#but i think you can gather some idea of why it’s stupid to hold this decision against rin

[jeanmoreaux]

rin destroyed her uterus? i've tried reading tpw but never finished, would you mind spoilering 👀

she did! it’s actually an aspect of the novel i really appreciate. sooooo here’s the spoilery content. after she starts at sinegard she gets her period and with that some really really painful cramps that basically take her out. however, her exams are just around the corner and she has to pass them with flying colors or the military academy will send her packing (can’t remember how many students are selected, just that at least one of the teachers has to claim you for their subject. otherwise the school will just drop the student like a hot potato). and rin ofc wants to stay at sinegard and she cannot really see how menstruating every month will benefit her in any way when she’s not planning to have children anyway. in a school full of men (she’s one of a handful of girls) and a male-dominated career (military), she see this function of her female body as a disadvantage that will hold her back. so she talks with the medical staff at sinegard and one offers her a concoction that will destroy her womb but leave her period free. and she chooses to drink the medicine and spend a couple of days in utter pain while one of her organs is basically killed off.

some people choose to take this decision as a basis of their moral judgment of rin, especially in connection to info that is later revealed ((under the cut some major spoilers that kinda relate back to this))

we, and rin herself, later learn that, like altan, she’s speerly. with rin infertile snd altan dead by the end of book one, the speerlies as an ethnicity will noe die out for real. rin never regrets her decision though. she wouldn’t have changed it even if she’d known at the time that she was speerly.

some people in the fandom really have an issue with her decision to destroy her uterus to get rid of periods, but in the context of her character and the society she navigates in it makes perfect sense. they take it as her denying her womanhood when it’s simply not about that. there’s A Lot behind her decision to free herself of menstruation (including her plans to stay childless) that people tend to ignore

also, these same people like to take this circumstance to paint rin as uncaring and anti-feminist and selfish and self-absorbed and morally corrupt/bad, when it is clearly super questionable to attach any moral judgment to the choices a woman makes about her own body…….

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: your best friend brags complains that he can't get laid due to his huge dick posing a threat to random girls at parties, so you offer to fix his little big problem pairing: soobin x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: explicit language, big dick soobin (canon event), size kink, foreplay, eating out, blowjob, hugging, fingering, size training, creampie, consensual intercourse, kissing, aftercare, allusions to death in a sexual context, lowkey possessive soobin at the end author's note: the killa is on my mind 24/7 and im down bad for soobin 25/8 🥵 so i had to get it out of my system somehow 🤷 word count: 2k

“You’re kidding, right?” you ask your best friend when he makes a rather shocking confession as the two of you are sitting in his bedroom after one of your usual anime marathons.

“I wish I was. But I would never lie to you,” Soobin responds truthfully. His big moist eyes look a 100% genuine but it still sounds so...bizarre.

“Let me get this straight…Every time you try to hook up with a girl at one of those parties Yeonjun keep dragging you to, you go to a room, eat them out like the generous, selfless guy you are, and then after you take off your pants, they get scared by your gigantic cock and refuse to have sex, running away in horror?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain for the past 10 minutes, yeah,” Soobin confirms with a very adorable pout on his stupid face.

You shake your head in utter disbelief.

“I’m sorry but this is just ridiculous. Any girl would be happy to hook up with a guy that has a huge dick.”

“Well, I guess not any girl ‘cause this shit has happened three times already and I’m at my limit. Why can’t I just get laid?” Soobin bemoans his tragic destiny.

“No, I don’t get it. The least they could do is give you a quickie or something to return the favour. It’s so rude to just sprint away. I can’t believe your cock is that terrifying.”

“Ugh, please stop saying that. It’s so embarrassing,” Soobin covers his face behind his big hands. Hold on a minute…

“If what you’re saying is true, then I think it’s pretty hot. Those girls are surely missing out.”

“Or maybe they’re just looking after themselves. Like…I’m not mad at them for being spooked out, I just wish I could finally get some, you know?” Soobin sighs.

“Death by dick does seem appealing,” you shrug.

“Y/N!” he exclaims.

“Listen, what if I make you an offer? You prove to me that you weren’t exaggerating about your size and I promise I won’t run away and will take care of your…frustrations.”

“Are you seriously suggesting this?” Soobin freaks out. “This could ruin our friendship.”

“I won’t be weird about it, I swear. What do you say?”

“Fuck it. I’m so horny that this actually sounds like a good idea,” Soobin admits. “Can I eat you out first?”

“Erm, if you insist,” you reply, suddenly feeling nervous.

“I just wanna take care of you, make sure you’re all nice and wet for me,” Soobin explains patiently.

“You really don’t have to,” you reassure him.

“I know but it’d be awkward for me to just whip it out. Please?”

“Oh…okay,” you really can’t imagine saying no when he’s asking you so sweetly. God, what did you get yourself into?

Soobin takes off your leggings and panties in one swift movement and pushes you down gently on the bed so you are in a lying position. He spreads your thighs apart and looks at your pussy, already glistening with wetness caused by the conversation you’ve been having. Soobin smirks but doesn’t say anything about it. You’re grateful for that as he dives in, licking and kissing all over you. Fucking hell, if his tongue is capable of making you feel this way, you are slightly unnerved to find out what his cock can achieve. But unlike those girls at the parties, you are determined to never run away from your best friend.

Soon enough, you reach your high, overwhelmed by Soobin’s insane tongue movements and his big hands gripping your thighs. You need a few moments to gather your thoughts and when you are finally able to speak, those are the first words that leave your mouth:

“I think they fleed because you eat pussy like a starved animal. Seriously, what the hell was that?”

Soobin chuckles nervously and runs his fingers through his black hair, pushing it back and exposing his forehead for a bit.

“Trust me, it’s not that.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him even though you are fairly certain he’s telling the truth. Your best friend has never lied to you, so why start now?

Soobin takes off his pants, his hands are shaking and you immediately feel bad. You put your hand on his in an attempt to calm him down.

“Hey, you don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I do want this, but after so many failed attempts, I’m so anxious…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Soobin,” you insist and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

His skin complexion looks slightly less pale and your words seem to give him the confidence he so desperately needs. Moment of truth. Soobin takes off his boxers and…Oh damn, he was not exaggerating. He’s not just big, he’s so huge a part of you wonders how is it humanly possible to carry such a weapon around and maintain the gentle, humble composure with which Soobin carries himself.

“You’re not running yet,” he jokes.

“Soob?”

“Y-yeah?” his voice cracks, he is obviously terrified of what you’re going to say.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I finally get why these girls ran away.”

“Oh,” he sounds a little dejected, as if already expecting you to go back on your offer.

“But! That’s not gonna stop me. Just tell me what you want first and I’ll try my best to make you happy.”

“Huh?” Soobin is too flustered to process your words.

“My hands, my mouth, or my pussy, what do you want first?”

“You mean…you’re willing to give me all of them?” he blinks in shock.

This poor, precious boy. Did he really face disappointment so many times that he is now looking a gift horse in the mouth with such uncertainty?

“Just pick, Soobie, I promise I’ll give you anything you need.”

“Um…can you suck me off? Please?”

Gosh, he’s so adorable you want to eat him.

You nod a little too enthusiastically and go down on your knees, taking as much of his cock as you can. It’s a tight fit but what you can’t put inside your mouth you make up for by wrapping your hands around him. You suck and lick and touch him, eager to give him as much pleasure as he did you. Your beloved best friend has obviously been frustrated for a while now because it doesn’t take him long to cum inside your mouth. There is so much you can’t manage to swallow it all despite your valiant efforts and you see some of it falling down your cheeks. You wipe it off with a finger, sticking it into your mouth, grinning widely at Soobin.

“Fuck, you’re incredible. What…how…are you okay?”

He presses his big palm against your cheek and it takes a lot of self-control for you to not melt right there and then.

“I’m great. Did…did it feel good for you?” you ask sheepishly.

You’re not particularly confident about your skills but you genuinely did your best for him.

“Are you crazy? It felt insanely good,” Soobin takes your hand, lifting you up and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“I’m glad,” you respond, feeling safer and warmer than ever before in your life.

“Do…you still want to…you know?” Soobin asks.

“If you’re asking whether you can put your cock inside my pussy, then yeah, go for it. As long as it’s something you want, of course.”

You keep reminding him to only do things he’s completely okay with, because you would hate to put your best friend in a situation he doesn’t enjoy just because of your greed.

“I want you so bad, you have no idea. But I think I’ll need to stretch you out a bit, yeah?”

“O-okay,” you quickly agree and in no time, Soobin’s long fingers are inside of your pussy, going deeper than your own have ever been and making you feel things you never even dreamed about.

“How does it feel?” Soobin asks in concern.

“Heavenly,” you admit and just as you’re about to reach your second orgasm, Soobin’s fingers leave you.

“N-no, why’d you do that?” you whine frustratedly.

“Wanna feel you come around my cock.”

As it turns out, you'd like this just as much so you quickly forgive him for ruining your orgasm.

“I think I have a condom in my-“ Soobin starts but you cut him off.

“I’m taking a pill. And I believe we’re both clean, so…”

“You gon’ let me fuck you raw?” Soobin inquires, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Yeah, I trust you,” you reply with conviction.

“You’re a dream,” Soobin chuckles and nudges the head of his cock against your moist entrance. You brace yourself for some level of discomfort and are surprised that it doesn’t come right away. Soobin takes his sweet time getting inside you, making sure you’re okay.

“Fuck, Soob, you're so big,” you moan, already feeling overstimulated.

“This is just the tip, baby,” he explains shyly, which makes you lose your mind.

Soobin goes deeper very slowly, making you feel every inch, stretching you out bit by bit.

“How much more?” you ask somewhat impatiently.

“Just a little bit. Can’t help it that your pussy is so tiny,” he teases you.

“Not my fault your dick is so gigantic,” you bite right back.

“I promise, I'll try my best not to split you in half,” Soobin jokes, which does little to ease your worries, but at the same time only makes you wetter.

“Keep talking to me,” you plead for him.

“Does it hurt?” he wants to know, as he keeps entering you further.

“It’s a good kind of hurt,” you explain, wincing slightly.

Once you’ve gotten used to it, you signal to Soobin that he can start moving and he does just that, fucking into you with an impressive speed. You try to meet him halfway, lifting your hips up for him, melting into one.

“You’re taking it so well, my darling best friend,” Soobin praises you relentlessly.

“Anything for you, Soobie,” you cry out in sweet bliss.

“I’m close,” Soobin confesses soon enough.

“Fill me up,” you beg him, almost in a daze, deeply affected by his overpowering presence.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice and spills his seed inside of you. It feels so good that you cum with him, walls clenching around his enormous dick. Soobin leans down to kiss you, further blurring the lines between friendship and…whatever this is.

Then, he takes his cock out and you realize something far more terrifying than his intimidating size - you are falling in love with your best friend.

Soobin quickly brings a towel and a bottle of water, taking care of you like no one else before. You want to cry, touched by his sweetness and falling even further.

“How do you feel?” Soobin brushes a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I feel…like I'm on another planet,” you confess shakily.

Soobin chuckles, visibly relieved to hear that.

“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, enveloping you in a hug. His large frame towers over you and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel slightly threatened. But this is Soobin, and even though he just fucked your brains out, you feel completely safe and protected. Safe enough to be honest about how you feel.

“I know I promised not to be weird about it but…I don’t think I can go back to being friends.”

Soobin pales for a moment, scared of losing you.

“Why not?” he blinks, barely restraining his tears.

“I wanna belong to you,” you try to ease his worries by openly saying what your heart and soul desire.

“Oh…But baby, you already do,” Soobin suddenly beams with excitement. “And I belong to you, too.”

“I think you killed me a little,” you laugh. “Killed my pussy with your big cock and ruined me for other men.”

Soobin raises an eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume that I’d let other men near your pussy. You’re all mine now.”

The End

[happy74827]

Butterflies

[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.

WC: 717

Category: Fluff

For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)

『••✎••』

It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.

You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.

The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.

You told him no. You just wanted to go home.

You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.

"Miss?"

"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.

But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.

Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever gentle.

"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.

"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."

You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."

"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"

"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."

"Don't talk about the puppy like that."

"So you did have him stalk me!"

"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."

"Harvey, you’re such—"

You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.

In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.

When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.

They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."

And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.

Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."

Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"

He was right.

Goddamnit, he was right.

And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.

Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.

The butterflies seemed to agree.

[loveydovey-leviathan]

(for your recent post)

hmmm how about mal and reader were having an argument or sumn then he's like " hmph let's not talk to each other for now >:( " so you grant him some space/or silent treatment and mal is like dramatically waiting for u to talk to him for HOURS in his room just brooding there and when he realize you're still ignoring him, he's like a pathetic sad wet cat needy for ur attention now bcs he couldn't stand being apart from u.

im sorry for the basic ass idea lol 😭 im just a sucker for silent treatment scenarios like this

malleus x gn! reader

a/n: written as romantic -> FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, IM A SUCKER FOR THESE TOO 😔😔 hope i did this justice

.

one of the many things malleus adores about you is your stubbornness. the way you don't back down against what you think is wrong is something that will always set him ablaze with admiration for you.

though he doesn't quite like it when that pride is directed at him.

he's realizing this now when scornful words are spat between the two of you in the living room of ramshackle. clouds and lighting are beginning to gather as a response to his irritation and annoyance. he doesn't even know what this silly argument was even about or why it started in the first place, and unfortunately, malleus can be just as stubborn as can be.

"since you insist on being childish, i think it's best for us to not talk for a while," he isn't even looking at you as he says this, so when he disappears into pretty green firelights, he misses the hurt expression on your face as he leaves.

this is stupid, you think, but you bite your lip in worry as you walk upstairs and lay in bed, grim beside you snoring away. you said things you didn't mean so perhaps it's best to give him space, though how long that will go on is unknown to you since your lovely dragon is a fae with a rather skewed perception of time... whatever, he knows where to find you as soon as he decides he's comfortable enough to talk this out.

unbeknownst to you, malleus is now brooding in his room, lying face down on his pillow. the clouds around nrc have gotten worse, static brushing against the air as he waits for a phone call from you. preferably a sincere apology since he obviously deserves it after the things you've said.

...

well, he supposes it wasn't entirely your fault. he uttered words all to anger you as you did him, though none of them were true. you weren't childish, the opposite in fact-- having to take care of that first-year duo and that cat you're always hanging out with, taking precious time away when you could be stroking his hair and kissing his hands and petting his horns. as you do.

that's another thing he likes about you. even if you don't spend as much time together as he'd like, what you do to him is more than enough to compensate. you know he likes being kissed on the neck, you know he loves it when you take of his gloves and hold his hands, you know he loves when you lightly blow on his ear. you always look so happy when you do it too-- like seeing him smile makes you-

wait, isn't he supposed to be angry at you? he humphs and pouts when he realizes you still haven't called. he turns his head, eyebrows crossed and he stares at the phone on his desk. the only reason he learned how to use a phone was so you could contact him and send him texts and "memes" like you do with the rest of your friends.

he considers going to you himself but immediately shoves the idea away. he's still mad at you after all.

...

...

...

...

the clouds start pouring rain.

it isn't even the raging, storming kind-- the ones with howling winds and thunderous claps of lightning that illuminate the very sky. it's sad and cold that heavily drops on your already straining roof. your dampened mood worsens and you decide to get out of bed and make a hot drink to help you sleep.

you briefly glance at the alarm on your bedside table and see that it's 2:31 a.m., way too early to do anything at all.

just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear 3 heavy knocks at the front door. any normal person would panic and call a friend for help, but your friends ace are usually the ones getting kicked out, so you figure something similar happened.

imagine your surprise when you see your boyfriend in all his 202 cm glory. his hair sticks to his face in an unfairly handsome way considering he's absolutely soaked, and somehow the look accentuates the pretty green hue of his eyes that have only ever looked at you like you were everything and more, even when he's angry at you.

...did he walk here?

you continue staring at him for a while and your realize that while your lover is incredibly beautiful- so much so the word beautiful could never begin to describe him- he is also very. pathetic. if only people knew how much of a wet cat he was. he even bumps his nose against yours as an act of affection sometimes.

and that fact is ever prominent right now. his arms are crosses and his lips are jutted in a cute pout, refusing to say a word.

"..."

"..."

"..."

you don't know what to do exactly, considering there isn't a manual for 'what to do when your draconic boyfriend stands outside your front door in the soaking rain while he remains completely silent', so you slowly turn and walk through ramshackle's living room and into your dainty little kitchen.

heavy footsteps follow close behind you, followed by a light thud of a closing door and the muffling of the rain. malleus continues to follow you when you boil enough water for two, when you take out your tea bags (gifted by kalim) and seep it into the water. you take the occasional glance here and there, wondering if you should speak before ultimately deciding against it. maybe he doesn't want to talk right now.

he sits closely next to you- so close your knees touch when you rest yourself on one of the seats against the table. your fingertips briefly touch when you pass him the newly brewed tea and it's almost like he wants to reach out to hold your hand, but he pulls away at the last second.

from there, you sit in silence. the heat of the mug spreads from your cold fingertips and you warm up as you drink your tea. already, your becoming tired. you look at mal once more and he still has that adorable pout on his face, but his eyebrows aren't as furrowed as before. usually, you'd gladly offer a cuddle during a rainy night, but tonight's been strange.

so when you try to leave your seat, a hand suddenly stops you. it's the first time he's looked you in the eyes the entire night and good god it's cute, lame and pitiful all at the same time. truly, a stray kitty in a box out in the rain begging for attention. his eyes look up at you in the saddest way possible and you swear you see a wet sheen-- and that damn pout that's going to be the fucking death of you one day is still there.

"i'm sorry," he mutters, and he shifts from one hand holding yours to two. "i can't stand being apart from you." the apology is blunt, honest and sincere, just like him.

you gently lift the hand he wasn't holding to his cheek and he nuzzles into it, closing his eyes as he enjoys your petting. something deep rumbles in his chest and you realize he's purring again.

"m' sorry too, mal. shouldn't have said what i said."

almost immediately, the heavy rain lessens before quickly coming to a stop. there's a smile on his face and the all-too-familiar, tell-tale blush on his cheeks. you place your finger under his chin and tilt his head before kissing him softly. he's dormant and still, like he's afraid of breaking this moment, but he tightens his grip on your hand like he's afraid you'll leave.

malleus chases your lips in hopes for more when you pull away all too soon. he's staring at you with a look as sweet and delicate as spun sugar.

"let's go to bed, mal."

he chuckles like he always does. "if you insist, my love." like he wasn't waiting, hoping you ask him.

[eph3merall]

there's toxic!chris.. but what about toxic!matt ?

this was so stupid. matt was such a fucking bitch! sure, yeah, you know you aren't the only girl he's fucking. but would it kill him to clean up after himself sometimes? you're sitting on the edge of matt's tidied bed—actively ignoring the red lace bra and tropical smelling perfume bottle you found laying around his floor.

he's stalking out of the shower with damp hair, a pair of low hanging sweatpants and a black tank, with his eyes already roaming over you. immediately he can tell something is wrong and he isn't sure if he wants to even pester you about it, knowing he probably won't even get an answer.

"so, like.. you okay?" are the first words you hear from matt as he shifts around to get comfortable on his bed. he rests his head back against his headboard, a pillow supporting his lower back as he crosses his arms across his chest. your back is to him, and you don't answer.

right. he should've seen this coming. just because you're silent at first doesn't make him stop though, because oddly enough the idea of you being upset (you, his favorite hoe) has his mind reeling and stomach churning uncomfortably so he tried to get you to open up.

he's putting both his hands up when you turn around and snap at him, all annoyed. "god, matt, do you ever know when to leave something alone? obviously i'm fine so why can't you just shut the fuck up?!" he hates to admit how beautiful you look and sound right now, brows furrowed in exasperation and lips parted, screwed into a scowl.

"no, y'know what, i'm leaving." he was too busy staring at your lips and your chest that he didn't hear the words leave your mouth for a second before you're suddenly getting up and gathering some of your belongings. matt is up in a second to wrestle you to face him, hands on your shoulders and shaking furiously.

"seriously, what the fuck is wrong? you haven't ever acted like this, like, ever." you're ignoring him, because he was such a douche. yeah, you get that you aren't special to him but sometimes he really was a fucking bitch. call it jealousy.. you weren't dealing with it tonight. "matt— leave me alone." white hot tears are already springing into your eyes out of anger as well, and having matt see you cry seemed embarrassing enough that it encouraged you to twist and squirm yourself from his grasp.

he doesn't get it until he sees your eyes water, and he's confused nonetheless. does he act though? yeah, because he wasn't thinking. his arms are around you in a second, effectively spinning the smaller girl in his arms to his chest. a ringed hand is cradling the back of your head, tangling into strands of hair.

"what's wrong, huh?" he's mumbling into your head and holding you a little too tight for comfort. but matt didn't want you to leave. so when he felt your body go lax in his arms he loosens up a little, enough so to tug you towards his bed where he lets you lay your head on his chest.

he doesn't exactly expect an answer, and he's not surprised when he doesn't get one. his grip is always firm, as if making you sure you don't somehow get up. because oddly enough, he wants you here. not even to fuck, he just wants you like this—cheek pressed against the material of his black tank and your body on top of his.

you're pissed off still. it's mainly the reason you're giving matt the whole silent treatment shit, even if you know it's a little unfair. he's told you multiple times you aren't the only girl he fucks, that you aren't special in any way. (you are though, he thinks you're special but won't ever tell you) you don't get why this is upsetting you, it's not like you seriously have feelings for him, right?

sighh toxic!matt is such a bitch n he makes me wanna punch something but he's one of my favs

not proofread

more smut coming soon !! idk when maybe when i get ideas and finally finish my masterlist ....

—

©eph3merall 2024

[erwinsvow]

when rafe meets you for the first time, he feels something he’s never felt before. you’re surrounded by your pogue friends and his stupid sister, laughing at a joke jj says, pushing pope’s arm gently, making a face at kie. he stares, lost in his own mind, wondering what the hell they’re saying to make you laugh like that, make you smile like that. 

he’s leering, he knows—wishing he could pull his gaze away but having more trouble doing so than he expected. you smile all pretty at your friends, lips pink and glossy, shining in the sun enough that he can see from where’s sitting. a beer rests in his hand, droplets of condensation gathering on his fingers. he can’t drink though, he’s too distracted. 

the way you twist your hair up and clip it with something silver. the sweat gathering on your neck, along your hairline, how you wipe it with the back of your hand. one of the boys—he can’t tell which one, and he’s glad, otherwise he’d probably go over there and start throwing punches—offers you a hand to guide you into the water, presumably to cool off. 

you shake your head to say no, and sweetly is the only word he can think of to describe how you do it. to describe you, everything about you—it’s so fucking sweet, he can taste it from over here. some of the others go into the water. you stay sprawled out on your beach chair, book resting on your stomach. you fiddle with the straps of your bikini top, yellow—that’s all he can make out—before you stand up, settling the book on the chair and walking towards him. 

he’s under the shade of the little bar on the beach, watching shamelessly, thinking he should look away now that you’re walking over, at least try to play it cool. he doesn’t. he takes a long sip of his beer, putting it down with a slam, harder than he intended.

as soon as you enter the cool shade, you sigh with relief. you take out the clip and let your hair fall down how it was, strands sticking to your neck where he wishes he could lick it off. you’re not two feet from him now, can’t really ignore how he’s staring at you either. 

“can i get a lemonade, please?” you ask the bartender politely, glancing over quickly at rafe. he’s still looking, making you flush and feel even hotter all over. you turn away within a few seconds.

“spiked?” the man behind the counter asks. rafe does move his gaze, finally, to stare at the guy—trying to make sure he’s not making you feel uncomfortable. 

you shake your head and the bartender turns back to get your drink. your eyes keep wandering back to rafe—big, bad, evil rafe. the one your friends always talk about. he’s cruel, they say, violent and angry and treats them badly. just for the principle of the thing, you should hate him. so why can’t you stop your eyes from flitting back to him every few seconds?

“that’s a good idea,” rafe starts. he’s quiet, just so the two of you can hear him, but you have to lean in further. the gap is shortened to just a foot now.

“hm?” you question innocently, not hearing exactly what he said. you’re surprised he’s even talking to you. 

“s’good idea, not to get it spiked. with this sun, you’ll get sick an' tired.”

“but you’re drinking,” you comment, gesturing to the beer in his hand. it looks almost empty.

“i’m not a fucking lightweight, though, that’s the difference.” he turns to see the bartender, chopping up a lemon for your drink. he thinks he has another minute, maybe two, with you.

“how d’you figure that? you don’t even know me.”

“you can just tell.”

“yeah?”

“yeah, kid.” he holds eye contact for a second too long, and you turn away smiling, face feeling so hot, like you’ve been basking in the sun for hours. rafe thinks mission accomplished for a second, smirking, but it dissipates quickly—your drink is ready and he sees jj walking up to where you are.

“can i get a straw?” you ask again, smiling all friendly at the bartender. he grabs you one from behind the counter and peels the wrapper for you.

“kie’s not gonna like that,” jj says, smiling down at you. you look at rafe though, which makes his heart thud in his chest. he likes that, a lot, more than he should.

“well it’ll just be our little secret, then,” you say, thanking the bartender and then taking a sip of the cold drink. 

“you ready?” jj asks, ignoring the entire situation in front of him. 

“yeah, just need to pay-”

“i got it, kid,” rafe says, grabbing his wallet before you can move. you look at him curiously for a second, eyes big, pretty smile shining again. 

“wow, how generous from the millionaire. c’mon,” jj says, and you get up but you don’t want to.

“thanks, rafe,” you say, even sweeter than before. he enjoys how your name rolls off his tongue, wishes he could hear you say it again. 

“no problem,” he says quietly. jj puts his arm around your waist to guide you away, which would normally be enough to warrant at least a single punch, but you look back once, then twice, sneaking a glance back at rafe, still smiling big, bringing the straw to your mouth and sipping. “i’ll be seeing you around," he says, under his breath, just to himself.

[effemar]

Sorry for talking about Cornelius Hickey from hit series AMC’s The Terror (2018) again but I think it’s really overlooked how Hickey serves an additional narrative purpose in his existence as a metatextual threat.

Hickey in many ways is there to be an ideological contrast to the “good” characters in the show in a way that’s really interesting. All through the series there’s this conflict between morality and survival, or as Hickey puts it, “your morals and your practicals.” Assisted suicide, survival cannibalism, et cetera. But the point is, Hickey has already resolved that internal conflict. For a lot of the other characters, this is perhaps the first time they’ve been in a genuine survival situation, where they’ve had to confront what they’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of survival. But Hickey has already been there. From before they even set sail, the stakes have been life and death. He was willing to kill someone to be on this boat. Everything else is small potatoes. As he says to Billy in one of his first crucial scenes, “there are worse things than being lashed.”

Hickey is, in many ways, perfectly suited to the landscape they find themselves in. Other characters want to get back to England. Hickey wanted to get away from England. The principles that other people hold, relics from their homeland, are what Hickey was trying to escape. And he makes a point of calling these principles into question. What’s the difference, really, between a dog and any other creature you kill for food? What makes a lieutenant better than a caulker’s mate? It’s all in your head.

And it’s not just that he resents them, though he does. He actively thinks they’re dumb! He sees principles as a weakness in other people. It’s why he’s surprised when Mr. Goodsir sees through his attempt to gather information about Silna. He thinks ‘generous’ is a synonym for ‘stupid’. It’s why he’s amused when Irving recommends watercolors, when Billy tells him he’s going to be better and not have sex with him anymore. It’s silly to him.

And to some degree he's right. We, as a modern audience, snort when Irving tells Hickey he should stop being gay and do “climbing exercises” instead. The things that seem so morally relevant and important to them are completely arbitrary. The thing is, Hickey sees killing people the same way. Why is it okay to kill people in some circumstances and not others? Tozer shot Morfin, and it was okay then! Why is it only bad when he does it? When he’s about to be hanged, and Crozier makes a point to say he caused the deaths of women and children, and an officer, Hickey ROLLS HIS EYES. Because it doesn’t make a difference to him.

And this concept is emphasized very clearly by the plot, not just Hickey. When Hickey kidnaps Silna, we as an audience know Crozier was about to do essentially the same thing. “Bring her in for questioning” is politer than “kidnap”, but it’s not like it makes a difference to her. It’s just the principle of the thing.

To be clear, I don't think this makes Hickey himself secretly right or anything. Because despite what he tells himself, he does have morals. He isn't the free, enlightened being he thinks he is, who has shrugged off the burden of England's social mores. He carries those ideas with him. He does the same thing, fundamentally, as the people he derides. The English idea of the Arctic as a place to be explored and conquered, a tabula rasa where he can start anew, free of rules and morals, is an inaccurate one. It has consequences the same as any other place, and is subject to principles, even if they're not ones he recognizes. He completely disregards the Netsilik people as a source of help not only for his own selfish reasons, but because I think he truly subscribes to the English belief in their "savagery".

He has taken an idea and mistaken it for the truth. And that belief in his own lack of blind spots, the belief that he alone is able to see the world as it really is, is ultimately his downfall. It doesn't occur to him that the Tuunbaq is anything but a sophisticated tool, let alone something that has rules and principles beyond his comprehension. It doesn't occur to him that there might be consequences for his actions beyond the immediate. It doesn't occur to him that Mr. Goodsir would choose his principles over his own life, would choose to do something that has an impact beyond himself. For Hickey, those things are unimaginable.

Anyway character of all time. Monster that eats souls, rat king extraordinaire, guy with delusions of godhood, living manifestation of hubris. Cornelius Hickey you will ALWAYS be famous.

[gtgbabie0]

Hello!! I requested the First Kiss story and I cannot emphasize how much I absolutely loved it 😭♡ It was so soft and fluffy omg </3

Another idea I had was Leon catching you wearing one of his clothes for the first time and he thinks it fits you perfectly even tho it's oversized or something like that :00

Tysm and have a good day/night!! <33

Is that mine?

{Leon’s first time seeing you wearing his clothes}

SOBBING!! thank you for requesting again my love!! 💕💕

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Leon Kennedy doesn’t hate without reason, and a good reason at that, it’s safe to say that he hates working late, and he hates being away from you, but when he walks into the house to be met with you in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts, well, he can practically feel the hatred leave his body.

It might just be his new favourite sight, the way his shirt hangs on against your body, how the fabric drapes off your shoulder ever so slightly, he thinks he might just lose it completely.

“You’re finally home!” Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you pull him into you, his head resting against the crook of your neck.

It’s such a small thing, but the thought of you picking out one of his shirts and putting it on just makes something inside him tingle, and it renders him completely speechless.

“I cooked up some dinner, there’s leftovers in the fridge whenever you’re ready” You let him know with the sweetest tone he’s ever heard and surely you’ve got to know what you’re doing.

Your hands gently cup his face and your thumb graze against his cheek, and hum softly at the feeling of his slight stubble, and before you can skip off into the kitchen, his hands grab for your hips pulling you back into his arms.

“Is that mine?” A stupid question, he obviously knows it’s his, it’s so very clearly his.

You look up at him, “Oh, yeah I missed you today so I just...” You trail off your hands motioning to his shirt you’re wearing, and he can’t help the smirk that splays across his lips.

His hands grasp at your sides, dipping under the shirt as he pulls you impossibly closer, and his heart skips a beat at the idea of you missing him, rummaging through his draws for a shirt, his shirt.

You giggle as his hands run over your belly then to your back, gentle fingers grazing along your naked skin, as he leaves soft kisses against your jaw down to your neck.

“You should’ve called me sweetness, I would’ve left work early” he whispers into your neck, god he’d missed you so much.

Your fingers weave through his hair as he continues to pepper your soft skin with his warm kisses, “I can’t do that Leon, your work is important” you tell him feeling a little breathless at his loving actions.

“Not as important as you are angel” You go giddy at his words.

His eyes flicker over your body for the fifth time and there’s an odd sense of pride that settles in his chest, you’re wearing his shirt, and he just can’t seem to shake the feeling, and maybe that’s why his hands are still roaming your body.

“You look so fucking good in my clothes, you should wear them more often” he smiles as he nuzzles further into your neck, and you chuckle hearing his stomach grumble in protest, he was hungry.

You try to push away from him but it’s pointless as he just holds you tighter, “Come on, you need to eat baby” you giggle as you guide him to the kitchen with him practically glued to your side.

He stands behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder whilst you dish up his dinner, “Leon, what’s going on you with?” You chuckle as his lips trail down your neck lingering on the sensitive parts, and you squirm at the soft feeling.

“Nothings wrong, I just wanna be close” he mumbles against your skin, “I like it when you wear my clothes” he adds, just above a whisper.

You giggle as you awkwardly move to the table to set his plate down, “Yeah I gathered that baby” you smile as he sits down on a chair, and before you even have time to turn around to get him a drink his hands are already grasping at your hips.

“Come sit” he says patting his thigh with a hopeful look in his eyes, “We didn’t get to have dinner together” he looks up at you with a smile and you don’t miss the almost playful look that flashes through his eyes.

“I’m not sitting on your lap while you eat Leon” you chuckle feeling a little bad at the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, “I’ll sit next to you, just let me get you a drink,” you tell him, brushing his fringe from his eyes and he nods with a grateful smile.

You get him a drink before taking a seat next to him and his hand immediately rests on your thigh as if out of instinct, “You already ate right?” He asks, and you nod with a smile watching as he eats, and you both sit there talking about your days, with his hand soothing against your thigh, and he doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, you take a mental note to wear his shirts more often.

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[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt 5

Am I crazy? Seriously, am I the kind of person who stalks their ex-boyfriend on Twitter, spots a mutual friend in the background of a drunk selfie, then calls that friend to get the address so I can show up and kill my ex?

I press the elevator button, heading up to the penthouse. As the elevator speeds past the lower floors, my heart pounds in my chest. Mumbles leave my mouth as I hold back my nausea, feeling like I’m going to barf in this plant. What luxury apartment complex has a plant in the elevator?

Why didn’t I come up with a plan sooner? The adrenaline that fueled my initial anger is already beginning to dwindle. I let out a soft sigh, closing my eyes for a moment to concentrate. I can’t let him do this to me anymore. I'm exhausted by the mind games, the constant psychological warfare.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal a lavish hallway. I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves. I haven't been to Todoroki’s apartment before, which makes this whole situation even more nerve-racking. The empty hallway is intimidating, each step I take echoing softly. Despite the knots in my stomach, I know I can't turn back now. This is my only chance to reclaim my sense of self, to finally break free from the cycle of manipulation and pain.

I open the front door and slip off my outside shoes, replacing them with an appropriate indoor pair from my bag. The living room is full with a combination of heroes and groupies, their faces illuminated by the shifting colors of several strobe lights. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of spilled beer.

The music vibrates the floor below me, suddenly feeling bad for his downstairs neighbors. A steady beat reverberates through my chest as I watch the crowd for a moment, trying to spot a familiar face. Bodies grind in sync on the dance floor, a group is gathered near the kitchen, their conversations unheard thanks to the music. On the far side of the room, an old classmate is standing next to the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with practiced ease.

“Can you make me a drink Sero?” my voice surprises him clearly as he jumps and knocks a few plastic cups over, causing them to spill out over the floor. The much taller man turns around with a drunken smile spreading across his face, liquor lingers on his breath as he picks me up and spins me around in a circle.

“I didn’t know they let you outside anymore” Sero laughed as he placed me back down onto the floor. His tape quickly extending out towards several bottles, helping him create some drink concoction. An aquamarine beverage is extended out to me as I hear a high pitched squeal in my ear.

Mina latched onto me before I can process what’s happening. Her combined “oh my gods” and complaints about my outfit are tossed in between each other like an overstuffed compliment sandwich.

“I’m excited to see you too Mimi.” I offer her a small hug back as I question Sero.

“What is this?”

“Plus Ultra Punch.”

“Of course it is.” my eyes roll as I down my drink. Mina squeezing my shoulders excitedly while Sero quickly made another.

“Be careful, these are strong.” He warns before turning around to help another nonpaying client.

I sip my drink, the alcohol burning a fiery path down my throat. The potent mix of liquor and fruitiness lingers on my tongue. As I savor the sensation, I glance over at Mina, who’s excitedly tapping away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen's glow.

"Do you know where Bakugou is?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looks up, concern flashing in her eyes. "Do you think that’s a good idea?" she counters, her hand gripping my jacket. Her gaze darts nervously around the room, scanning the crowd.

"Who is he with?" My voice wavers slightly, a defeated breath escaping my lungs. I brace myself for the answer. Mina sighs, rolling her eyes at my stupidity before pointing towards the balcony.

"She's just some groupie. They just met tonight. I—" Her voice fades into music as I weave my way through the dance floor. Liquid courage propels me forward until I reach the balcony door, my hand poised to turn the knob.

Before I can open it, a strong hand catches mine. I turn to see Kirishima, his expression serious as he gently but firmly pulls me closer to his chest. His eyes, usually so warm, are full of concern.

"You don't want to do this," he says, his voice low and pleading.

"Do what, Eijiro?" I snap, frustration bubbling to the surface.

"You don't want to see him tonight," he insists, his grip tightening slightly.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who begged me to see him in the first place. So, surprise." I wave my hands in a mock cheer, but his expression remains stern. Confusion must be written all over my face.

"He's drunk.” Kirishima explains, his voice edged with frustration.

Correction: he's being a horndog.

"I already know that," I respond, trying to keep my cool.

"No. He's first-semester drunk.”

Correction: He’s being a horndog.

Correction: He's being a mean lil fucker.

The weight of his words sinks in, a sharp reminder of a side of Bakugou I've rarely seen. Usually, alcohol makes him overly affectionate, but when he's in a bad place, everyone allows him to act like an absolute jerk.

"Don't make me beg, Eijiro. I need to do this. I can't go home now," I plead, my voice cracking with desperation. My eyes lock onto his.

Eijiro hesitates, scanning the room again before reluctantly releasing me. "Do you want me to go with you?" he offers, his voice softening with concern.

"Katsuki would never hurt me. My feelings? All the time. But I'm not in any danger with him." my pitch matches his as I offer a small smile.

I step back, turning towards the door. Kirishima's eyes follow me as I open it and step onto the balcony. The humid night air wraps around me, heavy and thick.

I can hear her giggle again, a sound that slices through me like a knife. I step over to the right-hand side, drawn by the flirtatious sounds. As I move closer, the scene comes into focus: the two of them sitting by the pool, her legs draped over his as she leans back, laughing.

The sight of them together feels like a betrayal, a sharp twist of the knife already lodged in my heart. Each giggle, each touch, is a reminder of how easily he disregards my feelings, of how little I seem to matter to him. The pain is overwhelming, a tidal wave of hurt and anger.

"Katsuki Bakugou!" I bark, my voice slicing through the air. His head snaps in my direction, eyes wide and frantic like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, he stiffens, standing unsteadily by the pool's edge as if he’s wondering if his drunken mind is playing tricks on him.

In his panic to stand, he accidentally shoves the poor woman beside him into the pool. Her screams are piercing for a brief moment before being abruptly silenced as she plunges underwater. Katsuki pays her no mind, his focus solely on me as he stomps over with a fury that radiates off him in waves. Her distressed whines are lost in the chaos of the moment, falling on deaf ears as he seizes my arm with a grip that is both desperate and furious.

His eyes, a mix of shock and confusion, rake over me as if he's searching for some sign of authenticity, as if I’m someone else using a transformation quirk. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, his fingers digging into my skin as if I’m going to disappear again.

"Katsuki, let go," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability behind his anger.

The night air feels thicker, almost suffocating, as we stand there, locked in a silent struggle. The woman's splashes and gasps barely register in our shared turmoil. Katsuki's grip tightens, his eyes searching mine for answers that I'm not sure I can give. The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, a look that leaves me feeling exposed and raw.

Before I can say anything, his lips crash onto mine, rough and urgent, his hands gliding over my exposed skin as slides his palms to both sides of my face. The intensity of his kiss takes my breath away, and I instinctively reach for his wrists, trying to pull away.

“Bakugou, I—” He cuts me off again, his lips capturing mine more forcefully. His tongue flicks across my lower lip, demanding entry. I deny his request, trying to pull away once more.

“You’re such a brat. Do you know that?” His voice is low, a dangerous rumble.

“Do you know how absolutely insane you make me? You have completely ruined me, woman.” His hands run down my spine and reach for the small of my back, pulling our bodies impossibly close. His soft lips leave a trail of peppery kisses all over my neck and face, each one sending shivers down my spine.

“I mean, fuck.” He pulls away, his eyes dark and intense. “I can’t think straight. When I’m on a mission, I’m wondering if you’re watching me on TV. When I’m on patrol, I stick to routes with the fastest response time to your office.” His hands drop from my face, the initial shock wearing off, allowing his real emotions to surface. His voice rises with every word, each syllable dripping with raw emotion. His hands pull away from my body.

“You left me. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You left me some shitty note on the bed and thought I wouldn’t notice your disappearance? Well, I did!”

My hands reach out to him, but he pushes them away, almost scoffing at the gesture. He steps back, creating a wider gap between us.

“I’m the one who left? You’re the one that’s been cheating on me! You don’t get to make me feel sorry for your dumb ass and then fuck someone else, dickhead!” My voice trembles with a mixture of hurt and anger.

His eyes widen, nostrils flaring as he stretches his arms wide, his voice booming for anyone to hear.

“Are you serious?” he paces back and forth, his agitation clear. “I would never disrespect you like that. I can’t even believe you would think that.”

I scoff, crossing my arms defensively. “Coming home late, pulling away from me, not showing up for our planned date nights and dinners, having to stay at the office until ungodly hours, or maybe worst of all, going MIA for days at a time and leaving me to worry you’re dead.”

The words hang between us, heavy and accusatory, each one a dagger in the already bleeding wounds of our relationship.

Bakugou pulls out his phone, his fingers angrily slamming onto the touchscreen with each tap. He brings it up to his ear, his voice a low, furious whisper as he speaks to someone on the other end. The conversation is brief and tense, ending abruptly as he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

Without a moment's hesitation, he stomps up to me, his eyes blazing with determination. He reaches for my hand, yanking me toward him with a force that takes my breath away. His grip is firm as he moves backward toward the door, dragging me along despite my attempts to plant my feet and resist.

"Katsuki, stop!" I plead, my voice wavering, but he pays no attention to my words. His expression is set in stone, his jaw clenched tightly.

Ignoring my protests, he leans down. With surprising ease, lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder. The world tilts as I find myself staring at the ground, my hands pounding against his back in a futile attempt to make him release me.

“Put me down, Katsuki!” I shout, my voice echoing through the night air. But the drunken man before me is beyond reason, his focus solely on getting us out of there.

As we move through the party, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations falter and heads turn to watch the spectacle unfolding before them. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, a mix of confusion and curiosity. People part instinctively, creating a pathway as Bakugou strides purposefully toward the exit, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"What the hell, Bakugou?" someone calls out, but he doesn't respond. His steps remain steady, his hand resting on the top of my ass. I catch glimpses of familiar faces, their expressions a blend of shock and concern, but no one dares to intervene.

The pulsating music and flashing lights of the party become a distant background noise as we finally make it outside. Bakugou's pace quickens as he heads toward the parking lot, and there, waiting under a streetlamp, is Izuku's car.

Bakugou finally sets me down, his grip momentarily loosening as he fumbles for his phone again. I take a deep breath, my heart still racing from the chaotic journey through the party. The car's headlights flicker to life, illuminating the scene as Izuku steps out, his face a mask of concern and confusion.

"What's going on?" Izuku asks, his eyes darting between the two of us.

Before I can answer, Bakugou cuts in, his voice still laced with anger and urgency. "Just get us out of here, Deku. Now."

[s9sa]

Ahahahah can i request Bottom!Dick Grayson x Top!Male!Reader??🥺🥺🥺 Like Dick gets jealous when some people constantly flirst with the reader, so to assert dominance Dick gets on reader's dick and just overstimulaion, cowgirl position, mirror sex (where reader says im gonna only do this with you, so you better look carefully), and just sweet fluff?👼

All Mine.

☆.   ﹟SUMMARY – A jealous Dick meant raw sex. He was tired of everyone claiming you as theirs, which led to him giving up and simply plopping down on your cock to reclaim dominance.

☆.   ﹟PAIRING – Bottom!Dick Grayson x Top!Male Reader

☆.   ﹟WARNINGS – cowgirl position, overstimulation (?), mirror sex, possessive (dick being jealous & wanting reader to himself), oral (r receiving), dick being a whore & proud, cum eating, multiple orgasms, all fluffy at the end

☆.   ﹟WORD COUNT – 3.5K

☆.   ﹟NOTE – Writing this was so fun! I went a little overboard and adjusted a few things, but hopefully this meets your expectations. I apologize for the delay in uploading this, but I just wanted to perfect a few things and add some more details. I rewrote this about 3-4 times before combining a few ideas from the billions of rewrites into one big smutty but fluffy fic. I finished this late at night, so there may be *some* errors & a little rushed.

He hated how everyone would practically drool over you, always complimenting you for the bare minimum and making corny jokes just to get an awkward laugh out of you. It was frustrating to see so many people cling to you as if you weren’t in a happy relationship with him. It irritated him to no end. You were all his. And he wished people would get the message. What made them think you would accept after the second try if you had already previously rejected them? It drove him insane. He was tired of the constant flirting. Listening to their attempts at flirting and spilling their glasses on your shirt just to get a glimpse of what you were hiding beneath there sickened him. It’s all cliche.

And, in his opinion, poorly executed. At least TRY to use a few unique pickup lines.

“Dick, baby, you okay? You’ve been kinda staring off into space and it’s lowkey frightening.” Dick looks exasperated as you interrupt his thought bubble, and you can see the frustration in his eyes. "I just find it hard to focus when there are so many people around," he says, before pausing to take in the looks of the journalists gathered around you. "Especially when they’re staring at you like that."

“We can leave.”

Dick puts his head in your lap, pouting and holding his face up with his palms. You shift your attention away from your phone and toward Dick, who was a pouty mess, and give him a gentle smile while patting his head. “I don’t want your head pat,” You let out a small chuckle as he sarcastically mutters, ruffling his hair, enjoying the softness of his curls. You fluff them up a little more, retracting your hand and returning your gaze to your phone. “Hey. Notice me.” Dick pokes your cheek again, trying to get your attention so he can complain about the flirting situation. You tilt your head and look down at him. “Yes?” You speak up, confused but attentive. “We’re boyfriends, right?” Dick asks you.

“Yes. Do you not–” Dick quickly waves you off, scrambling to explain what he meant by his question and sitting up straight to look you in the eyes. “No! I mean, if we’re boyfriends, why do people act like we aren’t? What about the constant flirting? It’s frustrating!" He makes a noise, burrowing his head into the pillow, before sitting up again and watching you think deeply about how to phrase your thoughts without sounding stupid. “Honestly. It is annoying. People are just desperate and it’s kinda depressing.” Dick sighs deeply before resting his head on your shoulder, his arm wrapped around yours, gently comforting him.

The motion of stroking Dick’s knuckles with your thumb feels soothing, as you sense how soft but thick his skin is. He looks at the interaction again, deep in thought, before concluding to assert dominance. Why didn’t he just...fuck you if he wanted everyone to stop? That was something he could slap in the face of everyone. He was capable of having sex with you while they dreamed about it. A smile grew wider and wider as his confidence grew. He carefully pulls his arm away from yours, plunging into your lap. After squirming into a comfortable position, he presses his weight against your bulge and grinds slight pressure against it. You were his and yours alone, and he was determined to make everyone know it.

Although you were determined to take things slow, he made you horny beyond belief. You were aching for more from his sensual movements and the way he teased your body, but you didn’t want to surrender just yet. It was that pleasure he was giving you that made you want to savor every moment of it. The situation had escalated so fast, but neither of you wanted to complain. Dick was finding pleasure in edging you before opening his mouth to speak out about his thoughts. He looks at you with pleading eyes as he says, "I don’t want to share you." His breath hitching, he can feel your hard cock pressing against him, sending a tingly feeling down his body and making him shiver with anticipation. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as he begs for your touch.

You reassure him that you are completely dedicated to him and that you will always be there for him. You kiss him passionately, feeling his hot tongue wrap around yours. He moans against you, deepening the kiss to let you know just how desperately he needs you. He whines when your tongue slides over his again, withdrawing to stare at his pouty lips and press your thumb against his bottom lip. You can’t help but smile as he eagerly opens his mouth to let you in, sucking your thumb into his mouth. He licks his tongue over the back of your finger, his eyes widening and drawing you in with their intense, sensual gaze. You can feel your heart racing as he takes more of your finger into his mouth, licking it until you can no longer resist. His lips are soft and warm, and you can feel yourself getting lost in his gaze and the feel of his mouth on your finger.

Dick was gorgeous, and it turned you on to see him sucking your thumb so eagerly. The room was getting steamy, and both of you were getting impatient to just tear each other’s clothes off and have wild sex. There was no denying the desire between you two, and finally, Dick pulled away from your thumb long enough to start stripping off both of your clothes. He wanted you right now and didn’t care if things were moving faster than usual. He needed to take action now, and show you how much he wanted you. He got into position, Dick eagerly wrapping his lips around your cock, sucking vigorously as pre-cum dripped from the head. You moaned, the pleasure was palpable as he teased your tip with his tongue before taking it all in. His mouth was warm and wet, and you couldn’t help but thrust your hips upward, seeking more.

Dick worked your cock expertly, his head bobbing up and down as he took you deeper and deeper. He teased your frenulum with his tongue, sending shivers down your spine. He didn’t stop until you were moaning and panting, the pleasure too much to handle. You eagerly took advantage of the warm, wet mouth that was engulfing your throbbing cock, eagerly moaning and gasping as the warm, wet lips moved up and down your shaft. His head bobbed up and down, taking more and more of you into his mouth until he was deep inside, his tongue swirling around the tip. You moaned louder as you felt the wet lips enclose the head of his cock. You gasped when you felt the soft, wet tongue swirl around the tip, teasing you before taking you deeper into the mouth. You felt yourself start to twitch, pleasure increasing with each movement.

You couldn’t take it anymore and started to move your hips, thrusting your cock deeper into the warm mouth. Dick whimpers as your hand grip his hair, forcing his head back so you can plunge deeper into his throat. He tried to take it all, but your fat cock was too much for him to handle. You ravage him mercilessly, taking what you want. As you reach your climax, you let out a deep guttural moan and dump your hot load down his throat. Dick can do nothing but gulp it down, whimpering in submission. Dick is pulled into your lap with one passionate kiss and impaled on your rock-hard cock. A moan escapes his lips as he settles down onto your throbbing member, the sensation of being stretched to the limit quickly turning into one of sheer ecstasy. Dick can do nothing but cling to you and moan in pleasure. He rocks his hips eagerly against yours, his hands clutching at your chest as he bounces faster and harder. His lower lip is caught between his teeth as he moans with pleasure, each movement sending shivers through your body. You can feel yourself getting harder, and he tightens around you, milking every last drop of pleasure from your throbbing cock.

“Fuck.” Dick moaned as your fat cock filled him up, your hips thrusting upwards to give him the deepest penetration possible. His moans only turned into whines and pleas when you started tugging at him slowly, milking him for all he was worth. With the feeling of your cock and your hand around his own, Dick couldn’t help but whine like a little bitch, muttering out incoherent words. “Do you still have that confidence from earlier?” You ask with a smirk, feeling Dick rock against you pathetically. “Doesn’t seem like it,” you muse, before moving his hips to meet your thrusts. He can only move his hips subconsciously, bouncing into your lap and listening to the harsh slaps of skin on skin. Your hand remains tightly wrapped around his cock, overstimulating him as you move your hand up and down at a pace that makes his stomach churn.

Dick moans loudly, his head lolling back as he rocks his hips in time with your movements. He’s close, so close, but you’re refusing to let him cum. You tease him, refusing to let him cum until he’s begging for it. With each stroke, Dick’s cock gets harder and redder until he’s whimpering and panting with need. “You can do it,” you tell him, lending him a light grin. With one final stroke, Dick cries out and cums, his body jerking and his cock pulsing. You take control of the situation, fucking deeper into him with a satisfied moan. Dick whines incessantly, his back brushing against the soft sheets of your bed, staring up at the ceiling while moaning your name. He couldn’t process anything but that fuzzy feeling all over his body as you repeatedly drilled into his hole.

“Fuck me..” He gasps and moans as you push yourself deep inside him, your bodies trembling with pleasure as you become one. His tight hole milks you as you go deeper, the slick heat sending shivers up your spine. You pump harder and faster, unable to resist the urge to cum as he screams out in ecstasy. As his warm insides bring you closer to orgasm, you can’t help but moan in pleasure. You didn’t expect to cum so quickly, but now that you’re on the brink of orgasm, you can’t help but go all the way. Filling him up to the brim with your cum is exactly what you both wanted. Dick moans as you continue to pound his hole. He bites his lower lip once more, muffling his moans as you lean down to leave hickeys on his neck. He wraps his arms around your back, moaning into your ear as you fuck closer and closer, eventually cumming deep within him.

Dick feels himself go weak at the knees as he experiences the pinnacle of pleasure, his body shaking and his breathing ragged as you cum hard. You continue to fuck him until both of you are completely satisfied, his hole throbbing and his hole covered in your cum. He shakes, watching how your cum spouts out of his abused hole while you exit his body. You take a breathless look around before finally finding what you were looking for. Dick rests there, clinging to the sheets as your cum ceaselessly pours out of him like a waterfall.

“What…what are you looking at?” Dick exhales and sits up, trying to figure out what had you so distracted. You, on the other hand, completely ignored him while attempting to perfectly angle the stand-up mirror. “Come here,” You finally say, Dick hesitantly but shakily approaching where you were. He stands there awkwardly, taking a quick glance at himself before you position him with his back arched, hands against the mirror, and ass protruding. You stand behind him, your hands on his hips. “I know you and I are both fed up with the constant flirting... So, how about I remind you who I care about the most? And you better look closely because I’m only going to do this with you, Grayson.” You stroke yourself, one hand gently rubbing circles into his hips while getting hard. Dick tries hard not to smile, his happiness far too big to contain. At the end of the day, he knew you were his, and the fact that you confirmed it with mirror sex made it even better.

Dick’s breath hitches as you steadily ease yourself into his welcoming hole that practically begged for you. He lets out a hoarse moan, his fingers attempting to grasp the glass of the mirror, his teeth gritting as you slowly sink deeper into him, sucking on his earlobe while cursing under your breath. You found yourself tightening your grip on his hips, tight enough to leave a red mark, while retracting your head as a saliva string follows suit, breaking when you start kissing his shoulder blade. Dick can only respond to every move you make. Once you’re both at ease, you begin with slow thrusts, pushing his head down until it touches the mirror, Dick’s arm raised high and mighty as you gradually gain speed. Dick squirms and moans as you get him rounded up, lightly smacking his ass and sending shivers down his spine. He balls up his fists as you press against him harder, your smacks getting deadlier with each powerful thrust against the ripples of his ass.

The sensations are electric as you spank him harder, Dick’s skin on fire under your palm. He whimpers loudly now, moaning in ecstasy as you quicken the pace even more, one hand tangling in his hair and pulling gently while the other rubs circles on the nape of his neck. You slam into him hard now, both of you desperate and Dick whines, feeling your hips sloppily press against him in a rhythmic series of thrusts that transports him to his own peaceful version of heaven, the burning sensation from his ass spreading throughout his body and returning to reality when you give him a powerful thrust, a cry of your name leaving his pretty lips. The feeling of your body slamming into his sends a shiver down his spine and a moan slipping past his lips. His brain can barely process anything else as you fuck him hard, his knees going weak at the sheer force you’re using. You suck on his neck, your tongue licking over the hickeys you left there as you pound into him. He can barely take it, his body trembling and his bottom lip trembling as you take him to new heights.

At first, you were gentle with him, taking your time as you fucked him slow and deep. But now, there was no turning back – you were going to fuck him hard and make him cum harder than he ever had before. His torso was pressed against the mirror, head slightly tilted back in ecstasy as you pounded into him over and over. His cock felt amazing wrapped around your hand, stroking it as you fucked him. He was moaning loudly now, begging for more and more as you gave it to him. “You look so pretty, y’know?” Your voice was hoarse and dripping with arousal as you whispered in his ear. All he could do was whine and beg for you to give him what he wanted. He knew he looked like a slut, but he didn’t care. He was too horny to care about anything else. You continue to tug on his head, making his hair messy and his stomach flutter with butterflies. He moans and rolls his head back, surrendering to your touch.

He opens his mouth, and you can see the desire in his eyes. Your lips touch, and an electric-like touch spreads through both of you as your tongues wrap around each other. You kiss sloppily, but it feels amazing. You feel intoxicated by the touch of each other, and you can’t help but want more. He clasps your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs gently, before diving back in for another heated kiss. You can feel the sparks igniting between your bodies, setting them ablaze with desire. With each movement you made on him, Dick felt his orgasm building up faster and faster. He couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as your intoxicating kisses, heavenly thrusts, and teasing strokes sent him over the edge. With a loud cry, he came hard and fast, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.

You still fucked him into the mess you created, making him whine as he couldn’t handle it. Dick quivered and tried to withstand on his own two feet but he could barely do it. He struggled to stay on his feet, his knees wobbling beneath him. Every muscle in his thighs burned, but he willed himself to keep going. You let go, spilling yourself deep inside of him as Dick rode you through your climax. It was earth-shattering, and the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced. You clung to him tightly as you rode it out together, your bodies intertwined.

“God, you’re amazing,” You exhaled and collapsed back into the bed, pulling him with you. You both lay there for a few moments, catching your breath. Then, you both started to smile uncontrollably. “I don’t anybody else but you.” You gaze into his eyes, gently caressing his face while applying gentle kisses to his chaste lips. He gives a weak smile, silently laughing before hiding his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes to rest. You hold him to you, not wanting to let go.

He relaxes into you, his body slowly giving in to the fatigue that has been slowly creeping up on him. After a few minutes, he finally succumbs to sleep, his breathing even and calm. You hold him close, not wanting to let him go.

He was relieved to know that you were truly dedicated to him.

[cinnbar-bun]

Popularity- Cross Guild's Day Off 2 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and Buggy attempts to prove his popularity through a poll. Of course, it's never as simple as it really should be in Cross Guild.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: ~3k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Made in mind with part 1, but can be read as standalone. Features cameos from Alvida, Galdino, and Daz Bones.

A/n: I love these three goofballs so like feel free to request stuff with them or what scenarios you'd like to see them in please???

Read Part 1 here! Read this chapter on my AO3 here!

“It’s really not fair! It’s not fair at all!” Buggy screamed. Mihawk, Crocodile, and you sighed at whatever it was that seemed to be, well, bugging Buggy. 

“Will you stop your complaining? Some of us are actually trying to do work here,” Crocodile growled while his fingers continued clicking away on the calculator. “(Y/n), go and hand me the reports for-,” 

“Right here, Sir,” you said as you handed him the stack of papers he wanted. Crocodile smirked proudly while his eyes narrowed at Buggy. 

“See, why can’t you be like (Y/n)? They know how to get work done.” 

“Wha-! I get work done! Plenty of work!” 

“Juggling isn’t work.” 

“Is too!” Buggy stomped his foot. 

“Hardly,” Mihawk chimes in. 

“Grrr… you two are just jealous of me! Jealous of how I’m the Star Clown and you two will just be boring, old men!” 

Mihawk and Crocodile glanced at each other knowingly and rolled their eyes. 

“You’re still bothered by the fact you were not important enough to have any good cards in the deck, aren't you?” Mihawk states bluntly, not bothering to be gentle with Buggy’s fragile ego. 

“SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!!!” Buggy shouted, gaining the attention from his subordinates outside the office. 

“Aw… someone’s upset,” Crocodile teased. You huffed at the two stoic ex-warlords and tried to soothe Buggy. 

“Buggy, it’s alright. They’re just silly cards. Look around you, you have so many employees happy to work for you because they really admire you as captain,” you say genuinely while patting his head. Buggy sniffles and nods. 

“You’re right, (Y/n), you’re right,” Buggy agrees. He wipes his eyes and nose with his hand before he bounces back to life, clenching his fists. “That’s very true! All these people love me and would die for me! So those card makers don’t know anything! I’m the most popular one here!” 

“Wait, what…” you wince, while Crocodile and Mihawk groan. 

“Thanks, (Y/n), now he’s gonna do something stupid again,” Crocodile sighed. 

“Buggy, all I’m saying is-” you try to fix your error, but Buggy shakes his head. 

“Nope! You just gave me an amazing idea!” 

“Here we go again,” Mihawk mumbles. 

“W-what’s the idea?” You ask Buggy. 

“Obviously, to really settle the matter, we need to hold a popularity contest!” Buggy proclaims. 

“We really don’t have to. No one cares about this except you,” Crocodile says blandly while he opens the folder you gave him. 

“Haha! You’re just saying that because you know deep down that I will win when it comes to Cross Guild!” Buggy eggs Crocodile on. “They love me here!” 

“I really don’t care-” 

“So, to finally gather once and for all who the most popular is-” 

“God damn it.” 

“I’m going to poll the others!” Buggy announces, grabbing a random clipboard from your desk. 

“Isn’t that rather biased?” Mihawk asked. 

“Biased? What are you talking about?” Buggy raises his brow. “You think Imma lie about this?” 

“Yes,” all of you respond. Buggy lets out an offended gasp and frowns. 

“Well then, what do you suggest, smart guy?” Buggy yells at Mihawk. 

“Having only you go around and then return with results will obviously not be the most accurate. We need to send a third party that won’t lie,” Mihawk explains. 

The three men turn to look at you. 

“Why do I have to do it?” You fold your arms. “I have work to do!” 

“I’ll pay you extra for this week in order to have Buggy shut up,” Crocodile states. 

“Do you think I can be swayed so easily with money?” 

“Yes,” the three men respond. You swipe the clipboard from Buggy. 

“Damn right I am,” you state as you pick up your favorite pen from your desk. 

“Now then, since you’re going to be polling, I expect truthful and honest answers,” Mihawk demands. “No one can lie or cheat this.” 

“Before we do this, none of you are allowed to know who voted for who,” you add. “I’m not having you fire or hunt down some poor employee because they voted for Mihawk or something.” “Well that won’t happen,” Buggy comments. “No one is gonna vote for Mihawk to begin with.” 

Now it’s Mihawk’s turn to be offended. “What do you mean by that, Buggy? Do I need to silence you for good?” 

“Eek! All I’m saying is, you hardly ever step out of the office or interact with anyone!” 

Mihawk stays silent then mumbles, “I interact with others…” 

“Oh really? Name one person you’ve interacted with,” Crocodile demands. 

“You can’t do that, either,” Mihawk counters. 

“That’s just because I don’t give a shit about these people’s names. I still talk to them, though,” Crocodile corrects. 

“Fine, (Y/n)!” Mihawk huffs. 

“They don’t count.” 

“Why don’t they?” Mihawk crosses his arms. 

“Because we all see them every day in this office,” Crocodile chides Mihawk. “Name someone.” 

“Okay, I guess I cannot name anyone,” Mihawk relents. “Not that it matters in the slightest, by the way. This is a silly and pointless little game.” 

“See? No one is gonna vote for you!” Buggy laughs. 

“I guess I should kill you now, Buggy,” Mihawk says as he draws Yoru. 

“Gaaaahhh! No! Please don’t!” Buggy cries, latching onto you for safety. 

“Buggy, please let go,” you sigh. The clown does so shakily and you begin to write on the paper in your clipboard. “Okay… Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk. There we go. I’ll go around and ask, then. See you guys later.” 

“Before you go,” Crocodile begins. You turn to hear him out while he has a big shit-eating grin on his face. “If you’re going to talk to Mr. 3… knock before you enter.” 

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets from what this could mean as you nod and exit the office. 

“Why the hell did you say that?” Buggy questions. Crocodile chuckles, taking a puff from his cigar as he shakes his head. 

“Oh, they’ll see soon enough.” 

-

“Favorite head of Cross Guild?” An employee scratches his head. His coworker beside him does the same. 

“Wait, uh, they’re not gonna kill us for answering this, are they?” The other one asks. 

“Crap, you’re right. Is this some way to weed us out or something?” 

You shake your head. “No, no, not at all! This is just a… uh… thing they’re testing for some new merchandise,” you lie. 

“Ah,” the two men nod along. “That makes so much sense.” 

“Buggy,” the first man states. 

“Mmm… yeah, Buggy,” the second adds. “He never harps on us like Sir Crocodile.” 

You thank them for the response and tally it to the votes. 

“I guess Buggy was right,” you mumble to yourself, seeing as he currently had seven votes out of the seven people you asked. “Maybe we could send these results in to those cardmakers and get a cut of the merchandising.” 

Just as you’re about to walk away, Alvida strolls into the room. 

“Oh, Alvida! Good morning,” you smile at her. “Can I have a moment of your time?” “(Y/n), dear,” Alvida runs a hand through her hair. “What do you need from the most beautiful woman of the sea?” 

“Well, the higher-ups wanted to run a poll,” you show her the paper. “Please vote for your favorite head of Cross Guild.” 

She studies the paper for a moment and purses her lips. “Hmm… you know what, I vote for you.” 

“What?” 

“What? Just put a tally for you,” Alvida suggests nonchalantly. 

“But, um, I’m not a head of Cross Guild,” you argue. 

“So? You practically are their fourth one. I’m sure they won’t mind. And if they do, they can take it up with me,” Alvida brushes your concerns aside and takes the pen from you. She writes your name down and adds a tally. 

“Can I ask why you want to add me?” 

“Simple, dear.” Alvida chuckles. “You’re not like those brutes upstairs. You get worked to the bone by them yet still retain your own sense of self. Do you know what that is?” 

“No, I don’t think I know what that is-” 

“Passion!” Alvida throws her arms in the air. “You are passionate, clean, stylish, and most of all, you are quiet! If anyone is worthy of my vote and attention- it is you!” 

“Wow, thank you,” you comment, impressed that Alvida actually gave you a nice compliment. 

“Yes, yes, well, what do you think about becoming my assistant instead of working for them?” Alvida winks. 

“Ah sorry, I’m pretty happy where I am right now,” you quickly shut down. Alvida clicks her tongue. 

“Hm… perhaps you’d prefer to be my partner instead? You would be a good match by my side.” 

“Would you look at the time!” You awkwardly laugh. “Bye, Alvida!” 

“Bye, darling. Don’t worry though, we’ll pick this conversation up another time~,” she waves. You sigh in relief as you walk away that she didn’t mace you immediately. Still, there’s work to be done. 

You walk into the staff lounge and greet the other members there, who cheerfully greet you back. 

“Sorry to bother you guys, but if you could just fill out this poll, that would be great. And don’t worry, no one will know of the results, so please be as honest as you can!” 

The clipboard gets passed along by the staff members, who quickly add a tally mark to the poll. In less than a minute, all twenty people in the lounge have responded. 

“Wow, thank you guys. You guys are quick,” you joke, taking back the clipboard. 

“The choice was obvious,” one of the employees answers, and the others nod. You wonder who they voted for when you look at the paper, only to see your name has now over twenty marks attached to it. Your eyes widen and you politely thank the others as you step out of the room. 

It was one thing when Alvida did as she pleased, but now the others were voting for you in droves. You took a deep breath. Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy surely wouldn’t kill you for this, would they? After all, Alvida herself said they could bring it up with her. Yeah, that was okay. This was just a silly joke anyways. 

You continue to collect polls, feeling touched yet also nervous when you found that every employee had checked you off as their favorite. It got so bad that you had to use a second page to collect all the tallies that the employees were adding to your name. 

As the number of employees left to ask dwindled, you remembered to get Daz Bones and Galdino’s polls. You figured the choice would be clear for them- Crocodile. After all, they were very loyal to him and even continued their work relationship into Cross Guild. It would also allow for Crocodile to at least get some vote from his current tally at zero. 

You had scoured for them all around the base, but didn’t find any sign of their presence. Just as you were about to give up, you found Daz Bones peacefully sitting, probably waiting for his next assignment. 

“Daz! Can I-” 

“(Y/n), I have no interest,” he cut you off. 

“It’s for Crocodile,” you add, knowing he wouldn’t participate otherwise. Daz nods and then urges you to step closer. You show him the clipboard and he raises a brow. 

“Crocodile really cares about this sort of thing?” 

“It’s mostly because of Buggy,” you explain, and Daz nods, connecting the dots. He quickly tallies a mark to Crocodile’s name. “Thank you, Daz!” 

“You’re welcome,” he gruffly responds. 

“Oh, and do you know where Galdino is?” 

“Why should I know? Perhaps he’s in his room,” Daz shrugs. You should’ve guessed that but wave goodbye and walk to Galdino’s room. You’re about to knock when you remember Crocodile’s ominous warning echoing in your head again. 

“Knock before you enter…” 

You were going to do that anyways, but the weird way Crocodile said it made you grimace. You nervously rapped your knuckles against Galdino’s door. You heard a huff and a lot of grumbling as Galdino swung open the door. 

“What do you w-,” he angrily yells until he gasps when he sees it’s you. “(Y/n)! Ah! Uh! Please excuse me!” 

You briefly notice a large wax statue on the table before Galdino slams the door on your face. You jump when you hear Galdino freaking out and throwing things around his studio. Something metal is grating against the floor as you hear Galdino struggle to move the obviously heavy object. 

“G-Galdino? Is this a bad time?” You call out. 

“No, no, no! It’s fine! Perfectly fine! Hahaha there’s nothing weird going on here!” Galdino answers from inside his room as something crashes to the floor and Galdino swears. 

It’s silent for a moment until Galdino opens the door, leaning against the frame and trying to give you a charming smile while some wax is now splattered against his pants and shirt. 

“So, (Y/n), what brings you to my studio?” He asks while forcing his voice to sound lower, pushing up his glasses. 

“Ah, the heads wanted to take a little poll. Mind answering?” 

“Anything for- I mean-,” Galdino coughs and lowers his voice again. “Anything for you, (Y/n).” 

He takes the clipboard from you and begins to notice the options, quickly marking a tally next to your name. 

“There you go- wait a minute!” He looks horrified as realization sets in that there’s only one tally next to Crocodile- most likely Daz, he thinks. Crocodile would absolutely know right away that Galdino didn’t choose him, and the thought makes Galdino nearly pass out. “I-I need to change my vote!” 

“Sure,” you give the clipboard back to him and Galdino scribbles over the one he gave you to mark one next to Crocodile. 

“Kh... but we’re supposed to be honest…” Galdino mutters. He glances at you, and seeing you patiently waiting and smiling at him makes his heart tighten. 

Gah! Who am I supposed to choose?! My muse or my boss?!

“Are you alright, Galdino?” You asked, making Galdino struggle to form words. Instead, he scribbled over the mark he put next to Crocodile and re-marked a tally next to your name. 

He hands the clipboard back to you and you smile and wave to him. “Thank you, Galdino!” 

“Y-you’re very welcome!” Galdino shouts, unable to control his voice properly around you. You turn around and head back to the office while Galdino lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He was most likely going to die after this, but seeing your smile was all worth it. He could die happy, even knowing that Crocodile would probably drain him of life later. 

You, however, didn’t notice the longing look Galdino gave you as you open the door to the office. 

“Well, I got all the votes!” 

“Well, who won?” Buggy immediately jumps forward and steals the clipboard from you. He notices that Crocodile and Mihawk hardly have any, with only Crocodile have a mark. “See I wo…” 

His face darkened as he noticed he had only seven votes. 

“What’s the matter, Buggy?” Crocodile smirked. “Can’t handle the fact you lost?” 

“I… wha…” Buggy grips the clipboard roughly, nearly snapping it in half. “How the hell did (Y/n) get all the votes!?” 

Crocodile and Mihawk are caught off guard. 

“Wait, what? (Y/n) won?” Crocodile repeated. 

“I thought I told you to be fair and not cheat!” Mihawk accused you, his golden hawk eyes glaring into yours. 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! Alvida was the one who put my name on the list!” You try to defend yourself. 

“Give me that-” Crocodile snaps as he swipes the poll from Buggy’s hand. Crocodile grunts as he notices page after page marked with tallies from the employees choosing you. He sees Mihawk has none, but that his name has one mark (Daz, of course), and one crossed off (that bastard, Galdino-). Given Crocodile’s attentiveness, he does recognize that yours and Alvida’s handwriting is different, so your story is credible. He huffs and tosses the clipboard, making Mihawk lean over curiously. 

“Not even one vote…” he murmurs. 

Buggy, meanwhile, is distraught, crying on the floor and banging it repeatedly. 

“It’s not fair! Not fair at all! I hate this! I’m the star!” Buggy wails out loud. 

At first, Crocodile did this as a joke to satiate Buggy, but even his own ego is hurt by this new poll. 

“I take it back, you’re getting docked again,” Crocodile threatens, pointing his cigar at you. 

“What?! But I spent all day getting this with the promise of money!” 

“I changed my mind! I wanted a good poll, not whatever the hell this was!” Crocodile yells back. 

“Recount! Recount this!” Buggy shouts. 

“I refuse to lose this competition. Give me an hour, I will win this,” Mihawk says, pushing himself off his couch as he walks out the door to do who knows what. 

The ensuing commotion causes some of the Cross Guild members to peek through the door and watch Buggy screaming in agony at losing while you’re sobbing at the fact you’re losing money due to this dumb poll. 

Alvida rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. 

“Would you guys cut this noise out? It’s driving me mad!” 

“Alvida! This is all your fault!” Buggy yells at Alvida in tears. “I was supposed to win, not (Y/n)!” 

Alvida frowns at Buggy and twirls her mace in her hands. “Are you questioning my decisions?” 

Buggy gulps as he sees the mace casting a shadow over him. 

“N-no, not at all!” He quickly corrects himself, praying Alvida will not maim him to death. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

[not-magdi]

"Home for the Holidays"

Summary: Going home for the holidays with your boyfriend 

Word Count: 1.9k

Reading time: 7 min 40sec

Genre: Fluff

A/N 

A Pedri image for some change again, I wasn't sure at first with who I was going to write it but he gave me better vibes for this. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Love you guys Magdi <3

(His smile aagghh, it's so cute!!)

You were currently packing your bags as you were flying home for Christmas. The whole day, you were in a good mood, blasting Christmas songs through your speakers and dancing around your house to them.

Since you moved to Barcelona for your new job six months ago, you haven't been able to travel home for once. Work and other things were always getting in the way.

But now you finally have time to go home and spend the holidays with your family. You were beyond excited you hadn't seen your parents in a long time, the last time they visited you was in summer when they came to visit you and meet your new boyfriend, Pedro Gonzáles.

The same boyfriend who is currently sitting on the floor beside you, laughing at all the stupid Christmas sweaters you own.

"Amor, why do you have so many of them !?"

"Because they're awsome. Look! This one has little kittens with hats on them!"

You threw a reindeer one at him as he still laughed at you. The two of you continued to joke around until you heard your phone ringing.

"It's my mum, give me a sec."

As you picked up, your smile faltered when you heard the sad voice of your mum as she greeted you. Walking out of the room, you tried to find a quiet corner so you could speak to her.

"Hey Mum, is everything alright?" You asked her concerned.

"Well, not quite. We just got a national wetter warning for the whole country. There's a big snowstorm coming. All airports cancelled their flights to here."

Your phone nearly fell out of your hand as you heard the news. "No please, no." Tears started to gather in your eyes as you let the information sink in.

"I'm so sorry, honey, but we can visit you soon, after this storm is over. I promise."

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly say goodbye to your mum and hand up again. When you put your phone back into your pocket, the first tear ran down your face. Not being able to go home meant you would be spending Christmas alone for the first time.

Your long absence made Pedri curious about where you ended up, so he stood up and began to search for you.

"Y/N where are you?"

You quickly dried your tears as you heard him rounding the corner to the living room.

"Y-yeah I'm fine. ¡No te preocupes!" (Don't worry)

You tried to make your voice sound more steady than it actually was. But as soon as you locked eyes with Pedri, the dams broke. With tears streaming down your face, you tried to explain to him what happened, though nothing but sobs left your lips.

"I-I (sob), I can't-"

"Hey, it's ok. Estoy auqí, estoy aquí." (I'm here, I'm here.)

Pedri rushed over to you and immediately took you into his embrace. Gripping his hoodie, you buried your face into his neck and continued to cry.

Not knowing what happened, Pedri let his fingers run through your hair in an attempt to calm you down a bit.

"Tell your Pepi what happened Amor. Maybe I can help you fix it." He softly stroked your cheek while tightening his other arm around you.

Shaking your head, you answer with a shaking voice. "I don't think you can help me with this. The only thing that could help me would be a magical change in the weather."

"¿Qué quieres decir cariño? (What do you mean honey?)

"Th-There is a massive storm at home. (Sniff) I-I can't go home, Pedri."

You looked up at him as you told him the reason for your misery, your voice barely a whisper. Pedri felt his heart squeeze as he saw your red eyes and puffy, wet cheeks.

While holding you in his arms, trying to reassure you, an idea sparked into his mind.

"Baby, do you wanna spend Christmas with my family?"

You smiled slightly at his suggestion. Pedri would do anything to make you happy. But you weren't sure about his idea. You see, Pedri and you have only been together for five months. Yes, you've already met his family, but you didn't want to intrude on such an intimate holiday.

"Pepi, I'm not sure. You've not seen your family for so long I don't want to intrude."

Looking at you in disbelief, Pedri takes your face into his hands. "Bebé, my parents love you! You would be the last person to intrude. Please do it for me. I couldn't enjoy myself knowing you would be here, alone."

Your heart melted at his statement, so you agreed to go to the Canary Islands with him and his brother.

It was the 23rd of December, and after paying way too much for a last-minute plane ticket, you and Pedri met Fer at the airport and are now waiting for your gate to open.

"I'm happy you're here. Pedro is way more fun when you're with him."

You blushed at Fer's words. He is always so friendly towards you. Ever since the day Pedri introduced you two. Fer made you feel welcome, and you really appreciated that. As you wanted to say something to him, your gate opened, and Pedri ushered you to board the plane.

Your flight was pretty chill. A few people asked Pedri if they could take a photo with him, which he happily agreed to do. You always admired how kind he acted around his fans.

After you landed, you three got a taxi and drove to Pedri's and Fer's childhood home.

Fernando and Rosy were already waiting by the door to greet all of you. As soon as the two brothers were out of the car, they were already in the warm embrace of their parents.

You stood beside them for a while, not wanting to interrupt their long-awaited family reunion. But as soon as Rosy saw you, she let go of her sons to give you a big welcoming hug.

"Y/n! It's so great that you're here!"

"Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciated it!"

Fernando also came over to give you a quick hug. "Oh please, we are more than happy to have you here."

After unpacking and resting for some time, Pedri decided to show you around in his hometown. You visited his school, first-ever football club, and the beach where he and his friends would always go after training.

You were amazed to see all the places that made your Pedro who he is now.

After spending the whole day exploring the island, you two came home to a home-cooked meal. You ate dinner and had a wonderful time with his family. You were unbelievably grateful to be a part of all this.

The next day, you woke up on top of Pedri. His warm hands were stroking your back, which ultimately woke you up.

"Bon dia bebé." Kissing the side of your face, Pedri greeted you with his slightly groggy morning voice.

"Mhm, morning Amor."

You cuddled deeper into his warm embrace again and nearly fell asleep until Fer banged his fist against the door.

"Morning lovebirds! Get up!"

Groaning, Pedri moves you from him and slowly sits up. "I swear to god I love him, but sometimes he needs to be smacked on the back of his head."

You both start to giggle and decide to get up and begin the day. You put on some old training shorts and a shirt that you took from Pedri. You head downstairs to the kitchen, where Fernando is already preparing dinner for the evening.

"Good morning, you two! Breakfast is at the table, take what you want."

Thanking him, you head to the dining table. Fer and Rosy were already eating. You sat next to Pedri's mum, who greeted you with a warm smile.

While eating breakfast, you decide what you should do for the day. You choose helping Fer with the shopping while Pedri stays at home and helps his parents prepare for the evening.

It turned out that buying snacks and drinks for fourteen people takes longer than you thought. You and Fer came home barely before the first members of his family started to arrive.

The house looks beautifully decorated. It looks like it came straight out of a postcard. Pedri's family was unbelievably welcoming to you. You had a great time and enjoyed yourself truly.

When it was time for the presents, you quickly ran up the stairs to grab presents for Pedri and his parents. As soon as it was clear that you would join Pedri for the holidays, you immediately searched for presents for his parents.

You got his mum a beautiful necklace and his dad a bottle of wine. You hope they will like them. Pedri wasn't much help while buying them, so you just guessed.

When you arrived at the living room, wrapping paper flew around, and you could see Pedri playing with one of his cousins. Sitting next to him, you gave Pedri's parents their presents.

They absolutely loved them. Rosy hugged you tight after you put the necklace on her.

"My dear, thank you so much. I love it!"

"I'm glad you like it. But give me a second I have to hand Pedri his gift to."

You approached him with a small red envelope you picked up from under the Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas, Pepi."

Smiling at you, he took the envelope and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed and blushed, not used to showing so much affection in front of his family.

"What are you doing!?" You whisper-shouted into his ear.

"I missed you, my family has had way to much time with you."

You smirked at his slight jealousy. Pedri was never the biggest fan of sharing your attention.

"Come on, open your present now."

He ripped the envelope open and gasped.

"You got me tickets for Quevedo!?"

"Yeah, I saw that he is in Barcelona next summer, so I quickly bought them."

You felt Pedris arms tighten around you as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "I love you so much, thank you!!"

"I love you too ba-woah!" You gasped as Pedri literally threw you off his lap and sat you down on the couch.

"Wait here for a second. I need to get your gift."

As he rushed upstairs, you looked on in confusion. After a few minutes, he returned with a small white box in his hand.

Sitting down before you, he gave you the little box.

You quickly unwrapped it and gasped loudly, "No, you didn't!"

The box contained a Pandora bracelet, the kind of bracelet that allows you to add multiple charms. You talked to Pedri that you loved the idea of them. But that you thought they were too expensive.

You lunged yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!"

"You're welcome Amor. I'm happy you like it."

He helped you put the bracelet on, and as you looked closer, you saw a little Barcelona charm hanging from it. You gave Pedri a sweet kiss and continued to watch the rest of the family unwrapping their presents.

You spend the rest of the evening chatting and laughing with his family. You had a great time and felt truly like a part of the family. Something Pedri was already planning on making you after today.

------

Don't forget to leave a like if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!

[duckchu]

Duckyyyy, I seriously need a change from the KDA!reader stuff going around, could I mayhaps beg of you for anything romantic with whatever heartsteel boy you feel like writing for with a Pentakill reader?

(I seriously recommend listening to Pentakill if you like old metal, I can also help give a brief description of Pentakill if you need it)

-🎃

While Pentakill is (musically) my least favourite band from lol, I'm a Sona main and a Mordekaiser simp, I know them by heart, 🎃 (this sounds way more threating than it was meant to lmao) (and I do not know them by heart, I just love Sona and Mordekaiser and would very much enjoy being stuffing to a sandwich if they're the bread if you know what I mean

And you know what? I'm feeling like writing them all so enjoy my lovely pumpkin

Also sorry for kinda insterting Battle Academia Yone in there but I couldn't stop myself

Enjoy 🖤

(mmm wife gif)

Kayn

You're a hottie AND you're in THE Pentakill? He was instantly hooked on you when you two met

Though you weren't as keen on him, thinking of him as just another fanboy

After some time of him bugging you and trying to impress you as much as he can, you warmed up to him

Eventually landing yourself into a relationship with him

Everyone in both bands thought you two were just a short phase

But then the public learned about you

And my god, was it a storm

Especially since everyone suspected you were dating someone...more like you

But you two are still going strong

He loves your style, especially if your outfits include some chains (he's a kinky man what can I say)

Though he also enjoys your style outside of the stage, no matter how much it differs from your metal queen image

Honestly he just loves when you look happy

Probably wrote a few songs about you, which he will never show you, since he thinks you're too cool for love songs

Aphelios

Honestly? Wasn't interested at the beginning

You're from Pentakill? Ok, don't care

Honestly you were the one who fell first

He had no idea, untill he noticied you telling Sona you thought he was cute using sing language

After that he started noticing you in his surroundings more often

Especially if you wore tight clothes

I mean he's not a pervert, but you look really good

Finally Alune made him realise he's in love

Oh shit he is

So after some time to gather courage he goes in an confesses

Thought it wouldn't be a problem to do it in front of Kayle, since why would she know sing language

SHE'S IN THE BAND WITH SONA TOO FUCK

He may be stupid but you still love him

But rumours spread fast

So next day the press was on the asses of both of you

Honestly doesn't care. He loves you and that's what matters

Though the rest of Heartsteel might care

Oh well

Yone

You two met before Pentakill was even a thing

So he isn't intimated by you being in the band

He's actually very happy for you

Though he does miss the days when you two were just teenagers and could hang out more frequently

Especially since now you usually were with the band or touring

I mean he was happy with you

But he might not have gotten past his little high school crush on you

Ah, the old days, when he thought dying his hair pink would impress you

Now he knew he just had to tell you that he liked you in that special way

You two might have lost some time, but now you have plenty of it to make up for it~

Ezreal

Him? With you? Nooo, this had to be joke

A joke so good Karthus spilled his morning coffe out laughing

Oh wait, you actually were? Oh shit

No one ever thought the intimidating metal diva would be with someone like him

Everyone was sure he would be dating another popstar to break up after a week

But it's been half a year since the news broke out and you two are still going strong

He loves seeing you on stage

You're so...

He secretly wants you to step on him and call you mommy

But he can hold back

For now

Sett

Holy shit

The hottie from Pentakill

And him

It's like a dream come true

Although he is worried what his mom will think

She doesn't care

As long as you treat him well, she will welcome you with open arms

Sett loves how ferocious you are

He finds it so hot how intimidating you look on stage

Especially since you have such an effect, even against Mordekaiser and Yorick, who look...well scary

K'Sante

Won't tell you that, but you inspired him so much

He just loves when you mix up your stage style and home style

Like wearing just a normal blouse with that gorset belt? You look great!

He of course loves you for so much more

For example how you always take care of him

Turning into a big softie whenever he needs your help

Or the way your eyes light up when you see in the crowd at a concert

Though the music is not his taste, he will do anything for his partner

He won't admit it, but in the depths of his files there's a whole set of outfits he designed for Pentakill, inspired by you of course

[luvfy0dor]

Rhythm Is A Dancer !! ✩‧₊˚ Bsd x GN!Reader

╰┈➤ Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Warnings/Disclaimers ; Alcohol (Chuuya), nothing toxic though

Description ; Various bsd characters dancing with their partner!

A/N; if this is well received I might do this prompt with other characters!! I have some ideas for other things though, school just makes it tough to actually put them into writing without getting easily distracted.

Dazai Osamu !! ✧⁠*⁠。

Dazai would like to dance with his partner every now and again. Sometimes he might pull you into his chest and start swaying with you to cheer you up, or he might do it to annoy you. I think anytime he cleans his Godforsaken apartment he would invite you over, one hand on your waist, the other holding your hand outwards. Dazai dances spontaneously. I don't think there is any specific dance the really likes, he just goes with the flow. Whatever dance seems most fitting for the moment is what he's gonna do.

He particularly enjoys dipping his partner like he did to Sigma. He would grin as he watches your face contort into one of playful annoyance, placing a soft kiss on your lips shortly after. He would pull you back up, placing one of his hands on your lower back.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"Dear, I've just cleaned my apartment, would you like to come over? We can have a movie night at my place instead...I can even help pay for food this time!" Dazais voice enthusiastically played through the speaker of your phone as you wiped down your kitchen counters. "Like...right now?" You asked, your head tilting as you spoke.

"Mhm! C'mon, it'll be fun! I'm sure you were on your feet all day, why not come see your lovely boyfriend and relax, yeah?" He said. You could almost hear his grin through the phone as you sighed. "Alright, all be over in like...fifteen minutes." You say, smiling before hanging up. You gather your things and make your way to his apartment. You arrive fairly quickly, using the spare key he left at your house to let yourself in.

"I'm here!" You announce setting your bag down. Dazai quickly pokes his head out of his bedroom, a large smile on his face. "Ah, finally! You took forever." He teases. It only takes a second for the ambiance of "Careless Whispers" playing to fill your ears, making you roll your eyes and blush. "C'mon, dance with me, dear."

Dazais hands find themselves either on your lower back or interlocked with one of yours as he starts to sway with you to the intro of the song. You find yourself giggling quietly as you both dance around the open space of his living room. He spins you a couple times and you spin him, ending the song with him dipping you. His face hovers just above yours, his hair softly resting against your skin as he leans in and kisses you.

Chuuya Nakahara !! ✧⁠*⁠。

I think Chuuya knows how to dance. It's not his favorite thing in the world, but he'd dance with his lover if it made them happy and he wasn't tired. He would mostly come out of his shell when it comes to dancing if he's drunk, that man can do the salsa dance, he can tango, he can waltz - you name it, he can do it. He's definitely a smoother dancer when drunk, there are times when he has two left feet sober. He definetly gets that confidence boost. He doesn't like the whip and nae nae though, he probably thinks it's stupid. He's cool with the chacha slide, though.

Chuuya enjoys to romanticism and intimacy of dancing with his partner. He loves the laughter that erupts from your lips, giving him butterflies every time he hears it. It only makes him fall further for you.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The bar was quite packed as you sat at one of the stools, sipping on some water. Your lover sits besides you, drunkenly conversing with some random guy as you listened in. They would occasionally say some silly things to each other, their loud laughs covering up the sound of your quieter ones. Apart from that, there was little entertainment in the bar, your phone being very close to dying. You observe the small things happening in the bar, the way other couples lovingly engage in conversation, or the way two people dance near the jukebox, one of them spinning the other as the song comes to an end.

You feel Chuuya's arm snake around your waist, instantly returning your attention to him. His head still turned towards the man as he continues talking. Their current conversation based around the prices of certain brands of wine - specifically Chuuyas favorite, Petrus.

"The fact that $3,900 USD is a low price for one bottle is insane! Doesn't stop me from buying it though." He laughs a little. The man laughs with him, nodding in agreement. Your attention returns to the people near the jukebox, now dancing to Por Una Cabeza. Your ears perk up when you recognize the song. "Chuuya likes this song..." You thought. "Maybe he'll wanna dance."

Upon the short silence between the two men, you took your chance to ask Chuuya. You gently tugged at his sleeve, grabbing his attention.

"Chuuya, wanna go dance?" You say, pointing over at the decently sized area. "They're playing Por Una Cabeza." You smiled at him, influencing the nod you receive. "Sure thing, doll. C'mon." He smiles with you, hopping off of the bar stool. You both make your way to the small but big-enough cleared area, starting to slowly dance with each other, incorporating parts of the tango dance as you go. Your body is hugged close to his, one of his hands on your lower back, the other extended and holding yours. The song ends after a couple of minutes, Chuuya leaning in close to your face, a bit out of breath.

"I really should let ya' drag me out to the dance floor more, that was fun." He chuckles softly, pecking your cheek. You smile, a soft blush on your face.

Fyodor Dostoevsky !! ✧⁠*⁠。

Fyodor loves ballroom dancing, he was taught as a child and it has always stuck with him. He finds it both intimate and elegant, the soft sound of classical music by Russian composers playing in the background as you both delicately move across the open space. He won't be up and dancing for long though with his anemia, so he would take a moment in between songs.

That doesn't stop him from pulling you into him and swaying to the instrumentals coming from his record player, though. He dances with you whenever provided the chance. His plans weren't going exactly as planned? Take a moment to clear his mind by dancing with his lover. His lover that stands beside him, offering as much support and love as possible. His lover that is there for him, no matter what.

Scenario ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You barely heard your boyfriend walk up behind you, jumping a bit when he rested his hands on your shoulders, peering over you to look at what you were doing. "Ah, my dear seems to be a bit jumpy today." A small laugh comes from his parted lips.

"A little,i I guess. You scared me. You're very quiet, like a mouse." You say, slipping your book mark between the pages of the novel you had started reading a few nights ago. Fyodors hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers together gently. You take his hand and stand up from your desk, leaning into his chest.

"My dear, it's been quite a while since we've danced together, no?" He softly asks, a small smile on his face as he leads you over to the record player, only letting go of your hand to carefully start the machine. He rests his head softly on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your cologne or perfume. His hands resting either on the small of your back or in your own. "You always smell so lovely." You laugh a bit at his compliment.

"You must feel awfully affectionate this evening." You say. Your fingers softly scratch at Fyodors scalp, massaging his head as you two move together to the soft song. "Do you not like it?" You're quick to shake your head. "No, I love it. Forget I ever said anything." You softly giggle. Fyodor smiles and his eyes meet yours. You can hear the song coming to an end, and he pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss.

[bibibbon]

Ok a question center about Izu, in a way. Hm, ok let me gather my thought:

Mirio is either stupid or naive? I ask this bc well nighteye was a miserable bitch against Izu for no reason but petty. Is Mirio aware Nighteye is a creep or ...nighteye fake around mirio?

Now to Izu...I think I'm the only one who can see this but...Izu getting the quirk, ofa, is now a mean spirit joke. "Huh?what you mean?"

Mirio is the perfect candidate for ofa. He has a good grasp on his quirk, he knows how to act and is a mini am. He could fill the gap right away and AM was in a hurray.

Why pick Izu?

"he saved PoS" which ok...but is that enough to grant him a special quirk? No discussing or get to know Izu? Am doesn't know this kid...for all he knows Izu could have used ofa for evil.

To me, the way I see it. Izu got the quirk bc am is stubborn and nighteye was a mega creep.

Like Mirio was a perfect option for ofa. Why Izu? Not asking this to shit on him (I'm not Hori) but while Izu does work to make this quirk his...AM was putting pressure...he needs Izu to be the symbol of peace in a second.

Mirio already was a symbol or coming closer. Why not him?

What makes Izu special of ofa? It's bc am picked him and it's a good reason if we saw why am picked him. Am picked him way too quick.

One good and frankly suicidal mission was enough to make him his heir. Why? We will never know.

Again, not shitting on Izu. I wanted to see a reason as why Izu is worthy of ofa. But we don't. The relationship of am and Izu is ...no. Existent. Really make me think he picked Izu too quick and if nighteye wasn't himself...the ofa would go to Mirio.

Hi @mikeellee 👋 sorry for not answering this sooner!

Hmm interesting I would say mirio is naive with a dash of biases. Let me explain, what I mean is that Mirio believes that nighteye wouldn't do such a thing especially if it's towards someone he thinks is a friend. Mirio and nighteyes relationship is what I like to describe what nighteye wanted his relationship to be with all might in a way.

I don't think that Mirio is aware of nighteye's creepy behaviour as canon never alludes or implies it at all and Mirio someone who has a strong sense of righteousness and would probably be very irked if he found out about nighteye.

My theory is that due to all mights and nighteye's strained relationship all might didn't trust nighteye's input or decision so he may of left Mirio getting OFA as a last resort type of thing. However, you are right Mirio is basically perfect for the role especially if they wanted another mini all might in a hugely short span of time but I think the message was supposed to be that with society changing that another all might may actually harm society a lot more than do good for it. Now I think that if horikoshi actually allowed Izuku's character to go through proper development that izuku would be perfect in delivering that message however this idea doesn't hold much weight after Izuku's fight with shigaraki that parallels all mights kamino fight.

Also maybe Izuku reminded all might of himself so that's why he picked him. In reality how would all might really know that though??!?! All might and izuku bonding time is basically non existent in the manga or anime their relationship is also non existent. All might doesn't know much about izuku and neither does izuku. All might is a bad mentor and it's never brought up or used as a point to develop him and his relationship with Izuku.

Iam not sure what's so special about izuku for all might to pick him or why all might never picked Mirio. I remember a few years ago I saw a video talking about how in the overhaul arc we never actually got proof as to why izuku is the better candidate for OFA and i have to actually agree. Izuku never ended up differentiating himself from Mirio and frankly we don't even have any logical reasoning from all might as to why it was izuku himself. Or it's how he broke the bystander effect and wanted to help bakugo even though he couldn't do anything that maybe inspired him to help this kids dream of becoming a hero become a reality but oh well I guess we will never know the true answer.