#so this is more looks bitches have normal feelings about (im bitches)
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fucking OURGHHHHy
#vent post uwu i thought i was good now but we are so fucking back alas#chat is it normal to hate your mother for giving birth to you đ#like im not really mad about her being fucking insane while raising me or whatever. im mad that she like. decided to have a kid at all#like genuinely thats the one thing i cannot forgive lol anyway.#my fault i admit. for slipping and saying out loud that im ugly next to her but i was really really clawing-at-my-face-level frustrated#but her saying to 'just let it go' cause its 'annoying' like lol&lmao easy to say for you bitch you've always been fucking gorgeous#you have no idea what it feels like to have to look in the mirror and see â¨this⨠every goddamn time.#let alone see yourself in pictures taken by someone else đ¤Ą#like sorry but nothing infuriates me more than objectively beautiful women telling you to đlove yourself#bitch lets switch and see how you đlove yourself when you look like me#she's lived her 20s looking like goddamn hedy l/amarr and she has the nerve to tell me im annoying#because i nearly broke down at the brafitters and maybe let a few tears slip yesterday#and today i let my guard down and said out loud why im sad. which i avoid doing like fire because god forbid im annoying to my mom#idk bitch im so tired of living like this it sure is fucking annoying#not her fault really. she's a genuinely great mom. i just hate being alive lol#'did you see what she looks like' yeah bitch i see it every day#and believe me when i say that i still find it almost as shocking as you that a person can look like this. you're not alone in this <33
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tumblr if it was ghosts
@gwensy look at my ghost dashboard

đď¸cunty-phantom follow
ough my downstairs neighbors are soooo annoying "can you stop rattling your chains at 3am" this and "some people actually still need to sleep" that. first of all. when you get to my state of decomposition youll understand. second of all. how else am i supposed to haunt this attic, bitch? by being nice and polite?

đťcoo0ochie-haunter follow
some of you (not naming names) don't know how good you have it. oooo the straight up castle youre haunting doesn't have enough leaks to drip water through creeply when it rains? well my fucking graveyard got bulldozed and turned into a shitty gasstation. so maybe be more grateful next time
#vague #rant

đ°lonelylady follow
i just wish the couple renovating my castle to turn it into an air bnb hadn't closed up all the leaks in the roof :/
#i really liked the sounds the rain made when it dripped through #i AM exited for the new company though :3

đ˛slimy-spectre follow
can we honestly destigmatise ectoplasm? its a normal part of being a ghost, especially for those of us with psychic powers and im so sick of nobody talking about it because they think its "gross" or "too slimy".
đťcoo0ochie-haunter follow
just say you dont practice personal hauntgiene and stop posting about your disgusting habits on hauntblr smh
đ˛slimy-spectre follow
someone clearly watched too much ghostbusters
#also thats literally not how it works AT ALL

đghoulishous follow
boring victorian dresses are OUT, old bedsheets are IN.
#i know the whole "ghosts wear bedsheets" thing is a huge misconception by humans #but they did kinda pop off with it #may i also say #they make me feel extremely gender
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á´á´ĘÉŞá´á´
ęąá´x? ⨠ĘęąĘ á´á´É´
â pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader
�� inspo: im feeling sick in the head and also Fuck Me by Vernon Jane
â§ a/n: uhhmmmm i deserve to be a little freaky and weird and perverse ALSO IDK WHY THE X LOOKS LIKE THAT AND ITS ANNOYING ME TOO. LETS IGNORE IT, TOGETHER
đ cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (for the bad bitches with uteruses), period sex (spoiler: theyre ALL into it.), fingering, face sitting, use of toys, dry humping (?), thigh riding, cunnilingus, thigh job, mutual masturbation, cowgirl/boy position, mating press, not proofread
â wc: 4.1k
MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY
⯠Aventurine
AVENTURINE is all for it, if it means itâll make you feel better. He prefers to use toys, if anything. He doesnât mind getting his hands dirty, but heâs more worried about hurting you. So heâs got a set of vibrators specifically that he likes to use while youâre on your period. And if you ask, heâll probably buy a couple new ones, as well.
You do your best to stay still underneath Aventurine, eyes shut tight as you buck your hips up against the wand between your legs. Aventurine looks down smugly at you, mirth glimmering in those beautiful eyes of his. The beneath your stomach had long since turned into a delicious feeling of wholeness and warmth, and you couldnât help but chase after it. Aventurine, for once, cannot bring himself to tease about how desperate you are to cum.
He had amped up the wand to its max intensity, just to make sure you had felt it through your clothes. Not that you hadnât, you were practically pushing your pussy up against it the minute he had brought out the vibrator, doing anything to get yourself off. You feel the pleasure mounting all too quickly, yet chase after it nonetheless. You grab Aventurineâs wrist and whined, legs tensing and closing as if to ward off the vibrator. And like that, the pressure releases, giving way to a blissful feeling, the last of your cramps fading away so⌠easily.
âThat good, huh?â Aventurine chides, a sultry grin plastered on his features as he lowers the intensity of the vibrator, yet still presses it up against your clothed clit to let you ride out your high. You donât respond, basking in the sensation (and the fact that your cramps are gone).
⯠Dr. Ratio
VERITAS may act hesitant when you bring up the idea, but he doesnât say no. Heâs more worried about how he should go about it than anything, and while it isnât unfamiliar territory to him, heâs just⌠unsure of himself. Ultimately, he settles on toys, normally vibes, but dildos will do as well.
It was rather late by the time you had come complaining to him, and he was already behind on grading his studentâs papers. Normally, heâd tell you to give him a couple more minutes to finish up his work and you give him that time, but with how much you're groaning and talking about the pain, heâs quite quick to put his pen down. He adjusts himself and slides open his legs, patting his thigh for you to sit down on, with barely another word.
And of course you sit down, your cramps had been killing you all day and you were desperate to find any way to get rid of them because painkillers just⌠werenât working. You start to weakly grind against his thigh, hands holding yourself up by his strong shoulders. His right arm wraps around your waist and guides you slow rocking movements, fishing through his desk and finding a vibrator wand. He felt a little embarrassed to have kept something so⌠lewd in his desk, but then again, there were moments like this that made him feel a little bit better about keeping it.
He sets it on a lower setting, pressing it against your clit and you grind against his thigh. He watches intently, his gaze soft as he does his best to coax you through it, small, soft praises that no one would expect from Veritas himself. But heâs worried, more than aroused. If this is what helps your cramps, then he doesnât mind, he doesnât even protest. He watches as your face goes from tensed to relaxed, moaning out his name and even small âthank youâs as your heat mounts.
⯠Boothill
You donât even have to ask BOOTHILL, the minute you complain about your cramps, heâs on his knees, tugging at the hem of your pants. He prefers to eat you out on your period, given his skilled tongue. Any âbutâs you had when you first brought the idea up were quickly swept away, heâd eat you out every day of the week during your cycle, or even all day, if you needed it.
Boothill groans against your sex, head buried between your thighs as your hands tug at his hair, a silent praise for just how good he was doing. While he feels quite feverish, his pace is slow and languid, drawing out every little sound of yours he can. The metallic taste on his tongue is just another reward, really. His hands grip your thighs as he presses a series of kisses against your clit, before delving his tongue back into your heat.
Soft sighs escape you as he continues his ministrations, unbothered by the way you squirm every so often or tug at his hair. Heâs drunk off the taste of you, really. He laps up the blood as if it was his last meal, groaning every now and then when he had to take a breath. Sometimes he murmurs something in your flesh, too muffled for you to hear, but the vibrations of his gravelly voice provide an exquisite feeling. If you could do this all day, you would.
Heat curls beneath your stomach as Boothill suckles on your clit, thighs pressing against either side of his face as you grind your hips further into his mouth like he wasnât close enough. Your head spins as you finally let go, letting out a low moan and cumming into his mouth. He licks it all up, letting out a low, guttural sound of approval, his mouth pressed against your folds for a second longer. He withdraws with a gentle kiss pressed to your clit, and a cocky grin sent your way. He quite enjoys the mess.
⯠Gallagher
The minute you brought the idea up, GALLAGHER is down. Heâd do anything you asked him to, from simply fingering you to full on penetration, whatever you want, he does. He wants you to feel better, and by Aeons, heâll do just that. Would period cramps even exist in a dream? Doesnât matter. If he knows itâll help you, heâs on it.
His fingers sink deep within your pussy, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as you roll your hips against his fingers, moaning softly. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles against it. Lewd squelching sounds fill your ears and you desperately chase after his fingers every time the pull back slightly, head leaning back against Gallagherâs shoulder, splayed out in his lap.
âThatâs it,â He coos, his free hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing at your hip. He presses a quick kiss to the crook of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace of his fingers. Heat spreads throughout your body, your eyes rolling back as you surrender to the feeling. âDoesnât that feel better, sweetheart?â
Before you can catch it, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You barely felt it build up, and now youâve cum on Gallagherâs fingers. He lets out a throaty chuckle as you do so, tilting your head and moaning into his ear. With a few more pumps of his rough fingers, he pulls them out slowly, admiring his work. You breathe heavily, doing what you can to catch your breath. Your eyes follow his hand as he brings it up to his mouth, sucking off the rest of your blood and cum from his fingers with a satisfied, sultry look.
⯠Sunday
SUNDAY would feel quite⌠down, knowing that period cramps still exist within Penacony. Knowing you canât even escape them in the Dreamscape, he canât help but wallow a little. But, with that, he will do anything to take away the pain. And when you suggest period sex, heâs practically scrambling for a condom.
Water sloshes around you as Sundayâs hands curl up at your sides, nails digging into flesh. He presses his nose to the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as he bucks his hips up into you. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, his cock buried within you as he does his best to guide you by your hips. He lets out soft groans here and there, evidently enjoying this more than you are.
He does his best to minimize splashing, yet he is eager to please, and to make you feel better. He isnât rough or fast, taking you at a rather languid pace, but with how feverish his groans are, how his hips stutter every now and then, heâs rather close himself. He canât help himself, simply being this close to you has him hard. You roll your head back, moaning against his ear, and he just canât help but cum.
You follow soon after as Sunday peppers kisses against your neck, sloppily at first, but becoming more refined as he shakes off that needy headspace. The pressure in your stomach gives way to blissful heaven then nothingness, the pain that spread to your stomach and legs, gone, just like that. When you turn your head to look at Sunday, he was a gentle smile plastered to his lips, eyelashes fluttering as if he himself had felt your pain go away.
⯠Argenti
ARGENTI does everything that he can for you when you start your period. No questions asked. In fact, heâs the one that brings up the idea of sex. Heâll eat you out as you wish, finger you, or simply fuck you as gently or as hard as you wish. He doesnât mind a mess, he actually quite likes it.
He indulges in his desires so easily when itâs you. When his eyes flutter open, he looks up at you with the utmost devotion, head buried between your thighs as you ride his face. Your moans only spur him on, and when you look behind you, you can see his painfully hard erection that has gone untouched. He planned on delighting you in every single way you asked him to, but insisted on starting with his favorite.
Argenti whimpers against your flesh, too caught up in his own selfish desires as his normally profound and rather elegant tongue-fucking turns feverish and sloppy, as if this was something he had always wanted. It was hard for him to break his normally so composed character, and yet here he was, so messy for his lover above him, he himself was desperate to quell the cramps you had been dealing with. His mouth works at a head-spinning pace for once, licking a fat stripe up your folds, kissing your clit, then practically making out with whatever he could put his mouth on.
Just as you orgasm, he lets out a guttural groan, something that came from deep within his throat, lapping up what he can and more. Yet, when you look behind you, Argentiâs cock is drooling, flushed, with sticky white tendrils coating his abdomen. His face flushes when you notice, but he doesnât hide it. âApologiesâŚâ He mutters against your flesh, giving it another kiss before raising your hips and helping you get off.
âŻSampo Koski
Whatever you need, SAMPO has for you. He prefers to finger you while on your period, but he doesnât mind full on sex, or even using toys. If he canât be there when youâre on your period, heâll make sure you have plenty of toys to keep yourself⌠company.
Sampo groans softly behind you, his leg thrown over yours as you two spoon, his fingers gliding over your folds. He doesnât dare push them in, not yet, anyways. As much as you begged him, he wanted to be as difficult as possible, no matter how much you complained how bad the cramps were getting. Despite that, you were shuddering at any long stroke, the way his pointer and middle finger caged your clit in between them, a satisfied hum coming from his throat.
âMmmâŚâ He moans, grinding against your ass. He still canât help getting himself off, the sounds of your breath hitching and soft moans as you ask him for more, how can he not get off on that? How selfish of him, really, to abate your pleasure in favor for his⌠âFeels good, huh?â
The audacity of this man, itâs as if heâs taunting you. Before you can complain, he finally presses both fingers to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles around it. His grinding borders on desperate as he does so, burying the face in the crook of your neck as his eyebrows furrow. The bastard had came before he even gave you the chance to build up⌠but he doesnât leave you hanging. As if he felt bad that he had teased you. His fingers sink into your heat, thumb pressed against your clit. He pumps them at a leisurely pace, unhurried still. Sampoâs breath is heavy as he comes down from his high, head still spun up in the need to please. Heâll apologize correctly, he swears, after you cum AT LEAST twiceâŚ
⯠Jing Yuan
JING YUAN is actually quite delighted to have any hand in making you feel better. From making sure you have you painkillers and enough snacks, to making sure your need is sated. Heâs quite happy when you ask for sex, and his go to is NORMALLY fingering, but tonight, heâs feeling a little differentâŚ
Warm water runs down your back as you press your lips to Jing Yuanâs shoulder, the scent his cologne filling your senses. After a long day of work, he had proposed a shower with you, but now, it had long been forgotten, his large hands placed on your hips as he rolled his own slowly. His cock is pressed between your thighs, dragging against your folds, the head notching against your clit every few seconds. The push and pull makes your head spin, leaning in to him to keep yourself up.
He had been craving you all day, almost too distracted to finish his work. He didnât know exactly what brought on the sudden bout of clinginess, you were always on his mind, yes, but nothing quite like this. So, when he came home to you, complaining about your cramps, it felt like every aligned, clicked into place. He was quick to comfort you⌠and more.
He chuckles softly above you as your nails dig into his arms, which was quickly replaced with a low, content moan. He leans his head down, picking up the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly, causing you to gasp. Your thighs tense as pressure rises beneath your stomach, Jing Yuan kept up with the steady pace. Slowly, drag after drag, the pressure builds, and then releases as you shudder, pressed up against him. He guides you through your orgasm, his thrusts slow as he allowed you to come down from your high. He held off his own orgasm, pulling away from you with a soft smiler, an even softer gaze.
⯠Blade
BLADE may sound reluctant but heâs quite thrilled with the idea. He doesnât mind fingering you, but he actually quite enjoys giving you head. To have his mouth pressed against you, a towel beneath you, while he works his magic⌠he could ask for nothing more.
Heâs feeling especially ravenous tonight, and has you perched up on the couch, over his face, while he strokes his cock. The other hand holds you by your thigh, letting out low grunts and groans in between sloppy kisses and licks to your pussy. Heâs greedy, but unhurried, making sure to let his contentment be known through lewd noises.
He doesnât say much, as he normally does, simply feasting on whatever he can. Moans escaped him as he continued to stroke himself, hips bucking impatiently. His teeth scrape against your folds every now and then, taking what he wants. He draws out any sounds he can from you, his pace bordering on desperation. His grip tightens on your thigh, watching as you tense every now and then.
Ultimately, your moans become more frequent, Bladeâs sloppy eating getting to you as heat surges through your body, your hands gripping the back of the couch. You look down between your legs and meet Bladeâs gaze, fiery and passionate. You canât help but lose yourself in those eyes, even with such a lewd action. He laps up every drop of your essence, letting out a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to his own cock, desperate to get himself off, as if he was finished. Which, he wasnât, really. It was the first of many orgasms that night, heâd make sure it was.
⯠Luocha
Far be it for LUOCHA to deny you pleasure. Especially when you come to him glassy eyed, hands over your stomach, muttering about how youâd do anything to make the cramps go away. Heâd do anything to see you smiling again. And when your eyes light up at the suggestion, heâs more than happy to go through with it.
You had asked him for help, and by Aeons, Luocha would make sure you would feel better. He cages you in via a mating press, his hair falling around you like a veil. His eyes are closed and eyebrows furrowed as he moans, pressing as deep into you as he can. His voice was groggy and heavy, only to have just woken up. Yet he was lucid enough to lose himself within you.
He leans in and presses a feverish kiss to your lips, his strokes slow and measured, pausing every time his cock was fully seated in you. At this moment he could care less about the blood on his dick, too tired to control his desires and submitting to some sort of primal urge that welled within him. Luocha, so normally controlled, yet still a slave to desire.
It was early morning, you yourself didnât know what time exactly. You had just woken up, and for whatever reason you just couldnât sleep. Unfortunately, your cramps had caught up to you before you could fall asleep, and aside from moaning and groaning in bed, you had woken up Luocha to help, at least not wanting to be alone while it felt like your cramps were eating you alive. He seemed so eager to help, and now that you were beneath him, you understood why.
⯠Dan Heng
DAN HENG is not adverse to the idea at all, the first time you had asked, he was quick to suggest toys. Any time your cycle comes around and you suggest period sex, heâs got a towel at the ready and a vibrator of your choice picked out.
He sits behind you, eyes transfixed on your sex as he presses a wand up to your clit. His hand rests on your thigh as you buck your hips against the toy, whining softly. You do your best to keep quiet, Dan Hengâs lack of noise making you feel slightly awkward. Yet, he spurs you on in his own quiet way, pressing the wand a little harder against your clit.
His fingers trail from your thigh to your hip, now resting his chin on your shoulder. He listens intently to all the little sounds you make, before whispering silent praises to you. You had already cum twice, your cramps a distant thought by now. But you had asked for more, and Dan Heng would deliver, as always.
Before your orgasm can creep up on you, he pulls the vibrator away from you and shuffles out from behind you. You complain, but he urges you to lay down, rifling through one of your drawers for a box of condoms. He looks back at you with a barely noticeable smirk. Something that told you to hush up and waitâŚ
⯠Gepard
While GEPARD is hesitant when the suggestion of period sex is proposed, when you tell him that it could help lessen your cramps, heâs rather eager to get started. He finds that his fingers work best, if you two canât find a condom.
Gepard is quite antsy when you come home, you had texted him that you had had a bad day, and that your cramps were kicking your ass, and he wanted to make it allll better. He had bought you all sorts of treats, flowers, ordered takeout, the list goes on. And when the door opened he had showered you with all sorts of questions, what else he could do to make your day better, how he can help, whatever he could do. One question makes you shake off your bad mood so quickly, though: âDo you want me to get you your vibrator?â
So there you are, sitting across from Gepard, legs open as you press the want to your clit, while he strokes himself slowly. His eyes drop to your folds, his face practically red. He feels⌠perverted, but he just canât help himself. Your soft breaths guiding his arousal, eyes darting nervously between your face and to your pussy, then back to your face.
Eventually, he came prematurely, stuttering over his words and muttering apologies after he does, only to be met with a soft sigh from you. He canât help but watch with rapt fascination, that same flush painting his face continuously. And when you cum, he practically cuddles up to you, peppering kisses across your face and neck, praising you.
⯠Caelus
You donât bring up the idea, CAELUS does. He practically begs before you even get the chance to say youâre down. He goes all in, really, depends on what you are feeling like. You want him to eat you out? Heâs on his knees. Want him to fuck you? All good with him. Heâll use toys as well, if you arenât comfortable with any part of him being in you.
He shudders beneath you as his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, groaning softly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, eyes darting everywhere like he doesnât know exactly what to look at. You prop yourself up by your hands on his chest, head dipped as every thrust makes you forget all about your woes.
He does his best not to cum, simply the sight of you riding him like that, taking what you want, it feels like itâs too much. He always did his best to make your periods tolerable, if you werenât down for sex, heâd grab any snack he could, make sure you had a heating pad, pain killers, and whatever else you wanted. But when you were down for sex, Aeons, he could go all night. Thatâs one perk of housing a stellaron inside of his body.
âF-Fudge, youâre goodâŚâ Caelus groans. You canât help but chuckle softly at the word âfudgeâ, you know exactly whereâ whoâ he picked it up from, and he returns your chuckle in kind. He was never one to take sex seriously, and will never, even when itâs something like⌠fucking your cramps away.
⯠Welt
Who better to take care of you than WELT YANG? He does not mind the mess at all, whichever way you want him to take you, he will do. Heâs on top of everything, the painkillers you need, snacks youâd like, eating pads, the whole thing. And when it comes to you asking him about period sex? He gladly says yes.
âFeeling better?â Welt murmurs against your skin, his fingers sinking into your warm heat. He knew well enough that of course one little movement wouldnât make your cramps go away. But with how reassuring he had been, and even how quick he was to comply with your request for sex. He had set a towel beneath you, and even brought out a myriad of toys to use if you so wished.
Slowly he pumped his fingers inside you, head resting on your shoulder as he watched his own movements. His gentle smile persists as you moan, melting at his touch. His free hand strokes your back, coaxing you through it with soft words as your walls clamp around his fingers. He draws out each motion for you, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with each moan you let out.
Even with his slow movements, you find that your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You press your legs together as if to keep him out, heat curling up beneath your stomach and down your legs. He doesnât stop, simply nudging your legs open with his free hand, curling his fingers and hitting juuust the right spot. You whine and cum over his fingers, grinding your hips against them weakly. He allows you to ride out your high, that placant smile playing on his lips still.
Š sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#dr ratio x reader#boothill x reader#gallagher x reader#sunday x reader#argenti x reader#sampo x reader#jing yuan x reader#blade x reader#luocha x reader#dan heng x reader#gepard x reader#caelus x reader#welt x reader#welt yang x reader#veritas ratio x reader#âşâaeragan
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ok but imagine pv smilk and reader having something going, relationship going steady, freak is onâ˘, people kinda get the hint that this is a committed poly relationship
but! some poor soul makes a pass on the reader (thinking that the relationship is open and they're up for grabs)
you cannot tell me these two mfkers aren't the most possessive ass bitches (pv undercover) when it comes to each other and their partner (i'm hinting at possessive sex bro it would be so good)
pv đ¤ smilk
"that's my boyfriend and my partner and if u look too much im gonna bite."
they live in my mind rent free i need to write an eviction notice- i am so so sorry if this is nonsensical
(additional tags: possessiveness, unhealthy dynamics, beast x ancient
ships: Pure Vanilla Cookie x gender neutral!reader x Shadow Milk Cookie)
Okay so this ask resonated within my soul. I've wanted to write about just how willing Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk are willing to share the one that holds their affections, across many different dynamics (yandere suitors sharing vs. normal poly relationship between three mostly stable individuals, etc.)
But I really, really like the thought of the two of them just closing the relationship after they include you in it. Because I love to see Shadow Milk when he's a snarling, spitting animal and PV needs to be possessive over his belongings friends and family more because I said so and it brings me joy.
I think they both would handle it quite differently, their jealousy. Shadow Milk Cookie is all external force, his hackles raise when he sees another cookie rub their hands over your back when they hug you. Shadow Milk Cookie is insecure desperate and clingy enough to shoot first ask questions later if he feels you're drifting away from him.
You're not, you tell him that when he's curled around you like some type of hissing weasel.
He believes you, but he just wouldn't feel better if he didn't teach that other cookie a little lesson! One should know better than to enroach on his territory.
Shadow Milk Cookie feels nonthreatened only when it's Pure Vanilla Cookie (and his other Beast friends, as he has expressed to the two of you eagerly). He doesn't mind it, loves it even when he finds their scent on you as he wraps himself around you. It's quite comforting.
But a stranger's touch on you feels wrong, like a sin. Shadow Milk Cookie actually gets very antsy until he's at least sniffed out this foolish doughbrain and assure himself that this won't happen twice.
You and Pure Vanilla Cookie have helped a lot on this regard; Shadow Milk's wrath used to mean something serious. Well, relentlessly stalking a cookie and pulling meanspirited "pranks" on them still is quite serious. Baby steps, everyone!
Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, Pure Vanilla Cookie is not nearly as unhinged and unstable as his Beast partner is. In fact, I think it would take a much bigger push to feel like Pure Vanilla had to step in. He's patient, kind, and understanding.
But Pure Vanilla also feels jealousy, like any other cookie.
Pure Vanilla Cookie doesn't puff out his chest and start strutting around like a peacock when someone flirts with you. Actually, he thinks it's quite flattering that his partner is attractive enough for such a positive response!
(But if I just left it at that and didn't find some way to make Pure Vanilla Cookie's hackles rise then we wouldn't be here right now.)
I think the thing that gets Pure Vanilla's eyes to snap open is when someone persists with you. Fair enough, anyone with a partner would feel the need to smile a bit more tightly and wander over to put a comforting hand on yltheir shoulder while making subtle eye contact with the pursuer, it's totally normal!
Just a little sign, y'know? A quick nuzzle to your cheek will do the trick.
Unbeknownst to you - there's the faintest reflection of alitted pupils in Pure Vanilla's eyes when his gaze flits towards your increasingly unwelcome guest. Shadow Milk Cookie has been a really good influence, huh?
I think PV would process this internally, more than anything else. You notice he kind of anxiously prowls around you a little bit more, but he goes back to acting like his merry self a day or two later.
Although, his insecurities ring like a bell through his souljam, which Shadow Milk Cookie can feel. They're both watching you much more often than you would think.
And isn't that so sweet? So romantic? You have not one, but two ultra powerful cookies with stable emotions watching your every move, making extra sure that you're safe and sound in their arms, and their arms only! You're in good hands, here.
#cookie run kingdom#crk#crk x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#beast x ancient#pure vanilla cookie x reader#shadow milk cookie x reader#asks#anon#anon im so sorry i only saw the âsexâ part after i finished typing all this. send me another ask i'll make a part 2 â¨â¨â¨#cookie run kingdom smut#crk smut#crk x reader smut
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¡Ëđ ŕźâ¡ PURELY RELAXATION PURPOSES: Explained đź âË
to reach pure consciousness, letâs take the weight off your shoulders
so in my recent recent success post, i explained that the second time this week when i induced i went in purely for relaxation purposes, i also tell people this a lot in dms when i feel that they are putting the state of pure consciousness on too much of a pedestal. I did make a post about this a year ago but i feel as if im more well versed on this type of thing.
So with any method you are trying to use, whether it be a ten step lucid dream type of thing or a simple âI AMâ meditation, it would be much easier if you just removed the intention of manifesting your desires. Tell yourself youâre just inducing for relaxation purposes. Because you are, you have your dream life, there is nothing to do creation is finished, you donât need to induce for your desires because you already have them you already have them, no need to be afraid of failing when itâs already yours.
So what youâre going to tell yourself is that your dream life doesnât ride on the inducing of pure consciousness because you already have your life. You would hire cleaners for a house that is squeaky clean, would you? So youâre only inducing for relaxation, to âconnect with your god selfâ or something along those meditative, spiritual lines.
and how does that work in your brain?
you know you already have your desires â you donât need to anything for them, even inducing pure consciousness â so youâre just going for spiritual purposes or to relax â the state of pure consciousness immediately comes off this pedestal because you donât NEED it anymore (it's like those manipulative boys who stop being obsessed with a girl when they finally make them their girlfriend because they love the âchaseâ more) if you donât NEED it, it takes it off that high pedestal â your desires arenât riding on this âtrip to the voidâ because you already have them â allows a weight to be lifted off your shoulders â you can finally relax instead of forcing and you can finally properly let go!! â youâll induce pure consciousness in no time
i really would recommend watching this video and this video, also this one and this one too, and definitely looking at the comments, because they arenât filled with shifting obsessed people who are SO desperate for a shift (no offence lol). The poster and the comments are filled with normal people who treat the void state for what it is: a form of relaxing meditation. They talk about their void experiences with emotion yet donât sound so desperate, theyâre so casual about it. Thatâs what you need.
The videos also only explain the void state and how they get in. Thatâs it. no other stuff. Because you donât need anything but an explanation and a method.
Thatâs the type of energy you need to be around. Itâs not something super powerful or cool, that is you the void state is a state of pure awareness. Itâs just a cool meditation you can do sometimes.
No more manifestation purposes, what are you manifesting? TRICK QUESTION BITCH, itâs NOTHING because there is NOTHING YOU NEED. TO DO. NOTHING. Youâre just inducing for relaxation or to âtap in with your inner selfâ YOU CANT MANIFEST SOMETHING YOU ALREADY HAVE.
Treat your desires like legs, yes i know it sounds weird. But im assuming you all have legs, so when you think about all you want to manifest in this state of void legs are probably the last thing you think about, why? because you already have them, itâs already yours so thereâs nothing to do. Are you watch âSUPER STRONG: ⨠legs subliminal â¨â no because you already have them.
So make the comparison, âiâm not tweaking over having legs because i have them and theyâre natural to me
THEREFORE
iâm not tweaking over my dream life because i have it already and itâs natural for meâ
itâs not possible that you donât get what you want. Think of yourself as the spoiled little princess and your subconscious mind being the well-off dad who never tells her no. Itâs not possible for you not to get what you want. So why are inducing for a life you already have.
youâre just going in there to relax, remember, purely relaxation purposesâŚnothing elseâŚ.
đĽ¸Ëâ take the void state of that pedestal and prioritise relaxation ¡Ëđ ŕźâ¡

#relax bitch#no like seriously#salemlunaa#shiftblr#reality shifting#void state#shifting#loa#permashifting#law of assumption#success story#the void#void concept#pure consciousness#shifting consciousness#shifting awareness#void#void state tips#the void state#voidstate#i am state#god state#respawning#4d reality#desired reality#desired life
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sweet 'n easy



Art thought dating you would be enough. He's content to have your heart, wait until marriage to have your body, too. But it's proving really difficult when you look like that.
tags: art donaldson x fem! reader, open relationship, guided masterbation, reader's kind of messy in this one (corruption), religious themes/corruption of religious themes. nsfw. minors DNI.
a/n: this is part of what im referring to as the open relationship au and im more than expecting to write more about this dynamic! im also very open to suggestions about it
Art Donaldson is a Good Christian Boy. He's a good, smart young man. He wears his thin silver purity ring on his left ring finger. He wears a delicate silver cross on a chain around his neck. He used to sing in the church choir, and now he spends his Sundays volunteering with the children's sector and frequenting church picnics. If it wasn't for tennis, he'd probably be a priest.
You're not right for him, and he knows it. Guys like him aren't made to marry girls like you - girls with low-cut tops that show off the top hem of your lacy electric purple bra. Girls who wear low, low-cut jeans with your matching purple thong hanging out the back. Girls with butterfly-shaped tattoos hovering on your lower back. Girls who spend weekends drinking and clubbing and dancing with absolutely no room for Jesus.
But there's just something about you. Maybe it's your attitude, the way your hand flies up in class whenever you know the answer to a question, the way you speak, with such clarity, such conviction. Maybe it's the way you walk with your friends across campus, beautiful and assertive, a pack of wild hounds. You're terrifying to him. A force of nature, a thunderstorm. Art's managed to get caught up in your jet stream, but it doesn't mean he's any less scared of falling out. You and all your hot, brash, party-girl friends. You and the 'bitch pack', as some of his friends have taken to calling you and yours. The sorority girl, frat party, dim clubs, bitch pack. Girls like you don't give guys like him the time of day: you're too pretty, too powerful, far too high up on an entirely different social ladder.
But you're different. You're sweet. He's watched you stop to pet stray kittens. He's seen you volunteering to donate blood at the campus blood drives. He's seen you stop to help a girl pick up her books even though you were already late to class. He's seen your notes in his biology lecture, your cute, bubbled handwriting and your array of gel pens. He's seen you buy an extra coffee at the campus cafe for a friend. People contain multitudes, or whatever, right?
So maybe it's no surprise when you end up paired up on an assignment and you bring him back to your dorm room. Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by the boy band posters and the stacks of fantasy novels and the stuffed bear sitting on your bed. Maybe he shouldn't have been thrown off by your framed pictures - family, friends - and your collection of Beatles CDs. Just a girl. A normal, nice girl. Who lays out all her notes for him, glances up with a sweet smile, and asks,
"Where d'you wanna start?"
He didn't mean for it to go any further than that. For the study visits to start happening at night, after dinner. For you to start blowing off club nights to curl up on your plush blue shag carpet next to art, pointing out lines of text and highlighting things with a bright pink marker. For you to start eating with him at lunch, talking about your lecture, laughing over some stupid thing your professor said or did. For him to start seeing you, really seeing you, and liking that you saw him, too. It happened before he even registered it. Somewhere, somehow, Art Donaldson fell in love.
It's different than how he felt with Tashi. This isn't that painful, all-consuming desire to please, to have her notice him, the obsession with the idea of her and her tennis. This feels sweeter, kinder. This feels like what he used to read about: fireworks in his heartbeat, butterflies in his stomach, the giddy thrill of First Love. A slower, ennobling sort of love.
If he had it his way, he'd date you. Flowers. Expensive dinners by candlelight. Picnics. The works. Court you for the four years you were at Stanford together, then propose once you graduated. Spend a few years engaged so he could do his tennis, make a good amount of his own money. Save until he could plan a dream wedding. Honeymoon somewhere pretty and exotic, like Bali or Punta Cana. Then the country house and the kids, the white picket fence. Except, Art doesn't really ever get things his way, does he?
"I... I don't know," you say slowly, digging your heels into your carpet. You can't meet his sad blue eyes. You can't bear to. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. It feels alien, even in your head.
He stares at you, crestfallen. Your heart plummets and you race for an explanation, for some way to explain this without blaming him. Because it's not Art at fault, it's his Faith.
"It's not that I don't like you!" you scramble. "I do, really, Art, I do. I just... a girl has... needs, you know? There are things I'd want that I can't ask you to give me. Things I can't take from you."
You both know what it is. You'd never ask him to give up on or waver in his faith for you. Never. You like Art how he is. But you know you'd be wanting. You know you can't wait until your wedding night.
"I... I'm just not the dating type, Art," you explain mournfully. "And you don't want to date a girl like me, anyway, trust me. You deserve someone nice."
"But... you are nice," Art says, and he really does look like you've just torn his heart out and stomped on it. It's horrible. It's awful. And you feel like a monster for doing it, but what can you do?
He doesn't have a solution until a full week later. He pretends (to you, and himself) that he came up with it all on his own, when in reality it was Patrick's idea. Patrick's suggestion, murmured over the phone in cloying low tones, luring him in like sailor to siren, bee to honey, moth to flame. Art, for all his cleverness, for all his ability to read Patrick like a book, could not see it. He trusted Patrick. He should have, he's sent Patrick some of your pictures, talked about you endlessly. But Patrick was on tour, far, far away, where he could do no harm. And Patrick was taken, as he was so keen to remind Art all the time.
"She doesn't have to fuck you, man," Patrick muses. "Date her. Be her good boy, be her fuckin' sweetheart. She can get dicked down with someone else."
"You're suggesting my girlfriend cheat on me?" Art laughs, and even saying it, my girlfriend, even in hypothetical, makes his heart do a flip.
He can practically picture Patrick's face, screwed up with a mixture of pity and disdain. Poor Art. "Nah, man. I'm suggesting an open relationship, you know? Let her fuck who she wants, she's gonna come home to you."
The conviction in Patrick's voice makes Art's heart somersault. Because there's something about that idea that makes his pulse quicken. Patrick's right. You'll come home to him, your heart - the thing that really matters - will be his. He doesn't like the possessive thing that curls up in his chest and purrs at the idea. But he doesn't fight it.
"What if you didn't have to wait with me?" Art asks.
He's twirling a highlighter over his fingers. Cross-legged on your plush duvet, working at a piece of spearmint chewing gum. Gum you'd offered him, gum that you now kept a small stash of in your desk drawer for evenings just like this. The project you'd been paired up on was long over, the proud 96% sitting in your Stanford grading inbox. Now you're just regular homework buddies. Art sought you out for homework he missed because he was at practice and lecture notes he didn't get. You don't mind. You enjoy it, actually. You just wish you could give him more. Hate that you couldn't be what he deserved. It almost feels like leading him on, when he sits with you until the wee hours, sharing diagrams and passing your textbook back and forth. When he brings you your morning coffee before class, or you bring sandwiches and Gatorade to his practices.
Except now, apparently, he has a solution.
"What?" you ask, blinking at him. "What d'you mean?"
Art flushes. Soft pink. Mostly around the ears, you've noticed, red against the gentle gold of his curls. Evening rose.
"I mean, what if..." he looks away. "You know. You went out with me. Dated me. But you could... 'hook up' with other people when you needed to."
You stare at him. Dumbfounded. Art Donaldson. Is sitting on your bed, asking you for an open relationship? Are you dreaming? Has the world suddenly gone mad? Did you go to bed last night and wake up in an alternate dimesion?
"You... are you suggesting... what I think you're suggesting?" you ask faintly.
He nods, ears burning a truly impressive shade of crimson. You suppose you should be flattered, really, the lengths he's going to date you. Most guys would have given up by now, egos bruised, feelings hurt, hearts shattered. And with most guys, you would have been firmer, clearer, colder. Meaner. But Art isn't most guys. Art is sweet.
"I-- shit, Art, wouldn't you rather just date some other girl like you?" you say helplessly.
"I don't want another girl, I want you," he replies plainly. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like there's no other answer.
And that's all it takes for you to agree. It's impossible to say no to those baby doll eyes. The two of you set ground rules - you don't tell him who or where or how, just that it happened. He doesn't ask you any questions. No one leaves you any marks. Immediate friends, such as Art's tennis circle and his church friends, are off limits. And that's that. He's your boyfriend now.
Art thought it would suffice. He likes being with you. Holding your hand while you walk to class. Seeing you in the stands when he plays a match. Chaste little pecks here and there. But you're like a pit of quicksand, a hurricane. You draw him in quicker than he thought possible, and now he can't breathe, can't think, can't move. The corruption is slow, certain, and inescapable.
He starts to find himself wanting more.
A kiss in his dorm room that deepens instead of stops, one hand cupping your jaw, the other floating to rest on the small of your back, above the waist of your low jeans, on the warm, bare skin there. A glance that feels more than affectionate, his eyes roving over your collarbone, the glint of your skin in the sun, the line of your bra beneath your sheer, tight shirt. He sees you smile at another guy and a hot flash of jealousy surges through him as he wonders if this is one of the guys you're fucking, if that guy, that random piece of shit, gets to touch you, see you, feel you. He tamps it down, and it feels too little, too late.
You'd be a fool not to notice. Stupid, not to feel the press of his hard-on when he hugs you from behind. Not to sense the shift in the way he kisses you, tongue slipping past your lips, hands sliding down further than they usually do. He plays it off, always. An accident. The heat of the moment. But you know. And because you're weak, because you're a terrible person, because ruining Art Donaldson is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to you, you let him.
"Art, do you ever touch yourself?"
He falls off his chair in his hurry to spin around and look at you. From the floor of your dorm, he stares with wide blue eyes and pink cheeks. "Wha--"
You shrug. "You know. Do you ever..." you make a crude gesture with your hand, and he buries his face up to his nose in his collar.
"No," he says, muffled into his tee shirt. "It's sinful."
It takes every fibre of your being not to laugh. He's so precious, so pure, sometimes you wonder why a guy like him could ever be interested in you at all. Your looks are one thing - you know you're hot. But Art likes you. He likes you even when he can't fuck you. He liked you even when you told him you wouldn't date him. He likes you because you're you. Which makes you feel a little shitty about what you do next, but you can't help it.
"So, what, when you're hard, what do you do?" you press casually. "Send up a Hail Mary and wait?"
Art's ears, which peek out over his shirt collar, are so red they could have been on fire. He shakes his head, a little frantically. He flushes easily, you notice, blood flowing quickly whenever he's even mildly embarrassed. It conjures images of his cock, whatever it might look like, red and aching with need. And you feel a lot less bad, the mental image of Art's dick fuelling the way you lean over, sliding off your chair to join him on the floor. You kneel, hands resting on your knees, and you know he's getting an eyeful of your tits. You keep your eyes on his face.
"Show me," you murmur. "I won't touch you. I won't even touch myself. I just wanna see."
He stares at you like you've asked him for his social security number and all his credit card info. Which, honestly, he probably would have given up a little easier. And you're an awful person, because you know the effect you've had on him, especially these days, you know that Art will probably do anything you ask of him, just for the pleasure of pleasing you.
"Please?" you wheedle, cocking your head to one side lightly, staring up at him through your lashes.
And, really, how could he say no to that?
"I-- okay," he says, and he tries to pretend like he's relenting a lot more than he actually is. Pretends like he's doing you a huge favour, as if his cock isn't straining at the mere idea.
Art doesn't jerk off often. He's only ever used his hand once - the single time Patrick showed him. After that, he'd cried in the bathroom and washed his hands so many times he got a contact allergy. But he's figured out an alternative. One that doesn't involve him touching himself at all. So he slides off his sweats, all too aware of your steady eyes on him. You look at him like you've never seen legs before, as if you haven't seen him at a thousand practices. You look at him like you want to eat him.
He tries to tell himself that's not what's making his cock throb in his boxers. He keeps those on, more for his sake than yours.
"You can lie on my bed," you offer innocently.
Art almost moans. Because it's your bed. Because it's yours, and when he lies down it's almost like lying with you. When he buries his face in the pillow, he can smell you, your vanilla and roses body wash, and, beneath it, the gentle smell of you. It's your sheets he starts to cant into, hips rolling in a familiar motion as he starts to work away the desperate pressure in his cock. It's your pillow he bites in a futile attempt to muffle his moans. And when he looks up, eyes half-lidded, he can see you watching him. You're biting your lip, looking flustered, and it's the cutest he's ever seen you, and he moans your name without meaning you.
You keep your promise, hands folded neatly in you lap as you watch Art rut into your bed like a wild animal, like he's in fucking heat, like your sheets are a person and he's fucking it. Like your sheets are you, you realise, as his eyes meet yours and he whines your name. He's pretending he's fucking you. It's hard not to give up and shove one hand into your panties, but for his sake, you try. Art's moans are almost musical, and with a sharp slap of embarrassment, you're reminded of the sounds he makes when he hits the ball at practice. The same whining grunts of exertion, except now they're fuelled by pleasure, spurred on by the desperate grind of his hips into your sheets, not a fucking tennis ball.
"Oh, oh, fuck," Art's voice gets a little higher. "Oh, fuck, it's so good--"
You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you shift slightly. His movements grow a little more erratic, hands balling up into white-knuckled fists into the soft fabric of your sheets. You drink it all in while you can - his ears are red, his cheeks are pink. You follow the curve of his ass in his boxers. You stare at the muscles in his thighs. The bones of his hips.
Art gets breathy when he's about to cum. Breathy, very whiny, almost crying if you're being honest. You file that information away for later.
"Please, please, can I?" he gasps, staring up at you with pupils blown wide with lust. "Can I cum, please, fuck, need it, need it-- you-- fuck, please?"
It's surprising he can even string together a full sentence. "Of course, baby," you murmur, already resolved to not changing your sheets until after you've cum in them too.
Another nugget of information: Art favours a deep grind when he cums, like he's looking for a place to put it, to bury it, looking to breed, to mark, to keep. The sight of him pushing his hips as far into your mattress as he can before he cums, a cry of your name and a shuddering breath slipping from his lips, will probably fuel your nighttime ventures for the next few weeks. You'll use it when you find your next hook up, it'll probably send you right over the edge.
You don't know when you started thinking of Art while you fucked other guys. You just know that now, it's tricky to get off without it. It's hard enough biting your tongue so you avoid saying his name. Now, you'll have the image of his face when he cums locked in your brain forever.
"Shit," Art curses, still breathless, sitting up to examine the sticky mess soaking from the front of his gingham boxers, all the way into your sheets. "Sorry."
You just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. That was... really hot. That's actually how you get yourself off?"
He nods, embarrassed. When he shuffles off to shower, borrowing your shower caddy and a towel, you wait until your door click, and then you practically rip open your nightstand. It takes less than ten minutes with a vibrator and the memory of Art's voice moaning your name for you to add your cum to his. You imagine his hips fucking into you, not your sheets. You imagine pulling his stupid fucking purity ring off and wearing it like some fucked-up engagement ring. His hands are so big, you'd probably have to wear it on your thumb. His hands. You imagine them grabbing you, holding you, sliding up your skin. You wonder what it would be like to have him revere you, not his God. Worship you. You want him to, you think. The idea of him shattering every promise he's ever made, just to be inside you? It sends you over the edge with a muffled cry of his name.
It's that feeling, that messy need for him, that drives you to that frat party. You told him, obviously, and while he seemed sort of put-off when you mentioned you were probably going to sleep with someone, he told you it was okay. Told you to be safe.
You wish you could tell him, but you're worried it'll scare him off. Don't worry, Art, every guy I fuck, I pretend he's you. And now I'll have the knowledge of exactly what you look and sound like when you cum to help me out! Not exactly girlfriend material.
Still, you're thinking of Art when your eyes land on a boy playing beer pong. He's tall, all messy black curls and tanned skin. Handsome, too, if you're being honest, in a messy, frat boy-y kind of way. Hook up hot. You're thinking of Art when he waves you over, holding up a beer like it's a peace offering. You're thinking of Art when you give him your name and ask for his.
"Patrick," he tells you easily. "Patrick Zweig."
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x fem reader#challengers smut#art donaldson smut#kit.writes#open relationship au
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took a bunch of clothes to my mom's to wash them since my washing machine is still down and she said 'ill do it dw about it' and threw my favourite white top in with the colours. i no longer have a favourite white top :)
#and i cant even be mad at her because her husband is dead#lol and lmao#anyway the top is now the ugliest greyish minty colour and it looks horrible#normally i wouldnt mind. like there were two white tops and the other also got dyed and idc#but this one had a more unique idc shape? whatever you call that. and it was one of the very few crop tops#that really made me feel good about my body. like not even 'ok i guess i dont look like something that crawled out of a garbage bin'#but genuinely 'good'#and it feels so stupid to be this upset over such a small thing but i feel like ive been at the very limit for the last few days#with everyone fucking crying around me#that this genuinely feels like a tragedy to me rn lol#anyway im being nice and i keep saying its no big deal and nvm but ig you can see that im upset#so now SHE'S mad that I'M mad even tho im not even being a bitch about it im just Sad lol#kms#anyway i feel like shit and it all feels so overwhelming and to think that ill have to spend the long weekend in may here too#my dad and his gf will be at my place in wrocĹaw going to concerts cause there's some sort of festival#all my friends will be chilling and having fun#and i cant even go to prague or vice versa because ill have to be here. having the time of my life with my mother and my grandpa#losing my mind and getting panick attacks in the bathroom lol
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CHAOS [3] â
âł lando norris + singer!piastri!reader
â :: masterlist
â :: a/n: look whats here!! pt threeeee !! sorry for the long wait also this is legit just crack istg đđ
â :: pt1 ;; a bet not so bad ,, pt2 ;; sports car ,,

â
â
â
â
ynofficial



liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, gracieabrams, charles_leclerc, and 4, 986, 498 others
ynofficial the final single off the album !! king of my heart welcome to the worldddd
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user1 oh. my. god.
user2 LIVES WERE CHANGED
user3 i'll never be okay again
user6 that mv is actually insane
user4 lanyn is my roman empire
user5 how did oscar feel about this
ynofficial shhh
user7 lando featuring in this is actually not okay why is he why why why omg im malfunctioning
landonorris hehehehe
oscarpiastri nonononono its a PROFESSIONAL relationship PURELY FAKE FOR THE MUSIC VIDEO
landonorris of course
user8 them being a couple in this has healed parts of my i didnt know existed
â
ynofficial



liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 5, 642, 823 others
ynofficial this is who is the star of the king of my heart mv btw
tagged: landonorris
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landonorris ok then i see how it is...
ynofficial dont you dare lando
landonorris too lateeee
user1 your honour never take them away from me i promise i can be normal
user2 oh look at my boy
ynofficial MY boy excuse me
user3 give me 10000 posts like this
landonorris on it
â
landonorris






liked by oscarpiastri, ynofficial, and 7, 842, 963 others
landonorris payback
tagged: ynofficial
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ynofficial BITCH WHERED U GET THESE??? THEY'RE SO OLD WTF???
landonorris payback i told you
user1 i aspire to have this level of chaoticness
user2 CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE SECOND PIC YN????
user4 NO CAN SHE EXPLAIN THE THIRD????
user3 lando doesn't mess around clearly
user4 no cause im cackling
user5 lanyn is actually perfect
oscarpiastri saving these photos for later...
ynofficial NO
oscarpiastri too late
â
oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, charles_leclerc, and 3, 754, 689 others
oscarpiastri look at these two idiots.
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user1 oscar join the lanyn shippers pls
user2 PLEASE OSCAR
user3 give me details
landonorris things happened
user4 i need some more gossip about lanyn actually
user5 can we have lanyn's king of my heart era pls!!!
â
â
f1gossippofficial has posted
f1unofficial has posted
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đ . ⎠đˇď¸ tags .á Öš â ęą
@arqbella, @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt, @stilesks, @prudyhoo, @cherry-piee,
@aeplandos, @kodeelynn, @ellelabelle, @widow-cevans, @freyathehuntress
@landossainz, @screamingwines,
[ if you would like to be added or removed let me know! ]
2025 Š thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works
â comments and reblogs appreciated
#â my works .á â#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris blurb#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando x reader#f1#mclaren#f1 fanfic#f1 x y/n#lando x you#lando x y/n#ln x reader#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#formula 1#f1 smau#smau#oscar piastri#lando norris smau#lando norris x fem!reader
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NSFW streamer!ellie x reader HCs
CW; sub!ellie, dom!reader, bratty!ellie, mama/mommy kink, cunnlingings, public sex (kinda??), having sex on stream, teasing, humiliation, hand-feeding food, domestic dominance, cockwarming.
A/N; this is an AU where twitch TOS does not apply because if it did she would be banned in an instant.
ââââââââââ
⢠she's the most submissive bitch on the planet. this girl does not have ONE dominant bone in her body.
⢠she's more of a whimper and whiner than a moaner. and god are her whines and whimpers so pathetic.
⢠she doesn't just whine in the bedroom, she whines playing video games and you love to tease her for it.
⢠"y/nnn, please stop stealing my loot, loot goblin."
⢠"sound so pretty when you whine and use your manners."
⢠she would splutter and go red with embarrassment.
⢠"don't be gay on stream."
⢠"why? scared to show everyone how much you like me speaking to you like that?"
⢠"stoppp."
⢠it's adorable.
⢠she makes soo many "cum" and "im gonna touch you" jokes on stream. you would think she's a 12yr old boy with the humour she has.
⢠you love to secretly eat her out on stream. its one of your favourite funishments to give her, or sometimes she'll beg for you to. she loves the risk of being caught.
⢠you never make it easy for her. you always curl your fingers deeper and flick your tongue faster when she tries talking. sometimes she lets out a choked moan but covers it up with a cough.
⢠whenever she's close to cumming, she quickly turns her camera and mic off. she's tried to be subtle about her orgasming on stream, but she's not very good at it.
⢠she calls you mama/mommy on stream whenever she's feeling extra subby.
⢠you like to make your dominance over ellie clear. even if its just domestic dominance.
⢠normally, ellie forgets to eat and drink on stream so you'll come up behind her and grip her chin, forcing her to look up at you. it's an awkward angle but you don't care.
⢠"have you ate or drank anything?"
⢠ellie gulps, glancing down at her camera. "um, i mean, maybe?"
⢠your grip would tighten. "simple yes or no question, els."
⢠"no..."
⢠she hates seeing the disappointment in your eyes at those words. you always bring her some water and fruit after that. if she doesn't finish her glass of water or food in the next 15 minutes, you sit next to her and hand-feed it.
⢠it embarrasses and humiliates her that her viewers are watching you hand-feed her like a baby, but it's what she gets for not eating. she's gotta learn one way or another.
⢠she loves to have you cockwarm her when she has long stream sessions. it always brings out her bratty side though. she'll thrust her hips into you without permission, and it always pulls a surprised moan out of you.
⢠you scowl her for it, promising that she'll regret it later.
⢠there's a blanket wrapped around you both to shield your lower body from your viewers.
ââââââââââ
i just tag everyone that commented an interest abt the fic :3
@ellseasp @yalaysbee @smelliewilliams @stonerzdaze420
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie x you#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#melposts
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Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.
Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.
Sorry this turned out so long đ I can't get him out of my head!
I LOVE what you wrote đđ I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)
Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.
Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)
Not proofread
Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.
He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.
After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.
Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.
Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.
Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.
Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.
After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.
He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.
Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.
Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.
Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done
A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon
#mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing x reader#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#captain curly#i love him so much you guys dont understand id sell my nephew for him#AND my nieces
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Please Donât Think Iâm Insecure â âš.đĽ Ý Ë
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader



You navigate your relationship with Rafe, but you can never escape that green-eyed monster.
Wc: 2,100
Angst, bit of comfort at the end?
An: First, sorry to the brunette girls, but im kinda projecting rn. BUT YAYYYY I WROTE ABOUT RAFE FOR THE FIRST TIME! I randomly got a burst of writing energy while listening to ethel cain (this has nothing to do w any of her songs, at least not purposefully if it somehow relates idk)
Feedback ALWAYS appreciated my loves!! xxx
You couldnât help but feel envious of the brunette girls of the Outer Banks.
You found that they carry a different type of beauty, one that you couldnât compare to.
Every time you glance and see your darling boyfriend, Rafe, being hounded by these girls, you swear you feel a piece of your soul being ripped from your body.
You and Rafeâs relationship wasnât always smooth sailing. In fact, the two of you had broken up before, when he chose his drugs over you.
Every party, youâd see him snort lines, roll his blunts, and nearly drown himself in all sorts of liquor.
It killed you to leave him, but you remembered exactly why you decided to put the ultimatum on the table when he called you a âcontrolling, insecure bitch.â
You had never packed your bags faster.
You would stalk Topper and Kelce on instagram for months, just so you could search every background of every photo for the boy you were in love with.
You occasionally saw Rafe around the island, sometimes youâd stare a second too long, and heâd catch your wandering eyes. You never held eye contact, so you never saw how heâd frown at you. He wished he could read your mind, just to see if you think about him, like how he thinks about you.
You briefly remembered looking at your bedside table clock, after being abruptly awoken by thunks, on your window.
It was 2:33 in the morning.
At first, you ignored it, thinking it was just the rain picking up. But the thunk, thunk, thunk only continued, getting harder each time.
You slowly approached your window, knowing that if needed, you could easily run to your dad, and have him pull out his gun to deal with whatever was plaguing your slumber.
You quickly yanked your curtains open and slid the creaky window open. You really needed to have your parents deal with that.
You immediately looked down and saw none other than Rafe Cameron himself.
He was soaked to the bone, crouching in the grass, you assumed he was looking for more things to throw.
âRafe..?â You whisper-shouted down at him.
He looked up at you like a deer in headlights, this allowed you to notice his blistering red face, and his semi-glossy eyes.
This was the first time that you saw his freshly buzzed hair in person, rather than from a distance.
You wouldâve been lying if you said he didnât look devilishly handsome.
âJeez peachâŚ.You really are a heavy sleeper.â Rafe said with a watery chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
He hoped you didnât notice the sadness in his voice, and if you did he at least hoped you wouldnât mention it.
âGod, Rafe, why didnât you just come to the front door like a normal person.â You sighed, and with that, you closed the window and curtains.
Rafeâs eyes widened, his breath picked up, and he felt his stomach drop.
He rubbed at his eyes angrily, wiping away his salty tears.
He was too busy in his head, going over how âstupid and idioticâ he felt for thinking youâd even consider taking him back after what he put you through a year prior, to notice you walking up to him.
âRafeâŚHun, please come insideâŚYouâre going to get sick at this rate.â You muttered, rubbing your hand on his shoulder to provide an ounce of comfort.
You heard him gasp softly, but he refused to look into your eyes, that makes you frown.
You were outside in the pouring rain, in a robe and slippers, coaxing him into your house, and he couldn't even look you in the eyes?
You knew it wasn't right to feel this way, you thought it was that grudge that you held for what he did to you deep down.
Your mind was reeling, thoughts flying around like a flock of birds in the wind.
You didnât know how to feel, seeing your ex-boyfriend, who hurt you so badly, outside of your house with tears in his eyes.
His tears.
His tears make you think of all the times heâd come over to your house, after seeking solace away from his father, whoâd decided to pick another argument with the boy.
He would lay his head in your lap as you played with his long, silky brown strands of hair.
You would wipe his tears every single time he needed you.
It was always you who was there for him.
It was always you whoâd understood him the most out of anyone on the damn island, hell, out of anyone on the entire planet.
You couldnât help but think about all the times heâd lash out on you, while youâre going to retrieve a towel for him, and a fresh pair of his old clothes from your drawer. You had never given them back, you wanted a piece of your old, sweet Rafe, since it felt like that part of him had vanished.
You came back and saw him standing idly near the front door, lingering, you could tell he was too nervous to sit without permission, not wanting to overstep.
You hand him the clothes, he immediately recognizes his old âKildare Athleticsâ shirt, but of course, he decides not to mention it.
He had begun to strip in front of you, you quickly turned around, muttering a âJesus ChristâŚâ to yourself.
You heard rustling, then eventually heard a soft, âDoneâ escape from Rafeâs cracked lips.
You sat him on the couch, while you put his wet clothes in the bathroom; that was a task to deal with another day.
You couldnât bring yourself to sit next to him, not trusting your sleepy judgment to keep you from babying him like you want to, like you used to.
You broke the silence by whispering, âWhy are you here, Rafe? Itâs so lateâŚâ
âGod, itâs so weird to hear you call me by my name, normally it was always âbaby,â or âpuddinâ.â
âPlease Rafe, Iâm not in the mood.â You exclaimed softly, your resolve slowly breaking down.
Rafe toyed with the gold signet ring on his finger, deciding what to say.
âI miss you peachâŚnothingâs the same without you. And I know..Before you say anything, I know I fucked up. I think about that everyday. I have since that dayâŚâ He paused, trying to find his words.
You looked at him, your eyes beckoning him to continue.
He noticed a glint in your eye, almost looking like hope, and it made him break down.
âI didnât think Iâd get this far..Uhm, give me a second please..â He was embarrassed, you could tell.
âI donât get it Rafe, I thought you loved meâŚHow could you do that to us..?â You choked on your words, feeling the tears start to build.
Rafe shot up at this, âI do!â He exclaimed, immediately regretting it when he remembered that your parents were just upstairs.
Your cat, Daphne, crawled into his lap, being startled awake by his yell.
He scratched behind her ears and continued, âOf course I do. I always did. I know I didnât make it obvious, and I barely showed it, but I promise I did. Seeing you walk out that door made me realize just how much I love you.â
âI still donât understandâŚâ You murmur as you pick at the sleeve of your fluffy, cloud-like robe.
âIâŚ.I got scared, baby. Things between us were getting so..Real, I guess. I found myself thinking about you every second of the day, wondering where you were, thinking about who you were with, if that idiot JJ was still flirting with you like he used to..â Rafe gulps.
âIâve never felt like this about anyone, so when it kept growing, I panicked, and ran. I turned to coke, and booze to try and gather myself. I felt pathetic, knowing that my day revolved on how yours went.â
Rafeâs shoulders shook, and you grabbed his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his, gripping him tightly.
That night, you told Rafe how you felt, then, and when the two of you were together. The conversation was hard on both of you, but by the time the sun was about to rise, you decided to give him another chance. Telling him how you wanted to take it slow at first, to make sure that you wouldnât get hurt again.
Rafe flinched at this, feeling disgusted, knowing that he had made you build your walls up again.
Which brings you to today, you had gone off to find a water bottle somewhere in the crowded house.
When you finally were able to locate a few, and you walked back outside.
Thatâs when you saw it.
Rafe was talking to her.
Sofia.
It was no surprise to everyone that the two had dated months prior to you and Rafe getting back together.
They were the talk of the island, of course you had heard.
But they werenât together anymore, Rafe came back to you.
So why do you still feel those anxious butterflies in your stomach? They feel like moths, flying around recklessly inside you.
You feel like youâre on the brink of vomiting.
A part of you wondered if he still wanted her,
If he got back together with you, then there was a possibility of him wanting to get back together with another one of his exes.
You want to confront the problem head-on, really! But the thought of doing so makes your legs feel like jelly in your flip-flops.
You turn around, quickly walking back inside the crowded house, searching every corner for a place to find a moment of quiet.
After hearing three different couples doing things they probably shouldnât in a bedroom that wasnât theirs, you found a small hall closet.
It felt weird, sitting in a somewhat cramped closet, begging for everyone and everything to just go away.
Youâre sitting in the dark when you see a flash that lights up the closet: itâs your phone.
You look at it, the blaring sight of a text from âMy Baby! đâ.
You ponder for a moment, then decide to ignore it.
You hate feeling like this, feeling like you can be so easily replaced by someone you know is prettier than you.
Sofia was perfect; she was loved by all of the older folk at the country club. She carried herself with nothing but confidence. You wish you could feel the same.
Suddenly, your shorts start to feel like theyâre two sizes too small, and your shirt shrinks by the second.
You wanted to be perfect.
Why couldnât you be perfect?
Did you want it for yourself? Or do you want it for Rafe.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear shouts throughout the hallway.
You glance at your phone and notice that over half an hour has gone by.
âPeach?! Peach, baby, where are you?!â You hear, and you feel yourself cower deeper into the closet.
The last thing you want is for Rafe to find you in here, crying like a little girl, wishing to be perfect for just a moment.
You hear the string of curses getting closer and closer to you.
You try to conceal your hiccups, by holding your hand over your mouth.
This makes it worse, you canât catch your breath, but you donât remove your hand.
Your head is pounding. Your chest hurts.
You quickly start sobbing, just wanting to disappear.
Without warning, the closet door is yanked open.
There you see your boyfriend Rafe, looking slightly out of breath, almost as if he was urgently trying to find you.
Light fills the room, and his arms quickly wrap around your frame.
You grip onto him harshly, trying to focus on the smell of his rich cologne against his skin.
Rafe pulls away slightly, looking at you with worried eyes that scan your frame.
âIâve been looking all over for you, peach! Where have you been?! Whatâs going on?!â Rafe babbled.
You try to answer him, but only a pathetic squeak leaves your throat. You sob harder at this.
Rafe knows that itâll be impossible to try and get anything out of you while youâre in this state.
So he continues to hold you, rubbing circles up and down your back. Soft hushes leave his lips as he tries to help you regain your breath.
Rafe knows he wasnât a good boyfriend in the past, and it was always you whoâd be there for him.
Now it was his turn to be here, for you.
sorry if the ending is rushed cuties, I couldnât think of anything else and i wanted to get smth out for yâallđ
#leeâs writing! âá˘. ĚŤ.á˘â#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#obx x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x you#rafe cameron#outer banks imagine#rafe obx#obx fic#obx#Spotify
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or else what? âhueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!
cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K
âWhy are you being nice to him?â You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldnât mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, youâre the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humilityâit all screams fake to you.
You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how youâre always pointing out when heâs wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friendsânot everyone in every friend group has to get along, right?Â
âNice to see you too.â
âSomeone separate them please?â Soobin asks. âI canât deal with another argument right now.â He rubs his temple out of caution.
Everyoneâs over for a game nightâSoobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, theyâre off, but definitely still friendly.Â
âHow about some Smash Bros?â
âNo,â you say to Kai. âMario Kart.âÂ
âRiver and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.â
âNot my problem.â
âHow about we take a vote?â He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as youâre the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, itâs still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins.Â
âMaybe you should stop pouting,â Sage says, nudging your shoulder. âBeat him in the next round. You know youâre better than anyone here.â You take the opportunity to easilyâand quicklyâbeat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now itâs his turn to pout while he grabs a snack.Â
Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the groupâs annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you.Â
The reason behind the initial argument is long forgottenâyouâre seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyoneâs keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear.Â
âIt looks like itâs gonna rain soon,â River points out. âWe should probably set up camp.â Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite.Â
âWhat do you think about this spot over here, Sage?â You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. âDonât tell me.â You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. âYouâre back together?â You ask quietly.
âPlease donât be mad,â they say. âItâs going really well this time.âÂ
âI didnât bring another tent.âÂ
âKaiâs tent is huge,â Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if theyâre making a suggestion to him. âCan she stay with you?âÂ
âI thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.âÂ
âI was gonna stay in Sageâs,â Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each otherâs eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyoneâs desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River wonât budge. Sageâs pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agreesâ
âFine,â Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. âYou gotta finish setting it up though. Iâm gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,â he says, leaving you with an impossible task. Thereâs a reason you didnât bring your own tent.
Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, itâs even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kaiâs making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesnât have a dry tent to walk into.Â
âDo you not know how to put a tent up?â
âNo, actually I donât.â
âI couldâve set up three tents by now,â he says, but doesnât have time to be much madderâheâs gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It wouldâve been quicker if he didnât have to work in the rain.Â
Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesnât help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one.Â
âAh, that was my last t-shirt.â
âIâm sorry. I triedââ
âI donât care,â he stops you, holding his hand up.
Falling silent, you change the subject, âWhat took you so long anyway?â
âI was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,â he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. âWanna watch a movie before bed?âÂ
âNo.â You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
âWatching a movie.âÂ
âTurn it off.âÂ
âI didnât ask for permission to watch it,â he points out. âI asked if you wanted to join me.â
âIsnât it gonna bother the other campers?â
âDoubt they can hear it.â
Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.
âWhat are you doing? You assholeââ he snaps, glaring at you.Â
âMe? Youâre the ass for not letting me sleep,â you fire back, narrowing your eyes.Â
âI wasnât supposed to have you in here anyway,â he mutters.Â
âIâm not an asshole,â you say defensively.
âYes, you are,â he spits. âYou always have to have it your way.â
âIâm not having this argument with you,â you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.
He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.
âI can't believe you. You're so annoying,â he says.Â
You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.
Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, âWhere did you get those?â
âMy car,â you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but itâs not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. âCan I help you?â You ask without opening them.
âArenât you gonna share those with me?â
âWhy would I?â
âYouâre the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.âÂ
âNot my fault you didnât bring back-up.â
He exasperates, clearly done with you and all yourâŚwhat does he call it? Selfish nonsense? âI canât believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and wonât even share the dry blankets with me?âÂ
âYou think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. âI donât even like camping but I come along with Sage because theyâre my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I donât know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? Youâre never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? Youâre always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know youâre justââ
Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, âWould you please just shut up?âÂ
Seeing him this madâŚyou donât know if heâs ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention heâs still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his bodyâyouâve never seen him beforeâand you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly.Â
You smirk at him before saying, âMake me." Looking over your face, he doesnât know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he canât help it.Â
Crashing his lips into yours, youâre taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing?âÂ
âI donâtâI donât know, I, uhâŚâ He stutters, trying to find somethingâanythingâto say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now.Â
You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, butâ
âWoah, woah, woah, whatâs happening? You and I are making out?â He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow.Â
âWell, not anymore.â You look at him confused. âDid you forget youâre the one that kissed me first?â
âThat was just so youâd shut up.â
âDonât act like you donât want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.â You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. â...Is that why youâre such an ass to me? Because youâre sexually frustrated whenever youâre around me? Do youâŚlike me?â
âNo,â he says defensively. âI hate you actually. Youâre so annoying.â He rolls his eyes. âBut the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.â Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, âIs that why youâre such an ass to me?â Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. âIt is, isnât it?â You shake your head. âSay it.âÂ
âKai.â
âI wanna hear you say you want me.â
The quickest, most disingenuous, âI want you,â comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? Itâs not like you haven���t noticed how handsome heâd gotten recently, but itâs also not like youâve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you donât think youâve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, âNow shut up and fuck me.âÂ
Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chestâfull and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside.Â
The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking.Â
Mouths all overâhis on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shouldersâitâs a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust.Â
âI hate you,â you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure.Â
âI hate you too,â he responds. âSo much.â The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. âYouâre so fucking stupid,â he says against your ear. âDonât even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?â
âYouâve never been any help to me,â you respond. âPlus, we wouldnât have gotten rained on so much if you didnât get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Canât even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,â you spit. âExceptâŚyouâre kind of a good kisser.â
âWish I could say the same about you.â
âDonât lie,â you smirk. âIâm an incredible kisser.â He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. âBut youâre taking too long. Hurry up,â you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips andâ
âYouâre that wet for me and Iâve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.â You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.
âYouâre already that hard and Iâve barely even touched you? Horny loser.â Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.
Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, âYou never shut the fuck up, do you?â And heâs relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. âYou donât deserve to feel this good.â
âAnd you think you deserve this pussy?â You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, âA dumb fuck like you doesnât deserve to even touch my skin.â
âIs that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?â He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. âNuh-uh. Hands to yourself,â he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground.Â
Suddenly, youâve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, youâre in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it.Â
Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you canât help but reach upâyouâre desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits.Â
âEvery time you try to touch me without permission, Iâll stop touching you,â he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. âGood girl.â
Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? Thatâs delicious. Heat rushes to your ears.Â
âPleaseââ
âAh,â he places his pointer finger over your lips. âI told you to shut up, didnât I?â You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. âYou learn so fast, hm?â You smileâa genuine giddy smile. âSo cute,â he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently.Â
But when a weak little, âFuck,â slips out of your mouth, he stops.
âDid I say you could speak?â You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and youâre being such a good girl for me.Â
Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. Youâre positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to youâtouch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on thatânot only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what heâs doing, youâll give him that.Â
Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy.Â
âAw,â he starts condescendingly. âIs my good little slut gonna come for me?â You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe itâs the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. âSay it.â
You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, âYouâre gonna make me come, Kai.â
âGood girl.â He doesnât change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does somethingâŚexpected? Surprising? Honestly, youâre not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch.Â
Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk youâve hated for years making you cry over his cock?Â
âThatâs for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.âÂ
What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping heâll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point.Â
âTell me you donât deserve me.â You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like heâs proud of you before he says, âYou may speak.âÂ
âI donât deserve you.â He squeezes harder, almost like heâs saying thatâs not enough. âI donât deserve to feel this good. I donât deserve your cock. I donât deserveâŚanything.âÂ
âGood girl.â He loosens his grip around your throat. Heâs done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and heâs determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But heâs gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.
Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts.Â
Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway.Â
âKaiâŚâ you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. âYou are gonna let me come, right?â
His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, âYou think I should?â
âYou better or IâllâŚâ You trail off.
âYouâll what?â He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. âWhat are you gonna do to me?â
Now whatâs a good punishment for him? Clearly, heâs used to being the one punishing his sexual partnersâyou wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You donât want to overpower him like you thought you did. Thereâs something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. Youâre such a powerful woman everywhere elseâthe type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting.Â
Letting someone take full control over you like thisâitâs relaxing. You wonder how much heâs enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasnât stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course heâs enjoying this. And bingoâyouâve got just enough control to get what you want.Â
âIâll never let you fuck me like this again.âÂ
Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, âWe canât let that happen, now can we?â
Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you arenât holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it.Â
When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like youâre floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. Youâre drunk, high on his cock and the only thing youâre seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips.Â
âTalk to me,â he says breathlessly in your ear. But you canât. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know youâre having an incredible orgasm.Â
Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, âFuck, that felt so good.âÂ
âTell me how good.â
âYou made me feel soâŚso fucking good, Kai,â you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? Heâs actually pretty hot and heâs damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. âWhy donât you tell me how good I feel?â
âOh baby, you feel so good,â he says. âYour pussy might be the only thing I like about you.â He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. âWell, maybe your pussy and your tits.â Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin.Â
âI need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.âÂ
âKeep talking to me like that.â
And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you donât catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites.Â
Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, âDamn. That was good.â Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.Â
âListen,â you say, covering your chest with your blanket. âThis canât happen again.â His smile drops.
âWhat?â
âThe fact that we did that,â you gesture between the two of you, ânever leaves this tent, you hear me?â Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. âNo one can find out about this. God, Iâd be so embarrassed. Letâs justâŚget some sleep.âÂ
Did you forget about what he said?
Or Iâll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didnât let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, thereâs too much on his mind.Â
#hp's writingđŞ˛#hueningkai smut#hueningkai hard hours#hueningkai hard thoughts#hyuka smut#hyuka hard thoughts#hyuka hard hours#hueningkai fic#hueningkai ff#hyuka fic#txt smut#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt ff#txt fanfic#kpop smut#kpop ff#txt x reader#hueningkai x reader#hyuka x reader#chubby reader
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the pungent smell of smoke burns at your nostrils, scrunching your nose up on instinct. the aroma of the burning candle beside you isn't serving its purpose of masking the smell of weed, though you should be used to it now. your eyes train on the flicker of flame casting shadows across chris' room, drips of wax melting and collecting on the bottom of the dish you placed it on.
the offer of cracking open a window earlier had chris looking at you funny, tearing your eyes away from the wavering flame and staring at the figure hunched over his desk. smoke floats up and dissipates out on top of chris' form, hearing an audible sigh as the chair he's in creaks with his weight.
"what are you doing?" the words slip from your mouth before you realize you even want to say something, the silence of the room seeming far too suffocating for your liking. you hear chris grunt, and more words are expected after, honestly. but he doesn't say anything else, leading you to confusion. a frown settles on your face, always hating being ignored or being given half answers.
"hey. i'm talking to you," you try again. chris just lifts one of his hands and waves it towards you, as if saying 'it's nothing'. which is fine, but you'd like a proper answer. your heart tugs when he doesn't even respond with his words, the sounds of sheets rustling in the air as you shift around in his bed. you normally wouldn't even push an answer, because you know chris is exhausted sometimes. but today, you feel as if he owes you something. he's been ignoring you all day, like you were some dirt on his shoe that he could give a fuck less about.
"chrisâ" a protest is on the tip of your tongue, face screwed up in frustration, but chris beats you to it. he's sighing, and you can hear the annoyance in his tone. he doesn't turn to look at you, only his words seem to be perfected missiles that cut deep into you.
"shut up for a second. seriously. like, jus' need you to shut the fuck up for five seconds. always yapping on about shit, gettin' upset when i don't pay attention to you. not like im your fuckin' boyfriend. don't piss me off, kid."
you stare at the back of his chair blankly, settling back down in comfortable sheets and plush pillows that support your back. your ears seem to be clogged with water now, tuning out chris' voice and the words that made your chest hurt and mind come up with a million thoughts a minute. and eventually, you shut the brunette out all the way and zone out. that faraway look present in your eyes that's always visible at parties, not wanting to listen to what chris says about you.
you know deep down he's probably just annoyed. he's smoking as well, which never helps his case. you replay today's events, and nothing out of the ordinary happened to have made chris so irritated. you blink, and suddenly he's pacing his room while glaring at you time to time, rambling.
"ân'you're always actin like i have to pay attention to you all the time. do you know how pathetic that is? fuckin' needy ass attention bitch. it's like i can't ever catch a break with you, because it's always 'chris this, chris that'. do shit by yourself for once, actin' like im the only person who cares for you. wouldn't even be surprised, knowing im the one who introduced you to so many of your friends todayâ"
his words aren't true. deep down, you know chris is agitated and speaking his mind. but your heart thumps gently in your chest with each passing second, tears burning behind your eyelids as you blink once, harsh and tight. you focus on the creases of the sheets, tap your fingers against your thigh, anything to try and stop the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
but he just keeps going, and going. talking and talking and talking, and at one point it just gets to be too much. shutting chris out again seemed too mean, lower lip quivering as the heel of your palm comes up to wipe at the tears dripping down your face. your throat gets tight, like a wire cord getting wrapped around your skin and rendering you unable to speak up.
at one point, you sniffle. chris pauses, glancing towards you. his jaw is tight and body rigid, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of you sobbing silently on his bed. the itch to continue is there and making him want to give in, sighing from his nose as the dealer stalks towards you with a few grumbles under his breath.
"alrighy, alright," warm arms and a familiar scent wrap around you as chris settles into his bed and throws an arm around your shoulders. a 'shut up' worms its way into your brain, lips parting in huffs of breaths and your nose feeling stuffy from the tsunami of tears suddenly spilling from your eyes.
you feel his hand grip at your shoulder, tugging you towards his side gently. his other hand wraps around your wrists to yank them away from your face while pulling you softly into his side. he doesnt bother with words, knowing he'd somehow make you cry more if he opened up his stupid mouth.
chris knows he's the reason you're crying right now, lashes clumping together with tears and lips going dry from the gasps of air you're heaving in. with a roll of his blue eyes and a sigh from his lips, he settles down and lets you sob however much you want. it'd be little to no use trying to make you stop, knowing chris he'd just make everything worse. he doesn't enjoy this. not really. and yeah, it was his fault, the seed of guilt heavy in his chest yet his mind choosing to ignore it.
â
@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes
Šeph3merall 2024
#áśťz eph3merall#ŕł dealer!chris#ŕł innocent!bff!reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo drabble#chris sturniolo prompt#chris sturniolo angst#a little#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#the sturniolo triplets#the sturniolos#sturniolo triplets#sturniolos#sturniolo angst
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BakuSquad with S/Oâs Taller Than Them
This was written literally years ago but im trying to clear out my drafts
A/N: im a long boi and most imagines etc. are all shorter than them so i thought â fine, iâll do it myselfâ :)
Sero Hanta
- he has no problem with you being taller than him. Heâs actually really into it.
- cuddle wise he still wants to hold you, no matter the position.
- He will pull you down to his level by putting a hand on the back of your neck and gentle pull you down.
- Since he is the tallest out of all his friends, before he met you, he starts to understand the comfort of hugging and being surrounded by you.
-Â He will tease you about it
- HE does like looking up at you
- Adores the way you make him feel safe, protected and loved.
- Will finally understand the stealing your s/oâs sweaters/hoodies because he has someone to steal from.
- I think that Sero would be s lil bitch about it when you wrap your arm around his shoulders and lean on him but in reality he likes it
Kaminari Denki
- Denks will spend the first few weeks of the relationship in shock and awe that he managed to pull you
- Once it settles in he will become progressively more touchy
- your sweaters / hoodies? they are now his lounge wear
- he like holding you bc it is like hugging a giant teddy bear and he has no problem telling you so
- another fun art of him getting comfortable is that he stops filtering all his thoughts that have to do with you
- they will come right out
- he tells you how much he loves that you tower over him and the size difference just does things to him
- sitting in your lap with your hands around his waist or resting in his lap make him so happy
- will jump up on your back and just hang on to you
Bakugo Katsuki
-Bakugo when he met you was upset that he had regrettably befriended another extra that is taller than him
- he was positive that he was going to keep growing
- by the time y'all are dating he night have grown but certainly not enough to surpass you in any way
- He hates that you literally look down on him, at first, and would find ways to bring him down to his level
- pulling your ear, tugging on your hair, pulling your sleeve/shirt, hitting your legs to make you bend over
- after sometime he realizes that this isnât optimal behavior and will ask you to sit down.
- though after some more time passes he will realize that you never have and never will look down on him
- not when your eyes soften specially just for him and your gaze meets his ; shit just makes him melt
- he finds comfort in being able to be absolutely swallowed by you when cuddling.
- normally when y'all are chilling its side by side or he is the big spoon but when he has nightmares or is really anxious the only place he wants to be in in your bed, wearing comfy clothes and buried in your chest.
Kirishima Eijiro
- Kirishima thinks you are manly always
- regardless if you are masc presenting or not
- babes really needs to learn a new descriptor word
- Kiri loves your hieght from the get go
- cuddling and hugging you is his favorite.Â
- when you leave of greet him you quickly kiss him on his forehead
- he melts and loves it sm
- likes to lean on you with his full body randomly
- think of it like soft n cute trust falls
- he likes that your extra blankets are extra long for him so he has more material to fuss around in when his playing his mobile games on your bed
- pat his head (gently and endearingly obvi)
#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bnha x male reader#bnha x gn reader#sero x reader#sero hanta#sero hanta x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#denki kaminari x reader#denki x male reader#kirishima eijiro x male reader#kirishima x reader
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viv just made a tweet that said, "hey guys, just a reminder. stolas is still alive! and if that upsets you, good, lol? just be normal." and GOD she pisses me off so bad.
1) why can't she just shut the hell up when someone makes fan content that doesnt effect her or her shows success/popularity what so ever? is she just genuinely that insecure knowing that people are starting to REALLY not like stolas, (because in every episode he appears in, it becomes more and more obvious that he's a creators pet), that she has to say something that's passive aggressive and completely unneeded? to put this in perspective - imagine if someone like goose or tracy made a comment like this?
2) this is EXACTLY what i mean when i say that the fandom is great at making dark fiction unlike other fandoms that treat it as call-out post worthy, but only if that dark fiction gets your dick hard.
angel being raped by val? awesome! angel being hypnotized into being raped by vox? even better! merchandise of val and his rape buddy for valentine's day? epic!
ozzie being called out for fully being prepared into letting his best friends lover die? let's throw a like to a fan and treat it as gospel to make another fan feel like shit, for wanting to explore the messy unbalanced dynamics of royals/citizens and mlm angst, who's main couple that took over the shows premise, is nothing BUT messy unbalanced dynamics of royals/citizens and mlm angst! (it's because fizzozzie has to be a perfect ship in comparison to stoliz that makes the most merch money because they're a "wholesome ship" and we can't have any critical thinking from our own fanbase challenge that, despite the having glaring flaws of codependency in both episodes they're focused on. worth mentioning here, but someone made a post here that said, "these shows aren't about standing up to the royals, it's about submitting to the right one," and that describes those two bird bitches to a t.
stella icon spotted? uh oh, im the creator of her and made her an unlikeable abusive bitch to make a guy who coerced the man character of one of my shows into sex every month, look better in comparison! which is rape btw! better say something mean to them on main, because they're not as popular and can't do anything if they're harassed by my standom!
charalastor fan? fuck you. fan of my fat villians? fuck you, no sexy pinups, i hate money if it's not coming from a place that validates only what i like. i won't even make merchandise of angel dust, the guy who's been the most popular and well known character for nearly a decade now! im getting bored of that toy, i need a new mean fictional slut to play with - the one that brings me the most negative attention is just a bonus!
3) "just be normal." viv, you hired someone with a rape fetish to storyboard scenes for the character who's entire conflict is that he's being raped, and someone who ships rick and morty romantically, to do visdev work on oops. rules for thee, but not for me!
i can't wait until everyone looks back at the way she acted 10 years from now, and sees how the way vivziepop has publicly acted has aged just about as well as spoiled milk in the california sun. but i still NEED hbomber guy to make a tommy talerico styled video on her, the only thing that could challenger her power is a universally beloved straight white funny internet man.
Vivziepop expanded said thoughts regarding her bluesky tweets (whether it makes her look better or worse is up to you guys):



Then thereâs her liking Dani Draws (and other users) tweet as the icing on the cake.



#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#anonymous#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop archive
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and sheâs like ânoooo pls donât be mad i hate when youâre mad at me Iâm sorryđĽşâ bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but heâs like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesnât like blow up on her until she finally says like âpls talk to meâ and heâs all pissed and like âhell na bitch u crazy!đŁď¸âźď¸â but then later heâs like âitâs ok i love u but neva do that shit again hoâ then they make up and itâs good again đ ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job đ¤ sigh ⌠idk Iâm leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
âI cannot believe you right now. I donât evenâI donât even know what to say.âÂ
âSpencer, you donât have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and Iâm not looking for your approval.âÂ
He looks up from where heâd been rubbing his temples, like youâre a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.Â
âOh! Youâre not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.âÂ
âAre you fucking kidding me? I just said I donât care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.âÂ
âYou distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I donât understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.âÂ
The words bite more than you were prepared forâbut what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past youâd both said things you didnât mean, and then would immediately melt into Iâm so sorryâs and the fight would resolve itself. Spencerâs clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.Â
You take a step closer to where heâs bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.Â
âSpencer, Iâm sorry. I didnât think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.âÂ
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if youâre imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.Â
âPlease talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. Iâm sorry, okay? Just... please say something.âÂ
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but thereâs not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything thatâs wrong with you.Â
âBelieve me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.âÂ
And then heâs leaving the kitchenânothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.Â
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know heâs doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply itâs nearly disabling; but that doesnât make it hurt much less. It doesnât make you feel less abandoned or alone. Â
Youâre sad, and youâre still pissed, and maybe youâre in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is rightâunless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault? Â
Itâs a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isnât supposed to ever be aimed at you. Itâs not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesnât belong in this apartment. Itâs not something he needs to use against you. Heâs supposed to be on your side. But instead, heâd said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now youâre doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.Â
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The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer. Â
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you donât acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.Â
âCan we talk?âÂ
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.Â
âI donât know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?âÂ
âThat is... well deserved,â he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. Thereâs a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. âAre you doing homework right now? Iâm a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
âWhat the fuck else was I supposed to do?â you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. âThe only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!âÂ
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.Â
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his armsâand you just let him. Thereâs not much fight left in you. There wasnât a lot to begin with.Â
âI am so sorry, angel. Youâre right, I shouldnât have done that. I shouldnât have yelled, I shouldnât have said what I said, I shouldnât have walked away. I overreacted.âÂ
âYeah, you really did,â you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. âWhy did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?âÂ
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.Â
âI was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knewâI knew it wasnât what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldnât figure out why I wasnât. But I think I was just scared. WhichâI know, doesnât really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced Iâd never get clean that I didnât even want to anymore, andâand the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And Iâm sorry.âÂ
âBut Iâm not like you or Ethan. You donât have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. Thatâs a road you donât have to worry about me going down, ever.âÂ
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt. Â
âYeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday heâd be shooting up in the bathroom at work?âÂ
âMm-mm,â you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencerâs shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. Itâs still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didnât know him then, but youâve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and itâs... itâs just too much. Too sad.Â
âOkay,â he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. âI digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while itâs not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.â Â
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devilâs advocate; in this case, you.Â
âBut that doesnât mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.âÂ
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.Â
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.Â
âAre you still mad at me?âÂ
Heâs quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.Â
âIâm not thrilled. But you were right earlier. Itâs not my place to be mad at you for something like that.âÂ
âMm... itâs a little bit your place. Youâre an actual professor.âÂ
He chuckles.Â
âAt an entirely different university.âÂ
âThank god,â you laugh. âYou and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.â
While itâs almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.Â
âYeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.âÂ
âOkay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?âÂ
Spencer sighs.Â
âIt was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. Itâs my tentative, professional opinion that youâll probably be fine.âÂ
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didnât realize was there to shed like an old skin.Â
âIâm not gonna cheat again,â you promise on an exhale. Itâs simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencerâs response is quiet, and comes much faster than youâd expected.Â
âOh, I know you arenât. Because if you do, youâre going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And Iâm not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.âÂ
But something about the way he says itâa thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your foreheadâdoesnât exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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