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mxqdii · 9 months

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nott into you - m.s

pairings: nott reader x mattheo riddle

summary: reader's brother is theodore nott and develops feelings for his best friend mattheo

warning(s): drinking, brief makeout drugs.

not proofread

FRIDAY:

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

it's funny how a week can change everything.

okay! i know this looks really wrong, but i can explain.. let's go back to where this all started, monday.

-1 WEEK PRIOR.-

MONDAY:

i sit in potions, bored as ever at snapes lesson, feeling eyes on me.

i look over seeing mattheo riddle staring, which isn't totally weird, considering we've been friend's since first year, just abnormal.

this time it's different though, like some weird tension in the air, i feel as if red smoke is filling my lungs and calling out mattheo's name.

snapping out of it, i clear my throat and focus my attention onto the horribly boring, lesson

the class ends sooner than later and i take my time to collect my stuff, not noticing mattheo waiting for me.

i head to the door and meet eyes with him

"waiting for me, riddle?" i question and his lips curl upwards

"i might be, walk with me will you?" he asks and i nod, following wherever he's going.

"i noticed you staring" i mumble

"yeah and i noticed you drooling" he says and i scoff

"you think too highly of yourself riddle" i professed

"mmh i'm not so sure about that, have you met your brother?" he adds on and i realize

my brother, shit.

this flirty banter shouldn't even be happening right now, considering if theo saw he would absolutely loose his shit.

"yeah thats theo, uh- anyways i gotta go, nice talking to you riddle!-" i say in a rush, walking the other direction.

TUESDAY:

i hear the door open and look up seeing pansy, i'm currently in the slytherin common room working on some extra homework.

"hey" she says, plopping down next to me

"hey pans whats up?" i ask, putting my books down.

"okay so, i know this is a long shot.. buuuttt, there's a party tomorrow and before you say no just please please think about going!" she says the last part really fast and i laugh

"who's throwing it?" i question and she squints her eyes

"we are..?" she mumbles and my eyes widen

"pansy what!?!" i yell

"okay i know it seems bad, but some first years accidentally heard me saying how slytherin parties are the best and one thing led to another and all of a sudden i had to prove it was true and now everyones expecting a party tomorrow night and i need your help!" she rambles and i sigh

"fine."

later that day, i cross paths with mattheo again.

who cares what my brother thinks or wants for me, it's my life.

"hey mattheo, sorry about yesterday" i say with a smile and he nods

"don't worry about it sweetheart" the name makes my cheeks flush.

we kinda just stand there looking into eachothers eyes for a moment, i'm not sure how it was, but i definitely looked full of lust.

he moves closer to my ear, whispering

"you're drooling again"

i roll my eyes throwing in a, "you wish"

WEDNESDAY:

the party is all set up, and it took HOURS.

me and pansy had to rush right when classes ended to get everything ready

we're supposed to start the party in an hour but before doing that, me and my friendgroup decided to have a little fun

me, pansy, theo, mattheo, draco, enzo and blaise decided to play a friendly game of truth or dare before letting anyone else in.

"y/n" enzo says and i let out a shakey breath, not noticable enough for anybody to hear though.

"yes enzo?" i respond, eyeing him in anticipation

"what'a a dirty secret you've been hiding lately?" he asks and i smirk

maybe i could fuck with these people in a way that wouldn't expose me, but in a way... would?

"well enzo, so glad you asked. recently there has been someone catching my eye... someone who's off limits, someone i'm not allowed to touch, you could call it forbidden, but i prefer the term secrecy." i say with a smug smile, avoiding any and all eye contact with mattheo

before anyone has time to say anything, the clock chimes and the doors to the common room open, the room flooding with people from all different houses.

the rest of the night was kinda a blur, except for the end of it.

i'm too drunk to even function right now, feeling vulnerable and anxious.

god this is why i don't go to parties.

"hey beautiful" a random gryffindor says and i make a face of disgust

"jus' leave me alone" i say in hopes of peace, turning around to walk away, but instead he grabs my wrist.

i turn back to look at him seeing the no-good look on his face

"oh no" i mumble

"are you gonna like.. do bad thing's to me" i ask

i'm never drinking again i feel like an idiot.

"you just consented to it so i might as well huh baby?" he says and i groan.

"i actually have a-" without thinking i grab someones hand, anyone to get me out of this situation would be great

"mattheo?" i say looking up, seeing its him who i grabbed

well, i was going to say boyfriend but mattheo works too.

the gryffindor boy's expression quickly changes from being in control to being scared shitless.

i'm too hazy to even feel right, not paying attention to the bickering mattheo is doing, the way he's absolutely screaming at this boy.

my hand tugs mattheos arm, causing him to look down at me

"mattheo please- just get me out of here" i say, leaning onto his arm.

fuck i'm not supposed to feel like this

THURSDAY:

the last thing i remember, is mattheo dragging me out of that party.

i think he was carrying me? or was it theo? i don't really remember.

i turn over, opening my eyes seeing mattheo next to me

what the fuck.

"g'morning princess" he says and i wince, feeling the light hit my face.

"what time is it?" i ask and see him look over to his bedside table

"like 10" he says and my eyes widen as much as they can.

"it's thursday mattheo we have class!' i yell, attempting to get up

his arm lightly pushes me down

"you need to rest, do you remember what happened last night?" he asks and i shake my head

"you were drugged and you passed out." he mumbles and my eyes widen

"who the fuck drugged me??" i exclaim

"i don't know" he says and i sigh, thinking about last night trying to remember anything i can.

i don't even realize how close me and mattheo are, the way he's shirtless and the way the sun hits his eyes, his morning voice, his soft sheets.

i look down seeing me in his shirt and i quirk an eyebrow which he notices

"no don't worry uh- pansy changed you not me" he reassures and i smile.

the rest of the day we end up just talking and laughing in his dorm, only leaving for food and water.

i gotta admit, it is awfully suspicious me leaving with him last night and waking up in his dorm, now us ditching and spending the whole day together.

but like i said before, i don't care what my brother thinks.

FRIDAY:

i'm currently getting lectured by snape for missing class and i can't help but let my mind wander to mattheo

lately, thats been all my mind is full of.

the tension has been getting thicker and my desire for him has been getting needier.

i need to tell him.

i rush out of snapes lecture as soon as he's finished, rushing to the common room.

what am i even doing, i'm being way too impulsive right now, it's fine i only live once, i have to do this. i tell myself

i reach the common room and run upstairs, knocking on mattheos dorm frantically

he opens the door and i smile, suddenly feeling all of my words leave my mind, going completely blank

then i remembered, i dont need words to tell him what i need.

without thinking, i grab his cheek and kiss him, it definitely caught him by surprise, but it did for me too.

without breaking the kiss, he leads me inside and closes the door, pinning me against it.

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth

"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.

fuck, it's my brother.

a/n: let me know if u guys want a part 2<3

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libraryofgage · 5 months

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Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #debbie jellinsky #steve deserves good parents actually #my writing #sorry it's been so long the inspiration took a while to hit for this one hfdjks

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roguerogerss · 8 months

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Show You How Much I Love You

Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)

Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.

(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)

—

You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.

"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.

"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"

"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.

You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.

You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.

He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"

"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.

"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."

"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."

"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"

"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."

You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"

"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"

"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"

"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."

A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."

You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.

"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.

"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.

"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.

"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."

He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."

Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"

"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"

You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"

"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.

"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.

"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.

But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."

"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.

"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.

"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."

"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.

"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."

As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"

Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.

"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."

You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"

"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."

"I know. I know, I just-"

"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."

"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."

You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."

Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.

You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.

"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.

"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."

"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.

"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.

"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

"I don't know, Michael-"

"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."

Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.

"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"

"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."

He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.

He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.

He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."

You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."

"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.

"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.

You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.

Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.

The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.

"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.

Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."

"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."

Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.

You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."

"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.

His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"

"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”

"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."

"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.

"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.

"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.

"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.

"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.

"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."

Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.

"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.

"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.

"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.

You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.

"Time to change the bandages."

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #michael gray smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders x reader #finn cole #peaky blinders fic

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campingwiththecharmings · 9 months

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driver!jake x rich girl!reader

👀👀👀👀

i...am 99.9% sure @melodygatesauthor has probably written this (or something similar lol) but i am happy to put my spin on it as well 😌

---

You're wearing that skirt again.

The one he's sure you know drives him crazy, the one that's so short it barely covers anything, the edges fluttering slightly as you walk, granting him glimpses of the tantalizing treasure beneath.

He tries not to stare, really he does, knows it's not the most professional thing to do (especially as an employee of your father's) but...it's just so hard (in more ways than one).

You certainly don't make his job as your driver easy. Dancing and drinking into the early hours of the morning with your friends (all of whom have tried to pick him up at least once), drunkenly piling into his limo in your designer dresses and heels, giggling and screaming as he quietly drives you back to your penthouse (where the party will likely continue). If he wasn't paid so much, he might be more annoyed at the state of his backseat after he's dropped you off--more than once, he's had to have his (normally) pristine limo professionally cleaned after one of your overserved friends has puked all over his leather seats.

Yes. You're definitely lucky he's paid so well.

Tonight had started as it usually did, with you and your friends asking to be dropped of at some club downtown. It's 1 a.m., and Jake knows he still has a few hours before the club closes for the night. Deciding to stretch his legs, he exits the vehicle, shucking his jacket and tossing it in the driver's seat. He closes the door with his hip, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

Briefly, he considers taking a walk but this part of town is a tad sketchy and he's not too comfortable leaving his car unattended here in the street. Instead, he opts to lean against the side, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it, groaning softly as he takes a pull, the smoke filling his lungs as he inhales deeply. Jake closes his eyes to savor the pleasant buzz in his head from the nicotine, tipping his head back a little and exhaling slowly. He opens his eyes just as the last tendrils of smoke are blown away by the warm, night breeze, and sees you.

There you are, standing alone on the sidewalk in front of him, designer coat folded over your arm, soft smile on your lips. Jake starts, immediately throwing the cigarette down and stomping it out, his back going rigid as he stands to attention.

"Oh, ah--Ready to go, Miss?"

Your lips twitch, eyes dragging slowly down the length of him before you say, "Yes. Take me home, Mr. Lockley."

Jake nods, briefly wondering where the rest of your group is as he pulls open the door to the back of the limo for you. When you don't get in immediately, he looks back, questioning.

With a twinkle in your eyes that he hadn't noticed before, you tell him, "I'd rather sit up front this time, actually."

He nods slowly, wondering what game you're playing with him now. "Of course, whatever you'd like."

Jake closes the back door and turns, pulling open the passenger door for you instead. You make eye contact with him as you brush past, the delicious scent of you invading his senses.

Yeah. He's in big trouble.

Absently, he wets his lips, closing the door once you're inside. He takes his time making his way back around to the driver's side, trying to compose himself for the ride back to your penthouse.

You've always been a hard one for him to read. You've teased him before, sure, but...he'd always figured you were just having fun, that you were just toying with the hired help--that's just what spoiled, little rich girls did, right?

He tosses his jacket into the back and gets in, closing the door and pulling his seat belt on. The engine purrs to life when he turns the key in the ignition, the sound calming his nerves a little. He puts the car into gear, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You're looking out the window, head turned mostly away from him, body angled so you can rest your elbow against the door. He takes a moment to admire your profile, the soft line of your neck, the way the material of your skirt pulls against your thighs. Then, he clears his throat.

"Seat belt."

You look over at him, teasing smile returning to your painted lips as you look at him from beneath your lashes. For a moment, he thinks you're going to talk back, to argue, to tell him you can do whatever you want, but instead, you wordlessly buckle yourself in, eyes never leaving his. He nods, swallowing thickly as he returns his attention ahead.

Your penthouse isn't far from the club you'd been at, and it normally doesn't take long for him to make it back there after your nights out on the town, but he remembers too late that you left earlier than usual this evening and hits a little more traffic than he'd like. You've been quiet the entire drive, simply staring out the window, shifting in your seat every now and then. He can't be sure, but he feels like you might be doing it on purpose, to draw his attention to the fact that your skirt has ridden up so high on your delectable thighs that he can see a flash of the white lace panties beneath them. Jake fights the urge to groan, instead keeping his attention on the road a head of him.

He's relieved when he spots the familiar building that houses your penthouse, internally breathing a sigh of relief as he smoothly halts at the entrance. The doorman rushes out to open the door for you, but you wave him off, instead turning back toward Jake, that gleam still in your eyes.

"Would you mind walking me upstairs, Mr. Lockley?" you ask, your voice soft and far more innocent than the look in your eyes. "I'm not used to being up there all alone."

Jake pauses, considering the repercussions. If he says no, will you complain about him to your father? He could lose his job. But if he says yes, and you do what he thinks you're going to do, he'll lose it anyway, won't he? (that, or your father will kill him)

So either way he's screwed, it seems. Least he can do is have a little fun first.

Jake nods, wetting his lips again as he steers the car toward the garage beside your building. He parks in the spot marked for the penthouse (a spot that's conveniently located right beside the elevator), and helps you out of the vehicle. The edge of your skirt has risen up so high, he can see the curve of your ass cheeks peeking from beneath it as you walk ahead of him to the elevator. He stifles another groan, trying his best to remain professional just in case he's misreading this situation.

The ride up in the elevator is excruciating. All he can think about is pinning you up against the side and shoving his face between your legs. He wonders how you taste (he imagines something rich and sweet, like champagne), how you'd sound, how you'd look just as you're about to come.

The elevator chimes, startling him from his thoughts, the doors opening into the foyer of the penthouse. It's lavish, elegant, but also somehow understated. Perhaps a little like you, he thinks.

Inside he breaths a sigh of relief, thinking his task is done, that he's free to return to his car and go home for the evening...but as you step off onto the white marble floor, you turn slightly, waving him inside.

"Come in, have a drink with me."

Jake hesitates, and you must see it because you chuckle and say, "It's the least I can do for making you walk me all the way up here."

He smiles, nodding his thanks as he makes a waving gesture with his hands. "Please, Miss, there's no need. I'm just doing my job."

Disappointment clouds your eyes at his words and you look away with a quiet sigh, one he only catches because he's watching you so closely. Suddenly you look so....lonely. Standing there in this grand penthouse, all alone. He shouldn't feel bad for you, you have everything you could ever want, everything he doesn't, but...he can't seem to help himself.

Knowing he'll likely end up regretting it, he steps inside, his shoes squeaking slightly on the floor. Your head swivels back toward him at the sound, a light in your eyes when she realizes you've decided to stay. The sight makes something warm unfurl in his chest.

Half an hour later, you're both sitting in your living room (on the most uncomfortable couch he's ever had the misfortune of sitting on), glasses in hand and a bottle of Macallan whisky between you. Your ridiculous heels lay discarded on the floor, delectable legs curled up beneath you as you both laugh about something one of you had said.

Jake's always prided himself on being able to hold his alcohol but, honestly? He's pretty certain that, if he's not drunk now, he is well on his way. He can't stop staring at you, at the way your smile lights up your whole face, the way your eyes sparkle when you say something cheeky...the way your skirt is still riding up your thighs.

He takes another sip from his glass (which he should really stop doing if he's planning on driving himself home later), the liquid burning down his throat. Jake licks his lips, eyes glued to your thighs, wondering idly how soft your skin is, how you'd react if he pushed his calloused hand beneath the hem of your skirt, his fingers dancing along the edge of your panties--

"Jake?"

His eyes shoot back to yours, heat flaring in his cheeks at being caught. You're close (when had you gotten so close?), so close he can smell you, can feel the heat of you through your clothes.

He hums in response, not trusting that his mouth is capable of coherent speech at the moment. You smile, putting your arm against the back of the couch, the length of your body pressed along the side of his as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

"I want you."

Jake groans softly at your words, unable to contain himself any longer. He feels you smile against the side of his neck, your lips dragging along the skin there. You press a feather-light kiss just below the hinge of his jaw and he leans back a little, giving you more space. You hum, nipping at another spot and soothing it with your tongue. Your fingers find their way into his hair, plunging into his soft curls, and gently angling his head where you want it.

You kiss him and he groans again, eyes fluttering shut as your lips move tentatively against his. His hand cups your cheek and you sigh, the action making something tighten in his chest. Soon you're straddling his lap, skirt ridden up so far you might as well not be wearing it (which would be just fine with Jake). His hands are everywhere--cupping your face, slipping beneath your top, clutching your ass, pushing up your thighs toward the hem of your skirt--

You break the kiss with a gasp as his fingertips skim over the delicate lace covering your pussy, your thighs quaking on either side of him.

"Please," you whine breathlessly, mouth falling open as you chase his touch.

Obligingly, Jake slips a finger inside, groaning softly at how warm and wet you are. He swirls his fingertip around your clit, gently teasing it, and dragging the most delicious sounds from between your lips. He watches transfixed as you writhe in his lap, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted. You moan as he slips his fingers further south, briefly teasing your entrance before dipping inside. Your fingers clench in his shirt as you move against his hand, his name spilling from your mouth like a prayer.

"That's it, bebita," he breathes, his chest heaving a little as he watches you. "Take what you need."

You moan again as he circles your clit, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, breath fanning against his lips. You whine his name again and he groans, the sound going straight to his cock. When you come, he swears it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, your breath hitching, mouth slack, eyes closed in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through you.

Jake brings his fingers to his lips as you try to catch your breath, moaning as the rich taste of you explodes on his tongue. He wants more, wants to devour you, to make you come over and over and over again on his tongue until he's swallowed every last ounce of your essence.

He wonders if you'd let him.

You kiss him then, slow and sensual, humming a little as you lick into his mouth. He groans when your hand slips inside his trousers, taking him in your hand.

"Need you, Jake," you pant, lightly rubbing your thumb over his tip.

He throws his head back against the edge of the couch, cursing under his breath in Spanish. He hears you chuckle, your delicate hands working him from his pants.

He clutches at your hips as you sink down onto him, that silly little skirt bunched up around your waist. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as you ride him, your hands fisting in his thick hair as you pull his mouth back to yours. You're squeezing him, your cunt fluttering around his length as he fucks up into you, searching for the spot he knows will fling you over the edge. You break the kiss with a gasped moan when he finds it, whimpering and whining into his ear as he hits it again and again ("Oh fu--right there, Jake. Yeah, just like that. Oh God. Oh fuck---"). You gush around him when you come, soaking and squeezing his cock. He follows you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a broken groan.

He ends up staying the night (and if he makes you come a few more times before the sun rises, well, who's to say?).

**apologies for any mistakes, this was absolutely not proofread lol**

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

PART 2

#em tag #my fic #(i guess?? lol)#i know you're busy rn em but please feel free to add to this if you want #ik i went a little nuts lmao #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley smut #moon knight fanfic

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fudanshidoublevision · 3 months

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It's pretty funny how the three love interests have something in common 。。。。besides their obvious interest (Haley) and obsession (Double Vision and Ray) towards the MC of the game.

The three of them smoke, which might be something banal for some but I like to hold into small details like these and make up stuff.

Haley takes smoke breaks, Ray smokes when he is in your apartment and Double isn't shown smoking in the game but he does on his birthday illustration. ᶘ ⊙ᴥ⊙ᶅ

Not sure if that was on purpose or just a coincidence but either way, it makes sense to me.

Ray, especially, the fact that he smokes.

Considering that he spent most of his pre-teen and teenage years until he was 18 years old living with Steel Sheriff and remember, Steel Sheriff is a shitty person and a BAD influence, so it makes sense that maaaybe that bad habit was influenced by that horrendous man and Ray took a hold into it.

Ray strikes me as the type of guy who's addicted to nicotine and honestly? I don't blame him at all, that man went through so much shit since he came out of his mother's womb so if he EVEN chain smokes, it wouldn't faze me at all.

Not sure if Ray smokes only at night but someone dear to me does and well, the only time of the day Ray is completely free of any duty is at night, as far as i've seen? Also, smoking at night sounds...right to me, he takes notice of you and opens the window so he isn't stinking up your place...which is surprising, the only smokers I know always smoke in secluded places and I can smell it all the way into my bedroom. ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

I'm aware that nicotine has some benefits but we are talking about Ray, who is freaking Binary Star, HIS ABILITY???? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. /j This man does not GAF about the side effects or the benefits of smoking. Out of the three I believe that Ray is free from any illnesses or any type of side effects, heh.

Now, Haley, they are shapeshifter...? Correct me if I'm wrong, im an amateur on the Haley department. Crazy idea but imagine if they smoke on their cat form, holy fucking shit. Their brain, gastrointestinal system or even their heart is not safe though...but I believe that they can easily shift into any animal with the strongest lungs ever and live another day without being worried about any complications? Huh, this sounds batshit crazy so I think I'll stop writing this part.

Like Ray, Haley seems to smoke as a sedative, what if they smoke herbal cigarettes? Also, I believe that they can easily quit if they want to (heh, now that I'm reading this part i forgot that this is something most addicts say, LOL.) , which I beg to differ when it comes to Ray or Double, I don't judge them, just an observation I guess.

At last, my favorite character and current obsession, Double Vision.

Cigarette smoking, yeah but what about vaping? He looks like the type of guy that would vape or maybe is it too tame for him? Maybe he wants something stronger. Wait, does anyone really need a reason to smoke? ಠಿ_ಠ

People say that vaping is less hazardous than smoking but to me? It's the same thing, most e-cigarretes contain nicotine but yeah, you are inhaling smoke from burning tobacco when you smoke a cigarette. I don't know anything about vaping. It's pretty popular in my country though, never tried it but my friend told me that vaping feels and tastes different from smoking, so I believe their judgement.

Forgive my yapping, like I was saying! He isn't safe from the lung cancer, at all. Yeah, this man can do sick tricks with the smoke, for sure... I'm not going to name any because I might be wrong but you name it and maaaaaaaybe he would be capable of doing it, if you can do something for him back, of course. Oh, I'm 100% sure this freakazoid throws the smoke in your face on purpose, I find that hot actually...if only my nostrils and eyes could say the same about that. If he does that, I'll be coughing like I have asthma until I die.

Hmm, I can't think of when he started smoking...maybe on his teenage years? After all, I think it was at that time that he started to get along with shady people and ugly business. The power of influence and their ambience might be a big factor of this habit on these guys. Heavy on Ray.

That's everything I could think of. For now.

If you are a real person, don't smoke, I guess?. Do whatever you want BUT DON'T BE TELLING ANYONE THAT TUMBLR USER fudanshidoublevision encouraged you to do it.

If you are fictional character, yassss smoke all you want beautiful inexistent individual, you don't exist after all!

GODDAMN!!!!!! I MIGHT START SMOKING RIGHT NOW IF I CAN LOOK THIS HOT 😍😍😍 GIVE ME THAT CIGARETTE 🔥🔥🔥

#binary star hero #bsh double vision #bsh haley #bsh ray #binary star #my goofy ahh writing #actually i feel like this post doesn't deserve this tag but rather #overnalyzing writing

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anonymous-dentist · 29 days

Text

Part Five of the Catboy in the Village AU

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four

Before Cellbit can start any kind of investigation, he passes out from hunger. (Four days without eating will do that, he supposes...)

It's sort of just... quick. He's sitting up in bed so Roier can braid his hair, and then his head and eyes are all fuzzy, and then he's in a different bed with no Roier and with an absolutely killer migraine.

He groans and rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket over his head, because he knows that there's somebody watching him. He can feel their (her) eyes on him, and they're making him feel even more sick than he already feels.

"You're an idiot," the queen declares.

Cellbit just hisses at her. She doesn't deserve his words.

He can practically hear her eye roll. Wood creaks from next to his bed, footsteps clicking against the cold stone floor, and then a light 'creeeeak' as a cabinet is opened on the far side of the room. Grumbling from the queen- insults, mostly. Clinks and clatters as she searches for something.

Cellbit's stomach twists and groans from hunger. Gods, what he'd give to be in his kitchen right now with Roier making dinner less than an arm's length away from him. Smoke in Cellbit's lungs, flavor already burning his tongue, fresh bread from the bakery across the street in front of him as an appetizer.

"There's soup on the table next to you," the queen says.

But it isn't Roier's soup, is the thing. It's probably poisoned. Or, worse, it's gross. Not enough meat, probably. Possibly even vegan, eugh.

How would the queen react if Cellbit told her that he only eats dishes with human flesh cooked into them? Would that be enough for her to send him home?

...Probably not, considering she seemed more upset about him being bad at escaping prison than him actually being in prison in the first place. That opens a whole bag of worms in itself, because how in the world does the queen know about Alcatraz when Cellbit's own in-laws don't? How long has she been stalking him for?

"If you need something lighter, I can have the kitchens send up some bread or crackers," the queen continues.

"I'm not hungry," Cellbit grumbles.

He's gone for longer than four days without food. During the war, it wasn't until Bad picked him up and taught him what his claws and fangs were good for that Cellbit started having dinner more than once a week. When he was put in solitary confinement in prison, he wasn't given food at all, and he was in that cell for at least five days at a time.

He's gone for longer than four days, so it has to be something in the castle that has made Cellbit so weak. Maybe it's something in the air, some kind of magic the queen is employing to try and break him down. The bed sheets might be laced with sickness runes. The guards constantly following Cellbit and Roier around might be warlocks in league with whatever demon is haunting the castle.

"Right," the queen sarcastically says. "You're not hungry. You just passed out after not eating for four days for no reason."

Cellbit bristles so literally that his ears tent the blanket above his head. He grits his teeth together and, not for the first time, he wishes that he still had his claws.

"Exactly," he grits out. He flexes his fingers, pretending the air he's scratching is the queen's stupid (identical) face. "So. Leave."

"I'm good, actually," the queen lightly responds. She sounds beyond pissed off, but she also sounds as calm as can be expected of royalty. Ugh. "I'm going to order some bread for you in just a moment."

Cellbit's ear twitches. "No."

"You're an alchemist, yes? You know what happens when you take a potion on an empty stomach. This might be the healer's quarters, but I will not have you throwing up all over her floor."

Cellbit pulls a bit of his blanket over and away from one of his eyes so he can glare at the queen properly.

"I'm not going to throw up," he scoffs. Who does she think he is?

Now that he can see the queen, he's even more annoyed. More than that, though, he's confused because... why? Why is she here? What kind of warden pays this much attention to their prisoner?

She's rooting through a large wooden cupboard filled with things Cellbit recognizes from his own supplies back home: healing potions, powdered unicorn's horn, phoenix feather, faerie dust.

"When you passed out, you hit your head pretty hard on one of your bedposts," the queen explains, ignoring him entirely. "Your husband has requested that you be given something to help with your pain, and you know that you can't take that without something in your stomach. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn," Cellbit huffs. "And I'm not in pain. So."

He isn't lying; he feels just fine. The only thing hurting is his stomach, and that's normal with starvation. He's more than used to the feeling by now.

"So you're going to take one dose of this potion to make your husband happy."

Oh, and now she's blackmailing him with Roier's emotions. Great.

Unfortunately for the queen, Cellbit knows his husband well enough to know that, if Roier wanted him to take a potion, he would be in the room force-feeding it to him himself. He wouldn't have Cellbit's current number one worst enemy try and do it, he isn't that cruel.

...Now that Cellbit thinks of it, where is Roier?

A bolt of panic grips Cellbit around his heart and he sits up in a flash, blanket flying off of him as his entire body tenses. His ears stick up on end, straining for any sign of Roier. Nothing.

"Where is he?" Cellbit demands.

He looks around the room and sees absolutely nothing that he can use as a weapon. Great. It's fine. It's fine! He can just-

Cellbit's vision swims, and he feels himself tipping to the side and off of the bed. The queen shouts, but he can't hear whatever she says over the sound of nothingness as he loses consciousness for the second time that day.

It takes much less time for him to wake up this time. He's up and trying to get to his feet within seconds of hitting the floor, his ears flat against his head and his eyes wide with panic as he fully decides that the queen may have, in fact, killed Roier. She had Cellbit drugged and she had Roier killed and now she's going to keep Cellbit in a much worse cell and she's going to torture him until he agrees that he's her brother and-

He's shocked back to reality as a blanket is dropped over his head from above. What?

"Roier is fine," the queen gently says. She's above him now, too- on the bed, probably, why? Is she trying to smother him? "He's the one who brought you here. He and the healer went to get some ice from the kitchens. She was going to go by herself, but he wanted to make sure she wouldn't try and poison you."

What a hero. Of course Roier would worry about the ice being poisoned, he and Cellbit both know a hundred ways to poison someone. It's hard not to know how to poison people in the potion business.

...But she's lying. The queen is lying. She hasn't told Cellbit the truth once since she first barged into his store.

...But the blanket over Cellbit's head is really heavy. Was it this heavy before? No, right?

Cellbit kneads his fingers into the knees of his trousers. He twists his wedding ring around his finger. His nose twitches. His lungs hurt.

"Still works," the queen mutters. What does that mean?

A few short, yet excruciatingly-long, moments of blanket and panic later, the door to the room slams open, and a pair of beautifully-familiar boots thud towards Cellbit. A second later, the blanket is ripped off of his head, and there's Roier holding a bowl of ice and looking so handsomely concerned.

"Gatinho..." he breathes.

And then he scowls and plops onto the ground in front of Cellbit, cross-legged. He puts the bowl down on his lap, leans forward, and grabs Cellbit by the face with both hands and squishes his cheeks together.

"I fucking told you to eat!" he shouts, only halfway angry. He squishes Cellbit's cheeks harder. "And now you are on the floor. Why are you on the floor, eh?"

"He fell," the queen responds. She's still on the bed, cross-legged herself, with her chin resting against her fist. "He wanted to search for you."

Roier 'awww's once before gently shaking Cellbit's head back and forth.

"What have I told you?" he scolds. "I'll always come back for you. Even when I die, I'll just haunt you as a sexy ghost. I'm not letting any stupid queen get rid of me?"

"Hey!" the queen protests.

Cellbit smiles, though, and he reaches up to place his hands over Roier's.

"Desculpe, guapito," he says.

Roier smiles back, his anger slowly fading from his face.

"Your forehead is all purple," he tells Cellbit. "Come here..."

He takes the blanket off of the floor and wraps it around a handful of ice cubes. It's a lumpy cold mess, but it's sweet, so Cellbit doesn't complain too much as Roier softly presses the makeshift ice pack against Cellbit's forehead.

Cellbit leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. He bites back a happy little purr. (Not in front of the queen...!)

Someone else walks into the room, but Cellbit couldn't care less about them. They have to be the healer, but there's nothing wrong with him. Nothing he can't fix himself with the right ingredients, anyway.

He cracks an eye open and glares up at the queen, who looks... thoughtful. Uh-oh.

"I'm not taking the potion," he tells her. "I don't drink anything I don't make myself."

The queen shrugs. "That's fine, then. There's a cauldron on the other side of the room. Right, Niki?"

She looks over her shoulder, and Cellbit can just barely make out a head of pink hair. Must be 'Niki', then. The healer.

"That's right!" the healer agrees. "You can use what you want! It's all in here somewhere!"

Roier leans in close and whispers, "That's Niki. She talks a lot about empanadas."

Cellbit's stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and he groans.

"Please don't mention food right now," he sighs, voice low.

"Mmm, or I can, and you'll eat something and we can go back to our room," Roier hums. He tenderly strokes Cellbit's cheek. "I'm in the mood for empanadas right now, actually. Ah, or mixiotes... or gorditas..."

Cellbit slumps forward against Roier's shoulder, bringing the ice with him.

"Guapito, please..." he whines.

"If you're hungry, I can have any of that made for you," the queen offers.

A growl bubbles up from Cellbit's throat, but Roier covers it up with a loud, "Ah! But how do we know you won't put poison in it, hmm?"

"Because I wouldn't poison my brother or my brother-in-law? That would be ridiculous!"

"Mhmm. But how can we be sure?"

"Let Roier cook for the both of us," Cellbit says. "That way, we know for sure that it'll be safe."

A beat. And then:

"Are you being serious right now?" the queen demands. "That was why you wouldn't eat? Because your husband wasn't cooking it for you?"

Cellbit turns his head to glare up at her. "You would starve yourself, too, if you had to go from his cooking to someone else's. His food is perfect. He could be a professional, you know."

The queen looks absolutely shocked. Positively bewildered. Confused beyond all belief. Angry, too. Annoyed.

"You are. Ridiculous," she stammers out. "But... fine. Yes! You should have just asked from the beginning! Oh my gods! You should have asked!"

She continues ranting about how silly Cellbit is for not trusting her despite them literally being family, which is absolutely ridiculous because, A, they aren't family, and, B, she literally knocked him out and kidnapped him and his husband and is holding them both captive.

But Cellbit doesn't listen. Instead, he thinks. Once he's back on his feet, he can actually start investigating. And then? He and Roier can go.

His stomach grumbles again; Roier giggles and pokes at Cellbit's belly and starts listing out potential dinner options in order of Cellbit's favorites to his least favorites.

...But first, dinner.

Finally.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#catboy in the village au #was gonna write something else but then i decided i wanted them to Talk a little #fun fact: ba gi knows the blanket trick because it used to calm cell down when he was a kid #and it still works now #even though he himself doesn't know how or why it works #because he hasn't done it since he was a kid and he doesn't remember being a kid

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

WIBTA if i asked my friend to stop talking about cigarettes and nicotine related things with me? (cw for lots of talk ab smoking and cancer)

i (18ftm) have a friend in my psychology class (18f) who smokes cigarettes frequently and has been talking about considering switching to vapes.

for some backstory, my father passed away around two years ago now from lung cancer and complications, brought on by smoking cigarettes. he was undergoing chemo and radiotherapy, also self-medicating with CBD tablets to help with the pain.

i’m only just registering this part of my life now and have not really gone to therapists or councillors as i didn’t need it until now, but i recently got an appointment for this along with a referral for potential OCD and health anxiety that may or may not have been caused because of my dad’s smoking and illness.

i go to a uk college in the countryside so there are naturally a lot of kids who smoke both weed and nicotine, and a lot who vape.the issue here is that ive found the smell of cigarettes sends me into an anxious state and makes me feel sick/nauseous. the smell of weed is fine usually for me.

i hate to say it but i do not like smokers. if you’ve been doing it for a while, there’s no point in asking ‘does it smell like i’ve gone for a smoke?’ the answer is always yes, it sticks even through deodorant and perfume and stains your teeth and nails, it smells to the people around you and don’t even get me started on second hand smoking.

the friend i’m talking about is in my psych class and smokes very frequently to the point i can smell it on her whenever we meet up. this wouldn’t be an issue in itself as i am trying my best to ignore it and learn to deal with the anxious shakes i get around her, but the issue is that she constantly brings cigarettes and smoking up.

i’ve asked her not to smoke around me if possible and if she needs one i will gladly leave or wait for her in another spot . however when she doesn’t have a smoke or can’t have one for whatever reason she’ll still talk about how she gets cigarettes, how her mum feels about them, how her brother smokes, how she wants one really bad. she’s now switched to talking about how she wants to switch to vapes, which again i still don’t appreciate because it’s still talking about nic to me.

she’s ignored this multiple times despite knowing about my father’s issues. or she’ll talk about it for a long time then go ‘oh sorry, about your dad, i should stop talking about this’. it’s not a big big thing as we only hang out from time to time (mostly on a walk to the bus stop every monday afternoon).

i feel like i’d then be being a dick for saying that i’d appreciate her stopping talking about it while i’ve already asked her to not smoke around me. wibta?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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onsunnyside · 1 year

Note

THE BIG BOY: STUDY BREAK IS THE DEATH OF ME. I LOVED IT.

https://pin.it/3QtHWRQ

^also from that pic, could u consider writing something with ari levinson smoking? i dont really know what, but him smoking has me on my knees as always😽

thank you bestie !! and sure, I've been thinking about stoner!ari lately 🫣 so here's shotgunning with beefy frat!Ari:

He's so pretty, too pretty for your own good. That's why you can barely concentrate on your little crochet project—you're too busy staring at him playing a video game. His long hair all fluffy and soft, beard freshly trimmed and a joint between his lips.

He takes a slow puff, sparing you a glance "You good? You seem a little out of it."

"I'm good, really good..." You say slowly, eyes falling to his thick thighs, his shorts rolled up and exposing the hairy flesh. "Are you good?"

He grins, "yeah. Do you wanna shotgun again?" He isn't even finished asking before you're clambering into his lap, straddling his thighs with your arms around his shoulders. "I'll take that as a yes."

"A big yes." You subtly rock your hips in excitement, "you know, you should record erotic audios. You have the voice for it."

He laughs and takes a slow inhale, setting the joint in the ashtray and pulling you close. Your heart swells when your lips meet, he feels so good—he always feels so good, and you almost forget to open your mouth. The smoke flows from him to you and down to your lungs burning. You lean away to cough, your eyes watering as he hands you a glass of water.

"Why don't we stop for now, yeah?" He asks, rubbing your back, "take a little break and get something to eat?"

"No! Can we just finish this one first?" You beg, giving him the most adorable pout. "Pretty please, daddy? I'll be super good, I promise."

His blue eyes examine you carefully, then he shakes his head, "Fine. Just this one and then we're done for the day. I don't want you to do too much until you're more used to it."

Giddy, you kiss all over his face. His bearded cheeks tickling your lips as you pepper your sweet, sweet love wherever you can reach. "Yay! I love you so much!"

He didn't smoke often, but he was far more experienced than you. He takes the chance to recline on the couch and tilt his head, groaning lowly when your lips trail to his neck. "I'm such a bad influence on you, cub." His fingers dig into your hips, caught between moving you over his bulge or pushing you away. "Since when did you become a troublemaker?"

You were in the living room of the frat house, anyone could walk in and see you cute, dumb and high.

"Whenever you came around." You nip at his jaw, dragging your tongue down the tense veins, "just lookin' at you gets me so wet... feel." You bring his hand between your thighs and firmly against your wet panties, "See? I'm so sticky, daddy... it's so uncomfy, can you help me, please?"

#stoner!ari #sonny drabbles #tw weed #thick frat boy ari #Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson drabble #Ari Levinson au #Ari Levinson smut #Ari Levinson x reader #thick Ari Levinson #thick!Ari Levinson #beefy Ari Levinson #beefy!Ari Levinson #Rugby player Ari Levinson #frat boy Ari Levinson #frat boy!Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson x female reader #Ari Levinson x fem!reader #big boy au

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golatcxr · 2 months

Text

[KomaHina] inhale, exhale

Word count: 1481

Tags: Hurt with Comfort, Mild angst (if you squint), Vaping, Detective AU (though it has almost nothing to do with the storyline), let's pretend that Nagito doesn't have lymphoma it hurts so much please, Subtle confession

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

“I thought you hated smoking?”

The question draws a lazy blink from the white-headed male.

His exhale makes it look like he’s breathing out in the frigid air of winter, yet he is not. The faint smoke swirls, only to be carried away along with the gentle breeze of August. It’s alluring, in a way, if not for the sly smile that’s facing Hinata’s way.

It’s always hard not to stare.

“Maybe, but things have changed I guess.”

Komaeda chuckles bitterly as he closes the lid of his vape pen with an audible pop. “Say, aren’t I pathetic?”

Hinata has never seen him so weary, much less going as far as to damage his own lungs with the thing that he used to despise. Hinata then takes a seat on the tire swing, careful not to fall into its hole. He wonders why many children had the guts to even stand on this thing, but either way, it’s not the children on these swings now.

It’s two detectives, admidst the blueberry scented air.

“Something must have happened, no? Your self-loathing normally doesn’t usually push you this far.” Hinata speaks up softly.

“I half-expected that you would get this wrong, but no, nothing happened. Just me and my same old self.” Komaeda lets out a breathy laugh in response, if it could ever be considered a laugh, that is.

He leans his side against the rusty chain that’s holding the swing upright and slowly turns his head to gaze at his colleague. He smiles.

Hinata has stuck around for long enough to deduct the meanings behind each and every smile Komaeda has thrown his way, though this one doesn’t seem as apparent to him.

“I’m proud of you”, “You’re wrong”, “Thank you”, “What a pity”, …

“?”

Mesmerizing as his green yes are, it’s easier to get lost in his gaze than to decipher them. Hinata’s nose stings a little.

“You’re so hard to read sometimes…”

Hinata doesn’t know when Komaeda has held out a hand towards him.

He gives Komaeda a quick look to confirm whether that hand is supposed to be for him to take in his or not, in the end, he decides to give in.

“I’m impressed by the amount of patience that you have, Hinata-kun.” Hinata can feel Komaeda’s thumb tracing circles on his hand, all cold and dry, as he goes on. “Let me guess, you stormed out in the middle of the night to find me because you found out what under my blanket wasn’t me, correct?”

“Why else would I be here then?” Hinata blurted out almost immediately. To say he was worried was an understatement, but his tiredness has beat him to it.

“Hah… I feel so touched knowing that.” Komaeda sighs quietly.

Hinata wonders if it’s the moon, or if his god-forsakken coworker really looked so relieved after hearing what he has just said. Komaeda has been smiling this whole time and the grip on Hinata’s hand tightens. Hinata opens and closes his mouth a few times but he doesn’t end up saying anything, instead, he stares back into the same pair of eyes that’s looking at him. He has so much to say, but they are all incomprehensible thoughts mushed together in his head. They might even look worse than the amount of work that has once bogged him down when he was working wih the court. But…

Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to have a deep talk with Komaeda?

Where does he even start?

“You want to say something.” Komaeda blankly states, which then successfully catches Hinata’s attention. “You have a habit of druming your fingers or swaying your legs when you’re itching to say something.”

Ah…

Hinata can’t help but feel a little ashamed when his feelings are stripped raw like that. Well, Komaeda is also a detective himself, is he not?

“I knew you wouldn’t scold me from the moment you caught me vaping, Hinata-kun.” He begins. “You wouldn’t scold me for running away from our quarter in the middle of the night, nor would you scold me for indulging in such… detrimental hobby.”

Komaeda’s fingers then shift slightly only to weave them into the rough ones that are within their reach. He continues.

“You know, I was beyond happy when you asked. Such scum like me does not deserve someone like you…” Komaeda trails off as he drifts his gaze down his intertwined hand. “You are observant, but sometimes, I want your eyes to be reserved for me only.”

Despite how quietly Komaeda speaks, the very few things that Hinata can hear are the sound of leaves rustling and the white-headed’s talking. It would be safe to say that this dead of the night adorns Komaeda’s voice so much it’s a far cry from the usual raspy voice that he hears when they are at work or solving a case together. Oh how he wants to put it on replay.

“Komaeda…”

“Look at me.”

Those three words snap Hinata back to locking eyes with Komaeda, only then does he realize that his eyes have wandered anywhere but not the eyes. Komaeda’s body has been way over the thick chain, to the point where he can just fall face-first if he leans a tiny bit more. Hinata quickly pulls his hand up to prevent that from happening.

Komaeda chuckles as he sits up again properly. “I’ve been thinking, when will you finally runs out of patience for me and let go of me?” His smile stays unfazed, although it’s hard to ignore the underlying bitterness of it.

“Will you be fine without me?”

“Better, as in better off dead.” Komaeda talks as if he’s joking around with it, but then again, Hinata knows what it means.

“Don’t tell me this is the reason behind your sudden interest in vaping.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“…”

Hinata brings his free hand up his forehead and heave out a long sigh. He’s conflicted about whether he should give Komaeda a slap across the face, or pull him into his embrace.

Komaeda stands up slowly and makes his way over to Hinata, now towering him. His cloudy locks drops slightly over his pale face as he lifts Hinata’s chin to make eye-contact. Droopy eyelids topping over his grayish green orbs, unlike Hinata’s heterochromatic ones. They look so much more vibrant.

“You have no idea how much your caring gestures mean to me.”

This time, Komaeda’s voice sounds more strained as he starts to caress Hinata’s face. “The way you would always look out for me, the way that you never leave me behind in a mission, everything…”

"It hurts, calling you a friend."

Hinata’s lips part slightly, and Komaeda chuckles at that.

"You get what I mean, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm positive about that."

Komaeda fishes out the vape pen in his pocket and quickly inhales it.

"Open your mouth."

The sudden request takes Hinata by surprise. He hesitates at first, but then complies anyways.

Komaeda holds Hinata's jaw to keep his mouth open and blows the smoke into it. He intentionally keeps he grip on Hinata's face for a brief second before releasing him. Hinata then immediately closes his mouth and coughs out a little, his face burning. The fresh air now smells like blueberry again, he almost forgot that Komaeda had been vaping before he arrived.

"??????"

"Sorry, it's just a way of reminding you of me." Komaeda's grin springs back onto his face as he twirls the vape in his hand.

"You could have just kissed me."

"Too bad I chose not to. Otherwise I'd go wild if you let me."

Komaeda leans his forehead against Hinata's, hands in his pockets so carefreely. The answer he was given to his subtle confession was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. For him, that's enough.

"The next time you feel insecure, you can talk to me." Hinata threads his hand into Komaeda's soft locks and strokes his head gently as he trails off. "I'd be more than willing to lend you an ear."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And don't run away like that again."

"Alright." Komaeda's smile widens as he pulls back a little until their eyes meet again.

At this point, he decides to just shut off kinds of thoughts in his mind and lean in to capture Hinata's lips. It's an hurried kiss, yet it feels like only a split second when they part their lips. He blinks.

"Stay with me, will you?"

"Sure." Hinata finally eases up and return Komaeda's smile. "I was about to say that you should quit vaping, but before that..."

He swiftly pulls the small device out of Komaeda's pocket and holds it up. May be the vape is getting to him as well.

"Mind doing it again?"

"Gladly."

Blueberry scented vape isn't so bad after all, or perhaps it's Komaeda.

I'm back to writing after more than a year of hiatus yipee 😭

#fanart #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa 3 #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #nagito x hajime #fanfiction #fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

Helloooo! I’m here for a request I’ve been brainrotting about for a while. So, we have the reader who is probably a late teen/young adult that’s known Leon basically all their life. So much so that Leon sees them as a younger sibling of sorts.

For the scenario itself, it’s basically just Leon, Ashley, Luis, and Y/N’s chaotic adventures throughout the main storyline. Ex. Luis convinces Y/N to try a smoke which Leon is not happy about

‘C’mon Leon,’ Luis drawled from beside you, ‘why can’t you let y/n experience their first smoke?’ Luis has been tempting you with a cigarette for a while now but each and every time he even dared to bring one out from his pocket; Leon, your surrogate brother at this point, would always tear it straight from his hand and crush it under his boot.

‘Yeah! Why can’t I have a smoke!’ You whined, having become a little spent on how overbearing Leon had became during the entirety of the mission; Always hovering over you, making sure your gun had enough bullets, putting himself before you in cases of imminent danger, and so on.

It was nice at first but overtime you begin to think that maybe Leon didn’t think you capable of taking care of yourself despite knowing firsthand that you could; So why the hell should he care if you ever picked up smoking?

Leon sighed irritably, ‘I’m not going to allow you in destroying your lungs and ruining your life opportunities with those cancer sticks y/n.’ He replied, plucking what felt like the fifth cigarette from Luis’s hand and throwing it elsewhere.

‘Out of everything you could’ve been completely against me doing, you choose smoking?’ You asked, ‘sort your priorities out Leon! I mean you let me fight theses…freaks of nature for a living but god forbid I relieve myself of everyday stresses with the occasional cigarette now and then.’

Leon looked to Luis who had already pulled out another cigarette by this time and managed to set it alight in the midst of your row with Leon, and once he caught on that the male was looking at him as though he was going to shed some light on the situation but he only shrugged his, lifting his hands in the air in defence. ‘They’ve got you there, my friend.’

‘Thanks for the help Luis.’ Leon utters sarcastically.

‘You’re very welcome.’ Luis replied with a drastic bow, making you laugh in the process which made Luis feel accomplished.

Leon then looked back at you, only to see that you were smirking victoriously as though you’ve just won the battle and the war simultaneously. ‘I’m just looking out for your health kiddo.’ He try to reason but was met by a scoff followed by a ‘and how’s that going for you?’ Which warranted you a warning glare from Leon, which dared you to continue challenging him if you keep thinking yourself so smart and see how that would end.

‘There are healthier hobbies to uptake in combating against everyday stress and anxieties but smoking shouldn’t be considered one of them.’ Leon tried telling you but it sounded as though you were being lectured. ‘Do I make myself clear?’ He added, hands on his hips as he awaited expectedly.

‘Yes dad, I’m sure we can all appreciate the life lesson. Can we go and do what we came here to do now you got that off your chest?’ You replied, wanting to get Ashley and get the fuck out of this decrepit village as fast as you could. Staying here as long as you have wasn’t doing any wonders on your mental health.

‘Yeah, I feel light as a feather.’ Leon quipped as Luis looked between you both with raised brows.The looks you both shot at one another were almost identical, from the furrow of your brows to the steely look in your eyes, Luis could’ve been fooled into thinking that he was looking at a mirror; It was humorous in a sort of way.

You and Leon may not be biologically related but you sure acted like you were and that was the funniest part, so much so that Luis couldn’t help but chuckle; almost forgetting for a second that he was in the midst of smoking.

‘What’s so funny?’ You and Leon asked in tandem, which only lead to Luis smirking widely, clearing the smoke from his lungs with a long and drawn out exhale. ‘Oh nothing.’ He replied. You and Leon shared a look before deciding that if you continued the way that you were, nothing would ever get done.

So without another word you, Leon and Luis moved onto the next area. With Leon leading the front while you and Luis lingered behind.

‘Luis, you better put that cigarette back into your pocket before I take your entire pack and shove it up your ass.’ Leon said without looking over his shoulder.

Luis withdrew the cigarette from your hand and put it back into his pocket. ‘Sorry little one, this is my only pack and if I’m to stick with you and Leon throughout the reminder of your mission? I’ll be needing them more then I’ve ever needed them before.’ You pouted but understood none the less.

I hope this was alright, it is within the main frame of the storyline but I must’ve lost myself somewhere…🦦

#resident evil 4 remake #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil imagine #resident evil fic #resident evil #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon keneddy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic

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kingofthering · 8 months

Text

you've heard of shotgunning Rosquez and VR46 Marc? you can now have both

Marc crashes in Japan [yes it pains me to write this after the actual race we had but I need this timeline wise] and it's not gonna cost him Indonesia but it does damage his previously injured hand a litte.

A couple of days after Marc has come back to Madrid, Valentino appears at his front door. He says "I had stuff to do around and I thought I could check up on you" and there are a lot of things going on in Marc's mind when he hears those words but he's too tired to call Valentino out on something he doesn't even understand, so, he just lets Vale in.

When they move to the living room, Valentino finds out about the football game Marc was watching and he apologizes for interrupting him and they end up watching the end of the game together. [And there is Valentino with a smile on his face every time he watches Marc react in Marc fashion to one of the Barça actions, but we don't talk about that.]

After the final whistle, Marc says, "You really didn't have to come, I'm fine."

Valentino looks at the way Marc is flexing his hand -he promises it's more out of habit than anything-, tilts his head to the side, considering him. "Are you on any meds right now?"

Marc shakes his head. "Finished the anti-inflammatories this morning, didn't feel like taking pain medication tonight."

Valentino nods and grabs the jacket he had discarded earlier next to him, pulling a small box out of one of his pockets.

Marc can't say he expected the joint and the lighter that Valentino pulls up in front of him. "Do you mind?"

It's not an offer, not quite. Marc shakes his head again. Valentino gets up to open the large window to their right. When he sits back down, he's much closer to Marc than he was during the game, maybe a meter of space between them.

Valentino lights up his joint and Marc watches the line of his throat as he leans back to blow a heavy cloud of smoke over himself.

"Did you really roll this before coming here? Can you even roll? Don't tell me Uccio did this for you."

That makes Valentino laugh in the middle of a puff and he starts coughing, his voice all fucked up when he says, "Yes, Marc, I can roll. I've been a teenager with time to kill. You can't really use the bike to keep busy at night, so."

Marc's mind is immediately assaulted with the image of young Vale -blue haired Vale or longer hair Vale (he doesn't know which version is the more damaging for his brain right now)- using a grinder with a focused face and licking rolling paper with his tongue.

"It's not like you haven't seen me smoke before," Valentino comments when Marc is fully blanking out on an answer there.

Marc watches as Valentino grabs the now empty beer that he'd grabbed for him earlier during the game and uses it as an ashtray to discard the ashes building at the end of the stick.

"Yeah, I know, I do remember [name of the city that I have to decide at some point]."

"You do?" Valentino's eyebrows go up a little and Marc wants to pull them back down. Don't act surprised, fucker. "I almost thought you didn't considering you never mentionned it again."

Valentino has a smirk proudly sitting on his face. Marc feels hot. The smoke must be getting to him.

Eventually, Valentino takes pity on him and he says, "It's fine," with a smile and yeah, fine, Marc will be even finer if they don't mention that night again, he already had too much trouble trying to stop thinking about it the first time around.

"You've never taken a puff on your own, have you?" Valentino asks when they've both been half watching TV, half smoking (Valentino) or half pretending they're not watching Valentino's face when he pulls on the joint (Marc).

"I think you already know the answer here," Marc chuckles. "Not really interested in trying, don't think I'm ready to cough a lung on you just yet."

He's also fairly sure it would hit him harder than someone else blowing already inhaled smoke back into his mouth. He's been severely drunk around Valentino but high? He's not sure alone with Valentino is the smartest context for that.

Valentino laughs but it's not mocking so Marc can't have said something that silly. He feels observed for a moment, Valentino considering him, and then— "Do you want a shotgun again?"

Marc's survival instinct should probably have him say no.

[Something something about how the last couple of months have him gain trust in Valentino again, Marc thinking about some memories, etc etc. And as things stand, he nods.]

Valentino scoots himself closer and places his left hand on Marc’s neck, thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He almost expects Valentino’s fingers to move -squeeze, rub, pinch; whichever- but they don’t. Marc shivers anyway.

I can stay still on my own, he doesn’t voice outloud.

I trust you, he doesn’t say either.

Marc watches Valentino pull on the joint and he closes his eyes, waits for the impact like he’s just been thrown off his bike from a highside.

He's more ready than the last time and it might have been a decade but Marc's a good student. He opens his mouth when Valentino's lips touch his and he takes a sharp breath in, manages to hold it in for a hot second before he exhales, only coughing once despite the burn in his throat.

When Marc opens his eyes, he finds out that Valentino hasn't moved. He's still close to him, bright blue eyes even more dizzying than they usually already are.

Maybe Marc will blame the drug that has barely been processed by his body at that point. As it is, Valentino’s mouth is right there and Marc has to chase it.

He’s a little too brutal with it, too eager maybe, and their teeth click for a second. Valentino does apply pressure on his neck, then. Marc readjusts.

The next press of his lips to Valentino’s is gentler but still hungry, Marc pushing and Valentino keeping him steady.

[Some more kissing and Marc freezing when they both break apart to take a breath and he realizes what he's been doing.]

"I'm sorry," Marc says while feeling the most mortified he's ever been.

"No you’re fine, don't worry." Valentino tries to reach for his wrist. Marc draws back like he’s been burnt.

"I wasn’t thinking," Marc says, his eyes struggling to find a place to look at. On TV, journalists are still analyzing the game.

"Weed will do that to you," Valentino comments in the most matter-of-factly voice possible. It sounds odd. Marc doesn’t know how to read it.

"Look, is it really a shotgunning session with your friends if you don’t make out with them a little?" Valentino asks. His tone is awkward and Marc’s face is on fire and they still can’t meet each other’s eyes. "I can even make a list of the people this has happened with, if that can make you feel better."

Imagining Valentino kissing other people is the last thing Marc wants to do, what in the actual fuck. He can’t be hallucinating, can he?

"Maybe I should go," Valentino eventually says when Marc’s brain refuses to come back with anything for a long moment. "I have an early plane tomorrow and you need to rest."

"Right."

Valentino grabs his abandoned bottle of beer when he gets up and disappear in the kitchen with in, to dispose of it despite not knowing where the glass trash bin is, Marc assumes.

He closes the open window and stands behind Marc, forcing him to crane his neck around from where he still hasn't left the couch.

"Take care," Valentino says. Marc sees his right hand move, almost expects Valentino to squeeze his shoulder or ruffle his curls, which— silly.

Marc’s heart is still going haywire by the time Valentino has closed his front door. His pulse is throbbing in his hand.

It hurts.

#rpf #valentino rossi #marc marquez #my writing #vr46 marc au #cw drugs #fun fact : I haven't shotgunned in a very hot sec so I had to do some research and I found this discussion from 2009 in a forum #and people were like “I've seen two dudes do it but it was pretty gay”#oh internet #also yeah I refuse to create a gdoc until I have a full timeline ready so tumblr it is for now #we don't talk about how this is 1.4k

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xrollingmyeyesx · 1 year

Text

⌯Memories

Request: “Would you ever consider writing lo’ak calming down reader after they have a panic attack?” + “Can you write where reader has ptsd or smtg.”

⌯ In which you are a warrior who’s seen a lot of death. Lo’ak and his family help you deal with the PTSD, and soon things get better. When you leave to stay with the Metkayina, reckless actions drag you back into old memories.

↝🌸 pairing: Lo’ak x Omatikaya!Reader, Lo’ak x Fem!Reader

↝🌸 warnings: Panic attack, PTSD, death of a family member, angst. Please do not read if you are triggered by gun violence or the loss of a family member to gun violence.

masterlist

↝🌸 notes: I have mild anxiety and panic attacks, so I just wrote this from my own experience and from some research. No smut like I usually write, so I’m not so confident in this, but I hope y’all like it❤

The Elders used to tell stories of the First Great War. They would gather up the young children and sit them in a circle. They told stories of fire and death and destruction. They told of the monstrosities that occurred at the hands of the Sky People; how Na’vi were slaughtered for defending their home. They told of the human’s greed. The stories remind us of what the sky People did.

The Elders tell the stories so that The People never forget.

For years, almost two decades, they were just stories to you; Memories of a time long before you were born. Sure, they were true events, and yes, it was horrible, but the war was over. The People were at peace and you had no reason to worry.

But peace cannot last forever.

You were out in the forest hunting when the Sky People returned. The stars in the sky grew, their blinding light shattering the dark night. Massive ships descended with a mechanical screech. Their machines tore through the forest, setting everything ablaze. You remember choking on the dark smoke, your lungs burning as you sprinted for safety. You remember crying when you looked back at the damage. It felt like they had torn out a part of your soul, creating a hole in its wake.

When the Second War came, you fought beside your brothers and sisters. You were a good warrior and dedicated to the cause. You quickly grew to be a leader amongst the fighters, even sitting in on strategy meetings with the Olo’eyktan. So many of The People were lost, so much land destroyed. You tried to keep your spirit up, but over time you lost your happy demeanor.

In the course of one year, you were forced to watch the people you loved die.

One by one it happened, like the RDA was intentionally picking on you. Everyone had lost someone, but why did you have to lose everyone? Your parents, your sister, your best friend. Pieces of your heart and your sanity chipped away, bit by bit.

Their deaths weighed on you, and you withdrew from the clan. You had no family to go home to, no friends to talk to. No one seemed to want to be around you, and you couldn’t blame them. You were a magnet for death, destined to be a sole survivor. You stopped going to evening meals and you barely slept.

It was hard to sleep when you saw the dead behind your eyelids.

Lo’ak was the one person who you could talk to. He found you one night outside your family's old home. You had been so distant from him, stuck in your own head. The two of you had always been close friends and he worried about you.

“Y/n?” He whispered as he lowered himself to sit beside you. You were staring off into the distance, your eyes blank. He laid a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not going to ask if you are okay, because I know you are not. But please, let me take some of this burden.”

Your knees were pulled up to your chest, your arms hugging them, as you turned to look at him. He had watched you lately, and it was like you were withering away right in front of his eyes.

“I just,” His voice cracked. “I know it is hard, I do. Just…please talk to me.”

Your eyes watered as you tried to hold back the emotions. Your voice was scratchy from going unused. “I cannot stop seeing them.”

You met his eyes. “I see my sister in the other children, how she used to run around, carefree, just like them.” Your voice picked up as tears fell down your face. “Sometimes I learn something new and I-” You stumbled over the words. “I turn to tell my mom, and she’s not there.”

“Oh, y/n,” Lo’ak whispered sadly.

You continued as if you didn't hear him. “Sometimes I think I see my dad, but when I turn to look for him he is gone.” You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Eywa is punishing me. I keep getting these, these things. Episodes where I am stuck rewatching their deaths.”

Lo’ak pulled you closer to him, draping his arms over your shoulders. You shook as tears racked through your body. You were so, so tired. “I cannot even sleep, Lo’ak. I’m the reason they’re dead and they haunt me for it.”

His grip tightened, pressing your face to his broad chest. “It’s okay, It’s okay. Their deaths are not your fault.” He felt himself getting emotional at seeing you so distraught. “They live within Eywa, they are not gone.”

“But they feel gone!” Your voice cracked at the sudden shout. “No one else feels the way I do. Something is wrong with me, Lo’ak.” You sounded as if you had given up all hope.

“It is okay to feel these things. It’s normal after seeing so much.” He reassured you, his hand rubbing your shoulders. He hated that you had been dealing with these emotions alone for so long.

Your cheek was squished against his chest, your tears marking his skin. “I don't know how to make them stop.”

Your words were barely a whisper. Lo’ak kissed the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “We can figure out a way. Some method of coping. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

And you didn’t do it alone anymore. That night was the first time you slept in the Sully's hammock. They let you stay with them and you became part of their family. You grew close to their kids, and even considered Tuk and Kiri your sisters.

The family quickly learned of your night terrors. Sometimes you didn’t move, frozen in terror as you screamed out for help in your sleep. Other times, they found you thrashing wildly on your sleeping mat. Jake tried to wake you once, attempted to calm you, but you fought him in your sleep. You tried apologizing the next day, but he wouldn’t have it. He told you that it was called PTSD, something you get after a traumatic event. He explained that he used to have it from his war on Earth. Jake said you might heal someday, but that it was hard.

A couple weeks later, Lo’ak was the one rushing to your aid at night. He slid onto the mat beside you and wrapped his strong arms around you. Something about the pressure calmed your thrashing. He stayed there, whispering words of comfort against your ear until your body relaxed against his. The family realized soon after that Lo’ak was the only one able to calm you. He woke every night to repeat the motions, and at some point they decided it was just easier for him to sleep next to you. The family grew used to you sleeping on the same mat, your back to his chest.

His presence helped, and over time the terrors started to wane. You were able to go weeks without them, and everyone slept much better. Lo’ak was always there when you needed him. Despite your problems, he accepted you and helped you work through it. You guys worked out a method of bringing you out of panic attacks, and it worked.

Lo’ak was your rock. He kept you safe from yourself, grounding you in your moments of weakness. He was the calm in the middle of a storm, the light in the darkness. You spent months slowly falling in love with him.

The two of you spent a lot of time together, gathering or just talking walks in the forest. He accompanied you to the spirit tree most of the time, to support you in your efforts to see your family.

You were leading him there now, but had different plans for your evening. You stopped at the tree and faced him, the soft glow of the Spirit Tree casting light over his face. “Lo’ak,” You reached to press a hand against his cheek. “You have always been there for me, always cared for me. You accepted me for who I am, flaws and all.

“You deserve to have someone take care of you, tihona.” Cuteness. You smiled at the nickname. It was something he’d started to call you, and you often found yourself blushing at it. “And you do not have any flaws, not to me.” He said that part softly, his eyes locked on yours.

Lo’ak had known for a while that he loved you, but had yet to say anything. He didn't want you to think he was only helping you heal because he wanted something out of it. He needed to make sure you felt the same.

“You are everything.” He said, leaning close. “Everything to me.”

“Lo’ak,” You whispered, glancing at his lips.

He didn't need to hear more, instead pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, and gentle. Lo’ak pulled you into his body by the waist. He had waited so long to feel the press of your lips against his. When you pulled back for air, he finally said the words that had been aching to leave his mouth.

“I See you.”

“I See you, Lo’ak.” You answered.

....

A couple months into you and Lo’ak’s relationship, your life was uprooted. Sky People had built avatars and were using them to hunt down the Sullys. After an extremely close call, Jake made the decision to take his family and leave. No one questioned if you were going along. You had no one in your life, and you and Lo’ak were promised to each other. You weren’t mated yet, but there was no question that you would leave with him.

It was difficult to convince the Metkayina to let you stay, but Jake assured them that all of you would adapt. You worked with the kids of the Olo’eyktan to learn their ways, and grew to be friends with them. Lo’ak and Neteyam had a rocky start with Aonung, but they too settled into friendship with him.

No one knew of your past or looked at you with pity. It was a new start. Tsireya was a close friend, her honesty and positive attitude reminded you of your sister, and you enjoyed her spark of life. Aonung was decent too, the two of you often sparring together. Life in Awa’atlu was growing on you. You opened up more and the Sully family began to see you shift towards the happy girl they knew before the war.

Your group of friends often spent the day together, chasing each other around the island and playing stupid games. You were doing that now, sitting in a circle inside the Sully pod. Kiri called the game “Truth or Dare.” She sat to your left and Lo’ak to your right, his knee pressed to yours. The simple touch made your skin heat, and you found yourself blushing anytime his eyes found yours.

“Okay….truth or dare, Rotxo.” Tsireya said, eyes twinkling mischievously.

He rolled his eyes. “Dare, obviously.” Rotxo always chose dare. He claimed it was “manly.”

“I dare you to kiss Kiri.” Tsireya said smugly. Her words elicited a blush from both Rotxo and Kiri, the latter tapping her fingers on her leg nervously. “Unless you do not want to.”

You knew that both of them liked the other, and chuckled at Tsireya’s matchmaker tendencies.

“No, no, I want to.” The words rushed from Rotxo's mouth, causing the rest of you to laugh at his awkwardness. He sat beside Kiri, so neither needed to move to complete the dare. Their lips pressed together quickly, and then they both yanked their heads away. The rest of you laughed at their antics, Neteyam and Aonung teasing them.

Giggling, you turned to Lo’ak. “They would make a cute couple, huh?”

He smirked, his four fingered hand coming to rest on your knee. “Not cuter than us.” You smiled up at him, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Guys look!” You turn your head to see Aonung digging through stuff in the corner.

“Aonung, you should not be going through their stuff!” His sister scolded. At her words, you turned back to the group.

“I found a gun!” The boy spun around, Jake’s gun in his hand. Sunlight glinted off the metal, and you froze at the sight of it.

“Hey, put that down.” Neteyam demanded, strutting over to Aonung. “That is not a toy.”

Aonung didn’t listen, instead bringing the scope up to his eyes. “This is so cool. How many people has your dad shot?”

The older boys continued to argue over the weapon, Neteyam tugging at Aonung’s arm. A dull whine was starting to build up behind your ears and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. You placed a hand over it and looked over to Lo’ak, who was already watching you intensely. His brows were furrowed in worry, and he grabbed your hand.

“It’s okay,” He said to you under his breath, before addressing the fighting boys. “Seriously Aonung, stop. You do not know how dangerous those are, you can’t just go playing with it.”

The situation shouldn’t make you as nervous as it does. Yes, it’s a weapon, but you’ve been around plenty of weapons. You’ve been around guns many times, Jake even keeps one around constantly. But right now all you can focus on is the dark metal of the gun and Aonung’s finger by the trigger.

Aonung either didn’t hear Lo’ak or pretended not to hear, because he continued fighting with Neteyam. He was trying to keep it away while Neteyam reached over his shoulders for it. “Skxawng, give it he–”

Pop. Pop.

The crack of the gun firing made you flinch as everyone around you ducked for cover. It’s a blessing that Aonung’s recklessness had not left anyone injured. Instead, there are two holes in the floor of the marui pod. The room is silent for a moment, before everyone starts to raise their voice at the culprit. They’re yelling and he’s defending himself and Lo’ak is saying your name.

The sound of the gun firing replays in your head, over and over.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

You could never describe to Lo’ak what the attacks felt like; You were never able to put the feelings into words. The only way you could describe it was like this horrible, terrifying feeling that took over your entire body. It was like every single nerve in your body was crying out in fear. The flashbacks were the worst. They felt like someone holding your head underwater, forcing you to watch but unable to help.

You’re not in Awa’atlu. You’re back home in the field where your parents died.

The sound of a crash was followed quickly by the shouts and war cries of your party. You were attacking a shipping convoy and had just blasted the train off the tracks. You led the ground troops, directing them to get the supplies and get out quickly.

“Incoming!” Jake’s voice is heard over all the chatter and the groaning of burning metal.

Two gunships round the corner, their guns trained on the team. “Take cover!” You shout, ducking behind a piece of debris. The sound of rapid shots rings out.

When it’s over and the gun ship has moved on, you stand to assess the damage. You see your parents a few yards away, and watch as they start to walk towards you, their arms loaded with supplies. They don’t see the second gunship turning back.

You sprint towards them, jumping over obstacles and yelling for them to run. The words had barely left your mouth when the gunship fired. You watch as the ship litters their bodies with bullet holes, right in front of you. Their faces were twisted in shock and pain. You stumble as you run for them. Their bodies fall to the ground, supplies scattering. By the time you make it to them, they are long gone. You run your hands over your mom’s body, trying to stop the bleeding somehow. But it’s impossible; There are too many wounds.

The gunship had come back and was gearing up to shoot again when someone's hands dragged you to your feet. “Y/n! We gotta go, we gotta go!”

“I can’t leave them!” You try to grasp onto their bodies, to stay with them, but Lo’ak is dragging you by your arms. You fought him and he was forced to half-drag, half-carry you away.

You blink and the scene changes, becoming the familiar green and browns of the forest.

“Do you see anything?”

You groan. “Nothing is happening at this post.”

You and your best friend, Ok’iye, are on a recon mission to scout one of the Sky People’s outposts. You’ve been there for a few hours already and have yet to see anything worth taking back to Jake.

Ok’iye lays beside you as you hid in the foliage. You lay on your stomach with binoculars held to your eyes as he looked through the scope of a gun.

“Ok’iye, what are we even looking for?” You question, turning to face him.

He glances over to you, a grin on his mischievous face. “I think Jake is pranking us, because there isn't–”

A dark splotch appears in the center of his forehead. His blood and flesh splatter across your face and chest. His blood is warm and you can taste it on your lips. His smiling face goes slack as blood flows out, marring his dark blue skin. It all happened so fast, and you duck down to hide from whoever is shooting at you. You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually the day turned to night. You laid there next to his body for hours, cowered in fear.

Once you are sure it is safe to leave, you start making your way home, Ok’iye’s lifeless form over your shoulder. You couldn’t leave him, you would say to yourself. He needed a proper ceremony so he could return to the Great Mother.

You carried him for 2 hours. You didn’t cry for him or mourn him. You were just kind of… numb.

Later, Jake told you that it was something called shock, your body’s way of protecting you from the pain.

Sometimes you can still taste Ok’iye’s blood.

The scene shifts again. You’re still in the forest, but now you're in a meadow and the sun shines brightly.

You walk through the meadow, your little sister on your heels. Sey’ax is a curious kid, and she likes to tag along with you when you scavenge.

“Okay, stay in the meadow so I can keep an eye on you.” You order, an endearing smile on your face.

“I know, tsmuke!” The girl laughs at you before running off towards the creek to play.

You hadn’t thought twice about bringing her along. You did it all the time and this was safe territory. You walk through the forest, gathering berries and other materials. You can hear her laughter a few yards away, and smile to yourself as you pop a paskalin berry in your mouth.

You didn't see the human soldiers coming. You didn’t know they were there until you heard the familiar screech of a bullet leaving the chamber of a gun.

You drop your basket, fear squeezing your heart as you sprint to where you last saw her. You find Sey’ax’s lying face up in the stream, her laughter long gone.

“Oh no, no, no!” You fall to your knees, rocks digging into the soft flesh as you sob over her. Sey’ax’s blood turns the water red and it swirls around you. She is barely conscious as you cradle her in your arms. “You are okay, Sey’ax. I will get you to Mo’at.” Your throat is dry, tears spilling down your face.

“Tsmuke, help me.” She pleads, her voice a ragged sigh. Her last breath is used to ask you, her big sister, for help, and yet you can do nothing but watch as the light leaves her gold eyes. You hold her to you, begging the Great Mother to not take her, to not take the last person you had.

The Sky People had shot her, a child, for nothing. She did not attack them, she had nothing to give them, and yet they murdered her. Your cries echo around the clearing. When you look down at your baby sister, you find your hands stained red with blood.

She was a child.

••••

To you it felt like hours, like you were really living those days over again, but it was only a few minutes. At first, Lo’ak couldn't tell if you were having an attack or if you were just shocked. You stared unblinking at the hole in the floor.

“tihona? Y/n, talk to me.” He shuffled to kneel in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. His voice sounded muffled, like he was talking to you through water. You were unresponsive to his words, which quickly grew the attention of the other teens.

Kiri lifted a hand to cover her mouth. The whole family knew of your past and the episodes of sudden panic you got, but she was surprised nonetheless. You hadn’t had one in so long. Kiri had finally started to think you were healing.

She came to your side, holding your hand. “Y/n, you’re okay.”

The words may have sounded comforting to her, but in your head her voice sounded like Sey’ax. Your skin felt hot, like there were real flames searing into your flesh. You heard what you thought was your sister's voice and panicked. “No, no, no, no.”

The group watched as you lashed out. Your hands came up to your ears, trying to keep the haunting sound of her voice out of your head.

“Hey, it’s okay. You are okay.” Lo’ak’s voice filtered through, and he briefly came into your eyesight, but then his face morphed into Ok’iye’s. The wound on his face dripped blood, trailing down and into his eyes and mouth.

You can feel his blood, warm against your face, and claw at it desperately, trying to scrape it off. “No, no, no, no. Go away!” The words are a jumbled mix, some kind of mix between a groan and a wail. “Go away!”

Lo’ak grabbed your wrists, holding them so you couldn’t injure yourself. You caught his chin with your nails, leaving an angry, red welt in your wake.

Tsireya cried out as she watched. “What is wrong with her?”

Rotxo and Aonung stood close by, their faces an ashy white as they stared. Neteyam growled under his breath, protective of the girl who had become a sister to him. “This is your fault!” He pointed a finger at Aonung, poking him in the chest.

Their voices reminded Lo’ak that there was an audience. “Get out! You all need to leave.” You thrashed in his arms with tears rolling down your face. Your mouth was parted, but no sound came out, only gasps for air. “Seriously, Neteyam, get them out of here.”

The older boy jumped into action, hastily ushering everyone out of the pod. “Is she going to be okay?” Tsireya asked Kiri, her own eyes watering at seeing you so distraught. Their voices were muffled as Neteyam led them from the home.

“Y/n, I need you to breathe.” Lo’ak pleaded. His pulse raced but he did his best to maintain a calm composure for your sake. You weren't taking in any air, and he was scared you'd pass out. “Breathe, tihona, please.”

Helplessness and overwhelming fear made your body shake. Lo’ak maneuvered himself behind you, sitting you in between his legs, so he could wrap his arms around you. Not only did it allow him to apply pressure, which would help, but it was also able to keep you from hurting yourself further.

Your head was foggy, and it felt like you were floating. It was a cold and empty feeling. A faraway voice filtered through. “Y/n. Come on.” It said, “You are not there. It’s not real.”

I'm not there.

“Come back to me, it’s okay. You are okay.”

You tried to focus on Lo’ak’s voice, to center yourself. Your eyes drifted around the room, but your vision tunneled as you searched for him. “Lo’ak.” You whimpered, voice barely audible.

“I am right here, my love. I got you.” He cooed. Your heart beat erratically and you were gasping for air.

“No,” You cried out, twisting in his hold.

“It is Lo’ak,” He said, rocking you gently. “You aren’t there, y/n.”

“Lo’ak?” You repeated, crying out for him.

Lo’ak started leading you through the steps. “Count from 5, okay? I’ll do it with you. Mrr,” he started.

You copied him. “Mrr.” 5

“Tsing.” 4

“Tsing.”

Your breathing began to become less erratic as you counted. Slowly, your senses were starting to come back to you, piece by piece.

He ran his hands over your arms comfortingly and spoke softly. “Tell me something you can see.”

You looked around the room, your gaze finding a blue blanket in the corner. “A blanket.”

“Good, you are doing so good.” He cooed. “Tell me something you can smell.”

You inhale softly through your nose, welcoming the strong scent of the communal fires in the village. “Fires.”

“Good, good. Something you can feel.”

You shifted a bit in his hold, your breathing finally back to normal. Your head ached, but it was normal after an attack. You leaned back against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart against your back. “I feel your heart.”

Lo’ak hummed behind you. No longer were you buried in flashbacks, but they left their toll on your body. You feel weak, emotionally and physically, and you want nothing more than to just fall asleep. It’s a bone deep tiredness, and settles into the corners of your mind and your body.

As you came down, you started to cry again, this time softly. You were mortified that you had regressed so much, and even more embarrassed that your friends had been there to see it. They must think I’m a monster, you thought. It only made you cry more.

“Oh, hona,” Lo’ak sighed. “I got you, I got you.”

“I am sorry, I am so sorry.” You mumbled, hating yourself. You hated doing this to him. You felt like a constant burden on him and his family. How could he possibly love you? You were broken, you thought.

“Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry for. Everything is okay.”

Lo’ak held you for a long time. He knew that you needed time to process and recuperate. He had seen you sleep for days after an attack, and wasn’t surprised when you started to drift off.

He moved you to lay down, leaning over to grab a blanket for the both of you. Lo’ak draped it over you, and cuddled into your resting body.

He thought for a long time about the two of you. You had such a hard life before and you had lost so much. Your pain felt like his pain. He wished he could bear the pain for you.

He prayed that he could keep you safe, but knew deep down that he could not protect you from your own memories.

••••

Later, his father and the rest of the family filtered into the pod for the night. “She okay, son?” Jake asked, concerned etched on his face.

“Yeah,” Lo’ak answered. “She’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Tag List

@lovely-turned-deadly@neteyamsgirll @strnqer @attlas567 @maria-1287 @erodastylinson @ihrtchickpeas @fucksnow @grimes-gf @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @rainbowsocks @neteyamzmate @generalflapnickelbear @ellielovesrobinarellano @lovemyself-persona @alovingelf @sully-stick-together @whos3rn @meepmeepbark @amberofzo @melsunshine @astroponyo @tanchosanke @lizziesfirstwife @yeosxxx @seasonedcapsicum @kadu-5607 @eringaitskill @doulcha @nijha2tact @shydestinypeach @ani-girl @midnight-star47 @instabull @silententhusiastdreamer @ilymarkchan @neteyamoa @kaiya3333 @lynbubble @bakugounuggets @primadonnagal-blog @taintedxkisses @hirokosoul @kyrah-williams @genshinimpactislife @erika-simps @summe-rliu @urfavbrunettebish @bbylime @ricecakeslove @lovesickbtch @idcalol @hotmarveladdict @axionn @orinlin @pikuposts @corrupt-cadaver420 @torchbearerkyle @luvlykrispy @elli-aesthetics @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @raven1234321 @lunamochii @scarletrosesposts @lolzies11 @lilithdonahue @jjkclub @zoeoii @softhetixx @heesoftiefreak @c78r @ripneteyam @tiddybiddy @findingourtreasure @traveleraroundsworld @aonungs-tsahik @gyriffndorkate @iikatsukii @euhmae25 @chloelmao67 @gracefulbumblebee @lovergyal @nao-cchi @goodiesinthecloset21 @sharni07 @hangezoes-wife @neteyamsmate4life @hopelesslydevotedloser @carolinemacher @whyloakkinda @riverlikethelake @in-luvais @katsukisdaddy @tsireyassgurl @justhavingsomefun @sullymenrhot @midnightsnakesstuff @bbyhargrove @ohmsjedi @zendayaswrld101 @neteyamsgirl @laylasbunbunny @lichik @sakurayuki8655-blog @vevethirst @mangogloss-blog @eatassskatefast12 @liyahsocorro @kaealowri @leftbreadparadise @ihatecats123 @selinbaskaya @regulus-black-223048 @itssiaaax @kachowness @lov3rluna

#loak x reader #pls read tw #loak sully #tw blood #angst #violence #panic attack #parental loss tw #loss of a sibling #loak x y/n #lo'ak x reader #ptsd #sad #graphic #tw gun violence

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marmorafarms · 1 year

Text

So I got some sfw Sebastian head canons to share. I'm curious what you guys think!

My first hc is that Sebby is mixed race. More specifically, white and east Asain. Even MORE specifically, he has Japanese heritage.

He doesn't dye his hair, it is naturally black.

Definitely a pot smoker based on Robin's canon dialog, as well as what looks like a bong in his spouse room. Is it an empty vase? Maybe. But I'm not convinced.

Switches to edibles when you point out that smoking pot is not healthy for your lungs either.

As soon as he finds a helmet small enough, he puts it on your child and takes them for rides on his motorcycle. My grandpa took me on motorcycle rides starting at age 7 so don't say this isn't possible.

While Sebastian might shit talk Maru on the regular, he actually has a good relationship with her. They aren't best friend siblings, but they know they can count on the other no matter what.

Once he no longer lives with Demetrius, he manages to form a sort of kind of friendship with him.

Sebastian's dad died when he was a baby. He was killed by a drunk driver. This is why two of Sebastian's hated items are beer and wine.

He was weirded out by you calling him "Sebby" since it's a childhood nickname. But he grew to love you calling him by that name.

In fact, if you call him Sebastian instead of Sebby, he assumes you're either mad at him, or had a bad day. Or maybe both. He'll ask about it though, and the majority of the time you were in a perfectly good mood, you just felt like using his whole name.

He is good at communicating. Yes he has anxiety, but his mom drilled the power of communication into his skull, so he knows it's important.

He makes an attempt at learning to cook, and doubles down when you have kids. He looked up how to make homemade baby food, and always uses your fresh produce to do so.

He pretends to hate being called a "house husband" but actually really likes it.

His Solarian Chronicals character is a mage who is also a Lizardfolk. He picked this combination solely because he wanted to call himself a Lizard Wizard as much as possible.

He FaceTimes Sam every night. You tease him about Sam being his secret boyfriend. Sam says "who said it was a secret?" Sebastian did not appreciate this, but wasn't actually mad.

He is the first to apologize after a fight.

Calls you his sweet baby frog as a pet name. Everyone except for you finds this strange. But considering his love for frogs, you are extremely flattered.

And that's all I have for right now! Let me know what you think!

#stardew valley #stardew #sdv #stardew sebastian #stardew headcanon #sdv headcanons

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beardedmrbean · 2 months

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Is it just me that thinks there's something fishy as hell with e-cigarette bans ?

I've never smoked or vaped in my life, but every time I hear about a new vaping ban it's always the same thing, "vaping is harmful" and "kids are using it as a gateway drug to real cigarettes". And considering the studies linked always list deaths in the hundreds, compared to millions of deaths from tobacco every year, it just seems like flimsy evidence to me.

Seems like the best thing to do would be to ban tobacco then, but unlike vaping bans where half the world has already completely banned them, the strictest smoking laws I've seen only restrict smoking indoors and outside some public spaces. As far as I know, no country has completely banned cigarettes.

Idk, it just feels like we're seeing corruption happen right in front of our eyes.

We're always seeing corruption happen right in front of our eyes, just might not be identifying it when we do.

E-Cigarette thing is a weird one though, popped up a thing from the UK yesterday handing them out resulted in a 50% increase in people successfully quitting smoking,

Giving out free vapes in A&E helped to double the number of people that quit smoking cigarettes, a trial has found.

Even more my bad, nearly 24% that got the vape starter pack and referral to quitting service did so.

Then there's China that has a state monopoly on cigarettes so they encourage people to smoke, but not directly.

For states and such it'll be a hit on the tax revenue that it will take a while to see reverse, but it eventually will start saving the place money in lower hospital and healthcare so encouraging not smoking is the long run winner, people don't think that way lately for some reason.

The bans on them are weird, yes zoomers were on their way to beating the addiction to nicotine until they made it taste like mango.

All that said the only significant number of deaths or injuries I've seen coming from vapes is from people that get the bootleg juice for them that some dude over on the corner makes and sells cheaper than that stuff you get at the shop and he doesn't check ID's either.

And that's already illegal.

As far as I know, no country has completely banned cigarettes.

New Zealand Scraps World's First Generational Smoking Ban

Dang it they were going to be my GO-TO for this, anyone born this century was too young to buy cigarettes was the law, not shocked it got scrapped even in not the US there's still people that believe in the freedom to live your life as you choose and enough of them to get in the way of a law like that.

Big tobacco in the US has managed to diversify enough that they don't need to fight vaping, since they're making money off of it, vape thing if there's a conspiracy it's probably people that just have no clue and think the posts they see on facebook about a kid who's lungs looked to be full of silicone from vaping either actually happened or is the normal result of vaping or both.

As far as things that shouldn't be banned go, vape stuff is pretty high up there and the benefits outweigh the risks a whole lot in the long run.

At least provide they don't find out in 25 years that it alters your DNA and will cause a 2nd head to grow out of your shoulder and now we've got a whole lot of new contestants for the Zaphod Beeblebrox lookalike competition.

Which would be weird.

#givrally

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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years

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was there any development on the concepts of antoni burning himself while cooking or having the noncon revealed ?

no pressure though !!!! the current arc is Very Much Cool !! i am just the king of the antoni love club

CW: Burn whump, PTSD, referenced past noncon, implied victim-blaming

"So I heard a thing today."

Antoni is already on edge. There's a bandage wrapped around his hand, covering the red smear burned just behind his knuckles. He'd reached out to grab something using a towel instead of an oven mitt. The press of his hand against the top of the oven had made him drop the finished salmon all over the floor. Even after cleaning and cleaning while his hand throbbed and his eyes stung with the memory of smoke, he still smells fish.

So when Kauri walks in and starts speaking, he can't quite stop the way his arms and legs lock in tension. He nods, though, looking down at the bandage.

The burn, slathered in antibiotic and a burn cream beneath the gauze and adhesive wrap, stings, prickles in time with his heartbeat. Soon enough, he thinks, it will start itching.

"What did you hear, Kasha?" He sounds tired, even to himself. Kauri, though, looks preoccupied, less observant than usual. Antoni watches through his fringe of dark hair as Kauri drops into a kitchen chair across from him, fingertips drumming a beat on the table top.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, first off," Kauri says.

Antoni smiles, a little wryly. "I did not ask if you were."

"No, I know, but... I just wanted to say." Kauri's wedding ring, the simple platinum band, catches the light on his left ring finger. Antoni glances down at where his own matching one peeks out just above the edge of the bandage wrap. "That I didn't eavesdrop. But... So. You know Jameson came over to see Allyn..."

"I do know that, yes. If they do not want to be heard, they will need to consider trying to be quiet."

Kauri laughs, throwing his head back, and Antoni watches the way his curls move wild around his face, the line of his throat in the yellowed kitchen lighting, with nothing short of adoration. "That's the fucking truth. But, no. I just heard them talking, is all. And Jameson was telling Allyn... Well." The smile fades from Kauri's face.

Antoni's does, too, in an echo of Kauri's sudden concern. "What?"

His fingers twitch. The kitchen smells like salmon and clove cigarettes and only one of those smells is real. Cologne lingers underneath, cologne he never smelled before Mr. Davies and has never smelled since either.

"Kasha-"

"Why didn't you tell us that it happened to you, too?"

Antoni freezes, inside and out. "What?"

"Jameson said you told him once that-... That it wasn't just the burns. That you were... Why didn't you tell Jake and I you were... That-"

"Because I was not." Antoni stands, abrupt enough to see Kauri catch himself in an instinctive wince backwards from the possibility of violence. There's guilt, but it's buried too deeply beneath the surge of-

Shame? Terror? Little more than a terrible exhaustion? He doesn't know what the feeling is. Maybe all of those things.

"Antoni-"

"It did not happen to me. He did not understand." His hand aches worse with each throb of his pulse. He can't breathe for the smoke. "It did not happen-"

"It did, though." Kauri stays where he is, hands flat on the table where Antoni can see them. "Didn't it? You told Jameson. Why didn't you tell me? Or, or Jake, or..."

Antoni's jaw works, and his teeth grind together. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, deep breath. Holds it until his lungs feel like they will burst. Exhales as slowly as he can and does it again.

"What occurred in that house," He says, carefully sounding out each word, fighting his body's rising shame and panic, "Is not for my life now."

He'll choke on the smoke and Mr. Davies's hands in his hair.

"Antoni, I-I didn't mean to hurt you by bringing it up but-"

"Mean to or not, you should not have. My wounds are mine, Kauri, not yours."

Kauri swallows, his eyes glimmering, but Antoni tells himself they are marbles, not love covering itself with tears in the face of his cold rejection. "I'm sorry," He whispers. "It's just-... I wondered why he knows but you didn't-"

"Because I do not care about him. And I cared about you."

Kauri's mouth opens. Closes again. He manages, in a whisper, "Cared? P-past tense?"

Antoni is silent, the seconds ticking away between them. "Kasha... Do not make this about your feeling. I cannot-... do that right now. Listen to me. Nothing happened, and what did, it was not the same-"

"No, because-... Because getting the shit burned out of you sucks but at least you weren't somebody's paid-for slut, huh?" It's Kauri's turn to stand.

Antoni groans. "Nyet, that is not what I mean-"

"Mean to or not," Kauri echoes his earlier words, mockingly, "That's what you just said!"

"That is not what I said!"

"I just want to know why you would tell someone else but not me or Jake, when we're, when we love you and we're supposed to know everything about each other!"

His whole arm aches now. Antoni's breath comes in gasps and his pulse pounds in his ears and temples, the rush of blood drowning out everything else. "You do not know me so well as you think."

"Clearly I don't!"

"Kauri, stop. Will you not just stop?! I do not want to hear your words right now!"

Kauri's jaw snaps shut.

"Thank you. I will say this. I told Jameson in confidence. And I did not tell you, or Jasha, and that was my choice not to tell. I am sorry it hurt you that you did not know. Do not ask me again."

"Ant-"

"I am ashamed of what was done to me. Is that not enough? Must you make it worse?"

"I-I didn't mean-... You don't have to be ashamed of-"

"Yes, I do! It was shameful!"

Kauri's face burns bright red. "Don't say that. I, I don't need to be ashamed-"

"Stop it! Stop. This is not about you. Not everything on earth is about you. This conversation ends now."

"Antoni-"

"I said it ends." Antoni walks away and leaves him there, knowing a sudden silence and absence will hurt Kauri far worse than any fight ever could. Knowing that his fears of being thrown aside for being difficult linger. Knowing that being abandoned or unwanted is the deepest terror Kauri can conceive of.

Knowing he is lashing out because he is drowning and he could ask for help or to be held and yet he swallows down apologies.

He walks away anyway.

His chest burns, and his hand aches, and he can feel a hand on the back of his head, a low voice in silk and whiskey whispering, take it deeper, love, you can do it. Choke on it.

Antoni whispers, "It did not happen, it did not happen to me, it did not happen, not to me, not to me-"

He goes into his room, locks the door, and falls into his bed, eyes closed. He hears, dimly, the sound of Kauri crying as he walks down the hall to the big bedroom, slamming the door himself.

He tells himself he doesn't care.

He feels the brush of smoke against his skin.

There's a good boy, love. A little deeper. Choke on what I've made you do.

Choke on who I'll make you hurt.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @autophagay

#antoni sings lullabies #erase to control #whump #pet whump #box boy universe #bbu #box boy #intimate whumper #sadistic whumper #ptsd tw #trauma recovery #recovery whump #writing #internalized victim blaming

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