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bettys-redwinesupernova · 2 days ago

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HEAD OVER HEELS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !!)

SUMMARY: in which drew starkey is head over heels in love with his girlfriend, y/n.

based on this ask !! i really hope you like this anon, you didn’t request a specific plot so i went with this :)

WARNINGS: pure fluff, obsessed!drew but in a cutie patootie way !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: i promise guys i will sort out making a master list tonight !! for now, click on my personalised tags like #bettys asks !!

WORD COUNT: 1k

THIRD PERSON +

Drew couldn't stop talking about her. His girlfriend, Y/N, that is.

His castmates on the Outer Banks set had long since grown used to it, though they still teased him mercilessly. It wasn't unusual for him to pull out his phone between takes and scroll through pictures of her, showing anyone who would listen. Even Chase joked once, "You know, Drew, we've all met her. You don't have to keep proving she exists."

But Drew didn't care. He loved talking about her. Loved the way her smile lit up his entire day, the way her laughter felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. Y/N was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

"She's visiting today," Drew announced, a giddy grin spreading across his face as he leaned against the craft services table.

Madelyn raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "You've only mentioned that about a hundred times this week."

"Yeah, and what's your point?" Drew shot back, unbothered. He grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, taking a sip before adding, "I just can't wait for you guys to see her again. She's incredible."

Madelyn exchanged a knowing look with Rudy, who was attempting (and failing) to suppress a laugh.

When Y/N finally arrived on set that afternoon, Drew spotted her instantly. She stepped out of the car, her hair slightly tousled from the coastal breeze, and his entire world seemed to pause. She was wearing his favorite sundress—the one he'd told her once made her look like a walking daydream—and he couldn't stop the wide, lovesick smile that overtook his face.

"Y/N!" Drew called out, practically sprinting toward her.

Before she could respond, he had her wrapped in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she let out a surprised laugh.

"Joseph Andrew Starkey! Put me down!" she exclaimed, though she was grinning just as much as he was.

"Not a chance," he replied, spinning her around once before finally setting her back on her feet. "God, I missed you."

"You saw me three days ago," she teased, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"And that's three days too long," he said without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

It didn't take long for the rest of the cast to spot her. Chase and Rudy came over to say hi, both of them giving her warm hugs and cracking jokes about how Drew had been "insufferable" without her.

"You're a saint for putting up with him," Rudy quipped, earning a playful shove from Drew.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as Drew laced their fingers together. "He's not so bad," she said, glancing up at Drew with a soft smile.

"Not so bad?" Drew repeated, feigning offense. "I'll have you know I'm the perfect boyfriend."

"And humble, too," she teased, nudging him lightly.

The group chatted for a while before Drew pulled her away, eager to have her to himself. He brought her to his trailer, where he'd set up a small surprise for her: a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a handwritten note resting on the table.

"Drew," she said softly, her eyes shining as she turned to look at him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as she took a deep breath. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Not possible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

For the rest of the day, Drew was glued to her side. He introduced her to everyone on set—again—even though most of them already knew her from her previous visits. But it didn't matter to Drew. He wanted to show her off, to let the world see just how amazing she was.

During breaks in filming, he would find her wherever she was sitting and drape himself over her like an oversized golden retriever. "You comfortable?" he'd ask, despite the fact that he was the one taking up all the space.

"Very," she'd reply, laughing as she adjusted to make room for him.

When it came time for Drew to shoot his scenes, Y/N watched from the sidelines, her eyes filled with pride. He'd glance over at her between takes, flashing her a grin or a wink, and her heart would flutter every time.

At one point, Madelyn leaned over to Y/N and whispered, "He's like this all the time, you know. Completely obsessed with you."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. "I'm not complaining," she said softly, her gaze never leaving Drew.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the set, Drew was practically attached to her hip. He posted a candid photo of her sitting on a beach chair, the ocean in the background and a soft smile on her face. The caption was simple: My favourite view.

"You're going to make people sick with how sweet you are," she joked when she saw the post.

"Good," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Let them be sick. I don't care."

That night, as they sat on the beach together, watching the waves crash against the shore, Drew couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

"I love you," he said suddenly, his voice soft but steady.

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and a little surprised.

"I mean it," he continued, his gaze locked on hers. "I love you. More than anything."

A smile spread across her face, and she reached up to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Drew."

In that moment, with the stars beginning to twinkle above them and the sound of the ocean in the background, Drew felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. With her.

Always with her.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet :’) there’s something about guys who are so lovesick and obsessed with their gf’s that just MELTS my heart😫

i’m still working my way through all my requests from oldest to newest (except a couple i got good inspiration for), so please be patient if you’ve recently requested something !! <3

#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey #outer banks #fluff #obx #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey obx #drew starkey outer banks #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey imagine

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willneverbreakme · 2 days ago

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my dm used to do this! sometimes we'd pay another potion seller to check and tell us what they were, sometimes we'd just neck one down in an emergency and see what happened. usually it was a minor healing potion or spider climb or something, but not always.

my dm was fair and wouldn't kill anyone off unless we knew we were going into a situation that could be fatal, but if we knew the risks he didn't fudge rolls.

after a year or so of our party playing together, we finally picked a fight we could neither finish nor flee far enough. the whole party barely escaped with our lives. our Fighter was doing death roles as we fled, and not doing well. we were all out of healing, and as a last ditch attempt our Healer fed him the mystery potion, figuring it couldn't make it worse. well, the potion took effect, and to our relief didn't kill him immediately. but it wasn't a healing potion.

with his final breaths, our Fighter looked to the Healer and said, "I want to you know, I've never loved anyone like I love you." friends, it was a love potion. in that moment, she chose to kiss him, Romeo&Julietting the potion from his lips, and thus fell in love with him in return. just in time to hold him as he failed his last check.

I wish I could say we were more careful about mystery potions after that but honestly it was such a compelling moment to play that if anything we did it more

#d&d #dnd

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eunoiiz · 2 days ago

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☁︎—enhypen reassuring you about your relationship

☁︎synopsis—enhypen comforting you about their love for you₊˚ෆ

☁︎genre—hurt/comfort. enhypen hyung line x reader.₊˚ෆ

☁︎warning—crying. idk mentions of cheating or whatever. swearing. intended lowercase. not proofread. wc(range)˚˚˚300—500 each.₊˚ෆ

☁︎kassiddi's note—trying a headcannon!! or whatevs it's called i forgot… might do a maknae line !! but for now i decided to do something to upload (so it's rushed) and i also didn't know how to properly title this.₊˚ෆ

ʚɞ—lee heeseung˚˚˚

hearing from a handful of your friends that heeseung was cheating on you was not taken lightly to heart. your heart sank, throat stung and eyes began to fill with tears as your ears rang.

you never believed the “playboy” rumors since you met him, and he'd always denied them when people approached him and accused him of cheating on his exes. you believed him over these 3 months.

you turned around, heading for the office to call in sick, when you saw him. them. heeseung's face just inches away from one of the girls you'd thought was his ex.

you ran for the office, dropping your backpack to shed off some weight. you didn't have anything important in it, anyway.

the sound of running behind you soon after caused you to attempt to enter the girls restroom, but you didn't make it as the steps were faster. the person spun you around.

“what the fuck do you want heeseung?!” you shouted through streams of tears, trying to get him off you. “please, let me explain.” “what the fuck is there to explain? everyone was right about you, hee!” you ignored his pleas, releasing yourself from his grip and beginning to storm into the ladies restroom out of frustration.

“i’m not cheating on you, y/n, please believe me.” he begged, rambling as fast as possible before you walked too far into the bathroom to hear.

“then what was that, heeseung? how can you explain how close you were to miyeon, and all the rumors?” you wiped away your tears. “it wasn't anything y/n—” “it seemed like you were about to kiss her to me.” you couldn't face the male.

“i was angry with her y/n, i couldn't stand the rumors she was spreading and wanted to confront her before they got to you and made you like.. this.” he explained, trying to reassure you. but you weren't so sure, at all. you didn't know if you could believe him.

“she's been wanting me back since i broke up with her, and she's spread these rumors from the beginning. i’ve never cheated on anyone. please believe me, baby.” sincerity tainted his voice, and painted his face when you finally turned back around to look at him.

“do you promise? how do i know i can trust you?” your voice shook, the uncertainty remained. “i promise, love, please. miyeon was my first girlfriend, y/n. the crazy one i told you about. she hasn't changed. i’ll so anything to make you believe me.”

your heart rate slowed, although you still weren't sure you could trust him again.

“i’ll try to believe you hee.” you mumbled, allowing him to caress your check, using his thumb to swipe away your tears. “thank you, doll. i promise i'll prove my love to you, a hundred—no, a thousand times if i have to.”

ʚɞ—park jongseong˚˚˚

“y/n, i heard around that jay is just using you to get back at his ex, but im not sure. i hope it's false but i wanted to let you know, sorry.” jisung whispered into your ear while passing by during lunch, smiling apologetically at you.

you smiled back, though it quickly fell. deciding to confront your boyfriend before class started, you hurried eating. you were torn between anger and sadness.

you checked the time, 15 minutes until the bell rang. enough time to call his ass out, in private though.

your eyes searched the cafeteria, eventually landing on a blonde male, the best friend of your boyfriend, and your boyfriend right next to him.

standing up, tray in hand, you tossed it into the nearby trash, proceeding toward the man.

“up. we need to talk.” “wha—” “now.” you forced him up, tugging him by his hoodie sleeve into a more secluded area.

“what's this about, my love?” he questioned, a puzzled look plastered all over his face while he stood with his arms crossed.

“don't act so stupid with me, jongseong. you had me here loving you for months because i really thought you loved me but your only with me because you wanna make your ex jealous? what the hell?” you ranted, infuriated.

“woah, bae, slow down. what?” he quizzed, you could tell he was genuinely confused but you were too angry to take time to let him even breathe. “you know exactly what i mean, stop doing that.”

“y/n, slow down. you know im not like that, my love. who told you this?” he placated. “jisung! he's a distant friend, but i trust him! and he's not even the first person who I've heard this from. i think he got it from hyunjin, or leeseo, or maybe even minhee! it's just been going around too much and—” “darling…” he trailed off, silence taking over for ten seconds.

“you realize all of the people you just named don't even like you, right?” his hand reached for yours.

“oh.. well, still?...” you muttered, glancing away. your face heated, feeling a bit dumb but still unsure. “how do i know you aren't with me for that, though?”

“let's go talk to jisung first, okay? clear up somethings and ill come over later, darling. i love you.”

he interlinked your hands, “i love you too, seong.”

ʚɞ—sim jaeyun˚˚˚

you've never been able to get over the crush you've had on jake since you were little, but you also couldn't bring yourself to confess either.

“thank you, jakey!” a girl’s voice sounded through the halls.

turning the corner, you watched as the girl released her grip on his forearm and gave him a tight hug before he sent her off into the classroom. you hated that, such a small thing.

but it didn't feel right to feel so angry, he wasn't even yours.

you figured it would be better if you headed off to your own class, and tried to forget about it so you’d feel better. lunch was after one more period.

maybe he could hang out with his new girlfriend that he hadn't even told you about, and you'll spend lunch with someone else.

when the bell rang, you packed up as quickly as possible, not wanting to encounter them again. even though you still caught a glimpse of them on your way to your next class.

“y/n—” “in a hurry!” you spewed, speeding down the hall and past the couple, you did not want an introduction to his new girlfriend. you wanted to be his new girlfriend for years, but those chances seemed like zero.

so once again, when the bell rang, you made sure to pack up as quickly as possible. but when you stepped outside, you saw a face you didn't want to at that moment.

“oh, think i left something in my last class, jake! you should head to lunch—” “what's up with you? i've been trying to introduce you to my cousin! she's 2 grades behind us, i was hoping you were okay with helping me show her around, y/n. you could've said you weren't.” jake explained.

holy, did you feel stupid?

“..cousin?” you were stunned, internally killing yourself. “yes? why? someone jealous?” he smirked, obviously teasing but you might as well spill it.

“yes, actually.. i thought she was your girlfriend and i thought my chances with you were gone and—” a peck, another, another, and another that turned into a longer kiss.

“i thought you didn't feel the same, pretty.”

ʚɞ—park sunghoon˚˚˚

“y/n, would you help me with something?” sunghoon called you over. “yeah, what is it?” you stood up, walking over to his desk and pulling up a chair right next to his.

“this is a confession letter! im giving it to yuna, i just need to go over the grammar and decorate it a bit—”

“confession letter?” your brows furrowed, jealousy starting to build up inside of you. “uhm, yeah! can i get that help?” he asked, holding the card out in front of your face.

“oh, yes of course, should i go over the grammar?” he nodded. you flipped open the card, the corners decorated in pink bows, the edges lined in pink glitter and the i’s dotted in hearts. you wanted to rip up the card, a bit overwhelmed by jealousy.

“i would like to be your valentine…. mmmm.. you're the most stunning girl I've ever seen…. i’ve had feelings for you for so long..” you read aloud as sunghoon watched your expression. “seems all good to me, i also didn't know you could decorate like this, hoon.” you caressed the bows, all the things you loved drawn into a card—that wasn't for you.

“only the best for who i love, right?” he smiled, taking back the card.

“right.. anything else?” you tried to keep your composure, not wanting to spill all your emotions out to your best friend who didn't seem to feel the same.

“yes can you help with this envelope? i need to decorate it and sign it. mind using these glitter pens? oh and make sure to add the bows in the corners!” he exclaimed, turning to his laptop and focusing on a level he'd been trying to be on his game.

a couple moments later and you slip the card into the pastel envelope. “there.” you slid it across the desk. “perfect, she's gonna love it.” he smiled proudly. “you're the best, n/n.”

“mhm. you never told me you had a crush, hoon?” your eyes never left the card, neatly tucked into the envelope. it bothered you so much and you couldn't shake that feeling.

“well, i actually wanted to tell you after i handed yuna the card, but i guess there's no point now.” he scratched his nape, then reached toward his mini shelf and between books.

he pulled out another card, decorated similarly. “no kidding, hoon. why have me help make a card look all pretty for her and then tell me you liked her? and for so long?” you were so upset, but you didn't want that to show.

“liked her? ….yuna? oh, no stupid. this is for jake! he had soccer practice so he wanted help with a confession card, because valentine's day's tomorrow and he didn't think he'd have enough time.” sunghoon explained, the other card in his other hand, sliding it towards you.

“read this, y/n.” you picked up the card, opening the envelope and then the card.

‘dear y/n, i’ve had feelings for you for so long and could never tell if you felt the same, but i wanna ask you now, would you be my valentine? you're the most wonderful girl and i’m so lucky to have you. (hopefully) you're future boyfriend, sunghoon’

“oh my gosh, sunghoon. i hate you so much.” you smiled to yourself, taking a moment to take it in. “so.. is that a no?” he joked, laughing. “no you idiot, i’d love to be your valentine, and future girlfriend.”

thank you for reading♡ i appreciate any interaction with my writing, i just do it for fun(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

please do not steal or repost on any platform. i only publish these to tumblr under the username eunoiiz.

#☁︎kass.writes #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen reaction #enhypen fluff #sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x you #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #this one's embarrassing dude

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ttjisung · 14 hours ago

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BABY l. jeno

camboy!lee jeno x fem!reader

in which jeno finds it easier to destress himself on stream, that is until you catch him

cw: MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, squirting, another haechan feature cause i want him lowkey, generally inappropriate things lol idk how else to describe it! this wasn't proof read so beware of spelling mistakes (wc: 3k)

If you were to be asked, you’d confidently describe your relationship with Lee Jeno as trustworthy – loyal, even. Yet the truth was that Jeno had a secret he had been keeping for years now, one so outlandish it sounds straight out of a girl’s wet dream. It wasn’t that he thought you’d judge him, he just worried you’d ask him the origins of his secret, and he’d have to explain that it became his channel to take out some stress because of you.

Jeno’s secret was simple and straightforward – for the past year or two, he’d hide out at his apartment every weekend alone, turning on his web-camera and becoming a new identity. He hated calling himself a camboy, seeing it as an impeachment on his own self. Camboy felt too official, he was just a horny young adult looking for a way to let it out. That being said, what complicated the situation was that you were the cause of his need to do so. All of the times you’d compliment him after he’d send a workout selfie, so oblivious to the gym roleplay he’d act out later on, wishing his hand was you in tight shorts and a sports bra. Even something so innocent as saying his hair was cute had him thrusting into his palm and pulling on his own hair in the late hours, acting like it was you in front of him, instead of the hundreds of nameless accounts that would flood his chat.

Jeno swore he’d get away with his little double-life, knowing you’d be caught in a grave before HotLonelyStuds. That’s why his own world came crashing down on himself during a hangout, when Lee Haechan approached him privately, an evil grin on his obnoxious face. “I have a confession.” The way he stated it seemed genuine, yet the way his eyes glinted towards the older male let him know his intentions were anything but.

“Go ahead.” “Head? I’m sure that’s what you want, Dr. Lee.” Jeno’s heart dropped at the implication behind the sentence, way too specific to pass as a normal sexual innuendo. It was only when Haechan opened his phone up to his Twitter likes, already flooded with several homemade pornos, pointing out the most recent. Jeno wasn’t even aware that people were reuploading his clips – he swore it was a privacy breach, not allowed on the website he used. He recognized the specific stream, a night where he felt particularly needy. You had told him about a physical you received at your latest doctors’ appointment, and his fantasies ran wild. Admittedly, it wasn’t normal to feel so horny because of something so simple, yet as soon as he imagined himself on top of you, stripping you slowly on a patient’s bed, there was no going back. Albeit weird, he swore there was nothing special about the clip until Haechan clicked on it, of course he did.

“Fuck… Need you so bad, baby. Let Dr. Lee take care of you.” Jeno’s voice was hoarse, ringing from above as his camera panned down to his cock that was already out of his white dress pants and leaking in his hand. He flicked his wrist gently, agonizingly slow, taking his time and imagining it was your small, delicate hand instead. In his daze, his thumb unconsciously ran over his tip, forcing a gasp out of his throat, alongside an uncontrolled small whisper of your name. The whisper was so light, it could easily be played off as an incoherent moan to anyone else, yet Haechan (who swore up and down that Jeno was in love with you) begged to differ.

“Why did you even watch all of it to find that out, perv.” Jeno’s first response was defense, trying to play it off and even pass the shame onto Haechan. What he should’ve taken into account was that if there was one word to describe the male, it’d be shameless. “Eh, ‘was bored. What matters here is you, Dr. Lee, and your infatuation with a little someone-”

“Who?” You spoke up behind the two, frowning at the way Haechan jumped up and immediately turned his phone off. “Hey, I wanna see.” You whined, saddened at the fact that you were out of the loop. “It was porn.” Haechan was quick to yell out, patting Jeno on the back and rushing back into the living room.

“Were you actually watching that stuff, Jen? I don’t care but like… You told me you don’t.” The disdain in your voice assured Jeno about one thing – you could never know the truth. Not only would it freak you out, he felt as though you’d be offended that he’s been lying to you about how truly sexual he is. Being the only two of your friend group that didn’t continuously sleep around, you felt even more connected with him when he’d back you up, telling you it’s normal to be reserved at your age; making you think he relates, when the truth was that as soon as you’d go home and his lights would turn off, his camera would turn on.

“No, of course not baby. He was just being weird.” The way the familiar nickname rolled out of his mouth smoothly assured you, and you simply nodded with a small grin. “What were you up to before Hyuck flashed you?” You giggled at your own word choice, moving away from Jeno to open the fridge. “Not much, ‘was honestly waiting for you to realize I was gone and look for me.” For some reason, an unusual feeling of unease washed over him at your reaction to his words. You took it lightly, like you take everything. No matter how shamelessly he’d flirt with you, you’d always just smile and look away until the conversation would stray elsewhere. He was sick of acting like it didn’t affect him to see you dismiss him so easily, yet he supposed it was partly his fault, as he never clarified that he meant what he said – you probably just assumed he didn’t.

“Wanna escape to my place? I’m honestly a bit bored.” Jeno wasn’t bored, he just wanted you all to himself, truthfully. “Sorry, Jen. I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m only halfway done. I was about to head out. Maybe another time?” He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with a shaky breath. Embarrassed from your reoccuring denial, he decided he’d go home anyway. He had a new idea for a stream anyway, one that projected your relationship as loudly as the rest. It never hurts to do an extra video or two, knowing the pocket change he’d make could serve to take you out for a pastry.

Tonight, the roles were reversed on HotLonelyStuds, as Jeno’s hand stroked himself quickly, moaning at the sensation. “Take it, fuck. Take it all. Rejecting me when you know you want me? Could’ve been us right now, baby.” His words were muffled, his teeth gritting in an unnaturally stressed way as his other hand reached his throat, pressing harshly. This stream was particularly rough, and although he’d refuse, Jeno knew the true reasoning behind his labored actions. He knew the truth was that he was sick of you ignoring him, when he was always there. Every time you’d complain about your lack of experience, every time you’d cry to him about feeling immature, he wanted to scream in your face that he’s right here! He always has been right there, pliant and willing to help you overcome your inexperience.

The frustration built more and more, and before Jeno knew it he had come twice, painting his already covered abs white. On his third, he was too immersed to notice the familiar jingle of your spare key – the one he had given you as soon as he moved into his new apartment, letting you know you were welcome any time.

Clearly, that might’ve not been the case as a loud gasp escaped you. Not bothering to knock on Jeno’s bedroom door, not even having heard his loud groans, you were welcomed with the sight of his heavy dick in his hands, upper body completely bare. Jeno’s eyes were held shut with pleasure until he recognized a stream of light on him that hadn’t been there before, the buzz of his hallway lamp amplifying the already-deafening silence that the two of you shared as you finally made eye contact. In shock, Jeno couldn’t bring himself to cover up. It wasn’t until you shrieked and ran out of the room that he pulled his pants back up, shutting the stream off with no explanation and running after you.

“Baby… I swear it’s not what you think-” “I know what I saw, Jen…” Your frown was making him panic, and he felt tears brimming in his eyes at your words. He was so fucked. “I just… Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t care-” “That’s the problem!” Sick of ignoring the obvious, he moved next to you, holding both your wrists in desperation. “You never care. Fuck, you don’t even care right now that you saw my dick out. Even less, that it was because of you.” His words sparked confusion in you, understanding what he was saying but refusing to believe what he insinuated. Surely, Lee Jeno hadn’t been fucking himself in front of a camera because of you. How would that even work?

“I don’t even care anymore, either, Y/n. Don’t care that you caught me, because maybe at least for those three seconds that you saw me, you might’ve had a small part of you in your head saying it’s hot.” “I don’t get it, Jen.” “Yes, you do.”

It wasn’t until you felt Jeno’s breath on your face that you realized how close he had truly gotten, and it was only when he grabbed your wrists that you realized, maybe it doesn’t feel so bad to be held by him like that.

Against your better judgement, your next action was brash as you cupped his face, pulling him in towards yours. The kiss was messy, Jeno’s teeth biting your lips until they began to feel sore. His arm snaked behind your back, lessening the space between you until there was nothing. “Gonna show you what I’ve been doing, baby. All for you.” “W-wait, Jen.” Before he could even push you onto the couch behind you, you pulled away. With every step you took, Jeno’s heart broke more, and his anger grew. Who were you to kiss him, and then reject him not even a minute later?

In his fury, Jeno failed to realize what you were truly doing until your hand found his and you led him back to his room. His mind became foggy once he saw you approach his computer, searching for something. “Where is it, Jen?” “Where’s what, baby?” “The camera.” At your words, his eyes widened. There was no way you were really doing what he thought you were doing. There was no way you were going to let him fuck you in front of his viewers.

Feeling as though the opportunity would pass at any second, Jeno jumped up quickly, gently pushing you aside to open the website and program the webcam to turn on. Soon after, the red flickering light on his computer confirmed the fact that it was on, and his hands were back on you, sliding down towards the back of your thighs and pulling you onto him.

The kiss grew heavy once more, Jeno so focused that he didn’t even give context to his viewers who had never seen him with another girl before. Had he read the chat though, he’d be pleasantly surprised to see the positive feedback. Maybe he would’ve even seen Haechan’s texts that were flooding his phone. WTF? I TOLD YOU, YOU WHORE, that quickly progressed into encouragement, fuckk dude, lift her shirt up a bit, always wanted to see her pretty tits.

Unknowingly, Jeno fed into Haechan’s perversions as he also grew tired of the fabric holding you back from him. His big hands held onto your waist before lifting you up and turning you around, so you’d be sitting on his lap facing towards the camera instead of him. The light whimpers you’d let out at his every move gained traction from the chat, who were now spamming comments asking Jeno to fuck the shit out of you. Well, who was he to deny his fans?

You felt Jeno’s lips attach to your neck, as well as his long fingers slipping under your shirt, cupping your bare tits. He hated the fact that you never wore a bra near him, leaving little to his imagination when he wasn’t allowed to touch you. A shit-eating grin replaced his focused expression as he heard your breath hitch when he finally pinched your nipple, stopping for a second to effortlessly rip your shirt off over your head. Now exposed and riddled with goosebumps, Jeno sucked harder, leaving blemishes and marks all over your shoulder. His hands tweaked each nipple, pulling harder to draw more reactions from you.

This time, instead of a gasp, you simply grinded down on him out of instinct, the feeling finally pulling a moan from Jeno’s own throat. His chest still bare from when you had walked in on him earlier, pressed against your back as he held you close, pulling your little shorts off alongside your panties in one swift move.

You were embarrassingly wet, hating yet loving the way Jeno stared at you through the screen of his own computer. He watched you with hunger in his eyes, as if he was going to devour you, and the worst part is that you began to like the idea.

Your eyes shut close as you felt his fingers run down your slit, wetting them before he bullied two into you at once. You winced from the pain, not having time to recover before Jeno was thrusting in and out of you. His frustrations escaping him in the form of passion as his other hand planted gentle circles to your clit. Your cunt began to clench around him, a pit in your stomach forming as you let out moan after moan. It was only when he added another finger that you squirmed, the pit fully dropping. The shock on Jeno’s face was evident as a clear liquid covered both you and him once you came. Never in his life would he have expected you to squirt. He didn’t let out though, continuing to thrust his fingers in you until you fully rode out your high, clawing at his hands from the overstimulation.

Although he stopped, the breath you were catching got stuck in your throat once you felt something much larger than his fingers prodding at your cunt. He was big – honestly not a shock to you, who always heard him brag to the rest of your friends before he swore celibacy in solidation with you. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tip pulsing in you, or his strong arms wrapping around you to hold your inner thighs, spreading you out to the camera, full pussy on display.

Hearing your gasps, Jeno stopped to let you adjust, yet it didn’t last long as you clenched around him. Albeit slower than he wanted to, he entered inch by inch until his cock was fully enveloped by your heat. You felt so good, how he knew you would.

“‘Gonna move now, baby. Hold on to me.” You nodded although your eyes were painfully squeezing close. Jeno couldn’t take the slow pace as he thrusted in and out gently, and you granted his wish as you looked up towards his direction. “Y-you can move, Jen.” His moan was loud as he finally bottomed out, not nearly in as much control over his actions as he was before.

As soon as your pained whimpers shifted to soft gasps, he finally sped up, holding onto your thighs with a bruising grip. His moans were muffled as he whined into your neck. You felt every ridge and vein on his cock, stuffed deep inside of your cunt. Looking at the computer’s display, you felt yourself clench even more at the sight. With a clear view of Jeno’s face, the way he bit his lip and shut his eyes, you felt closer than ever. Jeno was close behind, not being able to take the tight squeeze you had around him anymore.

His pace fastened, thrusting up into you, pistoling in and out with desperation. “So good, fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, ‘wanted this as bad as me?” Your fucked out face was evident as you simply nodded your head, eyes rolling up into your head. With one more hard thrust, you came once more, followed quickly by him. The feeling of his spent shooting inside of you fogged your mind up, and you had to clamp a hand to your mouth to silence yourself.

Regaining his breath, he lifted you until his dick was fully out of you, laying you comfortably aside before standing up and approaching his laptop. Waving with a successful grin on his face, he shut the computer off. Putting on the nearest boxers on his bed, his next destination was the bathroom, where he gathered a warm wet towel to clean you up.

You weren’t asleep per se, when he came back, yet your refusal to open your eyes accompanied by your lack of speech told Jeno that you were too exhausted to function, so he let you lay down. In truth, he always dreamed of spoiling you, taking care of you after fucking you to sleep. The only indicator that you were still awake was the small squeeze you gave his hand when he laid behind you, swelling his heart with several emotions. The moment was perfect, one that would forever be remembered in his head as heaven, until he picked his phone up to check the time.

Can’t believe she squirted… screen recorded all that by the way dude, never thought I’d be so turned on watching you both lol

Jeno didn’t think twice before blocking Haechan’s contact, putting his phone down and cuddling back into you.

a/n: haiii guys i just realized i haven't made anything about jeno yet and ugh i was watching the poison track video he looks so goodddd that look is what i had in mind while making this i hope you guys enjoy :3

#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno x reader

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sturniololuv08 · 3 days ago

Text

Sadistic!Matt x Knife

“Love is a dagger"

**This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of Sadism.**

Sadistic (Sadism - The Act Of Being Sadistic)

Deriving (getting) pleasure from inflicting (causing) pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

Matt was losing his mind. No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the wonder of why you were so wet that night. He had gotten rough with other girls in the past, and they immediately backpedaled. He was back on the web, scrolling every nook and cranny of the dark web, trying to find that website again to buy you. He realized he needed you. Or at least needed to find out if he had accidentally killed you. He had been watching the news for a death in the hotel and hadn't heard anything yet. The link he was sent two nights ago was a one-time use link. So that wasn't an option. He had searched 'submissive' but was only turning up various porn. None of which were good enough for him. He was starting to feel discouraged, but the intensity of the orgasm you caused him was enough to keep him scrolling.

You were fine. You woke up on the mattress with a puddle of cum dripping out of you. Even that made you feel hot again. You just sat there thinking about his face and how intense his dark eyes were as he held the belt. He wanted to hurt you. You wondered if you hadn't even said anything about sex if he would have initiated it himself. You could tell he wasn't there for that. For the last two days, it has been nothing but 'more daddy' and 'yes sir.' You got tired of saying 'harder,' 'more,' or even nothing at all, being that you weren't allowed. You needed him. You got onto your submissive profile and clicked around. Messages were set to expire three hours after reading, so he was already gone. You just had to hope he repurchased you. You sat on your profile waiting for a ping, letting you know someone wanted you. Finally, tired of waiting, you got in the shower. You liked to stay as clean as possible in case someone wanted your services.

Matt was pacing in front of his computer, just losing his mind. The more he thought about you gargling your last breath of air, the more his need for you grew. He plopped down in his chair and started searching again. He had to find you. He had to buy you. After a few more random rabbit hole clicks, he ended up on a porn stream. A guy with a knife cutting a girl strapped to a bed. Typically, he would settle here and start stroking himself, but he found himself wanting to know more about you. He could tell you weren't like anyone else he had ever met. He needed to know what it was. He watched the stream all the way through, logging back in every thirty minutes, hoping he would get sent the same link at the end. His messages pinged. He felt himself rise with excitement.

"Fuck, yes." He clicked the link and scrolled to your profile, knowing exactly where he wanted to go. He filled out the credit card information as fast as he could. He sat bobbing his leg up and down, waiting for your response.

When do you want to meet up?

He felt relief in knowing you weren't dead. He wouldn't have cared too much about your actual death; he just would be worried if it got traced back to him. His fingers tapped his keys, this time knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

Now.

He found himself waiting for your response again, hoping he hadn't scared you.

324 Berry Avenue.

Just like last time, Matt was gathering himself up to leave. As he walked out the door, he saw a slight shimmer from the corner of his eye and looked in its direction, trying to trace the light's refraction. His eyes landed on where it was coming from.

"Perfect." He swiped the object and found himself driving only 15 minutes away from his house. He pulled up to a tiny house he easily could have passed on his way home from work a thousand times. He got out of the car and looked around, trying to make sure no one was watching him. He knocked on the door, and you opened it. Your hair was still a little wet from the shower you had just taken, and you were in a pink frilly silk nightgown, ready for bed.

You were just going to give up tonight and hope he messaged you at the right time tomorrow, but just as you got out of the shower, you got his message. You were doing something you had never done before in your life: you brought him to your house. Hotels, bars, even in their car, but never have you given anyone your personal address. He stepped in and started looking around, a reaction you expected.

"You really like this shit." He muttered. His voice wasn't cold.

"Excuse me?" You weren't understanding him.

"This pink frilly shit." He elaborated while touching a throw blanket.

"Oh, yes. It's my favourite." You were used to your white, pink, and grey home but forgot others wouldn't be accustomed to your aesthetic.

"Can we just get to it?" Matt was losing his patience.

"Of course." The corner of your mouth curled up. You grabbed his hand and led him into your bedroom. A place you have never fucked anyone before. Your room was your sanctuary, and you never wanted to give it up. But this guy, this guy, was different in every way possible.

"Sit on the bed," he instructed. You sat down. "I need to say something... or rather... ask something before we start." He didn't sound nervous, just unsure of what he wanted to say.

"Okay." You waited.

"How do you feel about like permanent marks?" He wasn't sure why he was asking, but instead of just cutting into your skin, he registered the slippery slope he was on.

"Fine." You shrugged. You wanted him to do anything he wanted to do to you; you had a feeling it was exactly what you wanted.

"Okay." He let out a breath and pulled an object out of his pocket. Your eyes widened, yearning at seeing the sharp silver blade in his hand. You didn't want to make him think you feared his proposed situation, so you blinked and nodded. You visibly saw his pants move at your consent to such a daring activity. "Fuck." He whispered. You leaned back on the bed to show your submission, something you were used to doing. He came walking over to you with a wicked grin on his face. Your fear matched your excitement. "Scoot back." He said at the edge of the bed. You shimmied back further. Your heart was pounding, and you were unsure of what he was planning. The way he wrapped the belt around your neck and squeezed without permission was the darkest, hottest thing anyone has ever done with your body. This time, he had permission; you gave it to him. He put the knife in between his lips as he crawled up your body. Once straddling you, he smacked you across the face. You bit your lips, trying not to smile. He took the knife out of his mouth. "Don't move." His voice was suddenly cold.

You were starting to feel yourself pulse. You stayed still to allow him the access he wanted. He trailed the knife over your silk fabric until it was on your chest. He put the knife back in his mouth. "Is something -" He used both his hands to grab your clothing and rip it straight down the middle, exposing your chest. You jumped at the sudden movement.

He slapped you hard. He replaced the knife in his fingers. "I said don't fucking move." With the knife, he lightly sliced across your chest. His cock throbbed, seeing the blood spill out. You weren't sure if he wanted you quiet or loud, so you winced, trying to hold in the painful noises you desperately wanted to make. "Ugh." He moaned. He gripped the knife tighter in his fist, looking like he wanted just to stab you in the chest and see your blood spurt out like a fountain.

"More." You moaned on accident. His gaze moved to your eyes in utter shock. You didn't know what to say about your outburst. He took the knife and made another incision. This one is deeper and more painful than the last. He made sure to drag it slowly so you felt every single serrated tip tearing apart your flesh. "Oh my fucking god."

"Yes." His head fell back in satisfaction. You weren't scared; you were turned on. Once you felt the pain settle into a sting, you moaned more. The blood tickled your sides as it trickled down onto your white sheets. He set the knife on the bed and shimmied his pants down, letting his dick spring out. You watched as he used your blood as a lubricant to stroke himself. With his erection stained pink, he moved his legs to open yours, allowing him the room he needed to put himself inside you. He glided in with ease. Again, he noticed how wet you were. It was making his head foggy. As he started moving in and out of you, he dipped his head low to lick a strip of red into his mouth. You couldn't take your eyes off of him.

Every move he made was the most erotic action you had ever seen. He grabbed the knife and made another cut across your chest. You felt him get harder inside you. As you arched your back, you felt the blood shift in its direction of flow. "Lick it." He held the knife near your lips. You hesitantly poked your tongue out. You actually feared him cutting your tongue. He moved the blade down your tastebuds. With your own blood on your lips, he felt himself unable to hold back now. His hips picked up their pace, slamming into you. He did something he had never done before. He bent down and kissed your red-tainted lips. He had never kissed anyone before. He smashed his mouth against your groaning, getting to taste more of your iron. You molded into the kiss following his lead. He used one hand to grab your breast and squeeze. More blood came running out, and the white cells were disrupted by his fingers tracing over the open wounds.

"Fuck me." You cried out. The only thing you needed now was for him to finish you. The pain was euphoric, making you dizzy. He placed his bloody hand on your neck and started riding you like a sex doll. He wasn't squeezing you unconscious this time, but you didn't mind. He looked up into your eyes from watching the blood move around your body. It wasn't until you smiled at him that he knew what kind of person you were. He had finally pieced it together. Your job, your wetness, your excitement for him. You licked the satin red ichor off your lips while he ravaged your pussy. His lust consumed him, but he needed that final thing to push him to his orgasm. He used his free hand to grab the knife one more time. As soon as he held it and saw the fear in your eyes from uncertainty, he felt a little familiar twitch. He took the knife and gave you one more long, drawn-out cut right on your breast near your nipple. This, being a very sensitive spot, hurt the worst. You started to tear up in your eyes.

"Going to fucking cry, baby?" He mocked you. And with that, you came. Your muscles contract on his cock and flood him with lightly pink juices. He liked seeing you cry. The pain bringing tears to your eyes made him ready to cum. He quickly pulled out and aimed for your bloody chest. His cum layered on top of the dark red streaks, making it a shiny, sticky pink. As soon as he was done, he put his clothes back on and started to walk out of the bedroom.

"Wait." You almost whispered, nervous. He stopped walking but didn't look at you. "What is your name?" You had to know. You were dying to know more about him.

"Matt." He said, walking out and closing your bedroom door.

Sadistic!Matt x Masochistic!Reader Taglist:

@mattsturnfx @trevorsgodmother @courta13 @mattscurlygirly @rhearipleyishot101 @matts-girlfriend @sturnzslut @cam1brie13 @skye-44 @sophia-77n @marialovessturniolo @delusionalbri @christophersmiddlefinger @sturns-mermaid @angelic-sturniolos111 @ivrsturniolo @christmastreecake @pair-of-pantaloons @xoxonothingbutu @shadowthesim

To be tagged you have to comment HERE to be added to the list! Will not do random tags because of TRIGGER WARNING CONTENT⚠️

Reblog Instructions: EXPRESS TRIGGER WARNING CONTENT

#sadistic!matt ✨️#masochistic!reader x sadistic!matt au ✨#sadistic!matt x masochistic!reader ✨️#matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x you #matt x reader #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine

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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 day ago

Note

I remember on ao3 you mentioned you wanted to post Stan and Ford reacting to readers death, I wanted to ask if you could share it please?<3

grief wears your name | Stan and Ford react to reader's death

Grief hits everyone differently and the Pines family is no exception. Old men arent supposed to outlive you

a/n: certainly! thank u for reminding me, tw: death

Stanley

you'd think that a man who’s been through as much as Stan Pines would’ve learned how to process grief by now. but the thing about Stan is, he doesn’t process it, not really. he pushes it down so deep that even he forgets it’s there, until it sneaks up and slams him flat on his ass.

fuck that, fuck everything, fuck this world

hell, he wasn’t supposed to outlive you. not you. not with all the shit he’d done to his body over the years, the cigarettes, the cheap booze, the sleepless nights every time he looked in the mirror. it was supposed to be him first. the old man with bad habits and a lifetime of regrets weighing him down. that was the deal, wasn’t it? you're too young, bright, stubborn, alive, you were supposed to outlast him. supposed to be there when his time came, rolling your eyes at his dramatics and holding his hand as he went. that’s how it was supposed to go, fucking fuck

he got the call from someone he didn’t recognize. a voice muttered words he couldn’t make sense of. your name. your fucking name. his ears rang, his head spun and his fingers gripped the receiver tightly

“what the fuck do you mean, gone?” the person on the other end tried to explain, but Stanley slammed the phone back onto the hook before they could finish. no. no.

you couldn’t be gone.

he saw you last week. he watched you smile at him across the counter, teasing him about his fez like you always did. he swore you winked at him before you left.

and now you were just. . . what? erased from existence?

grief had a way of making him ugly, uglier than he already saw himself. his hands shook as if he’d been drinking all night, but the bottle on the table was full and untouched. even the burn of whiskey couldn’t numb this, so what was the point?

Stanley thought about the kitten he’d brought home when he was ten. it was starving, ribs like piano keys beneath its dirty fur, the meows little animal let out were so pitiful. he'd sworn he’d take care of it, even made a little bed out of an old shoebox and named it tiger. he fed it milk behind his dad's back. tiger died three days later.

Stan felt useless, he couldn’t save anyone.

Stan hasn’t touched the fez since you died. it’s sitting there on the bedside table, gathering dust. you used to steal it all the time, yanking it off his head with a grin. “this thing’s ridiculous, Stan,” you’d tease, shoving it onto your head crookedly. “i’m the boss of scam now. bow to me.” and he always played along, rolling his eyes, calling you a pain in the ass, but you only laughed at that. that laughter was gone.

when Mabel asked him about you last night, he had to get up and leave the room because he wasn't ready for that. she was just a kid, trying to understand why the world was so unfair and he couldn’t give her an answer because he didn’t have one.

“grunkle Stan? do you think. . . do you think they’re still watching over us?” how could he tell her he didn’t believe in anything like that anymore? that you were just gone, snuffed out, like you’d never been here at all?

Mabel’s curled in his lap like she’s five again, clutching her sweater-covered arms around her knees, her face a swollen mess of tears and hiccupping sobs. her little voice is hoarse from crying and she tries to explain, through broken words, about the stupid sweater she’d been knitting for you. she just finished it. it was supposed to be a surprise. she was going to give it to you tomorrow.

Stan wraps his arms around her, calls her “pumpkin” in the softest voice he can manage, but it trembles. he squeezes his eyes shut so hard it makes his head hurt, he hopes if he can just keep them closed tight enough, none of this will be real. but it is. it fucking is. and he doesn’t know how to tell a twelve-year-old that the world is this fucking cruel. he doesn’t know how to admit he feels like that little boy again, the one with a kitten dying in his hands and nothing he could do to stop it.

he buries his face in Mabel’s brown hair and mutters some useless lie about how “it’s gonna be okay”

Mabel's face against his chest as she sobbed. Stan held her tighter.

“i made them a sweater, grunkle Stan. i-it’s pink with little stars and they- they said they'd wear it when it got cold,” her sobs swallowed the rest.

what could he say to that? what the hell could anyone say? “they loved your sweaters, kiddo. you know they did.” he wanted to picture you in that dumb pink sweater, smiling like you always did when you wanted to make Mabel feel special. but all he could see was you gone. gone. and nothing he could do would change it

Stanford

when he got the news about you, his meticulously constructed walls crumbled in an instant.

he sat at his desk, the journal open in front of him, its pages blurred by the tears he didn’t realize were falling. his hands shook as he gripped the pen, but the words just wouldn’t come.

he’d been taught from an early age that emotions were illogical. when he was younger, his father had told him to “quit being such a baby” after Ford cried over a broken model ship. that lesson had stuck

he locked himself in his study, the same place he’d last seen you. everything was still exactly where it had been. the chair you’d sat in. the pen you’d picked up and fiddled with while listening to him ramble. he’d always been embarrassed by how much he talked around you, because words came so easily when you were there.

the guilt was eating him from inside

was it his fault?

had he been too focused on his work, too distracted to notice that something was wrong? had he missed a chance to save you?

he needed answers. needed to know. what had happened? why had it happened?

he buried himself in research, poring over every detail of the accident or the incident, as he came to call it. his obsession grew, consuming him. he didn’t sleep. didn’t eat.

Stan found him one night, hunched over the desk, muttering to himself about alternate dimensions and cosmic energy. “Ford, this isn’t gonna bring them back.”

Ford didn’t respond because Stan was wrong.

Ford wasn’t trying to bring you back. he was trying to rewrite the universe so you’d never been gone in the first place

Dipper tries to talk to him one day, pulling at the hem of his vest clumsily. “grunkle Ford, is it okay to miss someone this much? like. . .this much that it hurts? my chest hurts.”

Stanford doesn’t know how to answer that. he doesn’t know how to explain the way grief wraps itself around your lungs and makes it impossible to breathe. “it is, Mason, it means they mattered.”

Dipper doesn’t see how Ford presses his hands to his temples when he leaves.

Ford’s always been good at pretending he’s fine.

Ford’s grief was quieter, but no less consuming. the guilt, the helplessness, the horrible emptiness that stretched wider every time he thought about how he’d failed to protect you.

he couldn’t stop thinking about all the times you’d parodied him, mimicking the way he pushed his glasses up his nose or how he’d say “actually” before correcting someone. “actually, Stanford Pines, you’re so predictable,” you’d giggle, tapping the bridge of your nose in a mocking gesture

you used to drive him insane with it, in good way. his face would flush, his words would stumble, and he’d act all huffy while secretly loving every second. he never told you how much he adored the way you made fun of him

he found one of your notebooks the other day. it was tucked under a pile of his old research papers, pages scrawled with your handwriting. you’d doodled little caricatures of him in the margins, stick-figure versions of Ford with six fingers and exaggerated glasses, accompanied by sarcastic captions like, “the nerdiest but prettiest man i ever knew”

he stared at those drawings until his vision blurred from tears. then he shoved the notebook in a drawer and locked it.

...

Ford disappears the next morning.

he knows it’s selfish, leaving Stan and the kids to deal with all of this without him, a part of family, but he can’t be in that house another second. the walls are suffocating. so he grabbed his coat, your coat, the one you used to borrow when you’d say his was warmer and walked, his feet already knew where they’re going.

the woods. the same path you always loved, where the sunlight filtered through the trees beautifully, where you used to point out birds or mushrooms or anything that caught your curious eye. you’d tug on his sleeve to make him stop and look. and god, you were so beautiful when you smiled at him like that. Ford adored you.

Ford doesn’t remember sitting down in the clearing where you used to spend time together, his knees in the dirt, fists clenched in the grass. he hadn’t cried when he found out, hadn’t even let himself feel it because there were too many faces looking at him like he was supposed to have answers. now there’s nothing but the woods, only memory of you and the sound of his own ragged breathing breaking into loud sobs

Ford cries like a child. raw, aching grief pouring out of him in waves, making his glasses fog up, slipping down his nose and he doesn’t bother fixing them. his body doesn’t know how to process this kind of pain. his hands too busy clawing at the ground, hoping he could dig deep enough to find you again.

Ford Pines, the man who always thought he could think his way out of anything, is completely unmade.

he doesn’t know how long he sits there, crumpled against the base of a tree. his hands tremble as he takes the notebook out of his coat pocket, the one he used to write down little things you’d say or do that he didn’t want to forget. he flips through it now, pages ruined with his tears and it hurts worse than anything else. your handwriting’s there, little notes you’d leave for him.

“don’t forget your glasses!”

“your hair looks cute today <3”

“i love you, Ford.”

he shuts the notebook and presses it to his chest, it's the only part of you he has left.

the stars above didn’t care. the trees didn’t care. the world kept turning, indifferent to the fact that you’d been torn from it.

and Ford was left there in the cold void, feeling smaller than he ever had in his life.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls smut #stanford pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines smut #ford pines smut #stan pines x you #stanley pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stanford pines headcanons #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #stan pines x oc #stan pines

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hauntedhokage · 3 days ago

Text

Leaving anonymous love notes for you to find + Sae Itoshi from Silver's prompt list

You left the door to your office unlocked, since as the team's social media manager you didn't really have anything confidential to lock up, but you think that was about to change. For the last week you'd come in to find some note left somewhere on your desk for you to find, each one containing a sweet message - but not knowing who they came from made you a bit uncomfortable.

The first just telling you that you looked beautiful the day before.

The second a note that you always looked beautiful, but he loved how you looked in the team's jersey.

The third a reminder to stay hydrated, left with a couple bottles of your favorite brand of water (you didn't even know how anyone knew something like that)

The fourth, fifth, and sixth also came with gifts. A couple small boxes of snacks and a little plaque that said 'best instagram photographer', both making you a bit emotional at how much this guy thought about you.

Today's message was left on a sticky note stuck to your monitor, wishing that they could ask you out on a date but fearing that their reputation would have you declining to protect yourself from that reputation. The handwriting is neat, font small to ensure it would fit on the sticky note, and you tuck it away in a folder that had the other seven. The handwriting was consistent, and the words felt much too genuine for it to be the team messing with you because they thought they were funny.

But you do watch them all closely throughout the day, getting to mess with them during their practices and team meetings giving you the opportunity for closer interactions that you used to gauge whether they were acting differently towards you. Unfortunately the only thing out of place was the fact that Sae actually stopped to entertain the meme you were recording content for.

"Why do you have this picture?"

"I'm trying to get your autograph." Your response gets a snort from the midfielder, but he accepts your sharpie and takes the picture from your hands. It's old, Sae had to have been around five or six kicking around a soccer ball. "Your mom was excited to send it to me. Think I might frame it."

His reaction wasn't as outwardly amused or embarrassed as the other guys you'd ambushed that day, but the fact that you'd gotten any reaction from him at all made your day. He was cute when he smiled, you wished you could see more of that from him.

"I'll see you later, I'm sure," he states, handing the picture back to you before adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Yeah," you murmur, watching in surprise as he walks away from you to get to the locker room.

You end up working late, usually being out of the stadium before the team finished their practice, but you wanted to get your next few videos edited so you could relax and respond to funny comments for the rest of the week. It takes you some deliberation, but you do decide to lock your office to see what your admirer would do next without being able to steal your stationery.

Sae is coming down the hall when you leave, something that wasn't surprising since he was notorious for practicing later than the rest of the team. Most of the team had popped in to say goodnight, a couple asking if you needed someone to hang out and make sure you made it home, and you happily wave them off with a promise to see them in the morning. But not Sae, and that was because he was leaving now. There's a paper in his hand, and he looks surprised to see you leaving as he approached.

"You're still here?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug, turning the key to lock the door and meeting his gaze to see the obvious question. "Someone is using my papers and stuff to leave me love notes, I don't hate it but I'm trying to get them to reveal themselves."

You just aren't ready to get your answer when Sae takes the paper in his hand and slides it under your door. He doesn't say anything, just tilts his head in a silent invitation that you can't help but accept. He was so weird, but you were into it.

"Does this mean I can get you on a livestream?"

"Don't push it."

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae itoshi x y/n #sae ithoshi x you #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #bllk imagines #bllk fics #sae itoshi fics

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practicalgauntlet · 2 days ago

Text

Something Sweet

Synopsis- You and Spencer are stuck in the bullpen doing paperwork. Everyone else has left for home or gone out for a drink, what a perfect time for such a delicious meal.

Category- Smut

Key- (---) =POV change

Notes- Chubby!Reader, None of my stuff will ever include Hard Dom Spencer because I just don't believe that man is into anything super kinky like slapping his partner around, that being said this includes smut, touching, unprotected sex, sex on a desk, semi-public sex (because they do it out in the open but no one is around)blow jobs, heavy tension build-up, mutual pining, established flirting, body worshiping, Female reader (if anyone wants I can repost this with different genders but I am a female so I find it easier to write smut with female anatomy), early season spencer (1-6)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The bullpen had long since been emptied, the last one to leave was your stoic boss with a tight-lipped 'good luck'. You had been nose-deep in the paperwork of your last case, the brutal story of a little boy and his dad, when you realized you were alone. Or so you thought you were.

There was a sense of unease witnessing such a busy place, usually rife with chaos and life, settle down for the night. The massive windows only further aided that feeling, with the cloud-shrouded, moonlit sky your only true beacon of light. But you were almost done, only a few pages left until you could hail a cab and be closer to the warm comfort of your bed.

However, if you wanted to finish the papers soon, you needed something to soothe the piercing ache in your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Oh, that's right, you went out with Emily and the girls for lunch. With a quick glance at your wristwatch, you grumbled at the time. It was now eleven-thirty, which made it roughly ten hours since you had last eaten.

You stand up from your desk, arms instinctively shooting high above your head to relieve the tension that clung to your back and shoulders. You couldn't help the way your eyes darted to the darkest corners of the room or the way you hovered your hand above your gun as you walked down the hall to the break room. The dark had always made you antsy, but after years of hunting the monsters that went bump in the night, you knew to be cautious.

When you turned the corner though, you saw the sterile white light of the breakroom illuminate the hall, banishing all thoughts of hidden dangers and bringing forth the fear of an intruder. Sure you couldn't be the only one in this building staying later to finish work, but you could have sworn you said goodbye to everyone. And after all those times this place had been infiltrated, you didn't hesitate to unclip your holster and slide your gun into your hands.

You didn't click off the safety though, the possibility of an innocent life was still high enough that you didn't want to risk anything. As you pressed yourself to the wall, adrenaline corsing through your blood, you slowly creep towards the breakroom.

It wasn't until you were at the open doorway, gun half raised for both possibilities, that you realized you weren’t the only agent burning the midnight oil. Spencer Reid was at the counter, his hands splayed on the counter on either side of the coffee pot he was yawning over.

"Jeeze, Spence." You murmured, you heartbeat still racing. It didn't help that Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and forgone his usual sweater in favor of a white dress shirt. His hair was wild, like he had spent the past few hours running his hands through it. "You scared me."

"Sorry," He simply said, turning his head towards you. "Do you want a cup?"

If it'll keep him there, displayed for your greedy eyes; then yes. "I'd never say no coffee."

The tired smirk that flashed across his face made your knees weak. Even if he looked completely ran ragged, tired from the day and whatever paperwork you assumed he was staying late for, he still managed to send heat through your body.

You walk up to him, turning and leaning back against the counter to join him in watching the coffee pot slowly fill up. The two of you didn't talk at that time, only glancing at each other when the other wasn't looking.

"Did you know," Spencer started having reached his quota of tension filled silence. "In the eighteenth century, some governments tried to ban coffee because they thought it would encourage radical thinking."

"I did not know that." You chuckle, loving the way he turns his head to look at you. Spencer's big brown eyes seemed to swirl with emotion, something heady yet fragile.

The coffee machine beeps, startling the two of you out of your impromptu staring contest. Spencer goes about searching for your favorite mug, grabbing his along the way, and filling the two up. He dumps a shit load of sugar in his but leaves yours empty. "It's funny, in all the years we've known each other, I don't know how you take your coffee."

You grab the mug, body lighting up with excitement when you have to reach across Spencer to get to it. He doesn't move out of your way, only watching as your hand just barely brushes against his stomach.

"Depends on what mood I'm in." It wasn't until you heard your voice in your own ears that you notice the sultry tone to it.

Spencer leans in, not enough to count as a move but enough that you notice he was both infinitely closer than before and still miles apart from you. "And what mood are you in?"

Your breath escapes you, crawling out of your lungs and into the open air between the two of you. Your next words were no more than a whisper. "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The smile that graced his face was something you had never seen Spencer wear. Especially not in a situation like this. It was confident, sure...heated. "Good to know."

Spencer said nothing else as he sipped from his mug and walked back to the bullpen.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The next time you find yourself staying at headquarters later than the rest of the team, you weren't surprised to find Spencer still seated at his desk. And just like last time, Spencer had relaxed thoroughly at his desk. He was sporting his white dress shirt again only this time his tie hung on the back of his chair with his vest and he had unbuttoned the top two buttons.

You found it hard to focus on your work, what with Spencer just a few desks away from you. Instead of the last case and what you were supposed to write down regarding all that had transpired, you couldn't take your eyes away from the cut of his jaw. Or the column of his throat. Or the tone forearms he rested on the edge of his desk. The way his lips rapidly moved as he whispered to himself while his fingers swiftly trailed down the page.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs and relieve yourself of the building pressure between your legs. In the emptiness of the bullpen, your movement echoed and drew the attention of Spencer. He looked up and smiled, not at all privy to your internal battle and rising blood pressure.

---

What you didn't know though, was that he was watching you from his peripheral; aware that your eyes were on him. He noticed you moving around as if you couldn't quite get comfortable, shifting back and forth in your chair every now and then.

When he looked up at you, your chair creaking loudly throughout the room, he had caught you. You swiftly look down, pretending to write something down while a blush crept up your cheeks.

Spencer didn't know what was going on between the two of you, it was something he had never experienced in his life. He knew all species were driven to find mates through different methods of appeal. What he didn't expect was to be affected by that natural urge to attract. When it came to you, he felt suave, confident, and appealing. Words and actions naturally bypass his strict filter and he became someone he'd never thought he'd become.

When you would look up at him with a bright smile, he could always tell what you were thinking. Especially once he caught your eyes darting to his lips. But he never felt good enough, not as he flirted back, not as he fantasized about what you would taste like on his tongue. No, Spencer Reid was a destined loser, fated to a life surrounded by only friends and family. Not a beautiful woman who'd allow him the great privilege of touch and pleasure.

Again, he found himself acting without thinking. He had waved you over, desperately needing to see your face more clearly, yearning to feel the warmth of your body next to his.

You slowly got up, hesitant at first but the closer you got the more confident your stride became. You sat at the desk in front of him and when you sat down your legs brushed against his. It sent a jolt through his body, igniting a flame that had slowly been stoked over time.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sound was pages being flipped. Spencer couldn't focus on his paperwork anymore, too engrossed in the way your leg kept brushing against his. It was like you wanted to torture him slowly; with every shift of your hips.

A couple times he peeked at you after your ankle knocked with his to see if you were doing it on purpose. But it seemed as if you put all your willpower into the paper before you. Spencer noticed that you hadn't moved on from that one page in the half hour you had sat next to him. Maybe you were just as affected by this as he was.

To test his theory, he sank a little lower in his seat, spreading his legs and taking up more room. You stiffened when he gently shifted his foot to touch yours, then the other. He gauges your reactions, forming a hypothesis as to why you were so wound up.

Taking it further, his work completely forgotten, Spencer straightened up and leaned forward. This drew your attention, pulling your eyes to his like the speed of light. "I think I'm in the mood for something sweet."

Spencer relished in the blush that he brought to your cheeks and knew he was right. You felt the same pull that he felt. You were riddled with the same yearning he was. He hummed with delight, standing up and holding his hand out for you. You took it hesitantly, curious as to what had taken over him.

Instead of taking you to the breakroom like you thought he was going to, he spun you around so that your ass was pressed against the edge of your desk. You gasped with surprise as Spencer leaned forward and blocked you in with his hands on either side of your hips. The man in question was surprised aswell, his actions skewing so far away from his intentions. But now that he had you in his grasp, your perfume clouding your mind, he couldn't stop himself as he leaned in.

Your lips were as soft as he imagined. The way his whole world turned upside down the moment his mouth was pressed to yours and his hands found purchase on your hips just so he could have something to hold on to.

His mind spun as his hands uncontrollably kneaded the soft flesh of your hips and waist. You pulled back, your breath fanning across his face as you greedily took in the air he stole from you. Spencer only allowed you a second or two before diving back in, tilting his head so he could access your mouth better.

It felt like his body was acting on pure instinct, every thought, every fact and statistic evading his mind. He was sure if someone asked him about anything other than the way you felt or tasted he would come up blank.

Spencer couldn't help the groan of delight as your hands flew to his chest, skirting up his shirt and landing on his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him deeper into the kiss as you cart your fingers through his hair.

If Spencer believed in heaven, this would be it.

---

Spencer had you pinned to the table, his hands roaming over your backside like he was trying to memorize the feel. In a split second three things happened. Spencer slotted himself between your legs, drawing his knee up and pressing his thigh against your throbbing cunt. The sudden and delicious friction had you gasping and Spencer took the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth. It took only half a second for your tongues to touch before the two of you let out a shuddering moan.

The sound rang out into the bullpen, echoing throughout the empty room and drawing the two of you back into reality. Spencer looked at you with wide eyes, like he had been acting solely on impulse. "Is," He cleared his throat, closing his eyes for just a second before leaning his forehead against yours. "Is this okay?"

You pull your hands out of his hair and down to his cheeks, cupping his face so he could look you in the eyes. "It's more than okay, Spence."

Again, he closed his eyes as if he were holding something back. The next time he spoke, his voice was ragged and strained. "You taste as sweet as I imagined."

You didn't like being so far away from him, so you pulled him back to you and met his eager mouth with yours. One of his hands trailed up your body, leaving a blazing path up your side. You felt his breath shudder once he reached your heavy breast, his hand at the edge of your ribcage as his thumb gently rested below your nipple.

"Can I-" He murmured against your lips and before he could even ask you've popped the buttons of your blouse.

Spencer pulls back to admire you, his deft fingers gently pulling the fabric away to expose your bra. In a bout of abnormal confidence, Spencer slips your blouse off your shoulders and unhooks the clip of your bra.

In the dim light of Spencer's desk lamp, you could see the caramel brown of his eyes taken completely over by his blown iris. He's blatantly staring at your tits, the cold air hitting your exposed skin and sending goosebumps over your arms.

"You're," He hums again, only this time it sounds like a broken, strangled groan. "You're so beautiful."

Before you could respond, Spencer grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up on the desk. Not a moment later his mouth was enveloping your nipple. The wet heat of his mouth, of his tongue, on your skin was pure ecstasy. The way he swirled his tongue over your nipple before sucking the skin into his mouth.

His other hand came up and palmed your lonely breast, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple to mimic his mouth. He kissed all across your chest, sucking on spots until you felt blood pool to the surface.

"Spence..." You sigh, loving the feel of him but needing his skin on yours, needing him to chase the chill that threatened to creep in. When he didn't let up, you pulled at his hair and brought his face close to yours. "Spence, take off your shirt."

The look on his face was adorable, with his eyes blown wide and dark, a goofy smile stretching his face as he looked at you like you were worth the world. "Yeah," That smile never left his face. He pulled away from you only far enough to undo the buttons of his dress shirt and slip the fabric off of his shoulders.

You pull him back to you, the heat of his skin as delicious as you needed it. He met you in the middle, your chest pressed against him as his mouth ravaged yours. Spencer shifted to get closer to you. In doing this, he pressed his hips into you and you felt the hard outline of his cock in his slacks.

You experimentally roll your hips, both desperate for friction and curious as to how he'd react. He hunched over, his body shaking around you, and groaned. You did it again and he tossed his head back, exposing the delicious column of his throat.

You wanted to mark him like he marked you, so you leaned forward and latched on. You kissed and sucked all over his neck and while you were distracted, Spencer grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him.

Over and over again, he thrust into you. With his hips growing more erratic, you pull away from his neck and take his face in your hands. "Spence, Spence, stop."

Immediately he jumped back, his face flushed and his breath ragged. " Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry, I couldn't control myself."

He was too far, the open air of the bullpen nipping at your exposed skin. Instead of pulling him closer, you hop off the desk and peel off your skirt.

"You did nothing wrong, we just can't have you coming in your pants now can we?"

Spencer was watching your every move. His eyes tracked the way you hooked your thumbs into your waistband and slowly slid the skirt off for him. Thank god you chose comfort today, you didn't know how embarrassing it would be to try and seductively take off a pair of pantyhose.

You kicked off your shoes and stood before Spencer in just your panties. He was tense, hands opening and closing at his sides as he watched you with heavy lids. Half wanting to get him adjusted to the situation and half because you were dying to taste him, you drop to your knees in front of him and slide your hands up his thighs.

"This okay?" You ask, making sure his comfort is put above all else.

He reaches for your cheek, sliding his palm into your hair so he is holding your face at just the right angle. "More than okay."

You undo his button, then his zipper, slowly pulling down his pants in the process. Just because you were selfish and desperate, you shuck off his boxers along with his slacks and finally he was free.

His cock bobbed in front of you, pulsing with desire. It was hot to the touch as you wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few experimental strokes. The noises he was already making were pure ecstasy and you hadn't even taken him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck-" Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you plant a little kiss on the head of his cock.

You flick your tongue out, tasting the salty precome that wept from the tip. Slowly, you wrapped your mouth around him, flattening your tongue so you could take him better.

Spencer let out a long, ragged groan as swirled your tongue over that sensitive little nerve under the head. His hands flew to your hair, gently pushing your head down and pulling you back before you could gag. You bobbed your head only three times before he was yanking you back and gripping the base of his cock.

"Hold on, hold on."

You look up at him, watching as he staves off his orgasm. You couldn't help but enjoy the sight. Spencer Reid, the passionate and seemingly innocent young Doctor was looking down at you with his cock in his hand.

You bit your lip at the sight, ready to devour him whole if he let you. Spencer closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he pulled you up by your hand. He led you back to the desk, urging you to sit back on it. You oblige, excited to finally feel full of his cock. But when Spencer gets to his knees, you let out a whine of disappointment

"I want to return the favor." He said as he stared at your throbbing cunt like a starved man sat before a buffet. But you were ready, you needed him now.

You gently tugged on his hair until he was looking at you. "As much as I'd love for you to go down on me, Spence, I need you."

"I'm right here."

"No," You look at him pointedly, slipping your hand down your stomach so you can trail your fingers through your slick. " I need you. Please, Spence."

His eyes widened and he abruptly stood. "I don't, I don't have a condom."

You spread your legs, hoping the glistning of your need was enough to persuade him. "I'm on the pill, it's okay."

He let out another shuddering breath, his hands tentatively taking your legs and wrapping them around his back. With a hand on his cock, he aligns himself with you. Spencer didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed in.

The stretch of him, the burn, was like nothing you've ever felt. A loud,, echoing moan wrenched itself out of you as he went deeper. He's still pushing in, pausing every now and then so the two of you can catch your breath. Once he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, and he takes his hand to your cheek.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Never in your life had you heard Spencer talk like this, so vulgar, so heated. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he studied. The two of you sit still for a moment, basking in his gaze and his cock and his body and everything that was Spencer Reid.

"You have to move, please, you have to move." You whisper, feeling that sudden, desperate need for him to take over once again.

"Right," He mutters, that goofy smile back on his face. It falls the moment he pulls back, keeping his cockhead inside before pushing back in.

Spencer's eyes are screwed shut as his thrusts pick up the pace. It was slow like molasses and built a different type of pressure than you were used to.

"I'm not going to last long, " He whispers, arms shaking from where they were braced by your head.

"That's okay, Spence, just let go."

You slide your hands between the two of you, your middle finger swirling across your clit to get yourself to come faster. You wanted nothing more than to become undone with him.

Spencer groaned in your ear, whispering sweet nothings as he kisses and sucks more hickies onto your neck. Once he notices your hand, he slaps it away and replaces your finger with his thumb.

It was a new sensation, his now positioning thrusts joining with the rough way he was treating your clit. You were ricocheted into an orgasm faster than ever before.

White hot pleasure flooded you as you curled into Spencer. Not a moment later you feel him settle as deep as he can and moan into your neck. Warmth is spread inside you, leaking out of your spent pussy and onto Spencer's cock.

It took the two of you a few minutes to gather your breath and remember who and where you were. Spencer was still on top of you, his softening cock slipping out as he pulled away.

That stupid, adorable, goofy smile didn't leave his face. Not as he helped you up, not as he littered your face with sweet peering kisses, not even as he watched you get dressed. You felt an ache deep within your facial muscles and realized you wore that same grin.

Spencer was still all over you, holding you close to him and kissing you wherever he could get his lips. "Can't I go down on you next time?"

"Next time?"

Spencer's face fell. "I mean, if you want a next time."

You chuckle and give him a quick peck on the cheek, not at all satisfied with him yet. "How about you come back to my place if you're still so eager?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #smut #criminal minds

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spiderb00 · 2 days ago

Text

REST IN ME

Anora x reader

“After everything Ani has been through, the universe has finally given her the peace she has always wanted, you.”

Genre – Fluff Warnings – Just comfort, my poor girl has suffered enough

Now playing – Stargazing, by The Neighbourhood

Anora was awakened by the rays of sunlight that came in through the half-open curtain. It was only seven in the morning, she didn't want to wake up so early, but just not having to wake up with the noises of the train passing practically inside her old house, she was already happy.

Turning over on the bed, she reached for you, despite the sun streaming in through the window, she was starting to get cold now that you were no longer there to warm her up. She picked up the phone on the bedside table, looking at the time and sighing, where had you gone so soon?

Ani had known you a two and a half years ago now, you and she met after all the traumatic experience she went through with Vanya. It took a long time for her to trust you after everything that rich jerk did to her, but at some point, she just accepted that she was falling in love with you. At the beginning of your relationship, she was extremely suspicious, always thinking that everything you did for her was an exchange, something dirty that hovered in her mind.

All of these thoughts stopped after you confronted her, telling her that you understood all the traumas and that you loved her, but you wouldn't continue in a relationship where she didn't feel totally comfortable with you. After that, everything changed, she told you everything, her wishes, her dreams, her achievements, the bad things and the good things. When you asked her if she missed something, the only thing she said was "It was nice to be a trophy wife for a few days."

So it was done, you weren't as rich as Vanya, but you could give everything Ani wanted. You worked in the real estate business from a very young age, following in your father's footsteps, the older man had left many teachings for you before leaving, and you managed to make good use of everything.

Ani is the woman of your life, you knew how hard that girl had worked practically her entire life, and you were more than happy to give her everything she wanted. A house in a posh neighborhood? it was hers. A car? it was hers. Expensive trips? she had. Marriage and children? You were working on it.

In the midst of all this, Ani understood that there was a big difference about how Vanya treated her and how you treated her. She didn't want to make comparisons, but at one point, it was simply impossible to say that she had the same trophy wife experience with the two of you. Despite the expensive gifts and without doing any work, Ani understood that having sex and watching that spoiled idiot play video games was not very well the definition of a trophy wife.

You adored Ani, you would lick the floor she walked on if she asked you to, you were devoted to her. Money wasn't the only thing that made Ani look powerful, you made her look that way. Ani had one certainty with you, you were in love with her, you loved her above all, you would do anything for her.

In the little things, all the little gestures and attitudes were what made Ani sure that you loved her deeply, the peace and tranquility of being loved that she had never received from anyone before, the calm and peace of knowing that you would solve any problem, as an adult.

Going downstairs, Ani saw your dog lying in the living room, near the couch. Nico had been rescued by you in an alley, while you were going to visit Ani at her old house. You took him along with you to the date you and she would have that day, it was kind of a pretext for Ani to finally come and live with you.

You and Ani were sitting on the towel, the little ball of fur lying on your girlfriend's lap, his little eyes closing with the caresses she made on his head.

"Hey, if I knew you would steal my girlfriend's attention I wouldn't have brought you." You said, a whisper loud enough for Ani to hear and let a giggle escape, lightly pushing your shoulders.

"Stop, it's not his fault that he's cuter than you." Hearing her words, you threw yourself back, your back resting on the thin fabric, which made you feel the grass beneath it.

"Ouch, I'm dying! Please someone help me, this beautiful woman just stabbed my heart!" You said, a little too loud, making Ani turn towards you and cover your mouth, still giggling at your childish behavior.

"Shut up, you idiot, do you want everyone to listen to your little drama?" Ani watched your eyes widen and then you tried to scream again.

Your muffled words could be heard only by Ani, who still had her hand against your mouth, to prevent a scene. Seeing that you had finally finished with your little theater, she let you go, instantly seeing the big smile on your face.

"You're so stupid." The brunette said, rolling her eyes as she tried to hide a laugh.

"And you're very BORING!" You shouted the last part, taking Ani – by surprise – by the shoulders and making her lie down next to you.

Unable to hide her laughter this time, the woman laughed out loud, making the little puppy jump between you and bark. With your attention focused on the little puppy, you supported your weight on one of your elbows, turning to your girlfriend and placing the puppy between the bodies of the two of you.

"So, do you have a name suggestion?" You asked, petting the puppy, who was now lying on his back, one of his paws moving when you scratched in the right place.

"How about Nico?" The brunette said, something in the way she said it made you think she had been plotting this for a while.

"I like it. But why Nico?" You asked, seeing if you could get something out of the beautiful brunette.

"It's just... A junction." Ani said, more shy than usual.

"Work it out, baby." Her eyes were beautiful in the light of the sunset.

"You know, my name is Ani, and people call you Conrad, I just thought, it might be kind of silly..." She looked away.

Some people close to you called you Conrad, it was your father's last name, and you didn't mind carrying it around a little from time to time.

"I loved it." You said, taking a strand of hair that fell in front of the brunette's face. You loved the little sparkles in her hair, it was so Anora. "That's it, Nico. I loved it." You said, approaching and kissing Ani.

Your lips glued to hers for a few seconds, before you pulled away to play with Nico, who was biting your shirt. If you looked twice, you would see the adoring look that Ani had for you. Anora had never said "I love you" to you, but at that moment, she was stuck, that's all she wanted to say. The fear of being scorned once again held him in her tongue, but it didn't take more than a week for her to say it out loud, jumping with happiness when you gave her the key to the apartment of the two of you.

Petting the dog's ears - who was now grown up - Ani heard the door open, looking in the direction of the sound and seeing you enter with a multitude of bags in your hands.

"Hey, are you awake?!" You said, leaving the bags on the kitchen counter and running to the couch to talk to your girlfriend.

Leaning in slightly, you kissed Ani's lips lovingly, sitting next to her and petting Nico before taking off your running shoes.

"I can't sleep when you're not there to warm me up." The brunette said, pulling your compression shirt so that you leaned completely against the couch.

"Where have you gone, baby? Why so many bags?" Ani asked, snuggling on your chest, when you finished taking off your shoes.

"Well, I went for a run to the gym and then stopped by the supermarket to buy some ingredients for dinner with my parents." You said, kissing Ani's forehead, making the woman raise her head, your kisses going down to her nose and finally leaving a little seal on her lips.

Anora adored your parents, and your parents adored her. Ani was very happy when everything went well, she was very nervous before meeting your mother and stepfather. You had a good relationship with your mother's current husband, he took care of you from the age of fifteen until now, and you are grateful for everything he does for you, and if you were happy, Ani was happy.

"I'm going to make your favorite." You said, kissing the woman's lips once more. God, you didn't want to let go of her ever again.

"I love you." Ani's eyes looked directly at yours, you felt like you were in the clouds every time she looked at you like that.

"I love you more." You joined your lips with hers, a calm kiss full of love. The hearts of both of you beating hard in your chest, the burning love and the flame that never went out creating more strength within you. Every moment like this was like a reminder to Anora, a message that she would never be alone again, that she had you forever.

"I think we have to enjoy it a lot before we have company in the house." the woman said, her hands trying to take off your compression shirt.

"You don't even want to eat breakfast?" You asked, knowing the answer your future wife would give.

"You're my breakfast." Ani said, kissing your neck and jaw, whimpering like a child when she couldn't take off your shirt as she wanted.

"Anora, you're going to be the death of me." She smiled. Amazingly, she never felt bothered that you called her by her real name, sometimes even preferring it more than when you called her Ani. "Shower?"

"Let's start the day, baby."

Hi guys, how are you? I hope everyone is well.

This is a little different from what I usually write around here, but I've been obsessed with Mikey since scream 5, so when I saw her in Anora my crush for her ignited again (she never went out).

I needed to write about her, I wanted to write something for Mikey too, in the same style, something fluff, but anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.

Drink water, stay safe and go watch Anora!

xoxo, spider.

#mikey madison x reader #anora x reader #anora mikheeva x reader #ani mikheeva x reader #gxg imagine #wlw imagine

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lovemyromance · 2 days ago

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I have asked this question to the Gwynriels before and I have never received a rational, logical response.

When we read the words "secret thing of lovely beauty", this was in regard to Elain FIRST. Anyone who tries to skirt around it by saying "oh it was only about the necklace, he doesn't mean Elain herself" is purposefully being dense. Sorry, but we both know it. Pretending it's ONLY Azriel suddenly being poetic about a mere NECKLACE does not change the fact that he picked it out FOR Elain.

The necklace was a metaphor for Elain, first.

Then, later in the BC, Elain gives the necklace back because she feels rejected by Azriel. Azriel gives the necklace to Clotho to give to Gwyn. He then thinks about how the necklace would give Gwyn joy, and pictures her smile as a "thing of secret, lovely beauty."

My question is... are yall not the SLIGHTEST bit suspicious that the exact same wording was used?

If he had just pictured her smile and whatever spark - okay that's one thing. If he had described it as ANYTHING else, and we know SJM is very poetic and creative when it comes to describing these cutesy smiling shy moments.

Why did she use the SAME phrase?

Could she REALLY not think of anything else?

In fantasy, the rule of thumb when reading is to pay attention to the repetitive things. When the author repeats something, it means it's something of significance.

To me, the fact that she used the exact same phrase is something significant. It raised the alarm for me.

Could it be one way to show how he transitioned from wanting Elain to wanting Gwyn in the span of 4 hours? Sure.

But the exact. Same. Phrase?

It's a significant phrase. Not like her typical repetition of "vulgar gesture" and "watery bowels".

I say it's not about a mating bond because if SJM was introducing Gwynriel even hypothetically - why would she do it in a bonus chapter, with a regifted necklace that Azriel didn't even personally give her, and with a secondhand phrase? She's a goddamn romance author. I highly doubt she just got lazy and thought nobody would notice 😭

Isn't there the smallest chance that maybe-just maybe- it wasn't about a mating bond, but about something else? Something else worth paying attention to?

When has SJM ever done that? Especially within the span of a few pages?

It just doesn't make any sense 🤷🏻‍♀️ I don't want to get into polarizing lightsinger theory discussions or trigger any arguments but I think the BC ending was about something else entirely.

#elriel #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #elain #pro elriel #not tagging Gwynriel because they're going to say this is anti Gwynriel even though I don't say anything bad about the ship #not tagging Gwyn bc her stans will come for me for questioning her existence

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gremlinshatephilosophers · 2 days ago

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Finally talking about the dream I had about Dan and Phil before tour started (I am aware it sounds insane which is why I haven't told this for months):

In fan photos from the European leg of the tour, Dan's knuckles were constantly bloody. He never mentioned it or anything, but it was long enough that it wasn't just a one-off thing. The phandom decided this was the one time for not speculating and having boundaries, and remarkably said nothing. The vibe was very much "eh, his hands got fucked up and we're focused on the tour content." The mainstream news, though, was OBSESSED. Like, CNN was regularly running stories asking why Dan's hands were always bloody, trying to get the inside info on these touring youtubers.

I was a reporter at the time, and I was assigned to follow Dan and Phil and figure out what was up. Which at first was sort of fine, then I felt really shitty about it because I was basically spying on them and getting weird paparazzi shots. And it was clear that my job required me to be spying on them and basically harassing them. The media (including me) were so invasive that they had to cancel the tour bus in america, and decided to do the entire tour by boat (how they were going to reach cities that didn't have a coast or river idk). But on the phyacht, no one could follow them the way they could with a bus.

Except for me, because I snuck onto the fucking boat.

Then I see Dan, crawling up the stairs from the inside of the boat to the deck on his hands and knees, knuckles down on the metal stairs. He does this every single time and refuses to walk up the stairs normally, and clearly this is why his hands are always bloody. Great news for my job, except it's the worst answer to know because Dan doing this constantly and not telling anyone means he's either having a mental break or it's a really weird kink, neither of which I want to be publicly reported on.

Of course, it's not that big of a boat and Dan and Phil find out I've stowed away on it and they're fucking pissed, which is understandable. I try from then on to leave them the fuck alone, I keep my distance on the boat now that I have an answer. (They also can't kick me off the boat, because of some obscure journalism law?)

So I keep following them into every venue, and they look like they want to murder me 24/7, meanwhile I'm scoping out the back of the theaters to check for other photographers because I don't want someone else to find out and write something worse than whatever I'll inevitably have to report. One time I see there's a room full of people they don't know about and I try to whisper at them to go the other way, but they don't listen and do it anyway. And I'm just there like ugh, please just listen to me, I swear I'm trying to help you.

And I'm stalling and stalling trying to give them time to fix it or say something and not have to leak this info, because clearly they don't want this to be public and it's going to be mega-viral the moment I say something.

Anyway, the dream sort of faded out there but for whatever fucking reason this is what my subconscious generated.

#i have strange dreams a lot but this is the only one ive had about dnp #like why was i having anxiety dreams on their behalf #dan and phil #dnp #phan

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azelmaandeponine · 2 days ago

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I "love" how people like to think that Filbrick would take Stan back home without millions and that he was just bluffing when he said that. Look at the "argument" of someone who defends this abuser and uses this premise:

"Filbrick was confident that Stan would spend the night thinking over what he'd done, crawl back a few hours later or the the next morning, apologize and then he and Stanford would fix things. Because he just wanted to scare Stan a bit, since he thought that his son needed a scare to make him realize he couldn’t always be clinging to his brother like that and he can't just skirt by on charisma alone. So kicking him out was for his own good, since he's had it easy for too long and life isn't fair. Only when Filbrick opened the door in the morning, Stanley wasn't there. Stan had always been stubborn, just as stubborn as Filbrick. Days became weeks, weeks became months. Filbrick had figured Stan must be doing fine, otherwise you would have come home. Surely Stan knew he could come home if things were truly dire. Then Filbrick saw those commercials and assumed that Stan was doing fine and that he was just being stubborn. Thinking that when Stan realizes just how tough it is out there, he'll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness, and disposed do something either humiliating or backbreaking to atone for his mistake."

This person must have definitely skipped the part where Filbrick says to the principal that "very frankly" is the only way that he speaks.

Yeah, like. Filbrick doesn't beat around the bush. He isn't gonna secretly test Stan or anything like that. He was dead serious about not letting Stan come back, and I think that was fairly obvious.

Like why would anyone try to excuse Filbrick here? Or think he wasn't serious about kicking Stan out?

This fandom has a serious problem with trying to excuse abusers and downplay their abuse, tbh.

#anon #answers #abuse tw #victim blaming tw #abuse apologism #this is a filbrick pines hate blog #stan pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls #atots

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theshadowsingersraven · 24 hours ago

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Just some POV to support OP: I don't think anyone here would doubt that I love Azriel. And I absolutely did this in my own writing.

Loving a character doesn't just mean blindly wanting surface good things for them. It can also mean wanting them to face the music for their actions and becoming better for it. This is how I handled Azriel rightfully feeling shame for how he treated Lucien:

Azriel deserved that. He knew he deserved that to the point where he felt an apology creeping up his throat. But his pride snatched hold of it before the traitorous words could leave his lips.

Lucien sighed. “Perhaps one day you can view me as Solara does—a friend. Not just a cage thrust upon Elain, demanding her compliance. I've never thought badly of you until now, Azriel.”

Friend.

Azriel was purposely hurting Solara’s friend, purposely choosing each word as if it were a torture instrument. As if he were no better than the witch she'd sacrificed so much to kill. And a part of him knew that, deep down even then. How disgusted would she be when she learned of the other aspects of his work? For how Azriel was speaking to her friend? Solara would be furious, so disappointed, and—

“I…” he found himself fumbling for words he had no desire to say, but everything in him screamed that he needed to say something. Needed to remedy the harm he caused, even if it was only for the spiteful words he'd just spewed. “I couldn't do what you do. If I were in your position…it would kill me. I do not know how you are not miserable.”

“I never said I wasn't. It doesn't particularly feel good to see your mate falling for a male who gets to be around her. Who she can actually tolerate. Not that you have to worry about that with your mate. You had the privilege of knowing her, being her friend first. You knew what her laugh sounded like and how she liked her coffee before you tasted her fear and panic. I was not so lucky.”

Azriel averted his gaze, keeping his mask of indifference in place despite the tempest of emotions whirling in his chest. The shadows hung off of him instead of curling up like normal. They were probably as exhausted from this day as he was.

As their gazes finally met again, Azriel didn't say anything—couldn't, really. It's not as though Lucien was wrong.

After a pause, the russet-haired male sighed. “I'm not going to lie to her for you, Azriel. That's all I'm saying.”

“Understood,” Azriel murmured, his nostrils flaring slightly, wings tucking in tighter.

Lucien turned on his heel and made his way toward the front door. Azriel watched him close his hand around the ornately carved knob, and then he found himself taking a slight step forward. Found himself saying despite his pride's protests, “I judged you sooner than what was wise. You…You are an honorable male. More honorable than me, I think. By a large margin.”

It wasn't an apology. The Mother knew he was too prideful to apologize, but this was something, at least. And though he doubted this was what his shadows had in mind when they told him about singing the truth, they seemed to perk up a little. Azriel also knew that it was a rather lackluster comment despite the fact that it was enough to give Lucien pause. He heard the slightest sigh come from Lucien, and he looked over his shoulder back at him.

As he pulled the door open, the emissary said, “Well, I believe that is perhaps the one thing we agree on. Farewell, Azriel.”

Azriel’s hands flexed at his side. He deserved that, too, really. Deserved every word from Lucien's mouth, and deserved worse, probably. But he had to keep trying—had to do better. Be better. Even if it was just so he could stand next to his mate and not feel like he was so undeserving of her and the fire she embodied. The fire that seemed to warm and melt every frigid layer of ice he put around himself. And if Azriel wanted any of this to go well, he needed to at least feel like the male Solara would finally find underneath all those protective, icy walls was more than his scars, his anger, and his bitter jealousy. Azriel wanted the male underneath it all to be worthy, no matter what it took.

I really want Azriel to know and feel for himself the depth of the mating bond, so that he feels shame, true shame, for what he did to Lucien.

#pro azriel #pro lucien #azriel acotar #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra

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mercurysmicrowave · 3 days ago

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A Shoulder to Cry On

Paring: Nanami Kento x reader

Wc: 1.1k

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for the Shibuya Arc

Two months had passed since the massacre at Shibuya. You were obviously shaken up by the incident, but you found solice in your boyfriend Nanami Kento. Late nights were filled with texts of him reassuring you that he was okay and that he has once and for all quit being a sorcerer.

At first the texts were comforting, but you missed him. He never went out of his way to check on you. Like really check on you. He used to go to your house with flowers and cook for you after a bad day, but now when you really need him. Nothing. He hadn't even called.

You debated over and over to go to his house. Make the first move, show him how you could be the shoulder to cry on. But Kento wasn't one for surprise visits, and anytime you offered to come by, he would turn you down. He made the excuse repeatedly that he had work to catch up on, but when you called his office, they said he was using his vacation days.

A heavy feeling gathered in your chest and made it hard to think. You tried calling Satoru, maybe he had been in touch with Kento. Nothing. You called Yuuji. All you got was a rushed response with no clear answer. Who else did you know? Shoko maybe?

"Hello?" Her voice seemed distant. "Is everything alright?" It was a reasonable ask for the first thing to say. You and Shoko were never close. As much as it hurts to admit, you only ever called when you needed something.

"No, actually," You laugh dryly. "It's about Kento. I...He's...is there anything you can tell me?" On the other side of the phone, Shoko sighs.

She takes a drag of her cigarette before answering. "The mission was hard for everyone. He's no exception." You're silence encouraged her to continue talking.

"What can I say? He got injured. It comes with the job. At least he survived, yeah? Best outcome anyone could hope for"

"Yeah, okay," You try to smile. At least you had some kind of answer. "Thanks." You hang up. You chew on your thumbnail before going to text Kento. You asked if you could come over, and of course, he made up an excuse about needing to finish a report. Now you were angry. You wanted to be a good partner, give him space, but at the same time, you felt the strong compulsion to be by his side. You could obviously tell that he needed comfort, something that could only be properly given in person.

The next morning you are determined to see Kento. You drive to his house. You notice his car in the driveway and frown. Sure he could be working from home, but that has never been a reason for you to not come over before. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Silence. You ring again. And a third and a forth. Before you can ring a fifth time you hear cursing and the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The door swings open. For the first time in months, Kento stand before you. Though, you can barely see his face, or any of him for that matter. Despite the warm weather, he has on a grey hoodie pulled over his head, black gloves and long sweatpants.

"(Y/N)?" His voice is raspy, as if on the verge of going away.

You smile "Hi." You attempt to step inside, but he blocks you with his arm.

He furrows his brows "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you," You say confused. Did that really need an explanation?

"I told you I was fine"

"Obviously, you're not," You voice comes out rougher than you intended. "I just...Can I come inside?" Kentk stares. He stays silent for a while longer before wordlessly moving out of the way. You offer a small 'thanks' before stepping inside. The interior was nice, of anything it was cleaner than the last time you were here. Has he been stress cleaning? Kento keeps his distance. He seems on edge, like he can't wait for you to get bored and leave.

You clear your throat. "I was talking to Shoko the other day." You weren't really saying this to him but rather thinking out loud. "You got hurt. You didn't tell me you got hurt." Kento rubs his arm almost instinctively. You notice.

"I always get hurt," Kento replied.

"Yes, but you always tell me." You retort. "I know I'm not a sorcerer but you never keep me out of the loop. What changed? Do you...not want to be with me anymore?"

"What?" Kento finally raised his head to look at you.

You clench you jaw. "Has it been too hard to be with me?" Your voice cracks and you feel like crying. "I thought I was understanding of your other duties. I never fussed over missions or berated you with a million questions about being a sorcerer. So why? Why push me away now?" Kento was quick to walk up to you and wipe your tears with his gloved hand.

"That's not it at all," His voice is quiet, gentle.

"Look Kento, or maybe I should call you Nanami," You move his hand away from your face and head to the door. "I'm just happy I could see you one last time." You turn to offer him a half smile, but instead you face falls in shock. Your hands come up to cover your mouth as you gasp. Kento pulled down his hood. Half of his face was burned and covered in scars. He had an eyepatch over his left eye.

He looks down. "Shoko did what she could, but, well..." He slowly drifts off. "I've always tried to make my job as a sorcerer, better than it was. I thought that if you saw me like this, I'd scare you off. And as selfish as it was, I couldn't be without you." He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and stop himself from crying.

You don't say anything. Kento's heart pounds in his chest and rings in his ear. His gaze focused on the floor. Did you leave? You probably did. He didn't-couldn't- blame you. This is was literally the ugly side of being a sorcerer. This is why Kento didn't want a love life. This is why-

You arms come up to wrap Kento in a tight embrace. Your hand moves to let Kento's head rest on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist and for the first time since Shibuya. The first time since seeing Gojo taken away. The first time since finding out Haibara died, he cried. He cried until his voice was hoarse, but this time he had someone there for him. This time he had a shoulder to cry on.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami kento x reader angst #I actually started tearing up writing this

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batboyblog · 3 days ago

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I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your reporting on Biden. When I first voted for him, I was mostly voting against Trump, but over time he really won me over by delivering so much more than I could have imagined. I just read your post thanking him and it's making me tear up. He was the best, most progressive president we've had and I'm so heartbroken to see him go. Even if we win again one day and manage to get another president who delivers this much, I still think I'll always be a Biden Democrat at heart. He came from humble beginnings and dedicated his entire life to this country--a country who needed him but didn't want him or appreciate him. He did what he could for people whose identities he doesn't share, and he did it simply because he wanted to and it was the right thing to do. He did it even though they hated him. It makes me think of all the normal every day people who do their best to make the world better in whatever way they can and who get no recognition for it. Your posts would give me hope and they didn't mean "very little" to me. Thank you for doing your part. I'm wishing you strength and hope. 🤎

My grandfather and I talked politics all the time, he'd catch my eye across the room and wave me over and he and I would talk. I'm really glad he's not around to see this because he'd hate it, but I'd give just about anything to talk to him about it.

The last time I saw him in person and we talked shortly before he died in late 2019 he told me "It has to be Biden, he's the only one" and I didn't believe him, I didn't see it. I thought Harris, or maybe Gillibrand. The old man always saw more clearly than I did.

I was a lot like you, not being Trump was good enough, I didn't have high expectations, but to be clear not being Trump was enough and should have ALWAYS been more than enough.

Particularly after January 6th being the guy who saved us from Fascism, a coup, and oh yeah being a basically good person after the worst living American was President were all amazing! great!

But like you said he didn't stop at just putting everything back, he moved. Here was this old white guy, but really believed in diversity, in an idea of America I could be proud of, of not just paying lip service to diversity but really lifting up voices that don't get heard. A guy who reached the top but wasn't jealous and lifted up voices, Harris, Buttigieg, Deb Haaland, etc and let them be stars in their own right.

and the agenda, I'd basically given up that we'd really fight climate change, and yeah it was the 11th hour but he came in fighting like it was the 11th hour, like we really were gonna go to the moon. And high speed rail? and and and etc

There's a line in the Speech Hillary Clinton gave when she had to end her 2008 campaign for President, "And, when you stumble, keep faith. And, when you're knocked down, get right back up and never listen to anyone who says you can't or shouldn't go on." And I think that sums up Joe Biden.

A working class boy from the wrong side of the tracks in Scranton Pennsylvania with a stutter was never ever supposed to run for office. A kid from a state school who was too young to even be sworn into the Senate on Election Day was never supposed to win a Senate seat on his first try. And no one could have blamed him if after his wife and youngest child died leaving him a single dad of two little boy's in a hospital he'd given up on politics and stepped away. But he didn't he was sworn in in the hospital with his kids. He took the train every day to be back home with them at night.

Time and time again life tried to knock Joe down, but it never ever knocked him out.

I think the lesson is to really LOOK! at our leaders, really see them. There's so much cynicism that all politicians are rotten, that you shouldn't "idealize" them or whatever. I'm not saying to, but I'm saying see them for who they really are, who's a basically decent person working hard to make people's lives better, and understand the difference between that and something like Trump.

And its not up to them to save us, or... its that old joke? about the flood and the man who thinks God will save him? we got to pitch in to help save ourselves, great leaders are great but if a whole propaganda system tells everyone they suck they're not gonna be able to do much, we got to do the counter messaging, we got to talk to the real people in our lives and fight back and on-line and we have to go help us be cringe and give a shit and be earnest

#Joe Biden #politics #political #US politics #american politics #ask #answer

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