#i had to give it its own post...bc...look at it

[lycapicta]

Siffrin Headcanons bc i cant sleep

As soon as bro said nya in my game he was assigned the required paws and tail

Doesn't unsheath claws unless he's not wearing gloves they dont wanna ruin them :((

Hair does become completely white after a while but he was talked into dyeing it two tone style again since it suits him

Idea stolen from a friend, but I very much like the idea of Siffrin being albino would explain why he's covered up most of the time

He does not tan he burns...

You all know who I am: Siffrin definitely purrs

He continues his touch therapy outside of the loops and is pretty good with it! He does still get spooked sometimes when he's not ready

Still struggles quite a bit with asking for affection or attention (its easier for him to ask for it from Isabeau)

Cried the first time they ate something outside of the loops

Regularly gets combs or brushes from Mira, but he lets Isa do it once in a while bc he gets jealous lol

Sif didn't completely lose his eye but it is dead (i.e. cant cry out of it, cloudy/damaged) he also can't open it fully and usually settles for having it closed

Their eye patch covers it most of the time but in my design his eye scar is star shaped :)

Spoilery headcanons below the cut

Despite Mira’s healing Sif has lots of scars from hurting himself in the final confrontation with his friends

He has a huge star shaped gash on his chest that mimics Loop's, albeit significantly less clean looking

Has small scars on his arms from the self harm event that you can get in act 5 if you interact with the shard of glass (tries to hide them *unsuccessfully* from his family members at first)

Has chronic pain (something i thought of since the pain he goes through for each of his deaths while looping sort of carries over)

They often have spells where they're in too much pain to move or speak. In these cases the family finds an inn or a place to lay low for a while until it passes. He gets lots of pampering and good foods

This is explored in a fic i haven't finished but Mira teaches Siffrin VSL (Vaugardian Sign Language) to help whenever he becomes nonverbal. He uses it regularly but still struggles a lot with matching Vaugardian words to their respective hand signs

Seems to recall more and more things abt his country as he gets older but he never truly remembers everything (Odile writes everything that she can down for him)

I imagine when the party DOES eventually split up Isabeau and Siffrin still travel a lot, but have their own place in Jouvente whenever they need to settle for a while.

Siffrin is excited to see everyone else's hometowns/countries and is always so happy to see everyone again

Siffrin LOVES touch post loops and is usually all over Isabeau (Isa still has not recovered lmao)

For a long time after everything and even recently Siffrin is enamored with the changes in the weather and the seasons (particularly the rain and snow or the rumble of thunder)

The first night that he experienced a storm after the loops he stayed up for a while watching the rain and listening to the thunder (he had to be coaxed to get his butt in bed)

I also headcanon that he enjoys being out in the rain a lot even if he does become a sopping wet cat afterwards

He never truly gets his original hat back and still has remnants of mannerisms he'd done when he had it (trying to pull down on the brim when embarrassed, etc.)

Isa regularly does a bit of maintenance on his cloak to keep it in good condition (no one else is allowed to touch it)

Sif has episodes where he'll stare up at the stars and sob. He's usually inconsolable, and all the others can do is just be there to give him comfort

Whenever Sif has nightmares he has them in that strange shade (red)

[treasuregamble]

pizza pool toy

[moeblob]

son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control

[lilcathsmith]

Greg in every episode of CSI (197/328) • Family Affair •

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[whimsica]

the pokedex is literally just the pokemon world's iNaturalist. it gets handed out to various 10 year olds and theyre sent to document pokemon because thats just what its like when youre 10 and have The Beasts type autism

[dangoulains-devotion]

yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad

[skitskatdacat63]

I never see Sebs posts until like hours later when I come on here and eventually see it and it's just like OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEB!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CANT KEEP DOING THIS TO ME!!!!!!!!!! SEB ON HIS SHOULDERS 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 SUCH AN UNDERRATED MOMENT AND THEN HE JUST CASUALLY POSTS IT ON HIS INSTA OUT OF ALL OTHER PICS HE COULD'VE CHOSEN!!!!!!!! AND HE TAGGED MARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM LOSING IT AAAAAHHHHH

[gabv1el]

Ultrafarming au (prompted lightly by @magicalballerinaprincess)

[its-like-looking-in-3d]

.

[dirtyvulture]

BBB

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*

18+ only read at your own risk

Word count: 3248

Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay. 

AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)

This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room. 

“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.

“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains. 

“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”

“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself. 

“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.

***********************************************************************

A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.

For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.

She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.

But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.

Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.

“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community. 

She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.

What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.

“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”  

You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.

You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.

Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.

***********************************************************************

“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.

“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part. 

“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter. 

Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.

“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness. 

“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.

***********************************************************************

Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick. 

She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:

From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk

Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?

Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:

To Y/N: Ok

***********************************************************************

“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.

“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.

“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”

“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.

“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.

Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”

“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.

“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.

“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”

“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.

You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it. 

“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.

“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”

“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.

“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.

“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”

Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.

“Why the change?” she asks.

You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”

Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.       

“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed. 

She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.

“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.

“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.

“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm. 

“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too. 

Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach. 

“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements. 

“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.

“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist. 

Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.  

“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”

The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.

“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.

She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”

“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”

“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm. 

“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.

“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.

“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.

“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.

“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”

You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious. 

“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”

Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.

“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.

“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Sorry to Sam lol

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

...

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[joeloverture]

morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance. 

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven. 

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

[ughdontbeboring]

pain relief

Austin Butler x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Reader is trying to hide her chronic pain from her man

warnings: chronic pain (migraines), insecurities, smutty

THIS FOR ALL MY CHRONIC PAIN GIRLIES!!

notes: WOW even with all the Austin wips in my notes this is my first one to be posted, wow idk makes me nervous 😅 yall I hope I did our sweet boy justice.

No description of ethnicity one comment of complexion that’s it but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

this is SUPER self indulgent, So I first thought of this from his interview with Jimmy Kimmel when they asked about the migraines as an excuse not to have sex and of course his response was spot on he said “I don’t know what a migraine is” and Jimmy said “of cour you don’t” lmfao bc idk if I’d even turn him down if I had one!

I had a really bad period of back to back migraines for a couple months and this is what my brain rewarded me with in between one. I really don’t know what this is yall lol so don’t ask idk if I’m actually happy with it but yea lol

I put x reader but idk I guess it can tell be read that way, I don’t have the energy to re write it y’all so

now that I’m starting to feel better I will be catching up on my other wips.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

🤕

Don’t focus on the pain, don’t focus on the pain she repeated over and over again in her head from under the safety of the soft cool cotton comforter as if it would keep away the pounding pain, protect her from it. 

It would not. 

Even with the house dead silent, the fan on for a little noise and all the black out curtains drawn that her boyfriend insisted he buy when he learned about her diagnosis from childhood- she knew relief would not find her. She shifted trying to readjust and find a more comfortable position to lay in, the little pocket above her head letting much needed cool air into her little bubble. 

She knew a few weeks ago she should have reached out to her neurologist but she’d just been so busy it kept slipping her mind and the aspirin had been holding her over but this? no this one was a monster and it was full peak right now. It started almost a day ago after the LA screening for The Bikeriders and had not gone away.

It didn’t help that they also just got back from the UK press tour. All the flying, the red carpets, the flashing lights and noise was starting to take its toll. Recently her boyfriend of just a little over a year revealed to her how much he enjoyed having her accompany him and how he loves sharing those moment with her. Hence all the traveling she’d done recently at his side. 

They still believed in healthy space but they truly enjoyed being together as much as they could. 

Usually she’d fly out every 2 or so weeks to wherever he was since her job was more flexible, their relationship was long distance since she was still living in New York. Which they’d also discussed changing that status but they both agreed to iron out the plans once the tour was over and he had a few weeks of down time. They figured the actual move would happen after he filmed in NY the end of summer. Knowing summer was her favorite time to be home, ever the thoughtful boyfriend. 

Though she was nervous to tell her family. They adored Austin but they’re a very close family and not seeing them everyday would take a lot of time to adjust to but it was important at this point in their relationship to actually be together. He even mentioned he’d love to look for a New York apartment which she had thought was unnecessary they could just stay with any of her family members when they visited until he reminded her she wouldn’t want her family to know she was his pretty girl who got cock drunk and loud when he fuck her stupid. Yes their own place was necessary. 

She felt a sharp pain at her temple and groaned. It was like her brain was telling her to stop thinking about all the stress and think about the pain she was in, which she didn’t want to do either honestly. She wish she could sleep it off but it was impossible. 

She flipped her pillow to the cool side and once again tried to empty her brain. Deep breaths girl deep breaths, the pain isn’t forever. 

She heard the front door slam shut up, which made her curl up even more in a fetal position and the deep smooth voice of her favorite person calling out to her. That voice was her favorite in the whole world but right now she needed silence. She had hoped the migraine would have been over by the time he got back but she wasn’t so lucky. Now she would have to face the music.

She had been telling him the past couple weeks it was just little headaches nothing serious, he knew she got migraines but hadn’t experienced any with her so far. The past 2 years she hadn’t needed to be medicated, the doctor couldn’t tell her why they suddenly stoped and why she was only getting little headaches every once in a while. This is why she was so unprepared and completely out of her medication she hadn’t needed in so long; she truly thought they had finally stopped for good. 

She couldn’t have been more wrong with the pain that was throbbing in her head. The front of her skull a constant ache and the back at the base of her skull and neck a wicked throbbing. The pain in her neck and shoulders unbearable even right between her eyes a sharp pain. She felt like she was dying. The fatigue of the attack her body was under was starting to catch up to her. She was trying to hold back the tears but the sound of boots pounding up the stairs along with the call of baby had her on the verge of a tearful melt down. 

She wanted to avoid the conversation that would surely come after this, when he would witness her in a peak migraine state. She felt horrible because she knew he’d feel like it was his fault for encouraging her to come with him to all the press events but it wasn’t his fault. 

She was an adult and she should have addressed this weeks ago with him and her doctor when the headaches started and not try to hide it to avoid worrying him. 

She should have been honest and though she has no reason to be she was scared to tell him.  She was scared he may think she wasn’t able to handle this kind of life. What if he wanted someone who didn’t need to recharge so often? Or someone who could just do anything with him at anytime not be laying in a bed sometimes for more then a day in pain and grumpy. Someone who couldn’t be touched in this state or be the prefect girlfriend. 

She also knew she sounded ridiculous that wasn’t who Austin was but it didn’t stop the insecurity she had about her migraines and how they held her back from life sometimes. Held her back from being fully emerged into his lifestyle. The guilt wrecked her. 

She knew she was mostly feeling insecure about her migraines because of those comments. She wasn’t normally insecure but recently she had read some comments which usually don’t bother her, about her and Austin’s relationship and how unhappy she looked being on press tour and if she was so unhappy why not just leave so he could be with someone who was happier with him. Those people obviously ignored the photos that were not taking at events that showed how happy they were but not knowing or they probably didn’t care she couldn’t be happier than she was, she was just suffering from more frequent migraines. 

So of course they’d focus on the bad, not all the fans but some. A lot of fans, who she felt were real fans could simply see how happy Austin seemed again. She knew how that felt, she met Austin as a fan and all his relationships and flings after Vanessa seemed lackluster and without any real connection, so she got it. But some of the comments were really getting to her at this moment. Especially the ones about how he looked happier with Kaia (which she knew was a lie from hell, she heard all about that relationship from Austin, his last ex) and then the ones about Vanessa looking happy ALL the time, which was funny because Austin spoke to her about their relationship also and if fans only knew it wasn’t always perfect, yes they loved each other but still there was a lot of hurt in that relationship for Austin. 

Then when those things would pop up she’d think what she’d say to her mans ex’s if she ever met them or if she’d just ignore them. 

Her head throbbed hard from all the unnecessary thinking and stress she was bringing onto herself, things she normal never paid any mind when the bedroom door swung open. 

Baby? He called again, steps coming to a slow stop halfway into the room when she assumed he noticed the state of the room; all the curtains drawn, the TV and lights all off, no noise but the fan she placed near the bed even though the central air was on and the pile of blankets on the bed covering her balled up body. Not a single part of her visible as she quickly stuck her hand out the air pocket at by her head careful to not let any light in and weakly waved at him. She could hardly speak let alone move her head to acknowledge him anymore. 

“Baby you still in bed? It’s 10” He asked as he walked closer, not that he cared it was just unusual for her and caused a bit of concern to form in the pit of stomach. 

He watched the head or he’s assuming area of the blanket shake in a yes motion. Even with the black out curtains there was still just enough light to make out everything in the room. 

“Baby what’s wrong” he asked in a soft voice from the edge of the bed, his hand running gently up and down some part of her body under the blanket. Her body coiled away from his touch. He tried to shake away the slight sting it caused him.

“uh migraine” she whispered weakly, if he wasn’t mistaken he could hear the underlying embarrassment in her tone. What could she be embarrassed about? 

“Oh shit baby, you need anything? Anything I can do?” He genuinely asked in gentler tone, though she couldn’t see how his eyes soften knowing she was probably in an immense amount of pain. 

He felt useless. 

“Uh no, just gotta be left alone for a while” this time there wasn’t any embarrassment in her tone just guilt. 

Austin tried to school his own face and tone of disappointment. He know he couldn’t do anything truly to make it go way but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her like she’d been there for him on all his overwhelming days and nights from filming and traveling. His sweet girl deserved that. Then he thought back to this one thing he’d came across when he was reading online about migraines when she first told him she got them pretty frequently in the past. He quickly dismissed that idea, a slight blush creeping up his neck, he felt a little embarrassed himself for even thinking to suggest that, who says that to their partner Austin? He thought. She clearly needed to be alone. 

“Ok I’m just head downstairs then, call me if you need anything”  

He took another moment eyeing her blanket fortress before turning and slowly heading Towards their bedroom door.

“Austin?” He heard her call shyly, her voice still muffled from the layers covering her.

“Yea?” His own tone was laced with curiosity.

“Uh…there…there is one thing you could probably do for me…if you don’t mind..if you do it’s ok-“ 

He was quick to be at her side, slipping out his shoes, ready for whatever. His stomach burned a little thinking she may ask what he thought of just briefly a moment ago.

“Anything” 

He watched her baby blue fresh set of nails slip from under the blanket and her hand reaching out for his. His own large hand was in hers before he even registered it moving. She tugged him lightly, his body following gently. He was careful not to touch her as he laid next to her, his chest near where her head was, he remembered her saying how she didn’t like to be touched when she was having an episode, everything felt more intense and for some reason it usually amplified the pain. 

“Can I use your hand for a while?” She asked shyly still under the safety of the blankets, he could hear her clearer through the hole she left at the top. 

He felt guilty at the blood that rushed his cock.

“Of course” He said squeezing the right hand that held his left one. 

He allowed her to maneuver his hand so that his left hand was under her head, she placed his fingers at the base of her skull, thumb on one side and his fore finger and pointer finger on the left side.

“Can you keep your fingers like this and apply as much pressure as you can? This are some of my pain points and the right kind of pressure can ease the pain a little, usually I tie a scarf but it isn’t always helpful” she mumbled weakly. 

He was confused. 

“Oh ok..I..I thought-“ 

This wasn’t something he read, though he seen something about heat compress. He was confused because he thought she was going to ask for his hand to give her an orgasm. That was something interesting that he had came across. It said it didn’t work for everyone hence why he was slightly embarrassed to suggest it, he didn’t want her to think he was only thinking with his dick. 

He applied the pressure anyway, happy to help anyway he could.

“Is that good baby?”

“You can press a bit harder” 

He did as she said, feeling her body adjust just the tiniest bit next to him. A soft sigh leaving her lips.

She soft voice thanked him. He hummed a response, his own body adjusting slightly to get more comfortable.  He would lay here as long as she needed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she called his name.

“Yea?” He asked feeling more tired himself than what he thought he was when he got home.

“What were you going to say? When I asked for your hand?” She replied softly voice full of the need for sleep.

His felt that fire and a blush come back. He chuckled to himself. Now was good as anytime to confess his unconventional suggest and figure out if it was something helpful to her or if it was something she even heard of before. 

“Uh..I..I had been reading about migraines when you first told me you got them, trying to understand them better-“ He was cut off by a whimper she made, a pitiful sound of endearment. He knew what she was thinking, she was taken back by his willingness to be there for her however he could and that meant trying to understand what she would be going through. He kept going. “And I was reading how orgasms can sometimes help temporarily, but I didn’t want you to think I was just thinking with my dick” he concluded softly. Feeling better about just getting it out and in the open, it didn’t feel so dirty anymore, like he was taking advantage somehow. He knew her better than to think she would think that but it didn’t stop his insecurities about the topic. 

He felt her body stilled.

shit was she mad at him? He felt the slight unease creep into his stomach and his insecurities intensify at the thought that she would be mad at him for suggesting such a thing when he noticed her right hand slip from under the covers. 

Her soft palm facing up and open in a silent question and permission, are you still willing? And of course you can touch me. 

He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her his right hand, her soft fingers gently pulled his under the covers, her forearm resting ontop of his own as she slipped his hand under hers to be guided where he couldn’t see. Once his rough fingers tips ghosted over her wet pussy he didn’t need anymore guidance, he knew her too well, maybe better than she knew herself. 

She gasped at the first touch and her hand left his to grip his forearm, as he’d started to explore her wet folds.

“How are you this wet already sweet girl? Hmm? Just can’t help yourself around daddy?” Austin questioned softly from above her, awe clear in his voice. He stayed laid on his left side, careful his body other than his hands didn’t touch her. 

“Fuck” she groaned quietly from under the blankets. “Guess my body always needs you daddy” she moaned out. He groaned as his fingers applied more pressure and speed. 

He felt the twitch in cock as she coated his fingers and moaned softly and weakly. His fingers switching between slow and quick. He was so painfully hard. He had to stay focus this was about her but how could he when her tight wet warm pussy was calling him? Begging for him. Her body was hardly moving just her hips grinding slowly into him.

Even fully covered by a ton of blankets he was still completely in-tune with her body. He didn’t need to see her face though he wished he could to kiss her soft lips, to know the pleasure he was giving her, to know she was close. 

He blindly felt the warmth and wetness of her pussy driving into his hand slowly chasing the pleasure he was somehow able to provide in this state.

“Cum for me pretty girl, take it” he groaned lowly.

She moaned out, she sounded so exhausted and pitiful but he could tell she wanted this, needed it and he was more than happy to give it to her. 

She squealed softly as she rocked against his hand, her body exploding and the sweetness of her drenching his fingers, her face seeking the comfort of his embrace under the blanket, he moved over slightly as his left hand still pressed to the pain points guided her, help her her blanket covered forehead lay against his chest. Her hips kept rocking slowly chasing the feeling.

“There you go baby” his husky voice praised even with a migraine she was still his good girl. So wet and warm and tight for him.

Moments passed with his fingers still cupping her warm sticky folds and the other still applying the pressure she required, neither hand moved as he felt her drift of to sleep, her body finally relaxing from the endorphins of her orgasm. 

Austin woke to the press of a soft warm body slightly on top of his and light kisses and licks against his neck. He stirred and tried to adjust his eyesight to the darkness that had over taking the room. It must be late.

“Hey baby” her voice sounded softly, her lips suddenly near his own. She kissed his plump mouth, pecking kisses over and over. She sounded a lot better.

His arms moved to embrace her, pulling her further ontop of him and as close as he could get her. 

“Hey baby” he replied his eyes seeking hers. The dimmed light from the hallway allowed him to finally see her. Though he didn’t physically see her face earlier, he knew she looked more well rested than she had in the past day or two. Her eyes had a fatigue to them but he was sure that would clear up from the migraine once she got some more rest. All and all she almost looked back to her normal self. 

Her hand snaked up his chest to cup his face.

“Thank you, for everything” she told him a little emotionally.

He brought his lips to her for a passionate kiss, before laying his foreheads on hers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me, I’m yours, that’s what I’m here for, to take care of you” he whispered against her lips.

She pecked his again. 

“And I’m still going to say thank you” she mumbled.

He pinched her side playfully as she laughed and pushed at him.

They just gazed at one another and she had to blink to stop the tears. She had woke to Austin on his back, her body against his. She had unconsciously sought his while she slept as the tension faded from her body and to her surprise his hand was still gripping the back of her head. The pressure had loosed when he eventually fell asleep but his hand was still there nonetheless. She didn’t think she could love the man more and here she was slipping further in the ocean that was Austin and some how she was learning she could breathe underwater. He was everything to her.

“I have a surprise for you sweet boy” she said smiling at him like he hung the moon and she’d die on that hill that he did.

Austin’s chest ached in a good way. He never wanted this to end. Couldn’t imagine it being any other way. Everything that had failed for him relationship wise lead him to this moment with her. He was better for it. 

“Hmm, what’s that?” 

She nodded her head to the side of him and that’s when he noticed the en-suite bathroom door open and the soft glow of candles burning. The scent of oils and salts hitting him. He quickly turned back to her.

“Wh-“ 

“You were knocked out and I wanted to return the love” 

“You little sneak” he accused tickling her sides.

She was quick to scramble away from his hold and climb over him getting to her feet and out of his grasp when his hands followed her as she head toward the bathroom.

She stopped short of the door as she pulled her oversize graphic shirt over her head. 

“I would do that you know, sometimes, never with men though, I hated being touched during my migraines but when it was really bad and I had the energy I would do it myself to help ease the pain” she spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, the soft light surrounding her body, giving a even more beautiful glow to her brown skin. “I didn’t think it would ever work from someone else’s hand, not too sure what that means handsome” she smirked.

So she had done that before he thought but just never with man, no man had ever made her comfortable enough to try let alone achieve bringing her relief. Austin felt those butterflies in this stomach again, he felt a sense a pride swell in his chest. His cock was even stirring again. That’s exactly who he wanted to be for her, the man that gave what she needed, what others couldn’t, he wanted to be the one no other man could compare to. He wanted to be her all.

She smirked at him almost as if she could read his every thought and she could because they mirror her own and how she felt about him.

“Lets go loverboy, it’s time for the real show” 

X

X

ALSO yall don’t have to say anything abt it but i find it helps SOMETIMES but alone so I thought who could make this work for me with another person of course our boy Austin could bc he’s so perfect. He’s the only one I’d let touch me with a migraine lol

[inf3ct3dd]

streamer!ellie headcanons

warnings: yo no se

content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥

authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….

- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.

- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!

- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm

“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”

“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”

- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING

- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time

- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)

- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)

- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔

- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream

- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!

- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her

- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE

“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”

- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL

- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit

- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪

- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”

- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them

“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”

- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.

- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.

“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.

you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.

- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.

pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine

minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad

rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL

and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.

creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE

- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY

- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔

- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂

- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded

- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳

- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?

- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.

- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.

“what a coincidence.”

- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.

- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.

“im just letting you win.”

“beginners luck.”

but shes SO COCKY when she beats you

“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”

“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”

- definitely helps you build your own pc.

- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.

“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“

“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”

“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”

- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)

- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”