waited while Amina drew another shaky breath then loosened his hold on her to gently cup her cheek. Within moments she could feel the familiar soothing tingle of Emmrich’s magic coursing intimately through her, seeping through her nervous system and providing some relief.

“Emmrich,” she rasped, clutching at his chest. “I… I need to—“

“Do absolutely nothing.” He interjected sternly, his voice absent of any playful familiarity or scholarly flair, though it softened almost reflexively as he continued. “You’ve overextended yourself, Amina. You’ve been overextended for some time, but you pushed through to see this to the end - and you have - but my love, you can’t evade the reality of what you’ve been through indefinitely… you need to rest and take time to come to terms with things.” He drew his thumb over her cheek, speaking to her like she was the only person in the room.

“But—“

“All that needs to be attended will be seen to: Lace’s mother will be informed of her sacrifice in an appropriate manner, and the… actions of the Inquisitor will be communicated to the south.” He hung on the word ‘actions’ seemingly unsure of its accuracy but ultimately too focused on Amina to care.

She opened her mouth to argue, but likely having anticipated this from her, Emmrich spoke first.

“You’ve done so much and helped so many without asking for anything in return… please let me be the one to help you in your moment of need?”

His eyes searched hers, soft and pleading, and she studied the face of the man she loved: each pleasing curve and angle that she had committed to memory etched on her heart. The crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, and the creases around his familiar mouth spoke of years of smiles offered to comfort and soothe.

He was filthy too, and his hair was limp and disheveled, strands of it hanging into his face… but oh Maker how she loved him…

“I love you…” He whispered for her ears alone, his lips ghosting over hers. “And I so look forward to reminding you of that fact every day for the rest of our lives… so let me begin now: let me take care of you.”

[leejenowrld]

Hello pretty 💕

Your brain is so f r e a k I n g sexy omg 😮

Also I feel like this us so late B U T

I remember reading one anon dropping an thought about I think my first and last ( MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE BTW! I RE-READ IT WEEKLY LIKE ITS MY BIBLE 👀 NO OFFENSE SO ANY RELIGION!!!!) and it was about how Jeno and y/n had a one night thing : so like jeno had a fith some(?) and like once he was like inside of y/n OUR SEXY MAN got obsessed like he pushed of the other girls and only cared about being intimate with y/n ( SORRY I AM SO AKWARD AT WRITING SEXY STUFF 😭) and after that he grew even more obsessed and couldn't get hard by anyone else and just is such a silly lil cutie for her.

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? CAUSE IT DOES NOT LEAVE MY MIND! I AM OBSESSED EITH THAT.

Do you think you could still my hunger and elaborate/ give some headcanon or thoughts on how this could turn out based on your characters?

Love youuuuu

hiiii thank you so much 🥺 i honestly can’t believe how much love mfal gets… it’s always gonna be so incredibly special to me <333 and im so happy you guys love it as much as i do. i haven’t written mfal content in a while so here you go :) enjoy

───────────────────────────────

jeno’s wild reputation was something everyone knew about. his sexual past wasn’t just a whisper—it was a loud, unapologetic legacy. he’d been the guy who didn’t think twice about hooking up with random girls at parties, the one who’d dive headfirst into orgies, threesomes, or anything that fed his insatiable appetite for thrill and pleasure. his body count was high enough to be a campus joke, but jeno didn’t care. he thrived in the chaos of it all—the quick fucks, the anonymous hands on his skin, the breathless moments that meant nothing the second they were over. he was confident, cocky even, and the attention only fueled his endless hunger.

but then there was you.

you weren’t just another face in the crowd, another fleeting body to conquer. you were different, even before he could fully understand why. it wasn’t about sex at first—not at all. it was the way you challenged him, how your presence lingered in his mind long after he’d walked away. as the two of you started getting to know each other, forming a tentative friendship, something in jeno began to shift. the nights he used to spend tangled in someone else’s sheets started feeling empty, meaningless. for the first time in his life, he found himself hesitating, turning girls down without even realizing it. he didn’t want them anymore—not when his thoughts were so completely consumed by you.

and then there was the first time he had you.

jeno had thought he knew everything there was to know about sex—every position, every way to make someone come undone. but with you, it was entirely different. it wasn’t just about the mechanics or the thrill. it was about the way your body molded to his, the way your soft gasps turned into desperate moans, the way your fingers dug into his back as if you couldn’t bear to let him go. sliding into you for the first time was like nothing he’d ever experienced. you were so tight, so warm, and the way you clenched around him had his head spinning. it wasn’t just sex; it was consuming, overwhelming, addictive.

he couldn’t get enough—the slow roll of his hips, the way your nails raked down his skin, the broken cries of his name spilling from your lips. the way your body responded to his every touch, the way you surrendered completely but also met him halfway, made him feel like he was drowning in you. jeno lost himself in the rhythm, the heat, the sheer intimacy of it all. he couldn’t stop whispering how perfect you felt, how you were made for him, how he couldn’t believe he’d ever settled for anything less.

and it wasn’t just that first time. every time with you was like that—intense, raw, and utterly consuming. no matter how many times he had you, it was never enough. he’d memorize the way your body reacted to him, the way you’d moan his name like a prayer, the way your legs would tremble around him when he pushed you over the edge. it wasn’t just sex—it was connection, obsession, and love all tangled together in a way that left him breathless every single time.

jeno didn’t just stop sleeping around because of you. he stopped because no one else even came close. the idea of touching anyone else, of letting anyone else touch him, made him feel physically ill. you were it for him—the only one who mattered, the only one who could make him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had. he was addicted to you, to the way you made him feel, to the way you let him be himself without judgment.

and now, jeno wasn’t just the guy with the wild past. he was yours—entirely, completely, and without hesitation. he’d trade every meaningless hookup, every fleeting thrill, for just one more night with you, for one more chance to lose himself in everything you were. you weren’t just his lover; you were his anchor, his obsession, his everything.

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

I look at the state of the country and people's discussions on so many serious topics and I swear to god, I don't get what happened to their thinking. So many people just uncritically absorb media and online news and all I can just do is

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

What. The Count of Monte Cristo is so good :0

[widevibratobitch]

im so fucking mad at myself at my mother at her dead husband at god fucking knows what. "concentrate on yourself" well i cant can i. now more than anything i should and i cant. losing my fucking mind istg

[omotelie]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[seventh-district]

man. grief really sneaks up on ya at the most random times

[s0dium]

Monster Fucker

Monster Form!Sukuna x F!Reader

A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here

Synopsis: You are losing your mind from being fucked by monster form Sukuna

Warnings: DOUBLE PENETRATION, two dick four arms Sukuna, cream pie, dub cob, heavy detail, rough sex, sub space, nipple play

~

If heaven existed, this was surely it. And if someone could wield such euphoric pleasure and power over you then surely they were a god, and that had to be Sukuna.

"Hnghhh, please I cant -kuna-" Tears rolled down your face and dripped onto the white sheets below as you choked back a sob, kneeling on your hands and knees like a dog. Your poor cunt fluttered and squeezed Sukunas cock making the pink-haired curse chuckle. He is not even moving right now but the stretch alone has pleasure rippling through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

“Awwww you poor thing" Sukuna snickers darkly, pressing his second dick against you asshole. Two of his hands are on your tits, tweaking and flicking your nipples with his index finger in fast up and down motion, making your pussy quiver from the euphoric stimulation. He slightly leans down to let a glob spit hit the tight hole, smearing the gooey liquid with the tip of his dick on your ass hole.

"Scream my name for me okay?" Sukuna murmurs into your ear before thrusting his second dick inside you. You let out a choked scream at the feeling of his thick hard member forcefully spreading your tight insides, and oh my god you have never felt so fucking full in your life right now. On one hand Sukuna's dick is stretching your cunt and pressing against your gspot, the sweet spot that you only dream about hitting with your fingers. On the other hand, your brain is overcome with the entirely new feeling of getting stuffed from behind, and boy, the stretch and heaviness of it inside you has you gasping for breath.

There is no warning when Sukuna reels his hips back, both dicks almost leaving both of your holes before pushing back in, filling you up in a way you could never dream of. The warm tingly sensation that had previously formed at the base of your cunt was now spreading like wildfire with the penetration and friction from your ass acting as gasoline. You needed more, that one thrust wasn't enough you needed Sukuna to devour you.

“Please, I- Hngh- I want m-more!” you sob, and you dont even have to turn around to know that Sukuna is grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah? You want more?" He laughs and while continuing to play with your nipples, one his hand drops down to your clit to rub tight fast circles on the sensitive nub. "Who am I to deny you."

The next couple of second are a blur as he ruthlessly fucks you doggy style. It is a primal, brutal display of intimacy that has your thighs quivering.

“Nghhh, f-fuck me pleaseeeeee” you begged, hips long gone from doing any work, only allowing yourself to have both of your holes fucked like a flesh light. You cant breath, so much as think, each breath you take deepens the sensation, sending electric flesh arrows of pleasure across your body leaving your skin hot and tingling.

“You hear this? You hear these sounds?" One of Sukuna's hands grabs your hair and pulls you up right so you are no longer on your hands, now you are just on your knees, but he continues to fuck you from behind. "Your fucking dripping, dirty slut," He chuckles and from the corner of your eye you can see his tattooed skin move into a grin.

You are loosing your mind at this point and oh God, you were drooling. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and you were becoming lost in the rhythmic pap pap of Sukuna's skin against yours. The feeling that was forming in your core was starting to blossom, it felt as if every cell in your body was pulsating in harmony, carrying you closer to a state of pure, ecstatic release.

You wonder if you’re dreaming. It feels euphoric, being completely immersed by Sukuna's entire being - filled to the brim with him, surrounded by his large muscular body, his searing skin, his deep voice filling your ears.

"You want to come? Oh I know you do, come on~" Sukuna taunts you as he fucks you from behind. The combined friction and stimulation of both holes has your eyes rolling back and legs shaking with the upcoming orgasm.

Suddenly it hits you.

The muscles in your stomach clench and your feelings of pleasure some to a euphoric beautiful crescendo. Your tongue falls out of your mouth and your mind goes blank from the high of the feeling. With a light groan of his own, Sukuna creams into both of your holes; a ring of the white liquid forming at the base of the cock thats in your ass from to the tight fit, and the other shooting hot heavy loads deep into you.

Yes, this is surely heaven.

[astralnymphh]

loser!ellie: who goes completely dumb when you kiss her. not a regular kiss—but one that clothes her skin in clandestine crevices. eating her neck, licking the skin fresh, pulling the hems loose on her. it all drives her pupils up inside her head and tends her to a state of scattermindedness, one where she minds the things standing outside of her head. “joel's gonna be wonderin' where i am if you don't stop..” mumbling against your ear, her eyes going as far as searching the room for spectators. that is, until you begin pricking the reddened skin too breathtakingly; with kisses that form deeper colors, and surface the most quiet-soft, long and delighted noises to the corners of her almond-shaped lips. it begins a requiem for her thoughts.

she is oblivious to how lost she gets. you nip her, and all the definition fades from her features; dope-faced. in fact, she doesn't grasp what you're really doing to that precious spot on her neck, and the sudden pressure there, until your lips have already left. hurried fingers flee and feel for her neck. “did you—you did not just do what i think you—” there is a smile playing on her face. however, it is hard-pressed. she rummages for her phone in the pillow cradling her head, and paints her neck with the illumination of the camera screen. “fuck, babe, really?” she drags, prods and palms at the scarlet-red blotch, wincing with her teeth bare. you watch her throat bob as it clears. “that high on my neck, too?”

you had no head for remorse; tonguing for the treat again. “you deserve it,” you whisper, the ends of it warming her skin. it flinches under your lips. “for being so cute all evening, huh? holding, and squeezing my hand under the table where your friends won't see?” a gulp plummets through her throat, and you taste it. some reproaching tension is building in there, too strung inside her feelings and sensations to let it become words, and furthermore too bashful to let them glance along your mouth, and potentially stutter. she imagines she will, and it restricts her. but the tight, skin-hot knuckles curling in your shirt are a clear representation of what she keeps in her throat. “got so red when i let them see, yeah?” something delicate along the lines of: “such an asshole.” perching there in phantom response, but she scratches the words into your back instead. your lips make her want to be obedient.

she is so distracted—from your questions, from your lips— that when her throat does loosen up, a roll of your hips on hers is all it requires to descend her opinion and forget about the movie she wanted to watch with joel. the warmth in her pants made mush of her mind. “fuck— more,” she shivers with a gaping breath. begs with her waist arching into you, inciting you to do what you just did again. the voice in ellie cracks. “i mean, joel can wait a second longer, right?”

a/n: apologies for the lack of blurbs writers block is hitting everyone atm i think..

[evie-sturns]

confession - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you show up at chris’s house completely drunk at 1am, the last thing he expects is for you to admit all your feelings for him.

contains: bestfriend!chris, drunk!reader, fluff, teasing.

——————————————————————————

12:54am

i definitely drank too much, the air around me seems to be spinning and my head is pounding, what better place to go then my bestfriend chris’s house? i’ve known him forever anyways, he shouldn’t mind.

i giggle to myself as i walk up the stairs to chris’s house, everything is funny at the moment, especially the little garden gnome he has right by his doorstep.

my minidress rides up my thighs, my hair is messy and in my eyes and i barely know where the fuck i am.

i twist the doorknob and open his front door, the whole house is dark except for a small light down the hallway.

i invite myself into his house, deciding to walk down the hallway to his room.

i trip over my feet a couple times before reaching his room.

i push open the door slowly to find chris, sat up against his headboard, the only light in his room being the screen of his phone, illuminating his features perfectly.

“y/n- how the fuck did you get in my house?” he speaks, his voice is filled with pure shock, i don’t blame him.

“oh- it was open.” i mumble, slurring my words with a small laugh at the end.

“you’re drunk? oh gosh.” he groans, standing up out of bed and jogging over to me.

his sweatpants are slung low around his hips, he’s shirtless, showing off his small happy trail.

“hey- did you know that my friend layla is pregnant!? how crazy is that.” i instantly start to yap,

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me to his bed.

“and- and she’s like super pregnant aswell- who knew!” i shrug, flopping back onto chris’s matress.

“that’s crazyy” chris says, standing over me and inspecting me.

“i know right- and she didn’t even tell—“ i start but chris cuts me off.

“how much have you drank, seriously.” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“not a lot.” i lie,

“y/n..” he warns,

i instantly give in, “okay maybe a lot- but it’s okay cause it was a birthday party and you’re always meant to-“ i start but chris interrupts me again.

“do you feel like you might be sick hon?” he asks softly,

“no..” i mumble, manspreading on his bed.

he instantly walks over to me and subtly closes my legs,

“should we get you out of this tiny ass dress?” chris asks, tugging it down my thighs for a bit of modesty.

“yeah- i didn’t bring my sleepover bag though.” i say with a small pout,

chris laughs, “i wasn’t expecting you to bring your sleepover bag, wasn’t expecting ya in general!”

“sorry but it’s not my fault that i lost my phone so i couldn’t call an uber!” i whine

“you lost your phone?” he asks,

chris sorts through his closet to find me something to wear, before pulling out some sweatpants and one of his shirts.

“yeah but i’ll find it!” i grin widely,

chris walks over to me with the clothes he picked me out, “these look okay?” he asks,

“chrissuhhh! you know i don’t suit red!!” i groan, pulling the shirt he gave me out of his hands.

“do you want a different shirt?” chris says with a small laugh,

“no..” i mumble,

“let’s get you into these then,” he says, handing me the sweatpants

i stand up off the bed, before instantly tripping over into chris,

“oops- oh god.” he exclaims with a small smirk

“you want some help?” chris asks, his hands resting on my shoulders

“undress me chris.” i giggle with a wink,

chris shakes his head, “don’t eveeerr says that again.” he laughs.

“sorryyyy.” i smile, letting out a small hiccup from the alcohol

chris quickly tugs my dress up over my head, his eyes diverted to the side,

“i’m not looking- i swear..” he mutters,

he pulls the sweatpants up my hips,

“um- do you want to sleep in your bra or..” he whispers,

i shake my head, “take it off!” i say loudly with a exaggerated wink

he scoffs, wiping his eyes.

he unclasps it with ease, it drops to the floor and chris wastes no time pulling on the shirt.

“done.” he says proudly, kicking my dress to the side.

“let’s get you to bed.” he whispers, picking me up around my thighs and launching me onto his matress.

i squeal loudly, followed by a loud laugh.

“you have a lot of energy for somebody who’s been awake all night.” he grins, getting into bed beside me.

“wait! let me get back to my stories from the party-“ i start up again, chris rolls his eyes with a small smirk.

i tend to talk a LOT when i’m drunk, maybe even too much.

“okay so basically i was talking to uh- what’s her name? jen, i was talking to jen right and she’s just talking all this yap yap yap to me about her boyfriend being a bad boyfriend- and obviously i’m like single so i can’t relate to a word she’s saying but-“

i start, half of my words indistinguishable due to how slurred my speech is.

my mouth starts to move faster than my brain,

“so i told her, i was like- ‘babe i can’t relate’ and she was all like pissy at me! how crazy is that! she was like ‘not my fault that chris guy doesn’t want you’ that’s what she said!” i say with a small scoff,

chris nods, quite unsure of what i’m even saying.

“but- but i’m sure you want me chris.” i giggle,

“cause i really.. really want you and like i had a dream about you and it’s like apparently psychic shit if someone’s thinking about you they want you!” i exclaim,

“so if your thinking about me i’ll dream about you!” i finish,

“you really really want me?” chris says with a laugh,

i nod eagerly, completely unaware that i am talking too much, accidentally confessing.

“yeah- you’re so sexy! i wanted you for so loooong.” i giggle,

“funny joke sweetheart.” chris scoffs, pulling me to his side,

“it’s not even a joke anymore.” i laugh,

“want you ssooo bad, god i have for soo long chris” i say,

chris goes silent,

“you mean me? like you want me?” he says, sounding genuinely confused.

“yeah, i like you a lot!” i blurt out,

chris sits up to lock eyes with me,

“wait-“ i raise my voice, slamming a hand over my mouth as i realise what i’ve just said,

he looks down at me with raised eyebrows,

i shake my head as i keep the hand over my mouth, i bury my face into the pillow beside me,

“no- nonono- i wasn’t meant to say that!” i whine,

“shh,” chris says with a laugh, rubbing my shoulder.

“get some sleep sweetie, let’s talk in the morning, wake me up if you think you might vomit okay?” he says, laying down beside me.

i nod shakily, yawning.

i instantly pass out, my soft snores filling the room.

——

(The next morning)

i stir awake, my head pounding.

the warm sun seeps through the cracks in the curtains, shining directly into my eyes.

“you’re awake!” chris smiles, rubbing my back.

i sit up in bed, wiping my face.

“god i’m so hungover- how did i even get here what the fuck..” i mumbles,

“you showed up at a very late time.” he grins,

“one in the morning!” he follows up.

“oh god i’m so sorry.” i say with a croaky laugh.

i flop back down on the pillows, rolling over to face chris.

“you told me a secret last night.” chris says with a smirk,

my eyes widen, “what- what did i say.”

“i don’t think you meant it cause you were verryy drunk, but let me just tell ‘ya what you said.” chris grins,

“okay- okay fuck.” i groan,

“you said something along the lines of ‘chris i want you so bad you’re so sexy and that you’ve liked me for ages.” chris giggles, poking my sides.

my face goes red, “no i didn’t.”

“yes you definitely did.” he grins,

“oh god- i’m- i’m sorry-!” i groan, burying my face into the pillow,

“did you mean it?” he asks softly,

i pause,

i could just tell him i was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight- no.

“i might’ve meant it.” i whisper, “i didn’t mean to say that though.”

“yeah? you think i’m soo awesome.” he grins cheekily.

“yes, i like you a lot chris.” i whisper,

“you’re cute, y’know that?” chris smirks,

“god i can’t believe i confessed to you- not even while i was sober!” i scoff,

“at least you did.” he smiles,

the room goes silent.

i stare into chris’s eyes, my heart thumping

he grabs my chin, his thumb grazing over my lower lip.

“cmere.” he whispers,

chris sits up against the headboard,

i sit up aswell, crawling onto his lap.

i sit comfortably on his lap, my hands shaking nervously.

“don’t be nervous.” he whispers, his voice deep and hoarse now.

he keeps a firm grip on my chin,

he leans in?

i pause for a second, “i think i have morning breath.” i whisper

“you’re all good.” he grins,

chris presses his lips gently against mine.

oh my god.

i instantly deepen the kiss, my hand moving up to his jaw.

he keeps a hand on my ass,

he lets out a small groan into my lips, causing me to subconsciously rock my hips against him.

he pulls away softly, “can’t get too carried away.” he mutters, completely out of breath.

“sorry.” i grin,

“that was an unexpected way to start the morning.” i whisper,

he nods with a smirk, looking at me in awe.

he keeps his eyes fixed on my lips,

“i think it cured my hangover though.” i smile,

“you’re so pretty.” chris mutters, his eyes roaming over my face.

“i think i should get drunk more often and confess random shit to you, it seems to have a good outcome everytime.”

-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

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[iichfilwypj]

his dreamy girl | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: i mention a hit? this is pure fluff to me im very bad at this. Also i was falling asleep and i thought of these so it might suck <3 ღ wc: 685 pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

“And then he tried to steal my sword! The one that literally comes back to me! How stupid can you be?” his rambles echoed through Cabin 3 that hot, dark night. Some hours earlier, the blue team had won Capture the Flag, and Percy was especially excited to share all the details with her. 

Like every other time, she hadn’t attended; not because she wasn’t skilled with weapons, but because no one had managed to wake her from her nap. When Grover tried, he received a slap and a mumbled, “The horses are hungry”, in response.

So there she was, lying on Percy’s bed in her pajamas with a face mask on, listening to him recount how he had hit Clarisse on the nose, how he had nearly eaten dirt, and how Annabeth had, once again, shoved him into the lake. His voice was extremely high-pitched, and she was on the verge of bursting into tears.

That was something she hated about being a daughter of Hypnos. Although her father had blessed her with the divine power to control her dreams –and believe me, being a demigod, that was very, very nice–, he also gifted her with a constant sense of fatigue. At breakfast? She was tired. Lunch? She was tired. Oh, she just woke up from a five-hour nap? So what, she was still tired. She couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried. 

When she met Percy, she quickly became friends with the boy who, instead of ignoring her for hours until she apologized for something she couldn’t control, set up a cozy little corner for her in his cabin, with pillows, stuffed animals, candles, and even tea bags. Come on, that boy was willing to challenge his dyslexia just to read something for her before bed.

“And then Annabeth goes, Well, you should run faster. Like, what!? I run very fast, sorry–” Percy’s shout jolted his friend out of her daydream, having closed her eyes as thoughts raced through her mind. She looked at him, watching as he fiddled with the sheets, and decided she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey, ocean breath” she murmured, and to him, her voice sounded like a fucking angel’s. Seeing her there, in his bed made him feel like an idiot and a coward. 

He looked at her with curiosity, quickly recalling what he was about to share and feeling excited to tell about it. “What? I was about to tell you how she crashed into the tree,” but as her eyes slowly rolled back, Percy realized what was happening. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Oh, Zeus, don’t tell me you’re tired!”

He moved closer to her, resting his head on his pillow and basically lying down on top of her. By the way her head was tilting to the side, he knew he only had a few minutes left before she fell completely asleep. 

And yes, he totally chose those last minutes to tease her.

“Oh god, you’re like a baby! No, like a puppy. Wait, was it cats that slept like sixteen hours a day?” the girl tried to push him away with the little strength she had left, but Percy knew that deep down, she enjoyed this. Well, maybe not being squished by him, but knowing that he didn’t see her sleep as a bad thing.

She would never know, but Percy's favorite pastime was admiring her while she slept –oh my god, of course he couldn’t tell her that, it sounded really creepy. He cherished every detail about her, and if she was happy sleeping, he would make the whole world fall into an eternal slumber just to please her.

“Go to sleep, dreamy,” he said, gently flipping them both so she was on top of him. After turning off the little lamp beside the bed, his hands found their way to her back, stroking it softly. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. He dared to say “I love you”

But she was already lost in her dreams, and he was completely head over heels.

again, i am slut for fluff!!!! <3

[merakidoll]

sundress season!

he was oddly intrigued by the way your ass was bouncing so much in the long bodycon dress. he decided to walk behind you to the basketball court where everyone waited for the two of you guys arrival. “damn mama i’m making that shit fat” he chucked placing a hard slap onto your ass immediately pausing in his steps when there was no extra fabric - other than the dress, stoping you from feeling it.

“damn, stop that hurt!” you pushed him rubbing your butt then going back to walking, stopping when you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. turning he stood with a mug, eying you with hard eyes, and a stern look. “what?” you questioned giggling in your head because your plan was working perfectly. “you ain’t got no panties on?” “well .. no?”

“that’s a good girl” you now knew you had completely fucked up. your man quickly dragged you into an alley way, his hands held yours against the wall and above you- his cock being stuffed deep into your throat. gags, spit, and cum came from your full mouth, your throat contacted gargling saliva on his tip, tongue licking the base of his large dick in confidence that he wasn’t completely bitching you out.

“l-lost your fuckin mind ma’ma, mmm good slut. choke on my shit” putting both of your hands in one of his, he caressed your cheeks throwing his head back and shooting his cum deep into you making your swallow as soon as it shot out.

after that day you never thought to pull a stunt like that again, who am i kidding. yes you did.

onyankopon, aran, connie, eren

[bluejutdae]

“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you

warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.

This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…

Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier

Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.

So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.

One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.

Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?

What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.

It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.

“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.

“I understand.”

He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.

Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”

“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?

“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”

Oh.

The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”

“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.

“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”

Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.

He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.

“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.

Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.

Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .

“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.

“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”

The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.

“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.

“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.

“Then cum for Daddy.”

He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.

But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.

You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.

“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.

“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.

You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.

[dwaekkicidal]

pussyplay with channie????? like taping and slapping??? oh god

this plagued me since the second i saw it earlier today so i had to write something for it or else i'd explode.

edit; i was rereading this and realized that you mightve meant taping as in (tape) and not tapping LMFAO if thats what u wanted lmk and i’ll write you something for that bc i lowkey find that hot😭♥️

~700 words | warnings: fingering (f receiving), pussy slaps/taps, generally mean dom chris icl..., exhibitionism

god Chris and pussy slaps are so MMMMMMMM👹 he's the type to do softer slaps just to tease but hard slaps as a punishment for you misbehaving and/or moving around too much. unless its a day where he's pissed off for whatever reason and you give him the ok to use you. then you're really in for it.

❥ let's say that something went wrong at the studio earlier today; maybe one of his files corrupted and he lost hours worth of progress. i lowkey think he'd be the type to be so angry that he would cry bc he admitted to having anger issues lmao but after that, he's coming home and walking in the door in pure silence. maybe slamming doors subconsciously and/or setting things down aggressively.

❥ and, being the good little toy you are, you pull him into the bedroom and give him the option to either [A] talk about it with you or [B] fuck his anger out using you <3 and who is he to deny that good of an ultimatum???

❥ so he'll get all rough and pin you down to the bed >< almost ripping your clothes as he takes them off. or- better yet, if you have nothing but his shirt on then he's simply pushing your panties to the side. he'll force a few fingers down your throat to wet them and then shove two right into your cunt

❥ he'll finger you soooo meanly and the second you start to squirm too much for his liking or the second your legs try to close, one of those pretty, veiny hands are coming down on your clit >< he might even pull his wet fingers out to slap them across your folds too before plunging them back in

THIS JUST CAME TO MIND BUT IF HE'S ANGRY HE'S DEFINITELY THE TYPE TO SAY SHIT LIKE "This greedy fucking pussy. So tight and can't fit all my fingers in it." *whack* "What am I gonna do with you."

❥ but he's not a complete sadist though, so he'll rub over the area a few times as an apology and maybe give you a kiss or two there. but that's all you're getting <3 because this is about him and for once in his life he's allowing himself to be greedy (🔫), so he's gonna sit there for as long as it takes for his anger to subside (not long but he can and will pretend to be angry just to keep going)

the first way i thought of him tapping your pussy is through your panties ><

❥ maybe you're at an event with him or you're out at dinner with him and the boys. maybe you're just a liiiittle more bratty than usual for whatever reason, maybe you were being rude/a brat the entire way there and now that everyone is sat, you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself. so when it's <15 minutes into dinner, the appetizers haven't even arrived yet, and he already feels your hands on his thigh? his patience is thrown out the window.

❥ even more so when that hand moves right over the semi-hardon in his jeans and rubs it ever so lightly. then you're stealing his hand and sliding it under the table, to everybody else it looks like you guys are holding hands but trying to do so secretly, so if somebody notices they just smile and wiggle their eyebrows at the "PDA."

❥ but in reality you're sliding that hand between your parting thighs and placing your hand over his, basically instructing him to rub over your pussy through your already thin panties. and those thin panties that seem even thinner by the way your wetness seeps through.

❥ he'll shove his tongue into the skin of his cheek, squeeze his legs together to relieve some tension, and then he's swatting your hand away. he'll spread your folds through the fabric just to tap against your clit meanly. he wont even rub it or give it any other sort of attention; just tapping it softly sometimes then roughly the other. the rough ones make you actually jump/shiver and some of the guys catch on, but he'll just say you're cold.

❥ then he's not stopping until you start to make some noise, either if whines start to come out of your throat or if your breaths turn into low moans. at that point, he'll pat you a singular time and remove his hands. he'll act like nothing happened the rest of the night... until you get home c;

[heartsandhischier]

"You slept with who?"

nico hischier x reader

summary - 1.5k words. trying to escape an awkward encounter after a one night stand, emphasise on trying

author's note - in my head nico is such a sweetheart no matter the situation, and NO ONE can tell me otherwise. i will protect this man with my life!

warnings - slight reference to the devils tango (ig), swearing

As the morning sun tiptoed through the parted curtains, it painted the room in a soft glow, awaking you from a restless slumber. A throbbing headache served as your unwelcome alarm, joining forces with the sunlight to assault your senses. You pulled the covers over your head, seeking refuge from the discomfort, suddenly hit by an unfamiliar scent – cologne. With a jolt, you sat up, struggling to pry your heavy eyelids apart as you looked around the room. This wasn’t your bedroom.

Where the fuck am I?

Alone in the unfamiliar bed, you took a moment, attempting to piece together the puzzle of your surroundings. The room was clean, neat, the owner clearly a tidy person. Despite the overall cleanliness, scattered trinkets and personal belongings were scattered along the space, giving it a sense of lived-in comfort – a curated chaos. 

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the floor, a scattered array of clothing formed a path from the bedroom door to the bed. With a hesitant rise from the mattress, a sudden realization washed over you – you were completely naked.

Remnants of the previous streamed through your mind. Recollections of hitting the club with your girlfriends flooded back, the taste of margaritas still lingering on your lips. The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club replayed in your mind, each memory accompanied by the relentless pounding in your head.

As your feet met the floor, your head pulsed with every beat, you had to get out of here. This wasn’t your typical scene – you weren’t accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar beds after nights of festivities. And when these rare occurrences did happen, you never stayed long, avoiding any potential awkward encounters with one-night stands. Hastily you collected your belongings, attempting to look just a bit more presentable as you assessed your disheveled reflection in the full-length mirror. Panic set in as you realized your heels were missing – likely abandoned somewhere in the entrance hallway.

You peeked your head past the bedroom door, checking if the coast was clear. No one in sight. You kept your head low as you tiptoed along the corridor. Your heart raced with each step, the uncertainty of encountering the apartment’s owner weighing down on your consciousness. Lost in your haste, a collision abruptly halted your escape.

Fuck

As water splattered and your belongings scattered across the floor, the jarring sound of shattering glass pierced your ears. Before your bare feet could melt into the broken shards, a pair of strong arms caught you, preventing a painful misstep. A heavy silence settled over the room as you couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the stranger. “Are you okay?” His voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t quite pinpoint, breaking through the tension. Unable to muster a response, you offered a timid apology, keeping your eyes trained on the floor as you began to gather your scattered belongings. Finally standing upright, you mustered the strength to meet the stranger’s gaze. Warm brown eyes met yours, framed by a freshly-trimmed beard and tousled brown locks – a picture of effortless charm, even in the disarray of early morning wakefulness.

You were lost in his eyes for a moment. He must have noticed as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry for ruining your escape. I was just trying to get you a glass of water.” he explained with a soft smile, gesturing toward the now-spilled contents polled on the floor amidst the shattered glass. 

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him bend down to collect the scattered glass. It seemed like a series of unfortunate events had led you to this moment – waking up in a stranger’s apartment, breaking a glass meant for you during your escape, and now, standing awkwardly as he cleaned up your mess. What made it even worse was that you didn’t even know his name. 

An uneasy silence hung in the air as he continued to tidy up. "So... last night was fun?" his smile genuine despite the situation. You could only manage a sheepish smile and a polite nod in response, feeling utterly mortified. He chuckled at your response, tossing the broken glass into the trash.

Once he finished cleaning up, he approached you again with a fresh glass of water in hand. Dressed in a black t-shirt neatly tucked into a pair of gym shorts, you couldn’t help but notice the definition of his muscles peeking through the fabric. You politely accepted the glass of water with trembling hands. Taking a hesitant sip, the cool water provided some relief to your throbbing headache.

His laughter broke through the tension as he observed your state. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” he teased, causing your cheeks to flush even deeper. You stammered out an awkward apology, feeling like you couldn’t sink any lower in embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he reassured you, his voice gentle and understanding. “Since it seems we’re both in need of a little memory jog, how about we start fresh? Hi I’m Nico,” he introduced himself with a mock bow. 

You felt a smile tug at your lips, appreciating Nico’s effort to lighten the mood – definitely not the reaction you’d expected after the awkwardness of being caught trying to escape his apartment. “Nice to meet you Nico, I am Y/N,” you gave him a small courtesy, mirroring his playfulness. His laughter was infectious, melting away the tension that had gripped you moments before. It was amazing how quickly his easygoing demeanor put you at ease.

“I would’ve offered you breakfast, but I have to head out to practice,” Nico explained with a smile, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Early morning practice after a night out, wow, you’re a fighter,” you teased, genuinely impressed by his dedication given your own current state. 

"Well, gotta do what you gotta do when you're captain," he replied with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But I can offer you a ride home on the way.”

-

“YOU SLEPT WITH NICO HISCHIER?!” Sarah’s voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, drawing the attention of nearby patrons in the cafe. You hastily gestured for her to lower her voice, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Sarah’s hand shot to her mouth covering it, quickly scanning her surroundings she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You slept with Nico Hischier!?” her eyes were wide with excitement, barely able to contain herself.

“I didn’t know!” you chuckled, shrugging in amusement. “Yeah, that’s because you’re boring and don’t watch sports!” Sarah teased. “He’s literally the captain of the New Jersey Devils!” Sarah exclaimed, her arms waving around excitedly. 

“How was it? Was it good?” Sarah fired off questions, her curiosity barely giving you enough time to answer. You laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire interrogation. “You tell me,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. “I don’t remember, I mean, I didn’t even remember his name!”

Sarah’s eyes widened in realization. “You have to meet him again,” she urged, the sudden weight of missed opportunity sinking in. You groaned – you didn’t get his number. With a defeated sigh, you explained the predicament to Sarah.

“We’ll just have to go back to the club. tonight. “

-

The club pulsed with energy, red lights casting an enticing glow over the throngs of dancing bodies. Sarah and the girls were lost in the music, their laughter mingling with the bass thumping through the air. Despite their best efforts to drag you to the dancefloor, your attention remained divided, your gaze drifting to the entrance in hopes of spotting those familiar brown eyes.

It was a long shot, you knew, but it was worth trying. Why hadn’t you thought of exchanging numbers? You sighed, taking a sip of your amaretto sour. Amidst the chaos of the club, your purse buzzed incessantly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Fishing out your phone, you were met with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Normally, you wouldn't answer such calls, but tonight, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you shouted into the phone, hoping to be heard above the chaos of the club.

“I can see you're looking for me,” the voice on the other end replied, laced with the same thick accent. Your head snapped up, scanning the club for the source of the voice. And there he was, standing by a table surrounded by a group of guys you could only make out to be his teammates. His warm brown eyes locked onto yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gave you a small wave. A surge of relief and excitement washed over you as you realized you hadn’t lost your chance after all. You couldn’t help but smile, you probably exchanged numbers during your drunken encounter, lucky for you. 

With a grin plastered on your face, you made your way through the pulsating crowd. The warmth of his presence drawing you closer, as the pulsating rhythm of the club faded into the background.

“Hey stranger,” you playfully smiled. “Ready for round two?”

[fluideli123]

I've watched the DP&W movie twice in theaters and three plus times on a pirated site, and I wanted to grant my analysis on Wade and Logan's relationship that not only respects Vanessa--because Vanessa was literally Wade's Soulmate until shit hit the fan and you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands. But also explains how Logan and Wade actually represent a a-spec experience and relationship that I feel like no one has really gotten into. Am I saying they're a-spec? No. But that doesn't mean queer relationships that are fairly normal in a-spec spaces doesn't mean they don't exist outside of them as well.

First of all, the only two reasons I believe Vanessa and Wade broke up was 1) Wade went back in time to save Vanessa and he told her after his usual routine of jokes and lies and 2) Wade finally believed he could be something more, a hero, only to be turned down by the people who are known for their heroism, leaving him lost.

I genuinely believe Vanessa had a hard time taking in that knowledge, but knowing Wade and everything they've been through she would get through that like the badass she is and work through it using her plans A-Z, as she always does. But I think to really stop that woman from continuing to start a family with Wade like she wanted to in Deadpool 2, is if Wade was no longer within the right mindset to do so.

Deadpool 1 introduced Wade as someone who believed he was a bad guy who got paid to fuck up worse guys, he refused the term hero, and the moment he even tried to reach for something selfless. An act that would hopefully spare Vanessa from the pain of cancer, it all got fucked up and he got turned into a monster. Someone he deemed even lesser than he was before. So far gone and completely removed from what he was loved for (his looks and personality, but how could his personality stand alone when he looked so ugly? As ugly as he always felt on the inside?)

So he turned to what he's always known: Tracking people down and making them pay. In his mind this only confirms that he's a monster, he isn't deserving of Vanessa, of anyone. Which is why he finds comfort in Blind Al, a woman who will only have to deal with his personality and not be able to see how ugly he actually is. Symbolism for showing only half of himself and not him in his entirety (not that he can hide it from her, she's too wise, knowledgeable, caring, and knows Wade better than he knows himself at this point.)

Eventually, he finishes his hunt and is still loved despite what had transpired. Vanessa still chose him, still loved him. So maybe despite how ugly he is, he can still be loved. This grounded him, solidified his self worth, have him such stability that he had a thriving relationship with Vanessa that they were SO ready to start a family, aspired to live that dream. Another act of selfishness. Only to, once again, be met by pain. Get his dream taken away, once again resorting to what he knows: revenge.

Wade wants to be a hero? He gets forcefully mutated. Wade wants a family? Vanessa gets killed. Both are immediately solved by death, but that self-loathing and sickening hatred towards himself do nothing to cure that same confirmation he had once thought he got over: That he wasn't a monster, he could be loved, be something else.

So of course Vanessa is who, even in death, looks him in the eyes and tells him he cares, he has always cared. He cares so deeply about the people in his life he meets who unconditionally love him for him as time passes, despite all his flaws.

Wade wants to be a hero? Colossus believes he can be. Wade wants to save the 13-year-old abused kid? Vanessa knows he can. He saves lives by sacrificing himself. He scarified his comfort to show Vanessa the full truth of his ugliness, he sacrificed his life for Russel to give him a better life. Maybe he isn't a complete monster, maybe he can believe again. He can be selfish, he can be reckless. So he goes back and saves more people. Heroes do that. They save the people they love. You don't hold the whole world on your shoulders, no, like Miles learned in ATSV you think of one person of the few people you want to fight against the world to protect. And he did just that.

With Vanessa back and a big family he can finally chase after what he wasn't meant for. Because it's only happened twice, it wouldn't happen again-

Rejection. He can't be a hero because people don't need him. He is the needy one, the one who wants to be needed, needs to be wanted. So, it's the crash. The final straw. He breaks. He breaks so hard because what the fuck is the point to trying if every time he is met with failure? Rejection? Pain? Loss? He becomes so stuck in figuring this all out he neglects his relationship with Vanessa, causing issues. They go separate ways, but still so close, because you don't just lose your best friend like that, even if you're no longer partners. They're always meant to be together one way or another.

So you have this broken man who is searching for purpose, years later still harboring this tiny flicker of hope that he can be greater. He can be great. He can be a hero.

His world is in trouble, he doesn't think twice saving it. He accepts he isn't perfect for this, not like all the big guys back in Avengers headquarters, but he can't let his loved ones die because of someone he's had a vendetta against the last two movies.

He literally fights and fights and fights to find someone to help him, Wade can't save who he loves he has to find someone else you can, anyone else.

Than a broken, desperate man walks into a bar to see another broken man who has since long given up.

The thing about Logan and Wade is that they don't need words. Wade blew himself up in order to die in the second movie, Logan drinks himself away, both knowing they can't die no matter how much they want to. How much they believe they deserve it.

So Wade sees a Wolverine who has potential, who hasn't hurt him (unlike the others, he gets hurt so much, guys) and places his faith in him without hesitation. From that moment on he has never truly doubted Logan's abilities nor his heroism, because he knew his Logan and if his world was anchored by a Logan than all Logan's are built with something he isn't. They're made to be heroes, made to be important. Yeah, they fight, but I strongly believe that's how two broken men say everything words can't possibly describe.

I mean what words could describe the way they go all out on each other, knowing the other can't die, the way Wade looks up at him, not wanting to regrow his entire body because he needs to save his world and understands Logan and has to decide to say something that'll convince him to help. Wade doesn't know if stopping the machine will completely save his world or if a new Logan will patch it up too, it's his own educated wish he passes onto Logan. Because just like Russel, he cares. He understands. He wants to help.

It's that faith, hope, and resistance and face of humor despite it all that causes Logan to stick by that dumb asses side. He lost everything, he is seeing someone like himself before he stumbled home drunk from the bar to find everyone dead. Someone who is capable of doing something he wasn't able to. He wants to help, more and more for Wade and less himself, a silent journey of healing following Wades steps everywhere they stumble into.

Because Logan was just drunk at a bar before being told he was needed to save a world, told he was the worst before being offered help anyone, getting praised over his capabilities, and than told again and again how he is able to be someone he never thought he could be. Much like Wade was and is.

Logan sees it. Wade most likely ignores it, much like anything else. He isn't very open with anyone other than Vanessa as we've learned.

So just- of course Wolverine is the honest one, of course he hits low, he sees himself and Wade and wants to hurt him. Wade wants to hurt him back, but only when he's directly attacked by his words and threats, a way of not taking shit. Logan took shit from the world and than didn't from Wade and his emotional rollercoster right. And I think without whatever happened in that Honda Odyssey things wouldn't have been the same. They needed that fight, that release, that hatred from themselves to burst into the form of someone else who could take it just as much as the other could.

Logan listens to Wade's home at the borderlands. Logan is given kindness and tough love. Logan joins. Logan begins to understand how most linger by Wade's side despite everything. He sees why. He's a force, he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, not for others. It grants strength, though imperfect and messy.

Logan believes Wade deserves better. So he plans on sacrificing himself only for Wade to once again show how much of a Hero he wants to be and could be. Only for those two idiots to hold hands to madona and come to a mutual understanding and comfort that has Wade making room for Logan in his and Al's apartment.

And there is something so inherently a-spec about not being explicitly sexual with each other, having an understanding that goes beyond direct words and full truths. They they can hurt one another and it feels so good, so wanted and cherished. How they support one another by being fucked up and sloppy. They're wrecks and they help the other heal, do what they're too afraid to do.

What is more a-spec than two people looking at each other with adoration and trust? To be two people who cannot be placed within a single both because their relationship and meaning to one another isn't so neatly cut and within expectations? To love in a way that blood and standing side by side is a comfort? A steadying point in which everything becomes clearer with time?

They make me so fucking sick, they make me so FUCKING SICK.