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#who features prominently in the fic
batrogers · 1 month
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@ageless-soul-au They so kindly keep letting me play with their boys, despite how criminally I mistreat them...
Anyways, this one I already wrote the fic to go with it:
Rating M for temporary character death, hostage situation and hostile bargaining. Moderately graphic, but the death happens off-screen.
(The Dollmaker of the fic is originally @next-hero-in-line's but how can I stop introducing her to more Links? It's enrichment.)
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altschmerzes · 9 months
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ao3 tagging conundrums they will never end
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A new chapter for you, dear readers! :)
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seen people saying it seems kind of odd that Melissa would go over and be nice to the new sub and. hear me out. what if she knew they were queer and wanted to show solidarity
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alteredphoenix · 1 year
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Thinking about how MHA is in its final arc and how insane it is that we still don’t know who the hell Deku’s dad is.
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sturnsdarling · 1 month
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You're much better company, tough girl
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fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her
vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.
4k words
A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind. PSA REGARDING PART 2
love and cigs, merc
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The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard  a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette. 
"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.
Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly. 
"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs. 
"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features. 
"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket. 
"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word. 
"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?" 
You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.
“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps. 
“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.
"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. 
Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.
“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory
"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips. 
His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned. 
"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag. 
“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth. 
“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.
“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out. 
“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth. 
Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth. 
“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.
a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”. 
Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks. 
As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face. 
“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence. 
“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue. 
Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing. 
A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach. 
Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him, 
“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words. 
With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue. 
“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.
“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck. 
“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside. 
The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets. 
“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt. 
“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist. 
“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck. 
You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top. 
“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly. 
“mhm” you nodded, desperately. 
“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern. 
“Yes, Matt, take it off, please”  The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody. 
“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric. 
“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso. 
He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.
“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt. 
“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt. 
“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties. 
“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands. 
He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight, 
“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected  at the entrance to your pussy. 
You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly. 
“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning. 
“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling. 
He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you. 
“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit. 
His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh. 
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you. 
He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him. 
“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them. 
He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you. 
“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you. 
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in. 
“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged. 
“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock. 
Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.
 A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly. 
He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance. 
“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls. 
The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue. 
The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once. 
“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out. 
You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair. 
He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster. 
Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.
“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you. 
With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him. 
“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust. 
“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe. 
He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips. 
“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you. 
His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock. 
“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper. 
“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick. 
“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy, 
“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm. 
With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you. 
He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him. 
You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip. 
He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest. 
“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh. 
“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.
“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him. 
You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips. 
“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home. 
“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.
“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.
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mondaymelon · 7 months
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₊⊹ 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞! | genshin males x gn!reader
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「 "𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!"」
— in which you give him chocolates before he attempts to give you his??
— fluff. highschool!au but built like a shoujo manga lmao ... happy valentine's day ~ ♡ another fic will be going out tomorrow :)
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THOMA, albedo, ayato, alhaitham, childe, KAVEH, HEIZOU, VENTI, GAMING, CHONGYUN, KAZUHA, wriothesley, tighnari, freminet, lyney ♡
Calling yourself a "romantic" person would be quite a stretch.
Saying Valentine's was your favorite day of the year would be even worse.
Sure, sure, you'd heard plenty of things, from the nagging old man manning the grocery store, always red in the face from regular swigs of cheap liquor, or the seemingly never endless musings from your classmates, swooning and fainting every moment anyone, or more specifically, the leads starring in those dramas of theirs, did anything remotely affectionate.
Young, innocent love, while a splendid thing, for someone like you, your really only option was to endlessly pine after someone who would certainly not return your affections.
The recipient of such foolish affections? That much was obvious. What a rather hopeless person, you were.
At the very least, he seemed to enjoy your presence. A smile would adorn his lips, and he'd always meet your gaze with his familiar greeting of, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"
Fuck, you hated how such a simple line, questioning of your wellbeing, could tug at your heartstrings so effortlessly. The man was playing you like a fiddle, and a part of you didn't try to resist that.
So the moment February 14th rolled itself around, bearing promises of youthful laughter, baby cupids, hearts, and sweets, you tried not to pay heed to the extra weight of chocolates in your school bag.
Had you stayed up late making them just the right sweetness, making sure they were perfectly heart-shaped?
Yes. As stated previously, you were truly hopeless.
"Ah, good morning." Wow, look at you, taking the initiative to greet someone? Truly, a day of magic and wonder! You're almost jump scared at the sight of him in your classroom, just what the fuck was he doing here? He leaned against the doorway, looking terribly pretty in the morning lighting.
This was not doing wonders to your heart.
Upon seeing you, he straightened his posture, looking suspiciously sheepish with an extra non-characteristic, flusteredness on his features. "You're here early today."
"It's Valentine's." That's all you managed to sputter out with that tied tongue of yours.
"Yes, and?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, not entirely convinced, and followed you to your seat like some sort of lost puppy.
Your brain raced to find a rationale he'd deem reasonable. "Uhm, ah... my friend... is planning to confess to a guy, so I had to come early and help her... set up the place she's planning to do so at?"
"I see... ah," His eyes lit up like he had thought of something. "Are you free after school? We should meet up afterward, so you can tell me how it went...?"
"Yes!" You responded a little too quickly, and cussing yourself out in you head, you corrected it. "Ahem- yes, I'd like that." The burning feeling that arose on your face was starting to become too prominent to ignore.
He didn't seem to pay it any mind, and instead beamed in a close-eyed smile. "Perfect. Then, I'll see you?" You were to bid him goodbye, but he ran off before you could even utter a sound, leaving you rather dumbfounded, blank-faced and still feeling the tingling warmth on your cheeks.
Holy shit, is this my chance?? You’d made chocolates on the eensiest, weensiest off chance that you might grow bold enough to hand it to him, even if under the pretense of “as friends”, but with the violent way your heart was pounding in your chest, you didn’t think avoidance would be an option.
Ahaha, you were making a mistake, weren’t you?
Only one way to find out.
The rest of the day went by as predicted. Fanatic screams and a wave of crazed people chasing after the more popular figures of the school, throwing boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses... hey, wasn't this a safety hazard? There were other screams too - but not of excitement, but terror as a man was crushed and trampled under a wave of love-sick girls chasing after the popular boy in class 2-A.
You just hoped that he wouldn't sue the school. The place was already cutting enough corners when it came to the monstrosity of cafeteria food.
The bell rang, signaling your freedom, and you massaged your shoulders with a sigh. You'd survived, somehow. As you stepped out the door, a ding from your phone alerted you with a text, and as you lit up the screen, the corner of your lips unconsciously turned upwards into a soft smile.
hot guy <3 - don't forget.
hot guy <3 - ill be waiting for you
Stepping into his classroom, you scanned your surroundings for the familiar sight of the man. Low and behold, there he was, sat upon, presumably, his desk, and staring out the window like some main character. You walked over, trying your best to disregard the clamminess of your fingers - or more specifically, the hand that was holding your homemade chocolates hidden safely(?) away behind your back. His features brightened at the sight of you, and he swung his legs, ushering you over to share the view with him.
"Sorry, did you wait long?" You sheepishly grinned as he scooted to the side to give you space to sit down next to him. As you did so, you were made painfully aware of how his body was still pressed up against yours. “I almost got trampled on my way here, not a pretty sight.”
“...Pretty sight?” He echoed his words, tilting his head as he pondered, the slightest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “You?”
“W-What? No, I-” You cleared your throat before he could say another word, trying to dispel the blush on your features. Naturally, you failed to do so. “What kind of things are you saying now? Just who’d you learn that from?”
“Haa? What do you mean, learned? I just said the truth, that’s all…”
God, he was so adorable. This man had definitely run off with your heart.
Now or never, you supposed. Standing upwards abruptly, you pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’d been hiding behind your back the entire time, visibly trembling as you held it outwards.
“Will you be my valentine?”
It took him the count of three to respond, his eyes round and doe-like. He blinked rapidly, and then his cheeks flushed - not with his usual cheeriness, but a red that definitely spoke of flusteredness. “H-Hey, that's no fair…”
“...What?” Damn, was this your rejection? You had expected as much, but-
“I was supposed to give you chocolates first, y’know…”
And just like that, the familiar boy before you reached beside him into the darkly lit space and pulled out his own box of chocolates, lightly colored and wrapped beautifully in shimmering golden ribbon. “It took me so long to do this, and yet…”
“Holyfuckingshitwhat.” The curses flew from your mouth, condensed into a single word. “W- H- Y-You… You got chocolates for me?”
Now this was a first. Seeing his cheeks and tips of his ears all rosy, and seeing him all kicked-puppy-like. He nodded slowly, “Mhm… But, this is good too!”
He likes me.
He likes me.
He likes me.
Hoooooly shit.
“Ah, oh no, I didn’t give you an answer, did I?” His usually soft eyes now filled with panic. “Don't tell me I'm too late, I’ll be your valentine!”
The chocolates, surely, would be sweet. But the sensation of your lips meeting his, the undeniable warmth he bestowed upon you — it was sweeter than anything. ♡
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(a/n) lmao guess what. i got sick again. i was sick last month and i mfucking sick and dying again and the only thing saving me is shitty couhg medicine that doesn't even work and like expired coughdrops my couhgdrop supply is running low and oh god i don't THINK IM GOINNA MAKE IT-
hahah anyways remember when i said id come back. well . guess what. ive been working on original works for a while now, but the delulu has indeed returned ( for longer than a week this time, hopefully )
i did work on some stuff during my inactivity! the post will probably be out tomorrow, but please don't be upset if i push the date back :)
anyways whipped up this quick drabble so all of you could be well fed on valentines. remember that its okay to be single on this day, and that there are plenty of other people out there like you. there is no shame in being single, and i love every one of you ! mwah <33
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໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori
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mikgreo · 4 months
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BLLK BOYS! + “tits, boobs, or thighs?”
18+ slight nsfw, fluff.
ft. isagi, sae, aiku, reo, nagi, shidou.
a/n: im having blue lock brainrot and i cant escape them. YES, i had to write each one individually😊 kinda biased on reo.. hes my fav<3
MIGHT DO A PT. 2!!
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➩ YOICHI ISAGI thighs.
he likes to think of himself as a gentleman, so he fears that staring at your ass or tits would make you uncomfortable. but from past experiences and from what hes seen, hes picked up that girls love having hands on their thighs. he loves resting his hands on your thighs and giving them an occasional squeeze. he doesnt care if your skinny, chubby, or overweight, he loves them, as much as he loves you.
“huh? honey, why are you asking me that, haha.” he scratches the back of his head, “if i had to be honest, i’d say your thighs, i love how squishy they are.”
he says as he kissed your cheek and hugged you tight, “i love you no matter what, baby <3.”
➩ ITOSHI SAE ass.
sae loves buying you expensive dresses, he likes bringing you to the fancy dinners or parties his co-workers invite him to. he loves the way the tight dresses he buys you complement your body and curves. he has you close by at all times and is very possessive of you, he finds himself holding you under his “wing” and putting his hands on your waist. he knows what he has and isnt scared to show it off, but he also knows youll be facing him the whole time, so he likes to show off his girl.
“hm. probably yer ass.” he said having the same nonchalant look on his face. “i like having those old geezers have something, they wish they could get, to look at. makes em reaal jealous. makes me the best for having such a beauty by my side.”
“i like showing off my trophies.”
➩ OLIVER AIKU tits.
aiku has a guilty pleasure of sucking on your boobs, he denies having a mommy kink, but he thinks it would be so fucking hot getting you pregnant and sucking milk out of your tits. hes not picky, but he prefers bigger boobs, he likes laying his head on them also, while fondling them.
“i hate to admit, but i fuckin’ love your tits, babe.” he looks up at you while he has his head on your chest.
“they’re jus so damn squishy and round, they sit so pretty, luv.”
➩ MIKAGE REO thighs.
growing up around money and wealthy people, the rich women he would encounter had always had some sort of plastic surgery/ procedure done, which he hated. he wanted a woman who had natural beauty, and a naturally beautiful personality to go with that. so when he met you, he fell in love, of course he couldn’t immediately act on it, not only fearing his parents disapprovement but he was scared that you would only like him for his money. but you guys hit it off just fine (a/n: i will prob write a fic ab this later, teehee.) present time, he is so inlove with you, he likes that you have natural features, of course paying no mind that you wear makeup or not, he loves you for you. he likes your thighs because its the only thing he knows a woman cant change about herself, he likes the naturalness that comes with them.
“Well, i love your thighs baby.. probably because i love laying on them, and i love how warm they are. so comfy too.” he kisses the top of your head.
“.. and cus i know thats the only thing you cant change about yourself so they’re mine forever<3.”
➩ SEISHIRO NAGI tits.
why? cus he likes the erocticness of them. (a/n: is that a word??) hes seen many video games with big busted women, so he’s always found them attractive, nagi also thinks its too much of a hassle to focus on anything else on the body, naturally boobs are the most prominent feature on a girls body, they easily stand out. so he just went with that. he personally likes to lay on them, alot. nagi would prefer smaller chested girls, mainly because he thinks theyre adorable, he would definitely belittle you because of it, since he is so used to seeing women with big boobs, he thinks small ones are less overwhelming, but cute.
“mm, probs yer boobs. i like the way they feel, like stress balls, i like that theyre not big, but not too small. theyre just right for me. theyre cute.”
he definitely was confused on why you were blushing but also mad at him. no girl wants her boyfriend to tell her she has a small chest!!!
➩ RYUSEI SHIDOU ass.
shidou loves slapping your ass. in public? hes gripping it. private? cupping it. around his friends? slapping it. there will never be a time where hes not doing something with your butt. this man is a sucker for doggy, and backshots, o how he loves them. he definitely makes u do reverse cowgirl as well. definitely unironically says “gyat” to you..
will eat ur butt. will do anal. hes that freaky..
“you seriously asking me dis? obviously yer fucking butt dude i love it, i could go onnn and on about how soft and jiggly it is. level 5 gyat mama.” he winked at you turning around, crouching down to get something from the fridge. you sprinted over to him just to slap his butt for revenge.. he did not like that. lets just say u wont he walking anytime soon!!
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raan-miir-tah · 2 years
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Jay is my least favorite, I say, after counting hundreds of legos to organize my bricklink order and then writing the cutest Jaya scene I could come up with
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seresinhangmanjake · 3 months
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Come Back Knockin'
Benny Cross x reader (the bikeriders fic)
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Summary: When Benny finds out you're pregnant, he panics and takes off. You don't think he's ever going to come back to you, so you start trying to figure out your future without your husband by your side. And then one day, there's a knock at your door.
Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, lots of cursing, mentions of abandonment, angst but not forever, mention of pregnancy, probably typos.
Words: 2900
Part 2: Come Back Together Benny Cross Masterlist 
“Benny, where are you going!” you cry, watching in disbelief as he turns away from you and exits your shared bedroom. “Benny!”
He doesn’t stop at your call. Doesn’t even flinch. Your voice is a pathetic grasp around his wrist that he shakes off like a pesky mosquito. He’s leaving, you realize, and when your body finally catches up with that understanding, you rush after him. 
His strides are long, double the length of yours, and he’s already got his jacket off the hook and is pulling it over his shoulders by the time you’re able to close in on him.
“Benny, don’t go!” you wail in a desperate plea, but it’s still useless, and a moment later you’re chasing him out the front door into the rain. “Please!”
You’re both drenched in an instant, hair stuck to your heads like a pair of drowned alley cats. Your nipples pebble through your thin, white nightgown that now shows every curve of your figure. The denim on his body deepens a few shades of blue from absorbing every drop of the downpour. 
“Benny!” you try once more. 
He doesn’t so much as glance over his shoulder as he crosses the street toward his bike, so you stop your chase before your bare feet leave the last step of your front porch. All you can do is watch. Watch his long leg swing over the seat of the bike. Watch him kick the beast to life. Watch how he glows angelic-like under the intense ray of the streetlight; a spotlight on the man you love who is running away from you. 
You don’t bother calling for him again. Your voice would only be muffled by the relentless drumming of heavy rain on pavement. Benny leans forward, and without checking for other vehicles, pulls into the street and drives until the darkness of night claims every speck of light from his bike. 
He’s gone. 
And you’re alone. 
You hadn’t expected him to be overjoyed by the news—it’s why you waited nearly three weeks to tell him—but you didn’t foresee such anger over the actuality of being a father. When you told him you were pregnant, his face had darkened in a manner you’ve only witnessed right before his fist meets the jaw of a rival biker. And, in some respect, he'd treated you the same. Like you were a pest, a nuisance, an object put in his path solely for the sake of pissing him off; the difference being that Benny would never lay a hand on you. So instead, he'd left.
On day three of your husband’s absence, Johnny had stopped by to ‘see if the kid was still alive,’ and you were left with the burden and embarrassment of telling him that Benny had skipped town. Johnny had asked why, of course, so you told him, and by the way his features twisted from surprise to desolation, you knew he also saw little hope in your husband returning to you. 
Benny has had his reasons for not wanting to be a father, failure a prominent knot in the back of his mind, but it’s not as if you planned this. It was an accident. An accident that you can’t just wish away because he doesn’t know how to handle being what you and this baby need him to be. 
“I’m real sorry, sweetheart,” Johnny had said. You’d done your best to hold in the tears while long beats of melancholy silence passed between you. “Listen, you ever need anythin’, you know Betty and me, we love ya, so…”
You’d nodded, wrapping your arms around your middle to stave off a sudden chill. “Thanks, Johnny.” 
He nodded as well, then he'd sighed and glanced around your quiet street as if expecting to see Benny ride up any second. “Well,” he said once it was clear neither of you would be finding that relief, “don’t be a stranger.”
He’d left after that and you haven’t seen him since. Not because you don’t appreciate him, but because he reminds you too much of Benny. Betty had called a few times—she’s as much a mother figure to you as Johnny was to Benny—but you weren’t very forthcoming with enthusiasm at talking baby plans and motherhood. At one point, in an effort to lift your spirits, she’d even mentioned throwing a shower, which immediately made you drop the phone and rush to the bathroom to lose your breakfast. 
When you’d returned, the phone was dangling by the coiled cord, Betty’s concerned voice coming through the speaker. You’d put it up to your ear, told her you'd call her back, and hung up the damn thing. You didn’t call her back. You think she got the message. 
In the weeks that have passed, many of the guys have come by to check on you, and in the beginning, you were somewhat receptive, but it was solely to abstain from hurting feelings and severing ties so harshly. You’re positive the relationships won’t last. You were in the biker lifestyle because of Benny. He brought you into a pre-established family unit, and without him, you don’t belong. 
You know the day may come when you regret letting the club go. Its members are the only people who have reached out their hands to you, but for now, you’re too numb to care, and with that numbness comes self-destruction. And with your particular brand of self-destruction comes isolation. Solitude. Loneliness. You’ve put yourself in place to navigate the future alone. Finding a job to support your child, hoping you’ll make enough so you don’t lose your house—that’s your priority now, and you have no choice but to step up and figure it out. 
As it turns out, no one wants to hire a pregnant woman. Well, no one you’ve contacted wants to hire a pregnant woman, but you’re willing to bet they’re a decent indicator of most companies' future rejection. 
It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t be telling them of your condition, but your bones are built of honesty and when they ask if you’ll be able to work long-term, you don’t hesitate to reveal the truth. In fact, the truth is out of your mouth before the thought to lie slithers into your head. 
You’re going to have to toughen up, be someone you’re not used to being, if you intend to survive. And that’s all you let yourself think about anymore. When Benny slips into your thoughts, you work tirelessly to shove him aside. It’s taken practice, self-discipline, but you’ve made some progress. Just yesterday you were finally able to overcome your urge to run to the window at hearing the grumble of a motor passing by your house. 
The next goal is to bag up his clothes and stow them away in the attic, but you’ve yet to face his side of the closet without breaking down. And to make it all the more agonizing, the fabrics still smell like him. You could wash them five times over and it would do nothing to remove his scent.
Sometimes, at the peak of your pathetic impulses, you want to sneak inside and bury yourself amongst the cheap and tattered clothes. Turn them into a blanket. Forget everything. But you’ve managed to resist.
Baby steps, you internally repeat as you bring a spoonful of cereal to your lips. You like the sugary stuff now. The stuff that kids gobble down before school. Bad for an expectant mother, yes, but you’re not about to scold yourself for what little enjoyment you find in this life. 
Suddenly, a knock taps on the door. Your head shoots up and your heartbeat stutters at the sound, but you don’t move to answer it. These days, it’s rare you answer it at all. The guys know not to bother you, as do Betty and Gail and Kathy. If they see you’re home, they leave their tupperware-filled home-cooked meals at your doorstep, knowing you’ll grab them once they leave. Anyone else—salesmen or mailmen or whomever—always gives up after a few minutes. 
However, this knocking has yet to cease. It must be a salesman, you think with a groan, and he must not have gotten the memo from other neglected salesmen that you’re a house to avoid. You can’t afford the latest vacuum model, you don’t care to own a stack of encyclopedias, and for the love of god, if you have to tell one more well-dressed man that your missing-in-action biker husband is not in need of a new shaving brush you’re gonna start keeping Benny’s handgun on the entryway table. 
The tapping turns into full-fledged banging that shakes the house, and now you’re irritated, offended on the weathered structure’s behalf. Your chair scrapes across the floor as you stand sharply and round the corner into the hall. A curse is on your lips as you wrap your hand around the knob, twist, and pull, but it dies. More than dies, it’s sucked right out of your lungs along with your breath. 
You want to slap him, split his puffy lips and watch the blood run down his chin. You want to shove him back so he’ll fall down the stairs and land on his ass. You want to get your breath back because that curse is clawing for freedom and you desperately want to let it out. But you can’t. You’re frozen.
He looks like shit. Well, as much as Benny Cross can look like shit, which is quite unimpressive compared to other men, but at least he doesn’t look well-rested. There’s some satisfaction in that, limited as it may be. 
“Hi, baby,” he says. The low tone shudders your spine. If he’s happy to see you he doesn’t show it, but you know that even if he is, he wouldn’t dare smile after what he did. 
Your swallow is hard, painful, and as the ease with which he spoke those two words sinks in, every emotion you’ve felt since he vanished bubbles over the edge of your resolve.
“‘Hi, baby’?” you echo. “Are you serious? That’s the best you’ve got, you asshole?” Your hand smacks against his chest and the unexpectedness of it forces him to stumble back a foot. You follow his stumble, stepping out onto the porch. “It’s been six weeks, Benny!”
He sighs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know.”
“Six fucking weeks!” With your second smack, his fingers latch around your wrist, but he doesn’t push your hand away, he keeps it planted above his heart, refusing to let you go. 
Dipping his head, he stares directly into your eyes. The intensity momentarily stuns you. “I know,” he repeats.
“Oh, you know,” you say, trying to jerk out of his grasp. “You abandon your pregnant wife and you think knowing that you’ve done it means a damn thing to me? Fuck off!”
“No,” he calmly replies.
“Yes!” you bark.
“No.”
Tears begin to cloud your vision. He disappeared and broke your heart at the worst possible time and now that you don’t want him here, he refuses to leave. And how horrible, how fucking humiliating to have your husband dismiss your desires so flippantly. 
“I hate you!” you snap.
“I love you.”
“You left!”
“I panicked.” His free hand lands on your shoulder and slides up your neck to cup your cheek. “I panicked, baby,” he says softly.
That gentle tone pierces your skin against your will and seeps into your veins, spreading throughout your body a sedating sensation. Just enough of the drug to slow your violent pulse without knocking you out completely. And in the absence of such potent rage, sorrow takes over. 
Your bottom lip quivers. Salty drops create lines down your cheeks and drip off your chin onto the rotting floorboards beneath your feet. He was supposed to replace those. It was going to be a summer project but a month and a half has already been carved out of the season and the floorboards still bow under your weight.
“Why were you allowed to panic?” you whimper. “I didn’t get to panic, so how come you got to?”
He sighs, his calloused thumb stroking your cheek. He doesn’t have a response but you didn’t expect one, at least not one with any substance, so you continue. “You know what I’ve been doing while you were out panicking? Trying to find a job so I can afford this house and provide for our child the way a parent should. But no one’s been willing to hire me.”
Benny’s brow pinches and his grip on your hand tightens. Broad shoulders fall forward as if you've just placed a few hefty boulders upon them. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathes. “I’m sorry. I shoulda been protecting you from those kinds of worries. I shoulda been here.”
“Well, you weren't.”
“I'm gonna be,” he tells you, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe that you believe him. “I am.”
You wish you could trust his word. You wish it was that simple. You wish you were more forgiving, but a situation conflicting enough to require this level of forgiveness is not something you’ve dealt with before. You’ve experienced loss in your life, and you know it well—your father left and your mother disengaged from motherhood, but neither were so rude as to put you in a place to contemplate forgiveness for their betrayal. Neither came back to request it. 
“Will you wait here?” he asks, “and not lock me out when my back is turned? Please?”
You’re severely tempted to do just that because, frankly, he’s made you wait for him long enough. But for some reason, you don't. You cast your gaze aside, cross your arms, and after a couple of seconds, nod your head. 
In your peripherals, you detect his light smile. Then he turns, walks back to his bike, and wrestles a brown paper-wrapped package out of the pack attached to his seat.   
“What is this?” you ask as he returns to the porch and offers it to you. 
“If I was just going to tell you then why would I have wrapped it?”
You almost roll your eyes at the image of Benny taking the time to wrap anything for anyone, as normally he’d enlist someone else (you) to do it, but looking at it, it really is a poorly packaged mess. Wrinkled and ripped in one spot, with a lop-sided bow tied from the string that’s holding the parcel together. Definitely Benny-quality work for this sort of task.
As you tear through the wrapping, Benny collects your scraps, balling the shredded paper together and setting that ball down on the porch railing. The small blanket in your hands is made of bright green fabric with fringed trim, and when you unfold it, hanging it high to get a look at the full thing, you see a white duckling embroidered into one of the corners. 
You lower the blanket so you can meet Benny's eyes. “Why a duck?”
He sticks his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “They didn't have any with little Harley’s,” he teases.
To your great internal shame, you have to choke down a chuckle. His innocent joke instantly reminds you that he’s the one man who can make you laugh, the one who won you over because of his subtle wittiness and his less subtle charm. And now you fucking miss him, damn it. You’d convinced yourself you’d gotten over that, but even as he stands within touching distance, holding distance, kissing distance, you miss him.  
He clears his throat. “Um…if you don't like it I can–”
“No,” you stop him, shaking your head. “I don't particularly like you at the moment, but…” You exhale and give the gift another glance. “I like the blanket.”
Benny nods. His adam’s apple bobs harshly in his throat as you refold the blanket and clutch it to your chest. 
“You think you could like me again one day?” he asks. “You know, if I prove myself real well.”
Your eyes narrow as they flick up to his ocean blues. “Prove yourself as what?”
“A husband,” he says. “A father.”
A husband. A father. One of which he’s been good at in the past—prior to the disappearing act, of course—and one of which you used to believe he’d be good at in the future if that was where fate led you, which it has. But…you don't know. 
You have two options. That’s it. Yes or no. Can you risk it or not? It’s a lot to take in but the reality is, there’s a question you must answer before you can answer any others—did the bomb he threw at your lives shatter your heart to an unmendable state? 
You chew on your cheek, your jaw ticks, and then with a huff, you straighten your spine. 
“You can never do this again,” you declare firmly, poking your index finger into the center of his chest. “I mean it, Benny. If you do, we won't be here when you come back.”
The ropes of rigidness unravel from his body. “Baby, this is where I wanna be,” he says, stepping into your space once more. “I promise.”
You can feel your heartbeat jackrabbiting from his closeness now that your overwhelming emotions have somewhat subsided.
“You’re sleeping on the couch,” you tell him.
Benny grins. “That's fair.”
---
maybe a part 2? Let me know :)
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soft-girl-musings · 7 months
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Stranger Danger
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Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
cross-posted to ao3
MK Spring Bingo entry #5
tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n
wc: 1,138
fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)
_____________________
“Oops, careful!”
Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.
“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.
“Oh my gosh, hi!”
Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.
He’s never seen you before.
“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.
“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.
Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.
being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend
Steven doesn’t know you.
But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”
Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”
His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”
“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.
Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.
do you see a man in a black jacket?
Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.
“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.
“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”
“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”
You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.” 
You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”
“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”
You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.
“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”
In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you. 
He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.” 
Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction. 
So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.
“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.
“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.
“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.
You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”
“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.
“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”
“Sure.”
Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”
“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”
You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”
Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).
When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.
_____________________
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A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...
as always, ty for reading <3
event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight
addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)
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binniesbooks · 29 days
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hi fayebae(again), clearly our convo from insta got to my head, once again feeding ur soobin delulu(that's what I'm here for) bf!soobin x reader! (soobin and reader is dating and are living together)
it was mayb a few days before your cycle, which meant that you were hornier than usual. you waited for soobin to get home from work until you fell asleep. let's say your horny thoughts were really apparent as while you were having wet dreams, your moans were also happening in real time. and that's what soobin came back to. you moaning his name, asking him to fuck you deeper.
soobin couldn't hold back his thoughts either, and ended up joining you in bed. he starts leaving kisses along your prominent jawline, which he loved so much, until he reached your mouth, giving you soft pecks to wake you up from your slumber.
you were shocked when you realized that everything happening in your dream was happening to you in real time.
"wanna tell me what you were dreaming of? i heard you moaning my name and I want in on it." soobin said
(you alr know!! SMUT SMUT SMUT LETS GO hehe i hope it awakes smth in you gahh <33) enjoy~
• ENGAGEMENT RING
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SB 000 .F23 2024
wc 2.9k
pairings officeworkerbf!Soobin x ovulatingfem!reader
warnings slight fingering, edging, marking, breeding kink, cum play, mention of marriage (+ anything I've missed)
faye's note this would be special for my fellow moas who has sharp features like me. (I think this fic would come out a little bit biased than the others, please don't roast me 😖 I have a prominent jawline, and she's just feeding my delusions these past few weeks 😭😂) I just had to do it. Nevertheless, I hope you still enjoy this one, please just disregard the personalized features 😖😖😖)
"Bin, seriously! My back hurts so damn much," you groaned as you tried massaging your back for the nth time today.
Your body has been aching for a while now as your cycle was nearing. And there were no other symptoms to check, other than your aching lower back and a pounding headache.
Soobin was panicking, again. He doesn't know what to do first. Should he check on the food that he was cooking, answer the ringing phone, or attend to your needs?
You chuckled as you watched him pace around, not knowing what to do.
"Turn off the stove first, loverboy. Then answer the phone." You were now sprawled out on the couch. You tried your best to stretch, straighten, and relax your back. It just felt like you were being torn into two.
"Yes, I sent it already. All right. Let's check it tomorrow." Soobin was speaking to someone on the phone. Maybe his manager?
"Is something wrong?" you asked when he hangs up.
Soobin hums, sitting down on the couch in the free space just above your head.
"I think my manager misplaced, no, probably deleted the file I sent him," he said, gently stroking your hair.
You moved up a bit, making his thigh a makeshift pillow as you nuzzled your face against his abdomen.
"You're gonna go out early tomorrow then?" Your voice muffled with his shirt as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
"Looks like it," he sighs. "Lay on your stomach, I'll give you a massage," he adds.
"Dun' wanna," you pout, burying your face more in his abdomen.
"Come on, little bun," he coos, still running his fingers through your hair.
You eventually gave up. Especially since you were feeling so sore and achy in your lower back. Soobin gave you a massage just enough to ease the pain in your back. Not too much pressure, not too little.
After eating dinner and watching him do the dishes—he doesn't want you to do it, of course—you trudged your way to the bathroom. You wanted a warm bath. And a warm bath should be shared by two, right?
"Soobin," you warned. Soobin was planting wet kisses on your shoulder as you two were soaked in the water. The tub is overflowing as you two move.
"Yes, little bun," he answered innocently as he grinned.
"I wanted to relax," you said, rolling your eyes as you leaned on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.
"Relax then. I know you're cycle is near, I just want you closer to me," Soobin muttered under his breath as he wrapped his arms around you. Your eyes were closed, relaxed from the steam coming from your warm bath, until you felt a wet, cold, slimy thing touch your skin.
"Hmm, Soob..." Your voice came out soft and whiny.
Soobin continued kissing and licking your shoulder. His kisses became open-mouthed as they traveled up to your neck.
"Fuck, Bin h-hah..." you squirmed, clutching his hand that was wrapped around you, tilting your head sideways to give more access to your neck.
"Ahh!" You yelped as you felt him sucking on your skin. His tongue is dancing across the red mark on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
"Bin, please..." He knows you want more. He could feel it. Five years of dating isn't nothing, he totally knows you now. What you want and what you don't.
Soobin pulled away, rubbing the mark with his finger. "Let's go and dry up, we might end up catching a cold," he announced.
"Soobin!" You screamed when he got out of the tub and grabbed the towels. He was silently smiling to himself. He got you all worked up, only leaving you wanting more.
After slipping on your pajamas, you quickly buried yourself in bed. Creating a huge distance between the two of you, pouting at what he just did.
Soobin stretched his hand out to reach your waist, trying to pull you closer. You swat his hand and place your pillows between the two of you. "Don't get any closer, I hate you," you pouted. Soobin only chuckled at you. He didn't move, and you fell into a deep slumber.
You woke up with a warm feeling on your cheeks. You snuggled closer to what you thought was your pillow, but weren't pillows supposed to be soft? They are in no way hard at all. You couldn't remember a time when you had a hard and warm pillow.
You opened your eyes to meet a shirtless man—your boyfriend. You were snuggled close to him, with his arm acting as your pillow. But his arm wasn't on your waist, it was just laying on his own waist.
"Hey Mr. Bunny, didn't I tell you not to get close to me?" You gently poked his chest, causing him to groan as he woke up.
"Hmm?" Soobin hums, clueless as to what was happening.
"I said, I told you not to get close to me, and you're even shirtless," you nagged.
"Excuse me, Miss Ma'am, you were the one who snuggled close to me, in this hot season at that." He yawns, his voice deep, hoarse, and sleepy.
"Why would I do that?" You questioned, still angry about last night.
"You don't believe me, don't you?" he chuckled, "Check the CCTV."
Your eyes flew towards the CCTV on the corner ceiling, flashing a small red light, almost invisible to bare eyes. You clicked your tongue, you know that CCTV footage could stand as big evidence.
"I hate you, Bin," you muttered, burying your face in his neck as you ran your hands along his fairly toned chest and abs before wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Mhm, I love you too, little bun," he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.
"What do you want for breakfast?" You asked, still feeling his body warmth radiating off of him.
"Little bun, I want some morning sex," he whispered, gently stroking your hair.
"Don't joke around like that. You're not the one to want those types of things." You pinched his waist as he chuckled, wincing from your pinch.
"You need to get up now, you're going out, right? I'll cook something for breakfast real quick." You sat down on the edge of your bed, fixing your hair. Soobin only sprawled his whole body on the bed. "Wake me up when breakfast is ready, I still want to sleep." His lips were pouty as he uttered his plea.
You gently tapped Soobin's shoulder to wake him up. "Bin. Wake up now, you're gonna be late," you whispered. Soobin grunts and only stirs for a bit before continuing to sleep.
"Loverboy, wake up now." You dipped your head down, kissing his shoulder.
Soobin's eyes flutter with your warm lips touching his fair skin. He smiles to himself, realizing you're giving him shoulder kisses.
Soobin turns, pulling you in for a kiss and a tight hug. Getting up to start preparing for the day.
"I'll get going now, little bun. Take care of yourself, 'mkay? I love you, sweetie," Soobin kissed the tip of your nose before closing the front door. You heard the car engine switch up and the faint sound as he drove away.
You plopped down on the couch, watching your favorite show, when your doorbell rang.
It's not Soobin, you're sure. He never rings the doorbell.
You peeked outside from the window, and you saw a delivery guy standing in front of your house. You open the door slightly, keeping the chain lock intact, just to be sure. You don't want your boyfriend to come home and find you dead.
"Ma'am there's delivery for Mr.... Choi Soobin?" The delivery guy reads the package. It was a small box. "Please sign here as you receive the package," he added.
You thanked the delivery guy and watched him stride away before locking your door.
You sat on the couch once again, turning off the TV as you searched for a cutter or a pair of scissors in the drawer just beside your couch.
You carefully cut the package. It's not yours, but Soobin never questioned you, even when you kept opening his packages. At least he knows it's safe.
You opened the small box, and a shiny little piece of jewelry was neatly sitting inside the box. Your initials and his surname were written in small letters, on a pendant.
You smiled, chuckling to yourself as you wore the necklace and took a picture of yourself. Your jawline was prominent as you looked sideways, taking multiple shots to send him.
Loverboy <3
You: I just received a package, loverboy. I love you :* [5 image attached]
Loverboy: Oh, I even forgot that. That's supposed to be my gift to you, but it was shipped so late. It looks pretty on you, little bun. You're so pretty. I love you so much :)
You felt so excited wearing the necklace, however, your shared apartment always felt empty whenever Soobin was out. It was boring. It was plain. It was just a building whenever he was out—a complete contrast to a home whenever he was with you inside.
After you've completed the chores you were supposed to do, eating your late lunch, and sneaking in an ice cream, the food coma kicks in.
You felt so sleepy, so you headed inside your room. "I'm just gonna take a small nap and wait for him," you muttered, scrolling through your phone to shake off your sleepiness.
You stopped scrolling when you saw a video in your gallery—it was Soobin, and it was a mirror shot. He's shirtless, only wearing his work slacks, and you were on his lap, his dress shirt only draped over your shoulder.
And you were reminded once again about last night. How he kept on fueling your heat only to leave you unsatisfied.
Your ovulation wasn't helping either. Feeling a lot more horny than usual. Especially with your boyfriend being as hot as freshly made bread.
You're body felt on fire as you clicked the video, he was moaning as you kept grinding above him. You played it so many times that it even served as a lullaby to you, slowly lulling you to sleep.
You didn't know how long you were asleep. It was only supposed to be an afternoon nap, but you haven't woken up yet. You didn't even notice the sound of the engine turning off in your garage. Nor the click of the key on the front door. And even the opening of the door to your bedroom.
Soobin watched your sweaty figure sleeping on the bed. Your brows are creasing, your fingers are twitching, and you are clutching the sheets. Small whines and soft whimpers are coming out of your mouth.
His eyes caught the phone warning for a low battery. Soobin swiped on the phone, almost throwing it back to the bed with how hot the phone was. The short video is on replay.
"Soobin..." His head snaps towards your figure as he watches you squirm.
"B-bin... More. N-need you..." You were whimpering. Soobin felt his tiredness suddenly melt away as he felt his cock twitch underneath his pants.
"Please... Deeper ohh, fuck..." Your moans were so soft that they made his stomach twist. You sounded so subby.
Soobin sat beside your sleeping figure, gently caressing your cheeks. Carefully putting away your hair strands, that were stuck against your sweaty forehead.
"Mmmph!" Your head turns to the side, as you rub your thighs together.
Soobin couldn't hold it any longer either. He dipped his head down, kissing your exposed and prominent jawline.
This was only one of the things he really loved about you. Your unique features. Your sharp facial feature completely contrasted with your soft heart.
Your breathy moans made the hair on his nape stand up, it felt too arousing for him. Especially how your lips were being caught between your teeth as you kept on clutching on the sheets.
Quickly slipping out of his buttoned shirt, he bends down once again, gently grabbing both of your wrists to pin them above your head as he continues to kiss your jawline. Soobin left pretty marks on the junction of your neck and shoulder, making him more worked up as your moans got more high-pitched.
His lips move back to your jawline, and he pulls back a little to hover above you, giving you small pecks on your lips as he slowly grinds above you. His hard and throbbing cock felt choked inside his pants.
Your eyes flutter open, grunting at the heavy feeling. Your eyes are meeting his pretty ones.
"Wanna... Wanna tell me what're you dreaming about, little bun? Hm?" Soobin asked, staring down at you, brushing his tongue over his red lips.
"You keep on moaning my name, it's making me feel aroused, you know," he grunts, bucking his hips.
"B-bin?" Your eyes widened, realizing this was not a dream. The real deal was already in front of you, no, above you, rather.
"Yes, pretty. The owner of the name you k-kept on moaning, hah..." His hips started rolling again as his eyes caught the dainty chain wrapped around your neck. "You look beautiful, it suits you," he muttered, barely above a whisper.
"Please," you whined, feeling his hardness pressing on you.
"You don't have to beg this time, I'll gladly give it to you." Soobin pressed on your wrists above your head with only a single hand, while the other travels down your body, feeling your curves.
"My beautiful lady." You bit your lower lip as you looked at him in the eye, doe eyes pleading for more intimate skin contact.
"L-let's get married, soon. I n-need you to carry my babies," he stutters as blush crept on his cheeks.
You nodded, wanting to be with him forever and build a family together.
"Are you on the pill?" he asked, unzipping his pants with a single hand.
"N-no," you whispered. "There's a condom in the draw--"
"Can we do it raw? Fuck, please." His hand is now pulling your pajama shorts away. "Please, baby. Let's do it raw, please," he begs.
You felt the swirl of butterflies in your stomach. You haven't seen this side of Soobin yet. It feels new yet excitingly familiar. Being with Soobin, he had always practiced safe sex. Begging you to take the pill every time and always check to see if there's still a condom left.
"O-okay loverboy. Let's have it your way." You smiled at him, nodding.
Soobin lets go of your wrists, making you wrap one hand around his nape and the other on his back.
"You can be as wild as you want, bun."
Soobin slides in slowly, making you feel raw for the first time. It felt so different. You could feel every vein and curve of his cock. His warm shaft felt hot inside your wet cunt. Your head thrown back to the pillow as he pushes, reeling in the new feeling.
"H-hah! Fuck, S-soobin!" You let out a wanton moan.
"Mhhmp!" he buried his face in your neck as he thrust slowly, loving the new and raw feeling too.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, as you pulled him impossibly closer to you as your other hand clawed on his back.
"Hell..." Soobin winces at the pain from your nails clawing against his back. Maybe it was just him, but they felt sharper against his skin. Multiple long red marks are now visible on his back.
His thrusts were painstakingly slow. He was obviously living in the moment.
His lips and tongue wander on your skin once again. Leaving wet kisses and hickeys along your shoulder and chin. One of his hands sits under your head, holding you still. The other carefully massaging your mound.
"Lil bun... Baby..." he whispers, his pace slowly getting a bit faster.
Your answers turned out to be moans, whines, whimpers, and groans. You couldn't form coherent words.
"Will," he pauses, giving you one harsh thrust. "Will you marry me?"
You were lucky you could even let out a chuckle after receiving a harsh thrust.
"W-will you marry me, y/n?" He asked once again, his thrusts became harder and faster.
"Fuck, ahh! Y-yes!" You held his arm tight, jaw clenching at his fast pace.
"Mmmph! Ahh.." he tried muffling his moans by keeping his mouth closed and just letting out breathy moans.
"B-bin, I'm c-close..." You whined, your hands flying towards your mouth to cover it.
"Be loud," he commands, prying both of your hands away from your mouth.
One more harsh thrust pushed you to the edge, cumming and creaming on his cock, as a wanton moan of pleasure and overstimulation washed over you.
The hot and sloppy feeling made Soobin reach his own orgasm, spurting inside your walls.
He sweeps his hair back, still thrusting inside you from time to time, making sure you'll carry his babies.
Soobin pulls out, some of your mixed essences spilling through your hole. Soobin swipes a glob of it.
He then grabbed one of your hands, swiping the glob of cum on your ring finger in a circular manner.
"I'll ask again, will you marry me?" he chuckled.
"You're really dirty, Choi Soobin, but yes," you answered, smiling ear to ear, still catching your breath.
"Let's see who's the dirty one," he taunts as he swipes his finger once again on your seeping hole, making you suck on his digits.
"My pretty and dirty wife," he smirked as you looked at him with eyes full of lust. Deliciously sucking every drop from his fingers.
@binniesbooks 2024
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macgyvermedical · 25 days
Note
I encountered a drug called "Dextromethorphan" when looking up things that react with grapefruits for a fic. I found out it's been banned in Sweden since the 90s, so I couldn't use it for this specific story, but if you've got any interesting history I'd be happy so know!
Are you ready for this? Like. Ask yourself. Are you really ready for this?
In 1954, a researcher with the US Public Health Service received $282,215 (1954 dollars) from the US Navy, ostensibly to find a non-addictive alternative to an opiate drug called codeine (used for pain and and as a cough suppressant).
So the researcher found a bunch of people who had substance abuse disorder and tested 800 substances on them, trying to find ones that couldn't cause physical or psychological dependence, even on people who were prone to that sort of thing.
(Now, you might be asking if this experiment was ethical. The USPHS was concurrently doing the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study, so while I couldn't find any concrete answer, imma guess no.)
Out of these 800 tested substances, we use 3 today: propoxyphene (used as a painkiller), diphenoxylate (used as a diarrhea medication), and dextromethophan (a cough suppressant (and, as of 2022, part of a fast-acting antidepressant)).
Importantly, it was later noted that all of these are addictive substances and today most of them require a prescription. Though depending on where you are in the world, you might just have to be over 21 and show an ID.
You might think this sounds like a pretty standard story.
You would be wrong.
Because while the US Navy was the one handing the money to the USPHS, the US Navy had come by it via the Central Intelligence Agency.
Yes. The good ol' CIA.
So what stake did the CIA have in a non-addictive codeine replacement? Nothing, it turns out. That's just what they'd told the US Navy. What they really wanted was an incapacitant- a drug that causes incapacitation like unconsciousness or continuous hallucinations- without killing. Incapacitants are also useful for discrediting prominent political figures by making them look like they have severe mental health concerns, which was another reason the CIA wanted them.
This was part of a project called MKPILOT.
And wouldn't you like to know which of the three listed above they liked the most? Dextromethorphan. Because at high doses it causes severe- and incapacitating- hallucinations (this is also why it is banned in Sweden).
The problem with it is that it requires really, really high doses (about 3 grams, which would have to be packaged in some other substrate)- this would make it difficult to slip into a drink or food.
(It should be noted that around the same time, the US Army was doing research into a much more usable incapacitant called 3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate which required as little as 150mg of the substance to be useful- it was featured in a MacGyver episode and I did a nice little review of it here. While I have no sources that say the CIA was directly involved in funding this, based on their extensive funding of similar DoD projects at the time, they probably did.)
But you wanted to know about how grapefruit interacts with dextromethorphan:
A substance in grapefruit (along with seville oranges, limes, pomelos, and possibly pomegranates) blocks the pathway by which many drugs are metabolized in the liver. This causes the levels of drug in the body to be much higher than expected. In the case of dextromethorphan in particular, it can mean that the drug stays in the body a lot longer- up to 24 hours instead of the usual 3-4 hours. It can also make side effects and toxic effects significantly worse, leading to hallucinations and sedation, even at low doses normally used for coughing.
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saltycharacters · 3 months
Text
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[ID: Artwork mainly featuring Serizawa Katsuya and Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100. The first is a doodle of Reigen and Serizawa sorting through papers, with Serizawa's head resting on Reigen's lap while he cards his fingers through his curls. Next is a drawing of them middle-aged, Serizawa now 50 with a ponytail, purple suit, and a bit more facial hair, and Reigen, now 48, has a prominent grey hair streak, less hair, and a yellow tie. Following that is a page with Reigen and Serizawa drawn over the two guys on a bus meme, but the two guys are facing the sunny window and holding each other. This is labeled as "serirei angst fics (with happy ending)". Below is a short comic with Reigen and Serizawa at a bar, with Reigen, after having one drink, saying, "Just wanted to say I have a crush on you bad. Been feeling this for montgs now and I think it's time I told you about my feelings fr". Serizawa, in shy awe, responds with, "oh... Wait who's that other guy?", to which Reigen clarifies, "Oh he's here for moral support", panning to Shinra also at the bar. Dimple floats above him saying, "LMFAOOOOO be so fr rn" as Shinra says, "I'm here for you. Do yo thing". This is labeled as serirei Reigen-gets-drunk fics. Final drawing is a comic with Serizawa and Reigen eating at a table, and as Serizawa notices Reigen wearing his Season 2 hanten, says, "Oh hey! You found my old hanten!" to which Reigen responds, "Yeah, dug it out of some boxes from under the bed". Serizawa, extending a hand, says, "I was wondering where that went! Give it here, I'll go ahead and get rid of it. No use having it take up space since I no longer-" then pauses what he's saying as he sees Reigen clutch the hanten in a death grip and stare at him with a scary aura. Eventually, Serizawa sheepishly looks away and amends, "O-or... we could just... keep it..." to which Reigen exclaims, "GREAT idea 'Tsuya!". End ID]
Needed to post some final Serirei b4 pride month ends
-----
Don't forget, help Palestine:
-> arab.org <- Click once a day for free
-> gazaesims.com <- Instructs how to donate esims
-> gazafunds.com <- Randomly selects a fundraiser for you to support
-> Fundraiser spreadsheet <- Lists Gazan fundraisers
-> Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet <- Lists other ways to support
-> Resource link google doc <- Has tons of information and links
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aphroditeinthesea · 4 months
Note
Hi! Could I request a Percy Jackson x Daughter of aphrodite reader angst? (this request is inspired by another fic hehe) Where the percy jackson asks the reader to help woo Annabeth (you can decide how if you decide to do this) since she's A daughter and aphrodite and immediately Assumes that she's a master in the love department but the thing is the reader has a huggers crush on percy but she decides to help him out because everyone in camp knows that percy and annabeth are made for each other (just thinking about helping your crush get on with their crush makes my heart acheee😫 Againn if you decide to pick this up you can decide on the ending!!) That's all I wantttt~~ take care of yourself!!!
“ falling feels like flying (til the bone crush) ”
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percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊
a/n i <3 writing percy fics just so i can use a pic of logan lerman (he’s so pretty)
⚠️ extreme and painful longing
˚ ⋆。˚ 𓆝⋆。˚ ⋆
He was so pretty. And that’s coming from a daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N was always admiring him from afar. His black hair that would occasionally be swept away from his face as the wind blew, causing the perfect view of his perfect features. It was confusing how a guy could look that beautiful.
She knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way, of course. Lots of girls had crushes on him. Most prominently, the prettiest daughter of Athena. Who, as if on queue, approached Percy as he was training. She had her curls in a ponytail, no makeup, just sweat that somehow made her glow. She didn't try. And he looked at her like she was all that he worshiped.
“I cant believe youre jealous of her,” one of y/n’s sisters commented.
She scoffed, “I’m not jealous of her,” she faced the other girl, “she’s just a bookworm, who happens to look like if Kate Hudson and Taylor Swift had a baby who was Victoria’s Secret Angel.”
“Mermaid man, twelve o’clock.”
“What?” She turned around to see the son of Poseidon approaching her. She awkwardly flipped her hair to be in front of her shoulders, then a little behind her shoulders, then-
“Y/N! I wanted to talk to you,” he greeted, sitting next to her.
Her sister smirked before walking off with a wink. Her heartbeat quickened, her mind going stupid, “Percsty!” She smiled.
“I have to confess something to you, no one knows, so please don't tell anyone, okay?”
She quickly nodded, “anything, yeah of course. What is it?”
He bit his lips. Oh gods. “I was wondering if you could help me impress Annabeth.”
Heart? Shattered. Brain? Broken. Lungs? Zero air, absolutely nothing.
“You like her?”
He blushed, looking down and fidgeting with his hands, “I do.”
“I can help,” dumbass, “one of the perks of being Aphrodite’s daughter.”
With that, she found herself in cabin three, under terrible, terrible circumstances.
“What’s her favorite flower?”
He thought for a second, “irises.”
Y/N wrote that down in her notebook, which she would promptly be burning at the campfire tonight. The stress was taking her over, she was ready to tear off the pink fluff ball that sat atop the pen.
“Food?”
“Extra olive pizza.”
“Gag me with a spoon,” she blurted as she wrote. “What?”
“What?”
He leaned back on his bed, “you think she’ll like this? I’m not even sure if she likes me back.”
“Trust me,” she sighed, “she does.”
“I dont know.”
“Percy, she does,” she snapped, “especially I planned this whole thing.”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” he grinned, “I really wanna make sure she likes everything.”
“She will,” she reassured. “You know, I never really pegged you as a romantic.”
“Me neither,” he sighed, “but when it comes to her, gods.”
Y/N frowned, “you really love her?”
He stuttered, “I mean, love, that’s a big word. I- uhm- love her- I don’t,” he took a breath, “I do.”
The only way I can explain what y/n thought in that moment was something along the lines of, “alfkhgnlkhsjk.”
She looked next to him from where she was sitting. That’s when she noticed the framed picture on his bedside table. Him and Annabeth, two years ago it looked to be. His arm around her shoulder, both of them seemed to have been laughing when the candid was taken. That's when it hit her. The bright smiles on their faces were the ones she only ever saw when they  were together. Like they both had smiles reserved for the other.
She looked back at the green eyes that were looking at her, “I can tell.”
She stood in the middle of the woods, a few feet away from the camp entrance. She saw the figure approaching her. She reached for her pocket, getting ready.
“Cheese pizza with extra olives?”
She nodded, “yeah.”
“$11.90,” the delivery boy added.
She handed him the money, plus tip, considering he had to come into the middle of the woods for this.
She walked back into camp. Wondering why she was doing this. If she had been one of her siblings, she probably would've tried to sabotage the whole thing. Make sure that Percy and Annabeth never happen. But the way he talked about her? Like she was the center of the universe? She knew she could never compete with the daughter of Athena. His wisegirl.
“You got the pizza?”
She handed it to Percy as he set up the pink irises in a vase, “here,” she muttered, “there’s no change.”
“One pizza costs twenty dollars?” He questioned.
She shrugged, “inflation.” It was kinda depressing. The best revenge she could get was giving an eight dollars and 10 cents tip. She awkwardly played with the skirt of her dress, “I’ll go get Annabeth.”
She hurried to cabin six. She knocked on the door, lucky enough, the blonde opening it, “hey?”
“Annabeth!” she forced a smile, “Percy was looking for you, he wanted you to meet him by the strawberry fields.”
“Oh?”
“Seaweed Brain!” y/n heard the laugh from archery training. She turned around, catching a glimpse of the new couple. Her hand was in his as they walked. Her nose buried in his shoulder as she giggled. For a second, just a second, he looked back at the daughter of Aphrodite. He flashed her smile, wording, “I owe you.”
Yes, you do.
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reiderwriter · 10 months
Note
Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️
Ps love your writing 🖤
A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+
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Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.
You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.
Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.
You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.
You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.
It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.
When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.
“Who is this?”
It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.
You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”
“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”
“Okay, that was deserved.”
“Why are you calling Spencer?”
“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”
The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.
“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”
“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”
“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.
It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.
Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.
As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.
Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.
“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”
The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.
“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”
“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”
“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.
“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.
“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”
“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”
You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.
“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”
He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.
It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.
“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”
Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.
“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”
You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.
His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.
“I did go a bit insane, you know?”
His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.
“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.
“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.
He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.
And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.
You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.
After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.
Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.
Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.
But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.
Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.
You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.
It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.
“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.
A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.
He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.
“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.
Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.
It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.
You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.
Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.
He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.
It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.
It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.
Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.
You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.
His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.
His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.
He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.
With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.
Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.
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