#mia wrote this

[mia-can-yap-too]

No.1 Fan

Who?:- Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Author! Reader

Warnings:- fluff, no curse!au, brief mentions of Yuji and Nobara, move aside Gege I made Satosugo canon.

♫:- poster boy — Lyn Lapid

Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things. Son, brother, friend, acquaintance, student. All these are no surprise, after all, everyone has these traits. But what one would not expect him to be, was a fan. 

Megumi was fifteen when he first heard of you. Back then, newspaper articles were filled with your face, your name, you. A literary prodigy. A girl who, at the ripe age of fifteen, won three awards for her debut book. Every which way he turned, there was always mention of you. Tired of all what he deemed was 'meaningless glazing', he bit the bullet and read your book. 

He was entranced, hanging onto every word. Simultaneously wanting to find out the outcome and dreading for it to end. He developed emotional connections with your characters, sympathized with their circumstances and teared up from their losses. He had never felt like this before. 

When he ultimately finished the book, he was left staring into the void. The epilogue was left to fate, no definite promises. He wanted to know more. He wanted more of your writing. He wanted to feel the way he did once more, even though no other book he read after provoked the same feelings, the same anticipation, sympathy and sorrow again. He wanted more. 

And so Megumi started waiting hopefully for the release of your next book. And the next one. And the one after that as well. Oh, and the rest too. He would be the first to get a hold of the latest book. Bought all the limited editions. Signed up to all your websites. Read any and every article which had even the tiniest mention of you. Defended your name on the Internet when anyone dared to insult you. Megumi became your biggest fan. 

So, imagine the excitement he felt when he found out you were coming to Tokyo to promote your latest book, were going to do a book signing event at his local bookstore. He immediately started planning his outfit, which books he would bring to be signed (he ended up bringing up all of them), which time he would arrive in order to be one of the first people you would meet (he did not end up being one of the first). 

And so, now Megumi waits in the never-ending line at your signing. You were right there. The same girl he admired so much. The author of the books he devoted so much time and money to. And you were so kind and polite too. Smiling at every single person, making small talk before adding a perfect autograph with a personalized message on the index page. 

A cough from behind him pushes him out of his thoughts. "Hey dude, get moving already," says an annoyed voice. He didn't even realize that it was his turn already. You send a polite smile his way, waiting for him to come up to you. Megumi's face flushes in embarrassment. Unconsciously, he fixes up his hair and clothes before walking towards you. 

"Hello! How are you?" You say, your voice so sweet, he could listen to it all day.  

"Uh, hi. I'm well," he should probably ask you too. "....and you?"

"I'm doing great, thank you for asking! What's your name?" 

"Megumi. Fushiguro. Yes, Megumi Fushiguro. And you?" He realizes his mistake too late. 

His eyes widen in panic but you brush it off with a laugh. "I'm Y/n L/n, not sure if you've heard it before," you joke. 

"Sorry...I uh didn't mean to. Of course, I know who you are, I came to your event after all." Great, now he's rambling. You probably think he's the most awkward guy you've ever met. 

"It's okay, don't worry about it. So what book have you brought for me to sign today?"

He pulls out all of them, even the limited editions. This may be the only time he ever sees you, no way was he gonna miss the opportunity. 

Your eyes widen slightly. "A-All of them? Oh wow, you must really like my books. Is that the limited edition of 'The Last Dragon'? I saw so many people say it was almost impossible to get!" 

"Uh...yes?" His face is faintly flushed from your praise. 

Your smile brightens. You begin signing the books, "well, Megumi, thank you for supporting me so much! I'm very grateful! I really hope we meet again sometime soon!" 

Huh? What do you mean by that? Don't you live in USA? 

You return the books, and your hands brush with his. You send one last bright smile his way, one that makes his heart stutter. How had he never realized how beautiful you were before? 

"Goodbye, Megumi Fushiguro!"

"Goodbye, Y/n L/n," he says so quietly that you almost didn't catch it. 

He find his personalized note in the limited edition of 'The Last Dragon'. He dreams of it when he sleeps. 

'Your passion and enthusiasm reminds me of why I write. Thank endlessly for your support. My world wouldn't be the same without readers like you, Megumi.

~ Y/n ;D' 

-- 

He hands the customer their iced americano. Phew, rush hour has just ended. It was quite a busy day this morning, but now his shift should go as usual, nice and quiet. It is these times when he writes his essays and completes his assignments, the environment of the cafe fueling his productivity. 

He is wiping the counters when the bell chimes. He turns around, ready to great the customer with his usual monotone greeting, though he stops in his tracks when he sees you at the door.  To be honest, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since the signing event. So much that his friends, Yuji and Nobara, started teasing him for having a crush.

And there you are, in all your glory, looking around the cafe, headphones around your neck and tote bag on your shoulder. Your eyes do a double take when they find his. 

"Hey! I know you!" 

"You....do?" He had expected you to forget all about him.

"Yeah, your'e Megumi Fushiguro, right? I hope I'm right, else this is really really embarrassing." 

He rubs at his nape as he looks away, eye contact being almost too much for him. 

"Yes, that's me."

You walk up to the counter with a skip in your step. "I hope you still remember me," you tease. 

"I... do remember. What would you like to order?" For some unknown reason, he really wants to know how you enjoy your coffee. Latte, espresso, americano, or plain black? Or would you just get tea instead? Would you like a pastry with it, or would you get a sandwich instead? What does it matter to him anyways? 

Your eyes skim the menu, blissfully unaware of his myriad of thoughts. It doesn't take long for your e/c eyes to find his. "I'll get a mocha frappé, please. Oh, and a chocolate croissant with that too." 

It takes him a moment to ask. "To go?" 

"No, I'll be staying, it seems like a nice place, calm and quiet," you remark. 

He nods. Should he say something back? If so, what? Or should he just keep quiet? You decide for him, sitting at a table nearest to the counter. You take out a laptop, one decorated with multiple stickers. It pulls a ghost of a smile on Megumi's lips. It seemed a lot like you to do that. 

He prepares your order, keeping one eye on you as you type away on your laptop. Are you writing your next book? If so, would he be able to get a peak when he delivers your order? Or are you just answering emails? He still needs to do his assignments, would he even be able to concentrate with you here? 

You smile at him when he sets your frappé and croissant on your table. Why is it so hot in here? Should he tell his boss to get the air conditioner fixed? 

He doesn't have the courage to smile back, not that that would be his usual reaction to something like this. He returns to counter and pulls out his own laptop. He would look like a creep, standing there, staring at you, doing nothing. So this was the best possible option, even if his mind kept drifting to the absolute wonder six feet away from him. 

Two hours, three to-go customers and a few assignments later, you stretch your arms in your chair. Of course, he notices, even though he keeps his eyes locked on his screen. 

You tilt your head at him. "I assume you're doing your assignments?" 

Your unexpected question gives him an excuse to look at you. "Huh? Yeah." 

You smile. "What major are you?"

"Creative Writing," he replies. 

"Need any help? I'm good at brainstorming, you know?" 

"You want to help? Don't you have your own work to do?"

"It's gotten a bit boring, right now. Anyways, anything for my biggest fan," you say with a sly smirk on your lips. He hopes you don't realize how much you fluster him. 

You take his silence as a yes. Hopping over to the counter, you gesture for him to turn the laptop towards you. You read the prompt and hold your chin as you think. 

When you finally do get an idea, you share it with Megumi, conversing with him the best possible ways to go about it, sharing various tips and tricks. And Megumi swears he has never felt happier. 

-- 

This becomes a regular occurrence between you and Megumi. You place the same order everyday (he prepares it before you come), write a couple of words for your next book, and then proceed to help Megumi (who has started to sit next to you instead of leaning on the counter all the time). 

He learns that you moved to Japan, permanently. You also tell him the idea for your next book. It makes him feel special, knowing he is your only fan who knows such confidential information. Months pass with the same routine, your bond strengthening everyday. He sees you as a friend now, too. He doesn't learn you considered him one from the start. 

A phone call disrupts the calm between you two, one winter day. The heater works overtime to keep you both warm, though he wouldn't mind lending you his jacket, if you asked so. 

He picks up the phone call. "Hello?" 

"Heya, Megumi! How's my favorite child doing?" asks an obnoxiously loud voice. It wouldn't be Gojo if he didn't.  

"What is it, Gojo?" 

A dramatic gasp is heard. "How mean, I don't remember raising you like this. Must've been Suguru." 

"Get to the point."

"Okay, okay, chill. Me and Suguru want you to come spend Christmas dinner with us! It has been quite lonely since Tsumiki moved to Australia. You'll come, right? You wouldn't want to make your dads sad, right?"

Megumi rubs his forehead. "Fine, I'll come."

"Oh and you'll bring a girl too, right? Or guy, you know we don't judge."

"Uh..."

"If not, there's always the neighbor's girl, I've seen her eyeing you. Suguru wants to set you two up!"

"No!" You turn to look at him with concern. He lowers his voice, "No, I have someone..." 

Gojo's surprise can be felt through the phone. "Really?! OH MY GOD, my boy's finally grown up! Can you tell I'm tearing up right now? Well, I can't wait to meet the lucky person! Make sure to bring them over! I have to go now, adult responsibilities and all. See you on Christmas!"

Megumi groans as the call ends. What has he gotten himself into? How will he find someone now? 

"You good, Megumi?" You ask, worry etched on your face. 

"Yes, it's just... I have a problem."

You are too kind. You rush to help. "What is it? Is there anyway I can help?"

"I have to go to a Christmas dinner with my family, but I lied about having someone to bring," he answers. What did he even expect you to do? Turn back time? 

"I could go with you." 

Okay, he did not think of that. "What? Are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah. I don't have any plans on Christmas, anyways. Besides, it'll be just like in the books!" 

"My guardians, they might be a bit much..."

"Don't worry," you say confidently, "I'll wow them with my undeniable charisma!"

A small smile appears on his face, one almost unnoticeable if you hadn't learn't the meaning behind every small twitch of his face. He doesn't need to know that, though. 

And so, the two great minds formulate a plan that even the best strategists would be jealous of. 

--

You stand next to Megumi, infront of his front door, holding hands. This was all planned out perfectly. You even got to go to his dorm a couple weeks ago, where he gave you powerpoint presentations on both of his dads, even a little on his sister as well ("Why are your dads kindaaa..." "Please, don't.") . You had taken notes. The two men didn't know what was waiting for them. 

A man with long black hair tied into a bun opens the door. You know this man as Geto. He lets you both in.

His purple eyes land on your intertwined hands. A soft smile graces his lips. "So Satoru really was telling the truth then."

The mentioned man springs out of seemingly nowhere and engulfs Megumi in a hug. "Megumi, my boy!" 

Gojo's eyes drift over to you, his own eyes widening a bit. "You must be Megumi's special person." 

You nod, as a blush creeps up your face. "Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/n." 

Gojo opens his mouth to perhaps bombard you with questions, but is stopped by Geto. "At least let them eat first." 

--

Gojo stares at you suspiciously as you smile politely at him. Megumi and Geto sit anxiously next to their respective partners. Blue eyes narrow at you. 

"His favorite color?"

"Black," you respond calmly. 

"Blood type?" 

"B."

"How does he like his chicken?"

You take a strategic bite of your food, this buys you more time to answer. 

"Breast meat in chicken Nanban and thigh meat in Oyakodon." 

Gojo gasps dramatically. Megumi says he does that a lot. 

"So you really are his girlfriend!"

You polite smile does not falter. But both your hearts beat faster at the thought. "I would hope so." 

Megumi finally intercepts. "No more questions, Gojo. This isn't an interrogation."

Geto finally gets a chance to speak up. "So how did you two meet up?", he asks, ignoring Megumi's glare. 

You smile fondly at the memory, but that is not the story you both decided to go with. "I frequent the cafe he works at. One thing led to another and well," you shrug humorously. 

Gojo opens his big mouth again. "I'm so happy Megumi finally found someone! He has always been so aloof and stoic, I can't believe he finally found someone he actually likes! You know, as a kid, he used to wet his bed every night," he smiled fondly, wiping a fake tear. 

Megumi glares at him. "I did not."

"You so did. I have pictures, I'll show her some later!"

"I will hit you."

--

The rest of the dinner goes by smoothly. Gojo and Geto give personal recounts of how they met, and then show you pictures of Megumi and his sister as children. Megumi can't stop his heart from racing. You fit in perfectly. Wouldn't it be wonderful if this was real? If you were actually his? 

It just so happens that a snowstorm blocks you all in. Going back home wouldn't be possible in this weather, and so you both must stay the night. Geto slyly suggests that you both share Megumi's room, as Tsumiki wouldn't like giving her room up to stranger while she was gone. 

This is why you and Megumi both stand in front of his bed, one that would not fit two 20 year olds if they wanted some distance. Sleeping on the floor is not an option, for it is too cold. You both are readers and are quite familiar with the one bed trope, which explains the furious blushes on your faces. 

You turn to him, wearing his clothes that he lent as pajamas. "So..."

He looks back at you. "Yeah..."

"Well..."

"Mhm..."

"Okay..."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have put you in such a situation."

"It's uh...cool." 

"Should we..."

"Sure..."

Awkwardly, you both climb into his bed, lying on your sides facing each other. It makes you smile. "Hi."

He gives back a small smile. "Hello."

"You come here often?", you joke.

This emits a small chuckle from him. But it doesn't take long for guilt to flood his eyes. "Truly, though, I'm sorry for dragging you into this--"

"I came of my own free will, remember."

"--you must be quite uncomfortable--"

"Nah, you're actually really warm, might just snuggle up."

"--I...don't know what to say when you say stuff like that?"

"Oh really?", you raise a brow, "Like what? That I wanna cuddle you? Let a girl dream, Fushiguro."

"Like stuff you don't mean."

"I do mean it, though. I think you're very nice, and kind, and cool, and handsome, and pretty at the same time. I like how passionate you can be, even though you may not express your feelings much. It doesn't matter to me if you don't talk much, because I'll talk enough for the both of us. I like you, Megumi Fushiguro. Do you like me?" 

"I...," Megumi's eyes are wide, his heart beating too fast to be normal. "I do, of course. Thank you..."

"For what?", you smile.

He doesn't answer. He only stares at you in awe. This wasn't just the person whom he had admired for years. This was the girl who sat next to him everyday, who helped him with his assignments, even though he never told you he didn't need it, the girl who learned every detail about him in order to convince his family that they're dating. This was the girl he loved. 

His eyes drift to your lips. "Can I...?"

With your nod, he leans down to your face, his hands cupping your cheeks. His breath hits your lips, eyes fluttering shut. And when he kisses you, you both swear it is the happiest you have been. 

[wheatormeat]

If there's anything I've felt about ace attorney since playing through the original trilogy, it's how cheated I've felt about the fandom interpretation of it. Y'all were so caught up with your gay boys and your Miles Edgeworths I didn't realize how much of this game was about WOMEN. THE CORE OF ACE ATTORNEY IS IN ITS FEMALE CHARACTERS. From Mia jumpstarting Phoenix and guiding him throughout the whole trilogy even after her death, her presence being the primary connecter of Phoenix and Maya, Maya and Godot, heck even Dahlia and Iris and the whole lot of them. From Franziska's earnest faith and consolation of Miles Edgeworth, even begrudgingly, pulling him out the trauma of his childhood with the face to face confrontation of a bullet wound in the same spot as the man who killed his father. Lana and Ema dragging Phoenix back into the thing he does best. Lana and Ema who's tragic story lies in a pair of sisters ruined by the heinous law system and their unconditional love for each other. Dahlia and Iris with a different version of sisterly tragedy, struggling through generational trauma in separate settings and support systems. The matter of the Fey tradition looming over the entire narrative and all the legal and social terror that comes with it. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE ACE ATTORNEY WOMEN.

[henswilsons]

all you're giving me is friction

buck/eddie | 7k+ | ao3

“Now that is a handsome man.” The first thing Hen notices about New Recruit Eddie Diaz is that he is in possession of a remarkable set of abdominal muscles. The next thing she notices is the wedding ring. And Buck is staring at him like a piece of meat. “Oh, nuh-uh,” she says immediately. “Don’t even think about it, Buckley.”

ao3!

[miabbh]

Princess Skin 💈

husband!Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: that your husband is a starved man when the matter is you, nothing new; sometimes, though, you need to remind him that you have a princess skin and it's sensitive & he needs to shave. it's okay to dely his morning banquet, you try to tell him; it actually is, he conforms, you're there to help.

Genre: playfull banter, slice of life, quite ⚠⚠ explicit smut ⚠⚠ (oral sex–fem!receiving) | ~2,5k words

A low, hoarse sigh escapes Baekhyun's lips, resonating from deep within his chest, filling the quiet intimacy of the bathroom. The sound lingers, blending into the golden warmth of the wall lights as you gently tilt his head to the side. 

He obeys without hesitation, his eyes fluttering shut, his hands resting firmly on your thighs. His grip is steady, grounding, hungry, fingers curling slightly over the hem of your oversized T-shirt—the one he used to wear but now lives permanently on your side of the wardrobe and makes a familiar sense of pride burn on his chest.

With careful precision, you trace the line of his jaw with the razor, your movement slow and deliberate as the white layer disappears to give way to his beautiful skin tone. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and the faint scratch of stubble yields easily to the blade in a dry sound.

You focus, the rhythm of the task drawing you in so you don't cut him. Or at least, you try. Maybe, you do focus—on the closeness of his body, his breath soft against your wrist, the way the tips of his fingers play with your skin, that threatens to distract you.

You take the blade to the basin full of water on your left, leaving the foam and the so short dark hairs floating in it. You can feel his eyes on you, following each movement with his gaze as your breasts gently sway beneath the fabric. The height difference is not significant, even with you sitting on the counter, but your gaze is slightly above his as you side eye him, arched eyebrow. 

Those dark brown chocolate eyes melt slowly as a smirk grows on his lips, the fire beneath them burning slow, low and that oh so well pretended good behavior of his...

It had all started that morning, not long before this moment, when you were stirred awake by the faint, bristling sensation of his stubble against your neck. The warmth of him pressed against your back was the first thing you registered—the solid weight of his chest rising and falling in the slightly accelerated rhythm you've learned to know too well the meaning. Half-asleep, you instinctively raised a hand to his face, your fingers brushing over the rough texture of his unshaven jaw hidden in the tangle of your hair.

A warm kiss pressed against your neck, right where the steady pulse of blood thrummed beneath your skin. His lips lingered, soft yet deliberate, coaxing your breath to hitch as the warmth of his mouth sent a gentle shiver cascading down your spine.

The sheets rustled as he shifted beside you before the soft moan leave your lips fully, the faint weight of them pulling away leaving you more exposed to the cool morning air.

You stirred, your body half-claimed by sleep, yet acutely aware of him. His hand slid along your thigh, the touch slow and unhurried, a silent request you couldn't deny. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he repositioned himself between your thighs, his movements purposeful but tender. Fingers brushed against the fabric of your shirt, the hem riding higher with every inch he claimed until his right hand cupped your breast, squeezing it with the whole palm.

Your back arched against the touch as you looked for a more comfortable position, already feeling a pleasant tingling in your stomach, your breathing quickening in anticipation, too drowned to him, to his touch, to all the things you knew he was caplable of doing and still surprised you every single time.

Your mind, intoxicated by expectation and not fully awakened sleep, took a while to register the muffled words coming from under the sheets. Before you could think to ask, the pressure from your panties on your hip bone as he pulled them to the side made you close your eyes again.

The tips of his fingers moved ever so slightly over your already wet clit, a gasp getting stuck in your throat. You could already imagine it—his face focused, his eyes wide and bright as he licked his soft pink lips, preparing to devour a feast. And oh my- you loved seeing him so hopelessly starved of you first thing in the morning.

You fought the instinct to close your legs when his index and middle finger slid between yours wet folds, caught by his teasing. Although, the soft satisfied sound that left your lips quickly turned into one of frustration, his fingers no longer touching you, the stubborn elastic of your panties covering your clit again.

The soft light from the room illuminated his face as you lifted the sheets, peeking at him. A wave of heat burned your cheeks as you caught him with both fingers on his mouth, lingering just against the tip of his tongue as he looked up at you.

Any complaint has left your being. You left him be, laying back down, his image stuck in the back of your mind.

But then you felt it—the rough scrape of his stubble, this time against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The contrast was exquisite, a deliberate tease that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Baby…" you murmured, blindly grabbing his hair as a shiver runned down your spine on a not-so-satisfying feeling.

He didn't seem to listen, his touch unrelenting yet gentle, his hands steady as they coaxed your legs further apart as his lips met your warmth, sucking it gently. A soft, low hum came from him, a sound that vibrated against your skin, reverberating through you.

You held back a melodic ah as the kisses and hickeys spread your leaking wetness, his teeth too teasing you, parted only enough to let the warm breaths of air chill you a little more.

You knew he had lost the patience to wait when both hands grabbed you, one by your thigh and the other by the curve of your butt, holding your panties with the thumb right before his tongue sinfuly make its way from your entrance up to the clit.

The sensation had you shivering, the brown strands intertwined tightly around your fingers. But then, a burning sensation took over.

"Baek..." a slight frown wrinkle your forehead as you spoke. "You're scratching me."

He paused for a moment, just long enough to let the anticipation build, his warm breath fanning over your exposed skin. 

"You’re really making me stop to go shave?" he murmured from beneath the sheets, the rough edge of his stubble grazing your inner thigh again as be leaned on the elbows.

You tilted your head back against the pillow, your voice barely steady as you tried to pull your leg away.

"You already know my opinion on that."

You could feel him smirking against your skin, pressing another lingering kiss just above your knee. 

"If I even grow a beard someday, will you keep me away from you sweet pussy for at least three weeks 'til it's longer enough not to sting?" he teased, his hands sliding further up your leg, his touch igniting sparks which were all concentrated between your legs.

You tried to form a witty reply, the warmth of his breath and the deliberate hoarse words against your bare skin making it impossible to think clearly for a few seconds.

"Most likely." you managed to say, the mental image of a Baekhyun with a beard being difficult to conceive.

Baekhyun let go of your thighs, the warm sigh—more like a laugh—that left his mouth got you weak, and for a moment you almost pulled him back to you.

Reappearing from under the sheets scratching his chin, he looked at you. His lips found their way to yours, his whole body weighing you down against the mattress.

You could feel your taste on him, the growing hardness in his pyjama's pants pressing against you.

"Wanna help me?" he whispered, his voice low, thick with that sweet, convincing manipulation he wielded so well. His gaze moved down from your eyes to your lips, down to your neck—his thumb running through your clavicles. "Can't have my breakfast getting cold while waiting for me…"

And that is how you ended up here—perched on the counter, your legs parted to frame him as he stands between them. His gaze follows your every movement, dark and unwavering, as you dip the razor into the basin and wipe it clean on the towel. 

The room is quiet save for the faint sound of water droplets and the soft scrape of metal as you carefully slid the blade down the line of his throat. His pulse steady, though the faint rise and fall of his chest betrays a quiet anticipation.

His adam's apple shifts, slow and deliberate, as he swallows under your careful touch.

You pause for a moment, your thumb brushing over the smooth skin you’d left in the razor's wake. His eyes flick up to meet yours, holding you there with a look that is equal parts trust and something deeper—something raw, burning hot and leaving you nervous.

The corner of his mouth tug upward in a slow, lazy smile. 

"You like this, don’t you?" he teases, his voice soft, playful.

"You seem to be enjoying it more than me." you murmur, and his hands tighten ever so slightly on your thighs, moving further.

You roll your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrays your pretended annoyance. Carefully, you tilt his chin higher, exposing more of his neck, your fingers brushing against the sharp edge of his jaw. The moment is intoxicating, the intimacy—his surrender, your sense of control, the quiet tension crackling between you like static electricity.

You can feel the tiny, slippery puddle forming in the marble under you, your panties—left somewhere you'll probably only find out after you get back from work— no longer being a protective barrier.

"You know…." he says, his voice low and gravelly. "...we could make of this a routine; I let my beard grow a little more than usual, you get all upset and bossy because I scratch your princess skin, and you get to see my face up this close while I-" he slides his thumb over your wetness, making you pull the blade away. A smirk grows on his face. "-til her royal highness authorize the presence of my mouth between her legs again. Huh? What do you say? Good deal?"

You sigh, spreading your legs slightly more. You try to disguise it, wiping the razor clean again, but the gaze is mischief enough for you to know you got caught.

It's not like he's in a place to speak: you could literally see the entire outline of his dick against the pants, his shoulders tense in an anticipation that you know too well. He's as needy as you, but his patience begins to inhibit itself—something you grow used to for good and for bad since he returned from the military.

"Stay still. I'm not done yet." Your eyes flicked back up to his, locking onto the dark intensity there.

A single line of shaving cream remained, stretching from his chin to the base of his neck, and you couldn't help but let your lips curl into a faint, teasing smile.

"My only intention is not to get all scratched up." you add, your voice light with a hint of mischief. 

His smirk was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly confident. His falsely shy fingers slide into your folds with a mix of restraint and indulgence that, he knows, leaves you aching for more. Looking into your eyes, he slowly curls them up against your sensitive walls.

"I think we both know you don't mind a little scratch." he says, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver up your spine.

You shift on the counter, your buttock slipping on the cold marble due to that messy puddle you forgot about. Baekhyun grabs your hip with the free hand, steadying you in place.

"Eager, baby?" he teases.

You narrow your eyes at him, looking down at his left hand under your shirt. With a silently warning—to which he responds with a firmer grip the stillness of his fingers and hiding the lower lip, stretching the chin skin—you take the razor's next glide, slow and steady along the smooth curve of it.

"Keep talking and I might 'accidentally' nick you." you warn him, though the way your thumb lightly brushes him betrays the care you are taking, trying not to squeeze his fingers, sinking them deeper.

His Adam's apple bobbed again as he swallowed, the movement deliberate.

"I'm not worried." he replies as the blade leaves his skin as you make him tilt the head back again to light, checking your work. His tone a mix of trust and something more playful. "You'd never risk ruining your masterpiece."

You snort softly, dipping the razor back into the water and wiping it clean on the towel. 

"Such confidence in me." you mutter, shaking your head, trying to deny the warmth curling low in your stomach at the way his gaze hadn't left you for a second. Only the grip of his on you is keeping you from moving by now.

He leans in slightly, just enough for the edge of his stubble to graze your wrist as you adjust his chin again. 

"Confidence, or just faith in you?" his voice a low rumble seems to vibrate through the small space between you. He digs his fingers into you, his thumb finding the pressure point just above your clit and moving in small circles. "You're my beloved wife, aren't you? So committed to keeping me in line... or at least keeping me smooth."

You pause, the razor held just above his skin, your breath catching as you close your eyes. For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick and warm.

"Baek..." His nickname falls from your lips in a barely audible whisper, the sound trembling in the quiet space. Your eyes flicker upward, struggling to meet his intense gaze as you steel yourself. "Lemme finish this and I'm all yours."

Baekhyun smirks, the curve of his lips both wicked and knowing. He shifts slightly, the smallest movement sending his thumb grazing over your clit—just enough to steal your breath and make you falter. Then, just as quickly, he pulls away, leaving a warmth that lingers long after his touch is gone.

"Go ahead." he murmurs, his tone laced with amusement.

And then, with deliberate care, you resume your work, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly.

"Not an easy job, to keep you smooth." you put down the blade, holding up the towel to clean his skin of any remaining cream and opening the moisturizing cream bottle. You apply a gentle layer of it on his skin, proud of your job, but it's quickly forgotten. "And it's probably over now…"

He grins.

"Of course it is." he leans against you again, his lips moving against yours as your hips are grabbed against his with a fast movement, taking you away from the counter. Your legs instinctively intertwine around his hips, you hands finding home on the back of his neck and hair.

The sensation is maddening, his lips finding their way downward, planting feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck, each one slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth and want in their wake.

"Let me have my sweet treat now." he murmurs before making his way to the bed, sinking you into the pillows and crumpled sheets.

His body towers over yours, his broad shoulders pressing on your thighs open. His lips meet your stomach in a slow pace, his tongue pressing against your skin before sinking into your pussy again.

You glance down, your breath hitching as your eyes meet his—hungry, desperate, and unwavering. His starved gaze locks onto yours, the raw intensity in his expression sending a wave of heat coursing through your body.

The sounds of his tongue and lips working against you fill the room, unrestrained and unapologetic, echoing through the space with an intimacy that makes you see stars for a moment.

A moan escapes your lips, drawn out by the relentless rhythm of his movements. The sound seems to affect him too, and he answers with a low groan of his own, muffled against you as his hips press into the mattress beneath him. The sheets rustle under his weight, his movements restless, insatiable.

Your hand finds its way to his hair, tangling in the dark strands as his name falls from your lips in a breathless cry. He doesn't stop, doesn't falter; if anything, your touch spurs him further, his focus entirely on you, on this, on the unspoken connection binding you together, and on the way he seems go never get enough of you.

His hands roam over your skin, your thighs, your hips, your waist. His touch is almost frantic, fingers digging in as though he's anchoring himself, or perhaps losing control altogether.

You catch the faint glimmer of tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, his face flushed and utterly consumed by the moment. And oh... you're thankful you're also a pillow princess.

[littlefankingdom]

Tumblr: You seem to like Bruce Wayne, aka Batman.

Me: Yeah, I do.

Tumblr: Then can I recommend you these posts tagged "Anti Bruce Wayne"?

Me: Why do you hate me so much?

[beatlesmenrock]

Dylan looked disbelievingly from face to face. “But what about your song?” he asked. “The one about getting high?”

The Beatles were stupefied. “Which song?” John managed to ask.

Dylan said, “You know…” and then he sang, “and when I touch you I get high, I get high…”

John flushed with embarrassment. “Those aren’t the words,” he admitted. “The words are, ‘I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide…'”

( From: Bob Dylan turns the Beatles on to cannabis )

[aalghul]

"claiming any writer ever intended to write that jason was sexually assaulted as a child is stealing from mia" is still one of the most ridiculous takes i have ever seen. by the way

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

You know, there is something really satisfying being able to write an asexual character in a poly relationship or an asexual character be interested in by a character who is very frank with their sexuality who even loves the asexual character a bit more because of their asexuality because it opens up different avenues than they're used to or an asexual character that is accepted and loved and cherished and desired anyway

[danosrosegarden]

batshit crazy antagonist lovers after getting kidnapped for the 43rd fic in a row

[elbiotipo]

I have had to break the news to people IRL that people write fanfiction of football players or politicians. Several times.

[swearingcactus]

and he helped, and bled, and away he fled, with all the knack of a stardust speck. //little v as a cryptid story the nomads tell around the fireplace

[mia-can-yap-too]

interwoven with webs (part 1)

Who?:- Isagi Yoichi x spider-girl! reader

Warnings:- very bad descriptions of violence, kinda crack, fluff will come in part 2

♫ :- Honeypie— JAWNY

Your name is Y/N L/N, and you are Tokyo's one and only spider-girl. How did this come to be, you say? Well, you would definitely like to say that you got bit by a radioactive spider while graffitiing on subway walls or something like that. But, no, life must work in cruel ways.

You got bit while coming out of the shower. Adorned in nothing but a towel, you had screamed your lungs off when the spider inched closer. You did manage to end up killing it, with the back of a hair brush too, but by then it was too late. The spider had crawled up your leg and bit you.

So yeah, it's not exactly the best story of the birth of a hero but that doesn’t matter. Soon enough, you became accustomed to the changes in your body, albeit you were slightly weirded out when spider webs started shooting out from your wrists. And now, you fight crime and keep Tokyo's streets safe as the one and only spider-girl.

The tabloids love you, especially because you always pose for the photos,even mid-fight. The people love you. Some post you on their socials whenever theysee you and comment many wonderful things like, 'who is this DIVA', '#needthat', and the ocassional 'MOMMY'. It's such an ego boost. And yes, some do have their controversies about you but those are just haters. Some put out conspiracy theories about you, too. You heard one about how you are actually a robot made by the government so that police officers could take a break or some shit. Lmao,no way.

Regardless, with your unrivaled charismatic charm and spidey senses,you can do anything!

Except AP physics, apparently.

"Yeah, no, I don't get it," you say as you turn to look at an exasperated Chigiri. He had been trying to help tutor you, not that he was much better.

"This is it, you are failing," he runs a hand through his hair.

"Hey! It's not my fault I don't understand! It's probably because I have a horrible tutor." You expertly dodge the pencil he throws your way, yet you do let out an overly dramatic gasp at his audacity.

He rolls his eyes at your antics. "If that's the case, then why don't you get a proper tutor? You know, someone who's actually good at this?"

"I don't know anyone from that class, else I would've had one by now," you sigh. "Hey, I know a friend who takes this class too, but I do not know if he tutors as well. I'Il ask him the next time we meet and if he's willing to help then I'll pass on your number," Chigiri's tone is nonchalant, as if he weren't just solving the worst of your problems.

"Thanks but I wasn't aware you had other friends," you joke. Another pencil isthrown at you.

Suddenly, your phone lets out a 'ting'! You pull it out to see the latest notification, from a news channel.

'Bank robbery on the U-20 street. Three people taken hostage.Police are ontheir way.

Eyes widening, you quickly start to shove your stuff into your bag. Chigiri looks over with concern. "What's wrong, did something happen?"

"Yes, I gotta go, I'll tell you later, okay? See you, and sorry for ditching you, too!" You run away, leaving a baffled Chigiri in your wake. Truthfully, he should be used to this by now. You've always got urgent stuff to do. I wonder why.

You run into the nearest alley, doing a quick check to see if anybody was there. Once you confirmed it, you take your suit out and begin stripping to wear it. Why the hell is this shit so hard to wear?!

Discarding your bag in a corner and sending a quick prayer that nobody steals it, you shoot spider webs into the air and swing away. Soon enough, you reach the crime scene. No police yet, maybe that one conspiracy theory had some truth to it.

The doors are locked, so instead you must climb the walls and sneak in through a window. Quietly hiding behind a comically large vase, you assess the situation.

Papers are strewn about and tables have been overturned. Three men in skimasks each hold guns. One is shouting at the hostages, keeping them at gunpoint as he orders them to stay still. Another has a gun aimed at a banker, forcing her to take out as much money as she could. The last one shoves said money into a black duffel bag.

Thankfully, this wasn't a very popular bank, so not many people got caught up in this robbery.

Right, so if you took out the one holding the hostages via sneak attack, you couldeasily deal with the other the same way. And if things went wrong, well...you’d figure it out as you go. You're known for being heroic, not smart.

Keeping your steps light, you sneak up behind your target. The hostages, however, see you, which makes their eyes widen with hope. Unfortunately, the man notices, and turns around. While you are quick enough to disable him and stick him against the wall with your webs, his gasp alerts the other two."Uh oh," you mutter as one of them starts charging at you. He swings at you, but of course, you dodge. Landing a harsh kick to his side, you barely dodge the bullets the remaining man shoots at you. Ugh, you'll have to deal with him later. The one you had just kicked groans as he stands up. After some amateur hand-to-hand combat, he somehow manages to hold the banker at gunpoint with his arm around her throat. "Stay back! I'Il shoot her!"

"Calm down, dude, you wouldn't hurt a lady, would ya?", you chuckle nervously.

Ah, shit. You can't sense the last guy either, he might have made a run for it. You inch a little closer, arm stretched out. "I said stay back!", he barks. His goldfish brain could have never guessed your next move. Moving faster than light, you shoot web from your outstretched hand, not at him though, but rather at the vase behind him. The recoil makes the vase shoot forward, hitting the man at the back of his head. He slumps forward, unconscious.

Unfortunately, your job here isn't done yet. After sticking him to the wall with his

companion and making sure the civilians were fine, you swing out of the bank. He couldn't have gotten that far, could he? You stand on the roof of a building, eyes darting here and there, trying to locate the robber. Fortunately for you, running through a calm crowd in all black attire makes you stand out, so you find him in no time. When he notices you, he tries to get rid of you by darting into a maze of alleyways. You don't stop, as persistent as a pest. What kind of hero would you be if you let him get away?

Soon enough, he is cornered in a dead end. He knows he is fucked. He used all his bullets trying to shoot you in the bank. "No way out, might as well give yourself in," you say with a cocky grin.

He gets into a fighting stance. Battle ready and teeth bared, he is not going down without a fight.

Or that's just what he tells himself.

He doesn't even get to swing his fist before you knock him out with a punch tothe jaw.

Chuckling, you dust off your hands. Heh, you were so cool. The guy behind the dumpster thinks so too.

Wait...the guy behind the dumpster?!

Both of you let out shrill screams when you finally notice him. How long had he been there?!

He tries to say something but the only thing that comes out is a series of gasps."Y-you...l-l..."

"What the hell, dude?! Do you even know how creepy this is? Why were you even there in the first place?!"

He somehow composes himself when you accuse him of being a creep."I was hiding because I have self preservation skills. The guy could've held me at gunpoint!"

"Oh wait yeah..."

Point proven, his awe comes back in full glory. "And...oh my God...you're actually spider-girl?! Woah...that was so cool! You totally kicked his ass!" His deep blue eyes are gleaming with admiration.

"Uh, thank you? And of fucking course I kicked his ass, I am spider-girl, after all." Your wonderful-ness truly has no bounds.

"Hey," he starts shyly, "can I get an autograph? To brag to my friends, you know, that l met the greatest superhero of all time." He was obviously buttering you up, as you were the onlysuperhero ever, but it boosted your ego nonetheless. No way would you turn down a fan, after all.

And so, you comply. He finds it a bit weird that you draw the dots on your 'i's as a small little circle, instead of a dot like normal people, but he doesn't have the courage (or a death wish) to call you out on that. 

After signing his notebook, phone and calculator (weird but okay) you walk him out of the maze of alleyways. Once you make it back to the street, you turn to look at him. "This is it, fanboy. Stay outta trouble, okay? And don't scare people by hiding behind dumpsters, that shit is just weird."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "I told you I didn't mean to do that."

Chuckling, you wink at him. "Sure you didn't. See ya!" 

And with that you swing away, leaving behind an awestruck boy. 

'I am so bragging about that wink,' thinks Isagi.

--

The next week went by pretty normally. No crimes to fight and no fans to awe. But that was okay, because Chigiri did end up convincing that friend of his, named Isagi, to tutor you (for free too!) and now you finally get a chance to deal with the pain in the ass that was AP physics.

You got to the library ten minutes earlier than your tutor. You didn't want him tostart charging you if you were late.

And so you sip your mocha, waiting for your now academic knight in shining armor to save you. Though, your thoughts did end up going back to that guy you met before. I mean, can anyone blame you? He was kinda cute, and getting you to sign his calculator of all things? Total nerd behavior. Y/n approved.

A tap on your shoulder pulls youout of your thoughts. You turn to look at theculprit, ready to go off. What annoying bitch dares to interrupt my daydreaming of fine sh--What?!

You recognized his deep blue eyes. That little sprout on top of his head. It was really him!

Isagi was...the fine shit?!

Authors Note:- This was originally supposed to be one part but it ended up being wayy too long. And my ipad decided to be a bitch and wouldn’t let me airdrop this to my phone so i spent three hours uploading this. Many mistakes were made so if you find any typos please tell me! Also, just because i wanted to say that whenever i put a song in ♫ i don’t mean that i associate the song w the fic, it just means that i listened to it while writing it, unnecessary but still.

[aneurizma]

Watching sanremo

[pupkashi]

we all know gojo satoru will do anything and everything he can to distract you from studying and getting things done because he wants you all to himself and you haven’t given him a kiss in hours (5 minutes) and he feels like he’s gonna die soon (he’s a little hungry) and he wants to spend his dying moments with you (he’s gonna go buy your favorite takeout)

you eventually cave when you reach a good stopping point, grateful that your lover has a meal ready for you because you’d forgotten to eat and he just can’t afford to have you die on him because he doesn’t know how he’d survive without you by his side

but what about gojo satoru who is surprisingly strict when you have an exam coming up and you’re doing everything in your power to procrastinate studying

“toru let’s watch that movie you wanted to watch!” you’d smile brightly, shoving aside your laptop and laying on his chest, “go watch your lectures instead and then I’ll think about it,” he’d reply, handing you your laptop once more, a smile on his face.

“you wanna go for a walk? i hear the weathers great right now” your attempt of escaping studying was quickly ruined by a clap of thunder and the sound of pouring rain. gojo only smiled as he pointed back to your study materials.

gojo satoru who knows exactly how to get you to study even when you don’t want to.

“if you finish at least half of what you wanted to do today, I’ll cook us some dinner and we can put on the show we’re watching together, deal?” his snowy hair tickled the tip of your nose as he leaned in a little closer to you. the smell of his cologne overpowering your senses as you closed your eyes and hummed in agreement, your lips meeting his softly.

satoru pulled away before you could even attempt at escalating the kiss, pressing quick kiss to your forehead and leaving you to do work. only interrupting to bring you water or snacks, telling you how great you were doing and how proud he was of you.

before you knew it satoru was telling you it was time for dinner and you’d done much more than the half you’d agreed on, smiling and gushing to your lover at how productive you were.

gojo satoru who always makes sure you have everything you need to study, buying you candles, highlighters and any other thing you might need to study (he bought you a tablet after you mentioned it in passing once, you did amazing that semester and he’s convinced it was the tablet)

he’ll always give you the extra push you need to go study and work hard, but he’s also there to tell you to take a break, to not stress out and enjoy a day off because you work so hard

he’s there to help you relax and assure you that even if you don’t study today, you have a couple more days left and you can get everything down in time. he’s there to hold you in his arms when you’re scared you did terrible on an exam, he’s there to kiss your tears away when you feel underprepared.

he’s there with sweets and your favorite show after you get home from an exam you feel you didn’t do well on. satoru is always making sure you know that you know you’ll be okay, that you’re still making him proud

gojo satoru who is always your #1 supporter, making sure you turned in every assignment and going out of his way to make sure you knew how proud he was of you, even when you didn’t wanna study, even when you failed a test, and especially when you graduate

[ringosmistress]

[leonisandmurex]

A Princess named Anne

Princess Royal, The one most loyal, To the British crown, You recognize that frown? That steely glare?? You'd be forgiven to think she doesn't care, Well the opposite is truth! For who's stalwart duty skyrockets the roof? ANNE MAN! Who else would it be?! The Olympian, Equestrian, Farmer and Jockey, Her Father in another formation, Who squashed the Princess expectation, Snapped the pristine silver spoon, To criticism she is wisely immune, Scoffs at the presses "fairy stories", Not one to take all the glory, Slackest working royal...haha!! Nice try!! Because when all men are down who's the bloody standby?!?! ANNE GODDAMN! This timeless muse who can't refuse, Recycled garments from headwear to shoes, This devoted Mother, Grandmother and Wife, Who lives a Tim loving abundant life, This stoic blessed girlboss, Who doesn't give a toss, Yet CLEARLY gives a damn, There is no one like you Ma'am, Princess Anne