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Im In Love With Him - Blog Posts
Another day, another part of me falling in love with someone I can never have. 👍(Ngl I'm kind of obsessed with this guy-)
His birthday is on the same day I start my first day of High School. I suddenly feel better about going to a makeshift prison!
oh god this has me going absolutely feral, ugh what i would give to have sam fuck me like this-
Training Day
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: Sam Wilson x woc!reader
Summary: The one where training with Sam leads to other things
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: look….it’s smut. choking, semi public sex, female receiving oral, spanking (once really) unprotected sex (wrap it before they tap it), creampie, daddy kink (just the name used once), size kink because sam was so gd beefy in tfatws and it makes me feral
A/N: SAM WILSON PIN ME TO THE WALL CHALLENGE. This one goes out to my main Samhoes @ritesofreverie & @certainaesthetic This is obviously set after TFATWS so Sam is Captain America (AS HE SHOULD BE). The divider is by @firefly-graphics
DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.
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one of my favoritest things about mammon that i dont see get talked about a enough is that the devildom is dark 100% of the time yet mammon wears sunglasses with his casual outfit and up in the human world he complains about how bright the sun is yet his sunglasses are nowhere to be seen
hes so gongeous gongeous
The distortion of Michael Shelly
(Please click for better quality tumblr has made it so ass)
oh so you’re the perfect man for me?? oh okay, yeah
MY BABY IDIA THAT YOU??? IT IS
Sanrio x Twisted wonderland 🎉
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! death, a ton of angst. reader mourns stu's death, writes him a letter to help the grieving process, cussing.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended. I love writing angst and this was a great fic idea
stu x gn!reader
When you first found out about stu's death, you didnt believe it. you couldn't believe it. it just wasnt possible.
until the next day at school, when you didnt see stu, billy, or tatum, and sidney and randy both refused to talk to you.
they thought you were a monster because you were dating stu
even though you didnt even know stu was behind the mask
it hurt, it really fucking hurt.
you had nobody to talk to, and the entire town was against you.
weren't they supposed to be helping you? comforting you about the death of your boyfriend even if he was a killer? I mean, you didnt even know about it.
shouldn't they have been consoling you? even if they were lying through their teeth, shouldnt they have been telling you how sorry they were that your boyfriend turned out to be a murderer?
you had always hated woodsboro and the people in it, but now it was worse.
now you wanted to strike a match and set the whole fucking town ablaze.
they didnt even know it was billy's fault. you knew him well, he would have never even done that shit if it weren't for that cocksucking bitch billy.
you were angry, so fucking angry.
you got a therapist after a couple weeks of crying every day and not doing anything unless your mother dragged you out of bed.
your therapist told you that the best way to deal with your situation, that being having your boyfriend, the love of your life, ripped from your grasp way, way, way too soon, was to write him a letter
you were confused, how could you write him a letter if he was dead?
you had already recieved his ashes, you and his parents being the only people that showed up to his funeral
even though they were late, you still found it nice that they showed up.
back to the letter thing, your therapist told you to write a letter to him, assuming that he could read it in the afterlife, and then keep it or dump it in the sea with his ashes.
you chose to keep the letter. you chose to also keep his ashes, his parents didnt want them.
but the letter went something like this,
shit, I dont even know if this is going to work.. whatever, let's hope it does.
stu macher, the love of my life. i dont even know where to begin... from the moment I first met you, I knew you would be mine someday. ever since we met on that playset when we were seven, i knew that i would fall in love with you. and when I first realized that I had fallen in love with you, it was because of a feeling I got, not a thought about how cute you were, or how nice your shirt was, or how kind you were to me, it was the feeling that I was finally safe with someone. you made me feel safe after so many years of hating everything. it sounds stupid but I dont think it is.
when you kissed me for the first time on those swings at the same park we met at, 7 years later, I felt like nothing could ever tear us apart, like we'd be together forever. but now you're gone, and suddenly i cant find peace anymore. I cant sleep without dreaming of you, I cant eat without thinking about us cooking in my kitchen, and i cant drink anything without thinking of the stupid drinking games we would play at your stupid parties.
why did you make my life so wonderful? did you know you would kill every bit of my happiness eventually? did you know that you would leave so soon?
why did you do it? why'd you kill those people? now everyone hates you for what you did. I hate you for what you did. I know it wasnt your fault, but I cant help it.
I dont go outside anymore. every time I step off my porch, I can't help but remember our dates where we sat in the field near your house and looked up at the sky for hours.
sidney and randy hate me now, but I cant blame them. they say i was dating a monster. I dont think you're a monster..
I dont know how I'm going to recover from this, but I know I'll have to.
eventually.
I dont want to forget you.
but what if I do?
what if I forget what we had? what if I forget how your stupid cologne smells? how you feel in my arms, how your lips felt on mine.. I dont want to forget.
I dont want to move on. my mother says I have to, that I need to find someone else to take my mind off of you. I screamed at her, told her to fuck herself and that I hoped her husband died so she felt how much it hurt. I dont feel bad. I dont regret saying it.
I hate you, stu macher.
I'll never fucking forgive you for what you did to me.
and most of all, I hate that I still love you.
yours forever, y/n.
after you wrote it, you felt better. you felt like he was reading it over your shoulder the whole time.
you were still upset though.
a few months later, you accepted the fact that stu would never come back. he was gone for good.
it hurt, but you got accepted it.
and you may have accepted it, but you never truly got over it.
stu was truly the love of your life.
It's Not the Weed | Jesse Pinkman x gn!reader
Anonymous asked: Sure okay
Can I request a friends to lovers type of thing for Jesse Pinkman x gn!reader? They’re both idiots in love with each other and maybe out on a night drive idk and one thing leads to another etc.
summary: you and Jesse have had crushes on each other since your years back in secondary school, but in a parked car smoking joints, it seems like the perfect time to confess.
tws: drug use, smoking, swearing
The love of your life was sat beside you in the car, music making everything around you shake and thud as you kicked your feet up onto the dashboard and leaned back, closing your eyes as you did your best not to look at him; Jesse was rolling the next joint already, hardly able to keep his eyes off of you. The music and the weed couldn't keep his attention away from you, the starry night outside couldn't either; a rural spot in the middle of nowhere, a long drive out of the suburbs where he lived, nothing but the desert to gaze out at. It was beautiful, really. Still couldn't stop him from looking at you, though.
Tilting his head to the side, Jesse handed you the joint and watched as you lit it up, the orange flame illuminating your features so well that for a second he knew that you looked absolutely divine, holy; it made him rub his eyes as he wondered whether or not he was dreaming. Such sweet and holy dreams weren't yet to come, though, but he hoped that they would. Jesse really hoped that they would. He had had his eye on you for a while, ever since you were in secondary school together; ever since you decided to sit next to him in Mister White's class, sat at the back together doodling and listening to music with earphones that didn't quite work right. He thought you were cool, but he didn't dare to approach you when you were eating lunch with your friends.
You ran with a crowd different to him back then, yet every day after school, you always went over his house; you helped him with homework, you sat around and played video games and watched shitty horror films about masked serial killers that were more silly than a group of clowns. Even on weekends, you would go out together and sit on a damp fields and smoke weed and drink beer, hidden away from everybody else; your head would end up on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around one of his, his baggy and oversized hoodie draped over you like a blanket.
Pulled from his thoughts, Jesse dared to look at you again; his gaze softening as be swallowed thickly, tilting his head to the side and trying not to giggle when your fingers graced his as you passed him the joint. You grabbed the bottle of Lucozade from between your ankles, cracking it open and taking a long swig as you hummed softly and relaxed a little more.
"Y'know," you mused softly. "I always did think you were kinda hot."
It felt like the sky had come crashing down, shakily reaching for the Lucozade bottle so that he could take a swig but immediately choking on it as his eyes welled up with tears; it didn't feel real. Jesse was sure that he misheard you, but when you tapped him on the shoulder, he swallowed thickly.
"Did you hear what I said?" You spoke so slowly, like every word had a golden meaning. "Jess?"
"Uh, no," he breathed out, shaking his head and shivering a little. He turned on the car's heaters.
"I said, I always thought you were kinda hot," you fucking grinned as the words left your mouth, and suddenly the weed didn't matter and the fact that it was only you and him meant everthing in the world.
Jesse took another few drags, then handed the joint back to you. His mouth felt dry and his heart was pounding. He thought his hands were shaking but that could have just been the weed, a fuzzy feeling surrounding him as he grinned and shook his head. "Nah, that's just the weed talking, yo."
"It's really not," you scoffed, shaking your head and licking your lips. Your mouth was starting to feel dry, and your stomach was starting to feel empty as a giggle left you; one that forced you to close your eyes as the giddiness ripped through you for a moment.
It really wasn't. The weed had nothing to do with it, in truth; you always thought he was kind of hot. Ever since you sat down with him in Mister White's class all those years ago; how he smiled always made you feel like you couldn't breathe for a second, how he laughed always made you feel sort of giddy and made your face feel hot to the touch. You missed the times when you would play video games together and fight dirty, pushing and shoving one another until you were sitting on his lap and trying to block the screen just so you could win. You missed the nights when you would smoke together on the fields, and when he would freak out when you took him to supposedly haunted places, promising to protect him. As you grew together, your attraction to him only grew, and as you looked at him now, you knew it wasn't just the weed. Maybe the weed made you a little braver, maybe it made you a little more confident, but it didn't change how you felt.
The joint was finished, smoked down to the roach and thrown out of the window when Jesse moved his seat back, the metal nearly grinding as he swallowed thickly and ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, frowning at how fucking dry it felt. "It's just the weed."
"It's not," you insisted, daring to awkwardly climb over so that you could straddle his waist, hoping that the gear stick wouldn't dig into your knee as you put your hands on the seat either side of his head, glaring down at him. "Jesse Bruce Pinkman... this isn't just the fucking weed speaking."
'Sex is Muss' by Feuerschwanz was playing and you couldn't help but to wriggle around a little, almost trying to dance to it as you grinned and bit at the inside of your lip; but Jesse was too stunned to speak, those bright blue eyes focused entirely on you as he reached out and put his hands on your thighs, swallowing thickly as he didn't dare to take his eyes from you. Not this time. He did his best to focus on the lyrics, focus on the song as best as he could, but it wasn't exactly helping as it made the entire car vibrate.
Das ist kein normales Liebeslied, (denn Sex is Muss!) sondern ein Triebeslied, (denn Sex is Muss!) ein ganz besonders liebes Lied, (denn Sex is Muss!) eine Ode an den Liebestrieb, die Katz und der Kater, die Kuh und der Stier. Ente und Erpel, welch lüstern Getier. Maja und Willi, Struppi und Tim, Heidi und Peter, ergibt doch voll Sinn? Der Topf und der Deckel, der Arsch und der Eimer, die Faust und das Auge, alleine bleibt keiner. Alle Welt tut es, so war's immer schon. Selbst Vögel vögeln, frag mich nicht warum.
"I wanna kiss you."
"Then do it," you nodded, and when he leaned up a little, capturing your lips with the most soft and quick of kisses, you couldn't help but to laugh. "Is that all you got?"
"I wanna take things slow," he told you. "If... if this isn't just the weed talking, I wanna... y'know, do things right."
"I can do that," you licked your lips, your gaze going down to his lips for a moment. "Do you, uh, do you remember when you caught me snogging Nia at Theo's house party?"
Jesse nodded. "Yeah."
"Would it be too forward to say I wanna do that with you now?" You asked, and when Jesse agreed, you leaned down, capturing his lips so gently.
One hand went to his jaw, as you tried not to laugh when he put one hand at the back of your neck, the other gripping your shirt so tightly that his knuckles went pale as he kept you so close; the feeling of your lips on his made him more dizzy than any drug could, and when you slipped your tongue into his mouth, his breath felt like it had been drawn from him and given to you. He thought he had been blessed more than he could say, more than he wanted to admit, and when you pulled away, all that left him was a soft whimper.
"Was that okay?"
"Yeah," Jesse nodded again, licking his lips and savouring the way yours tasted. The mix of weed and Lucozade. But then you made a move to get off of his lap, and Jesse gently tugged at your shirt. "Can you stay like this?"
You grinned. "Sure - if you give me a cigarette."
He fumbled around until he found the packet, and pressed it into your hands. "You're somethin' else, (y/n)."
But the smile on his face, the giddiness in those eyes that wasn't just from how high he was, it was all too much to ignore, and you dared to laugh softly as you lit up two cigarettes and gave him one. It really wasn't just the weed.
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