Ugh God This Is Hard Uhh

ugh god this is hard uhh

Let's go back - Jungle

You're so Dark - Arctic Monkeys

Easier Said Than Done - Thee sacred souls

Roly Poly - Mt Joy

Cappucina - Nat King Cole

no pressure tags: @to-be-a-sunshine @brighterthanlonelywords

When you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur favourite followers :)

From: @jakelinestradlin

Africa - Toto

Don't Dream it's Over - Crowded House

When it's Love - Van Halen

Patience - Guns N' Roses

Drive - The Cars

Followers:

@greeneyezblackheart @jakelinestradlin @beebemarie @prettypersuasion @elscaptive

@oldsoulgunsnrosesgirl @loveherallican-blog @ride-the-hammett @izzystradlindoesitforme @nenynra

@izzystradliniscute @rhapsodynew

hate comments are fun ngl. send me an anon insult? i'll insult you back and the only way you can do anything about it is revealing yourself. Ha!

then i'll block you. sorry a bit anticlimactic i know but not a lot i'm gonna do about it tbh

uh??? i don't think it should??

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

just him ig <3

@krakenkitty @llumetrii no pressure tags!

the og post was way too long so I'm making a new one

thanks for the tag @lombolica !! :D

You're stuck in a room with the last character in your gallery how safe are you

very safe

the worst thing that could happen is him being clumsy, so I think I'm alright (unless monsters find him I guess)

tagging (no pressure): @flaretheidiot @lemonic-whimssyy @wibbly-wobbly-blog @cryptidanathema @virtualunease @aurlworthfightingfor @angrysheep @sugarplumanderson @time-travelling-chaos @fateisnotafactor @monstrousmaws @sinfulauthor @idkaguyorsomething @vampireopossum and anyone who wants to do this!

psa to everybody who's messaging me for new chapters

chill out

i don't even get a dozen reblogs or any kind of support but i get that kind of shit? no. that's like asking for food but not wanting to pay.

also, i have other stuff. life to do. job. school. i will get to it. when will it be ready? when u get a notif that it's posted.

Hi!!!! Idk if you’re taking requests right now and it’s totally cool if you don’t but I was wondering if you could write the boys with aftercare?!?! One or all, writings choice! If you’d like with one of them maybe the reader safewords? If you’re not comfortable with that I completely understand ASDGHJKL

But anyway I love love love you’re writing you’re so fucking talented 🥺

ROMANA I LOVE YOU OMG YES

So we’re going to go with Marc on this one because I truly cannot imagine safewording with Steven (I mean he’s really hot, but a dork y’know, and I think he’s probably pretty vanilla? So I can’t imagine a scenario where you guys are having kinky enough sex to establish a safe word. He probably fixes you both tea after sex lol) and I could write for Jake but an idea came to me with our dear Marc Spector. I really hope you enjoy!!

(Tags: Marc Spector x Reader, overstimulation, safe word use, unprotected piv, afab!fem!reader, pretty fluffy, not a whole lot of angst!)

How Many Does It Take

You can’t really tell how many orgasms you’ve had by this point. Marc had started between your thighs, eating your pussy like a man starved, sucking at your clit until you had soaked his face not once, but twice.

He’d barely given you a change to breathe through the aftershocks before he had sunk two of his thick fingers into you, under the guise of stretching you out for his cock. But you know better. You know because he had immediately sought out your g-spot, pressing into it and chuckling like a bastard when you gasped and your hips twitched.

He’d worked you through two orgasms like that, his two fingers turning into three.

Your mind had already been hazy, your vision slightly blurred when he had sunk his cock into you. You were already so sensitive, and the way he had pounded unrelentingly into your g-spot had made it fucking worse. You had sobbed, hips twitching hard, but Marc held you steady, telling you how good you were. Telling you to cum on his cock. Telling you to cum again. 

And you had, clenching around him hard as you shook in his arms. He floods your pussy with his cum not long after that, and you breathe hard, exhausted and ready to wrap yourself around your boyfriend as you sleep like the dead.

But Marc pulls out of you and you feel his cum leak out of your sensitive pussy. And he takes those thick fingers that you hate to love, and pushes it back in.

He stuffs his cum back into your abused entrance, pressing two fingers into you all over again, and you want to scream when he presses them against your g-spot.

“Marc, ah, ‘s too sensitive. I’m so fucking, so fucking sensitive baby,” you whimper, hips attempting to jerk away, but Marc keeps a strong hand pressed to your lower stomach, holding you still as he plays with your messy cunt. 

“C’mon gorgeous, you can give me another one. So good, so pretty, you gotta give me another one,” he mutters, his muscles bulging as he works his fingers into you, ruthless and unrelenting. He feels it when you cum again, your pussy fluttering softly, and he smiles. “Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl. Another, c’mon. Another.”

You can only whine, tears slowly leaking down your puffy face. You can’t cum again, you can’t. The last one had hurt, a little bit, your stomach cramping up. It feels like he’s ripping orgasms out of you at this point, forceful and violent. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t feel it the way you do. They’re not good orgasms anymore, there’s no satisfaction, only aching.

He leans down to pepper kisses under your jaw, soft pecks that are usually a source of comfort, but not now. Not now. He’s still playing with your g-spot, his thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit. You’re numb, but your body still clenches up involuntarily with another orgasm, and oh god, it hurts.

You’re whining high in the back of your throat, little mutters of “too much, ‘s too much Marc, oh fuck,” whispered between you both. But he isn’t stopping, doesn’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon, and another orgasm wracks your body, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. 

“Red, red, Marc, oh god, red,” you gasp, barely able to fucking breathe. You want to sob in relief when you feel his fingers immediately leave your puffy, abused cunt, but you immediately want to mourn again as his heavy body lifts off of you. His thick hands leave you, leaving you suddenly cold, and you whimper softly.

“Hey, hey,” Marc’s gruff voice filters into your ear, close to your face, but keeping his distance, not taking the chance of touching you when you don’t want it. “Hey, baby, are you hurt? Are you hurting anywhere?” You try to answer, but no sound comes out, your throat sticky and choked. “Just one word, baby, yes or no. Are you hurt?”

“No,”  you mutter, your voice breathy and ruined to your own ears. “Just,” you cough, “hold me?” 

Marc doesn’t hesitate, moving next to you and gathering you up against his naked body, his warm skin a comfort against yours. He’s a little sticky with sweat, but you know that you’re even stickier. You feel wrung dry, the area between your thighs too tacky with a mixture of you and Marc. You’ll need a shower later, but you content yourself with just breathing in Marc’s scent, warm and musky, with a hint of his woodsy deodorant. 

He holds you against him like you’ll disappear, tracing his fingers up your spine as you sync your breathing with his. Neither of you speak, simply existing together as you come back to yourself. You’re not sure how much time passes, only that Marc holds you steady, strong and unyielding in only the way that he can be.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble against his chest, and Marc jerks suddenly, arms hugging you tighter.

“No, baby,” he says, so vehement that you giggle softly. “You never apologize for using the safe word, okay?” You feel his hand come up to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I am so, so glad you felt safe enough to use it, okay? That took a lot of strength, and I am so proud of you.”

You can’t help how your eyes start to burn at his words, and you desperately want to bury yourself inside of this beautiful, strong, understanding man, and never come out.

“What happened, sweet girl? Just so I don’t do it again, okay? I just need to know,” he whispers, voice cracking just a little bit, and it breaks your heart. You lean up to press a comforting kiss against his lips.

“Just because I can cum multiple times Marc, doesn’t mean I should, okay handsome?” you croak out, and you watch Marc’s brows furrow. 

“You get so hyper-focused on making me cum, baby, and even though that is like, every girl's dream, it starts to hurt after a while, you know?” Marc nods at your explanation, and you smile softly at him. “You are so, so good in bed baby, but my body can’t really handle that many orgasms back to back. Maybe we can keep it to a maximum of four?”

Marc smooths his hand over your cheek before cupping the back of your head, guiding you into a soft kiss. “Okay, baby, four it is,” he mumbles into your mouth, and you giggle in response, bringing one of your hands up to brush a thumb over his stubbly cheek. 

“I love you Marc,” you whisper, and Marc whimpers softly, almost like he’s relieved.

“I love you too baby, so much. So fucking much,” he says against your lips. He kisses you softly, again and again, chaste and warm and loving.

“Think you could carry me to the shower, handsome?” you whisper after a few minutes. “Don’t think my legs are in working condition yet.”

Marc chuckles, before standing up off the bed and scooping you up into his strong arms. “Bath instead?” he asks, carrying you through the apartment.

Your heart swells, threatening to choke you. “You’re too good to me, Spector.”

“Well, a trusted source did tell me that I’m every girl's dream,” he chuckles. “Gotta live up to the name, right baby?”

“You already do.”