#more bad memes from yours truly

[humanteethmarksonhumanbone]

excuse me sirs the middle of my lunch break is NOT the time for this

#more bad memes from yours truly #tmagp ep 3 #tmagp #blanched tomatoes #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #(kinda sorta) #violetbones.txt

[lord-squiggletits]

Idk who needs to hear this, but it's perfectly fine for you to pick up or drop your interests, hobbies, goals, etc throughout the years and it doesn't make you a quitter or mean that you're never going to do that thing again after you drop it. It just means that your interest wanes and waxes and nothing is ever permanent. You can always pick up something you love again even if it's been a while since you've done/practiced/progressed in it. And arguably you will burn yourself out faster trying to do 20 hobbies at once than you will if you just let yourself focus on a couple at a time.

#squiggposting #massive hypocrisy coming from me but i'm leaning #sometimes you can drop something that you made it a goal/promise to do #and it doesnt make you a bad person for quitting it just means your priorities chsnged #you dont have to be bound to the person/priorities you had in the past #as the wise meme once said if it sucks hit the bricks #you can always come back to it. it can be a pause rather than an end #nothing truly has to end. many things will still be waiting for you once youre ready #do what you must and more importsntly what you yearn to dl

[seastarlily]

“The SpongeBob team is putting in all these crazy faces just to try and make new memes, and that clearly hasn’t worked! There hasn’t been any memes of note since ‘Little Yellow Book’!”

SpongeBob after “Little Yellow Book”:

#Going Jellyfishing #SBSP #Screencaps #Memes #Inspired by a YouTuber who said that the LATEST SpongeBob meme was ‘Mocking SpongeBob’ from ‘Little Yellow Book’. #I really wish I was joking. I really do. But I’m not. He well and truly said this with his whole chest.🤦‍♀️ #My guy - have you even been paying attention lately? That is nowhere near the latest successful meme to come out of this show. #And even then - who’s to say that all memes have to involve a crazy face? Some memes came out as a result of acts of absurdity... #... like Mr. Krabs washing his boat in a rather skimpy get-up in ‘Burst Your Bubble’. #And dear God am I sick and tired of the ‘exaggerated expressions bad’ argument. The animators don’t really use them... #... as much as you think they do. They still save the more extreme ones for moments of extreme emotion... #... or major comedic segments. Besides I’d rather have characters express ‘too much’ instead of not enough. Especially after... #... the stiff snooze fest that was Seasons 6 through 8. That’s just me though.🤷‍♀️ #Anyways there HAVE been successful memes since ‘Little Yellow Book’ and these images are proof of that. End of discussion.✌

[hs-is-loml]

Ever Letting Go. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: while the f1 couples are slowly breaking up, fans are stressed and try to protect the last ferrari wag standing.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Angela Giakas

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads

a/n: this was extremely fun to make

all translations of french come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by selenagomez, harrystyles, charles_leclerc, and 1,591,728 others

yourusername here's two pics from my little vacation 🥰

view all 120,374 comments

welovey/n are you guys seeing all the tweets about charles and y/n?!

→ thatonebakucorner people are so funny 😭

→ pleasemarrymey/n the lightning mcqueen ones took me out

selenagomez always a beauty! 🤍

danielricciardo did you get me the wine i asked for?

→ landonorris not fair you were allowed to ask for something?!

→ yourusername yes, i got it, danny. and lando, quit whining you know i got you something too

childofdivorce is charles not with her??

→ ihavetrustissues he better be.

→ y/nismother istg those rumors better not be true

→ protectthewags if he's not, he's crying in a corner somewhere

whatacrossover not harry liking y/n's post knowing she's got a bf

→ y/nisaneed he's ready for when that crybaby messes up

→ gayforf1wags no, i think it was my turn next...

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,461,537 others

charles_leclerc guys, who do you think took the damn pictures of y/n anyways? besides that as if i would ever let y/n go. mon amour, c'est toi et moi pour toujours. (my love, it's you and me forever)

view all 195,182 comments

landonorris did you see the lechair tweet?😭

→ charles_leclerc oh, fuck off

→ carlossainz55 the lightning mcqueen ones were even better

→ charles_leclerc not you too, mate...

welovey/n charles fr said "my woman" when saw the tweets about harry stealing his girl

→ oneaddiction we know harry could if he wanted to tho...

→ charlesandy/nforever as if y/n isn't as down bad for charles as he is for her

yourusername i'll love you always, mon chéri❤️ (my darling)

→ liked by charles_leclerc and 1,596

scuderiaferrari our favourite couple!

pierregasly don't let charles fool you, he was starting to sweat when the harry styles liked y/n's post...

→ charles_leclerc i know where you are right now, and i'll come after you.

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, tchalamet and 1,941,979 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who was so worried about us on twitter and our insta comments. you guys are so incredibly funny, and you bet i showed that lechair guy all memes about him (he secretly loved it). charles and i are doing absolutely amazing! also here's some more pictures from our vacation together, he truly makes me the happiest, and i will forever be grateful for him❤️

view all 132,054 comments

yourusername p.s i got him the new watch from my story just for vacation lol... richard mille please do not come after my bf

landonorris ew couples🤢

danielriccarido you should've let them freak out more tbh

→ liked by yourusername and 237 others

y/n'ssecretlover the fact you guys were completely okay while the hashtag "savey/nandcharles" was trending on twitter 😭

carlossainz55 charles is still staring at your pictures, so give him a second to comment...

→ f1wags not carlos exposing charles, give the man a break

→ charlesstolenwatch fr stressing him out more than xavi during a race

charles_leclerc mon amour, thank you for always sticking with me ❤️

→ yourusername 💋💋

zendaya girl, i know how twitter gets, and they're insane

→ yourusername they make up the craziest things!

gayfory/n my praying worked.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc social media au #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc headcanon #fanfic #fluff #social media au

[xiao-come-home]

PLEASE PLEASE PPLLLEEEAAAASE GIVE ME HEADCANONS OF BOOTHILL WITH AN INSECURE CHUBBY S/O. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD SHOW EXTRA LOVE AND KILL ANYONE WHO MAKES FUN OF HIS BELOVED

Oh wow hehe twirls hair did you just call me out in this ask because its so me 🧐 some are a little sugg/estive but yea, you ask and I shall deliver 🙏

Boothill does not care that you're chubby at all - quite the opposite, he loves it! He genuinely thinks you look gorgeous, but most importantly, he's obsessed with hugging you and how soft you are! It gives him the fuzzy memories and reminds him how much he misses his old body.

Boothill does not tolerate yours or - aeons forbid - anyone else's bad comments about your body. Sure, he might laugh at some jokes you make, but once you take it too far, he gently reminds you that you're just as human as anybody else and should respect yourself! He won't judge you either, I mean - you're dating a cyborg, so if you love him for who he is in and out, he'll do the same.

Boothill might be a little too happy to touch your love handles at any occasion he gets. He's a little bit of a chubby chaser (like Itto, but it ain't about him) in the best way possible, he really likes to just... Grab stuff. Especially if it's about you.

Boothill might not be that good with words, but will always reassure you that he truly just loves you, regardless of how you think about yourself. Boothill will scoop you in his arms, kiss your cheek gently and wipe your tears if you truly feel down about your looks that day.

"Listen up, sweet pea," Boothill smiles at you softly, "all I can see is absolute perfection. Ya might not feel the same and it's fine - but I promise ya, pretty thing, I'll never get tired of seein' these beautiful curves."

He's definitely willing to prove his words with actions, though..

Try prying away Boothill from your thighs when he gets to them, I dare you. God, he loves, fuck, LOVES everything about your thick thighs. Having them as pillow, having his face squished between them... He jokes it's his only place to die the second time (💀). He just might go insane if you wear shorts that emphasize your revealed thighs.

He might just be laying between your thighs when he recharges. There's no reason to it, he's enveloped by two warm pillows and he's on cloud nine. Deal with it.

You may not notice, but Boothill sometimes just drools over you. If you're chubbier in the butt - he fights himself internally not to pull you from behind by your shorts against him and shamelessly grope you. Chubbier tits? He's almost barking when they spill from your bra. Chubbier stomach? God, the way some of your clothes stick to it, it makes his head dizzy. A little bit of everything? Good, he wants it all. Just sit on his face and stop talking.

Boothill might short-circuit when you sit on his lap for the first time because any aeons out there, this is heaven. Literally just marry him on the spot please. He isn't letting you go once you sit down. He's literally the "let's fucking go" meme afterwards.

You just have to slap away Boothill's hands in public from time to time because this man's hands slowly progress from just holding your waist, then firmly holding your hips, and traveling to finally hold your ass.

Though, when someone dares to speak something that makes you doubt yourself even more, let alone make you cry - things are going to get violent. Boothill won't let it slide, and on top of that, he's fucking pissed off. Boothill will hunt them in every lifetime.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #chubby reader #.anon thirst

[spacebarbarianweird]

Omg i love your Headcanon's but i especially love your spawn Batstarion please can you do a hc where he was truly feeling awful maybe a bad dream or bad day by rude people and Tav (reader) would just give him a spa day just for his bat form he is a purring and happy squeak mess later 🥺❤️

Gosh! It's such a hilarious headcanon I can't go past it.

Masterlist

Headcanons

You don't know how it works with other vampires, but Astarion's bat form is his stress-response.

It's his way to run away from himself, from nightmares, from horrors.

Even though he is fully conscious in the wild form, you suspect his perception of the world gets different once his tortured soul finds itself in the bat form.

You absolutely adore carrying Astarion in your hands, rubbing his head and stomach as he purrs loudly like a kitten.

Unfortunately, it's also his way of hiding.

If he doesn't turn back for a long time, you know his mind is really in a dark place, and he can't bring himself to face it as himself.

Usually, you start worrying if he stays like that for more than a day.

You start caressing his back, rubbing his ears, saying all the words of love you can think of.

Your voice becomes a lighthouse in the ocean of horrors that shows Astarion the way back.

This time, nothing helps.

It's three days of silence as Astarion flies in his bat form. When you try to talk to him, he barely acknowledges your existence.

Something is wrong, you know that.

So, you decide to take the action in your caring hands.

You order a bath in the inn where you are staying.

You undress and submerge in the hot water, holding Astarion to your chest.

You wash his wings and paws, making sure all your movements are soft and tender.

Rub his head and belly.

You get braver and start speaking all the sweet nonsense you can think of.

Usually, you are embarrassed to say these things because Astarion starts mocking you.

But since he's chosen to be silent you go all out.

How sweet he is, how much you love him.

His eyes are closed, and he purrs quietly as splashes more hot water over him.

"It would be much easier if you told me what's wrong," you finally say, seeing he isn't going to transform back.

You cup his body and press Astarionto your chest as you sit in silence in the bathtub slowly falling asleep.

Then you suddenly feel weight against your body.

Astarion, in his natural form, sits beside you, pressing his curled head to your chest.

"Hm, are you finally back?" You rub his sensitive ear.

"I- I was lost," he reluctantly admits. "My back hurt again, I thought it started bleeding and burning. And it was just too much. And the more I was in the bat form, the more difficult it was to return."

You tug him closer, making sure he is comfortable in your arms.

"But I've heard all these stupid things you told me," he chuckles.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herautumnmorningelegance

#spacebarbarian headcanon #batstarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion x reader #astarion and tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff

[calisources]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

[unbidden-yidden]

You know when this all started coming to light, I fully expected that leftists would try to downplay the horrific violence by acknowledging that it was "bad and our hearts go out to the victims and their families, but......" or by making a sharp distinction between civilians and soldiers (or even like, minors and adults), but the thing that's fucked me up is that nope! We sailed right past any attempt to even pretend at human decency and cut straight to "they deserved it."

Even the kids?? Yep, even the kids.

Like Jesus H. Christ y'all.

I'm used to people feeling like they need to at least gesture vaguely in the direction of giving a shit about Jewish lives and not justifying actual terror tactics and war crimes on civilians (you'd think for consistency's sake they might care about looking like they care for the credibility but..) even if we both know they really don't actually care about antisemitism in a meaningful way. We both know that they won't be there when it actually counts, and they sure as fuck aren't going to interrogate their own personal or group's antisemitism. But usually there's a fig leaf. There's at least a baseline assumption that they should care about antisemitism and Jewish people staying alive, even if they don't actually, so they'll say the minimum amount of correct sounding words and then quickly skedaddle onto whatever it is they actually care about.

And like, is that good? No, it's not. It's not good enough. I'm sick and fucking tired of people doing juuuuuust enough to pretend to care without ever addressing the real underlying issues.

But this? This totally floored me. This drops that baseline assumption that antisemitism and murdered Jews is a bad thing entirely and blatantly sides with literal actual terrorists committing unspeakable horrors while holding it up as "liberation."

And what's worse? Most of those were the further out fringe types (although there were a horrifying amount more than I expected) right? Most everyone else wasn't spouting off about how happy they were that vive la révolucion, right? You know what was really deafening?

The silence from everyone else.

Literally everyone except for maybe one or two gentiles I remember seeing kept their mouths shut. Everyone else? Not a goddamn word about how fucked up it was that people were crowing over our people's fresh corpses. The bodies hadn't even cooled yet and we had jackasses on here publicly celebrating with memes and gore videos, and not a word from 99.9% of you.

The people who did speak up? You have no idea how much it means, and I'm grateful. Truly.

Everyone else who was too gutless, spineless, or oblivious to realize how critical a moment this was for support and/or was more interested in protecting your image or whatever?

Let's just say: duly noted.

I may continue to work alongside you (what choice do I have?) but the trust is gone.

We're clearly on our own, with rare exception.

(This is a vent post I will not be adding any caveats to it and I will be blocking anyone who tries to be an asshole. I will lock reblogs if there's any discourse. Our lives are not up for debate you sick fucks.)

#gearing up for the ''k*ke kys'' asks in my inbox #but like #I already got some wild shit when posting my actual measured and serious posts instead of just venting #so idgaf #do your worst so I can report it and be done lmao

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Slip of The Tongue - Toge

Kinktober Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, smut,

A/n: back to make up for Kinktober day 6! Dubcon.

Word count: 1.5k

Read on ao3.

It had been a simple slip of the tongue, a mere faux pas, but the consequences had been explosive. 

“Fuck me,” Toge had said ― groaned more like, in frustration, promoted from his third loss at Mario kart against you. 

You turned toward him just in time to see his eyes widen, the realization of what he had done living there. 

Toge’s watery voice washed away all reason in your mind as you flung yourself at him, arms around his shoulders, and planted your lips over his. 

Toge had dipped under your weight, falling to the floor by his side as your hands plucked feverishly at his clothes. Toge had opened his mouth to gasp only to invite the aggressive wet of your tongue to brush and lap against his cursed one ― 

Your hands traveled south, curled around his belt ― 

Toge had torn his head away from you ―

“NO!”

The word, imbued with cursed energy, rippled over the room like a sonic wave. At his mercy, you froze. Toge's eyes darted across your face. His hands angled you back to your knees and off of him. 

The clouds obscuring your eyes waned. You blinked. 

“What?” Your brows creased. “What... What happened?”

Toge's answer came only in the hanging of his head as his hands shrunk away from your shoulders. You studied his face as realization came over yours. 

The last few seconds relayed in your mind. “Oh, god ― Toge, it’s okay ― I'm ―”

"Salmon." Toge scrambled to his feet and passed the door before you could halt him. 

You hadn't seen Toge since that fateful night, surely avoiding you. 

You sighed as your fingers dragged fog from your mirror. You knew he would blame himself. It was his fault; typically he knew better, the severity of the damage he could cause with a simple word always at the back of his mind. But three nights ago, he had 

You didn't care. You just wanted your friend back. 

“Does anyone know where he is?” You asked in the Jujutsu University lounge. 

Yuuta and Panda froze. Yuuta swallowed, toying with the hilt of his sword. 

“I ― um ― I don't know, (Y/n),” he said. 

You crossed your arms. “You're a bad liar, Yuuta.” 

“He's not lying,” Panda said. “Truth is, we haven't seen Toge in a few days. Not even a single text.”

You straightened your back. That was strange. Toge was a chatterbox in texts, what with it being the only safe way he could truly express himself. “What? Not even a meme?”

“Not one.” Panda shrugged. “He’s fine. I’m sure of it! You know how he can be sometimes.”

You would not be fooled, especially when you had an idea of where Toge had gone.

It was a place he and you had discovered and claimed for yourselves, one fateful evening exploring the city. 

The weight of Toge’s disappearance weighed on you as you approached the warehouse. Doubt and worry held your stomach taut. What if you were wrong? Maybe Toge hadn’t come here after all? 

You had to check. You walked inside, caution slowing every step. 

“Toge?” 

Quiet.

BANG

You startled; it was muffled, and most likely had come from several rooms over. You swallowed. You didn’t sense a curse ― not yet, anyway.

You followed the source of the sound, trembling down a series of stairs until you came to a lower, darker area of the abandoned warehouse. 

Sitting on the ground, faced away from you. 

“... Toge?” You murmured. You hardly had to ask; you knew.

Toge spun. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, as though sleep had eluded him for days.

“It’s okay …” You walked toward him. “Please, just tell me what happened ―”

He shot his arm out as he stumbled away from you.

“Toge, please ―”

He turned away. Vaguely, you wondered why he did not voice to stop you. Silence was all you were met with as you approached.

You reached out. Just the slightest bit of skin between your finger and his neck touched ―

He grabbed your offered arm and you fell against his lips.

Shock overcame you as Toge’s hands cradled your face. You opened your mouth to speak only for his tongue to bridge the gap and find yours. He opportunized your shock to part your mouth with his tongue. Your eyes widened as he sucked your tongue, rutting into you. You had done all it took to ignore the thought of Toge’s lips on yours since that, and now your diligence was forfeit as his lips moved against yours with a fervor you struggled to match. Before you knew it you were against the wall, Toge’s greedy, frantic hands venturing your body, desperate for a slight of naked skin. 

“Toge ―” Something’s wrong with him. “Toge!”

No use; his mouth won over your words. He earned himself a gasp from you as his hips jutted into you, hands kneading into your breasts. You were so overwhelmed you did not feel the straps of your top come down nor the way your panties now hung past your skirt, hooked over your wobbling knees.

You understood now; he had kept himself away to protect you.

But no one could do that now.

It didn’t matter how your cunt throbbed with every touch, how saliva ran your mouth to taste him, have him splitting you open. You had to stop him.

“Toge, I ―” You trembled as he nibbled the skin. Already, you could sense the darkening of the bruises that would be left there. The hand on the small of your back held you in place as you squirmed. “I ― I don’t know if I want this ―”

“Yes, you do.” Toge licked the shell of your ear, heated breath on your lobe. “Of course you do.” A hand slipped in between your legs without ceremony, his fingers finding evidence of his truth. He met your eye, his collar low enough to showcase his smirk. His expression challenged you: See how wet you are?

You understood as his will lay over yours. Your cunt throbbed with gratitude as Toge played with your wet folds. You bit yourself as two fingers slid with ease into your heat. Pretty violet eyes remained glued to yours, dared you to deny, to lie.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. 

Again and again, you had dreamed of this since Toge’s slip up had allowed you to taste him for the first time. The night you had gotten just a taste. Why couldn’t he have put his morals aside for one night? Why couldn’t he have just let you finish the job ―?

Now, Toge scissored you from within, palm rocking into your clit as you whined into his shoulder. Your arms came around him to keep him close. He panted beside you. A third finger tickled your folds before letting itself in to be eaten by your cunt. You reddened; juices leaked down your inner thigh. You rocked shamelessly against his fingers, hungry for the length of them along with his palm brushing your sensitive clit. You drew blood on your lip as a tightening behind your abdomen ―

Toge withdrew his fingers and you whined against the cold emptiness. He brought his fingers to his mouth to lick and suck your juices from them, a moan stuck in his throat as he savored your taste. 

Another blink and you were on the ground. Shafts of sunlight from the poorly-boarded up roof warmed your skin as Toge toppled you. You shivered as the trails his tongue made left cool tracks over your heated skin. How long would he be like this? Panic jolted you, arched you into Toge’s frenzied hold. No one knew the two of you were here. And he wouldn’t let you go. How long would the effects of whatever Toge faced last? How long would he use you? The fearful thrill went straight to your aching cunt.

“Don’t move.”

Your body obeyed. Toge knuckled your panties and slid them down to bunch at your ankles. Toge faced you as he settled himself between your legs, beautiful violet eyes dilated by madness. Already, his hips rutted against you, erection probing you ― alleviated only by Toge freeing his cock and with a growl fixing to enter you.

Toge slipped a thumb into your mouth as he sank into you. “Suck,” he ordered, voice watery and reverbed ― and hoarse from the squeeze of your walls. He whined as you suckled his thumb. Your body bounced with his quick, unfiltered pace. Toge kissed down your jaw, pants huffing against your skin.

“Aah …” His face strained. Slap, slap, slap went his hips into you. He forced your hands over your head to possess you fully. “So good …!”

You were too worked up to withstand his bestial pace. Toge licked the shell of your ear before slipping his tongue into your canal ― 

“Cum.”

He ordered it, but he didn’t need to; you were already convulsing around him, his voice command adding another layer of chaos to your climax, doubling it, tripling it. Your eyes rolled back as your screams were muffled with Toge’s mouth. Your cunt overran with warmth but, as one command overcame the other, you wrapped arms and legs around Toge to prevent him from leaving.

When you were too weak to hold Toge to you, he pulled out. He stared at you from above, flushed face, spittle ran down his cheek. You watched him through heavy-lidded eyes.He surveyed the damage he had done.

And, apparently, felt nothing as he dragged you by your legs toward him to ruin you again.

#jjk smut #toge smut #toge x reader #toge x you #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #kinktober

[rxzennia]

leviathan of the cosmos

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 something unto death as the respawning boss enemy, i haven’t finished 2.1 yet

when aventurine brings up traveling to the reverie hotel in the dreamscape alone, your eyes narrow ever so slightly and you take a step towards him. though you do truly worry for him, you can’t deny that you also want to take a peek at the off-limits-to-visitors area for yourself, too.

he’s been keeping you away from conflict, away from the dangerous games he plays on the daily, but you want to know. you want to see all that he is, his feats and evils, not just what he decides to show you. and if it means following him into the dreamscape, you won’t shy away from your quest of knowledge.

he doesn’t want you to enter the dreamscape reverie with him, but you’re very, very stubborn

“it’s dangerous for you,” he says, giving you the most serious look you’ve ever seen on him, like he’s genuinely concerned (he is)

you tilt your head. even without saying anything, he knows what you’re trying to say – you don’t understand where he’s coming from

he tries to explain, boy, he’s trying so hard to explain to you why exactly it’s a bad idea, but he feels like he’s talking to a wall

are you even listening? hello? 

he can’t see your expression because your scarf is in the way, and your eyes betray nothing

for as much as he loves talking at you, this is the one time he wants you to give him a response

“you’re strong enough.” a statement, not a question, because this man is one of the ten stonehearts, and you know he has more power than he appears to have

well, yes. but, to be honest, he isn’t confident in his ability to protect you

death is a dangerous entity, and even if he’s certain he can hold his own against it…

what if it decides that you are its next target? you, who is so precious and lovely?

he doesn’t want to run the risk. he likes having you around, both as a friend and as a secretary, and the last thing he wants is to lose you

but you’re adamant. “there’s nothing to worry about,” you say, oblivious to all the worries running miles per second in his head

he feels like if he didn’t let you tag along, you’d just follow him anyway and that would be even worse

aventurine thinks he knows you well, perhaps even better than yourself, but turns out he’s just delusional. you’re so timid, so awkward, and when you’ve warmed up to him you’re still silent and brooding most of the time, how could he have known that you have so many cards hidden up your sleeve?

he’s just dealt with a few scattered crew from the dreamjolt troupe, but he might’ve made a little too much noise when he whacked the televisions

it feels like the entire floor’s enemies are attracted by the noise, even memory zone memes are showing up

he glances towards you, who’s doing a really good job at staying out of his way and avoiding attacks

way better than he expected

you don’t seem afraid, either. he can tell that you’re relaxed from your body language

one thing he’s worried about, though, is eventually attracting death 

because that’s the one thing he’ll try his best to protect you from, but he isn’t certain if he can

he doesn’t think you can fight, and your lack of inclination towards conflict only reinforced that belief

sure, you’re built like a fortress and you’re intimidating, but he soon found out that you’re a big softie inside

which, even more unlikely that you can fight. you just feel so… vanilla

you feel like the type who’d try to de-escalate a situation that could otherwise be easily solved with fists

even if you look like your punches would send people into orbit, it's just so out of your character 

he likes that about you, really, but sometimes he wished you have some combat skills

when death inevitably appears, aventurine’s heart drops. it completely ignores him and heads straight for you – perhaps it knows who’s stronger or weaker – its wing rearing back as it coils around you, picking you up by your scarf, and –

he goes pale. he immediately acts, invoking qlipoth’s protection

but he knows how swift death is, and how easily it will lay its claws upon you and take you from him

the shield he casts on you is easily broken in one, two, three slashes

does death penetrate armor? it doesn’t quite make sense – the kind of shield he confers should not have been so easily broken!

before he could even do anything, before he could even tell you how much he treasured you…

you’ll be gone, and he’ll be all alone again

he hates that. and you know he hates that, but what could either of you do?

for as far as he’s come, he’s still powerless to protect the ones he hold dear

he tries, he really does, but his attacks won’t reach death in time, nor will his shield reach you in time

it’s dead set on taking your life, and it’s going to succeed

damn it, he should’ve just forced you to stay in the reverie in reality, or the golden hour, or something

he’d take your annoyance over watching your symbolic “death” any day

he reaches for you – in a fit of desperation, he tries to grab onto you, your scarf, anything

you blink, watching as death’s claws withdraw, and as it swings its blade-laden scythe wing towards you. you seem shocked, but you close your eyes as you welcome the darkness.

the darkness known as your leviathan. 

your white scarf sits perfectly around your neck, and your nose is still comfortably buried in the fabric

but there’s no mistaking it; it’s yours

the serpent emerging from the ends of your scarf, who wrapped around the monster known as something unto death, whose translucent body wound around it until it is no longer visible, who made it disappear…

it obeys you, holy shit, that creature obeys you

but you’ve always seemed so harmless, so sweet, so, so… so innocent

how could someone like you harbor something so terrifying?

yet here you are, swallowing the memetic entity with a gulp, like you’re simply swallowing down your food

you’re eating – no, you’ve eaten death

your leviathan settles into your scarf again, its form dissipating as if it had never existed at all

so simply, so effortlessly, disposing of it as if it’s naught but a mere worm

aventurine stares, at where death once loomed, and then at you, who looks completely fine. he stammers your name, and for the first time, he feels a primal fear in him. it’s different to the fear of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll still be alive tomorrow, or of being left behind again. it’s a fear more powerful, a fear stemming from coming face to face with someone perhaps even more dangerous than everyone he’s encountered on penacony. the fear of prey before the apex predator on the food chain.

his gentle giant of a secretary all of a sudden doesn’t seem so gentle anymore

he can’t really tell what exactly it is hiding in your scarf, but he has an inkling

before he can make a guess, you interrupt his line of thinking

“bleh…” you cringe in disgust, your face scrunching up as you stumble to find refuge on a nearby couch

never mind, he'll take that back

honestly, you don’t look like someone to be afraid of right now

you look like you’re about to collapse, with how pale you’re getting and how you’re almost retching up your lunch behind your scarf

which you are. the only thing stopping you is the physical aspect of being unable to

he pushes his fear aside, and finds it surprising easy to do so

in fact, it’s so easy that he could almost find your reaction hilarious

if you didn't look like you're three seconds away from keeling over

“you, you didn’t just–” he approaches you slowly, kneeling down by your side, “aeons, you look sick.”

you want to give him a reply, but the sheer flavor of the meme you just swallowed makes you so queasy that you think you might puke the moment you try to speak

his hands slowly reach up to hold your face, “will you be okay?” he asks, quiet and careful

you nod, relaxing into his touch, and he can feel you turn to lean against his palm even through the fabric that obfuscates your face

how are you still so adorable when you’ve just consumed the entirety of death?

you’ve never revealed much about yourself, and you’ve been the biggest mystery aventurine has been itching to solve. but at this stage, he isn’t too sure if he wants to find out anymore. you, your path, your abilities… you’ve been hiding them all, under that guise of innocence.

then again, he’s the one who made assumptions and decided to keep you away from conflict

he still feels cheated, just with no one but himself to blame 

he wants to believe that you’ve been genuine with him! that your personality, at least, isn’t fake

you’re doing a really good job at reassuring him

well, maybe because you’re experiencing indigestion on a couch in the dreamscape after eating something that looks decidedly inedible

it doesn’t feel like you’re lying to him at all, with the way you’re behaving 

when the nausea goes away just enough for you to speak, the first thing you say is a string of curses

and “i really hope i don’t get food poisoning”

it gets silent very quickly, and you two stare at each other

“i… i don’t think food poisoning is what you should be worried about right now,” he manages to say, suppressing the urge to just chuckle, because this is his confirmation that you’re still his favorite secretary

it takes you a while before you let out a very, very quiet mumble of “please don’t fire me.”

aventurine has never expected that to come out of your mouth. “what? why would i fire you over something like this?” he raises a brow, and he’s just as relieved as you are when your shoulders sagged. “i’m just glad you’re okay…”

he tries to lift you up, and you give him an a+ for effort, even if he ends up failing. you lean onto him, letting him carry half of your weight while you try to stand.

“c’mon, let’s get you out of here. you need to rest,” aventurine says, in the most happy, truly grateful way you’ve ever heard him speak. “but, after that? you have a lot of explaining to do.”

#ares's voracity pathstrider tales #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader

[humanteethmarksonhumanbone]

#more bad memes from yours truly #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #gwendolyn bouchard #tmagp meme #violetbones.txt

[saltymongoose]

ohh my goodness. i've been waiting to send these until requests were open bc i wanted to hear ur thoughts.

might be a little silly, but consider: matching outfits. player gathers clothing materials!! and coordinates outfits one day on missions!!!! even makes props!!! hijinks ensue. idk if this had already been disscussed before, but thank you for your time and consideration, ily. you are so cool <<3333!!!!!!! everything you make is so scrumptious!!!!! <33

Omg, thank you, this is so nice of you!!! :D ❤❤❤❤ I love this art so much, you have no idea - the way you portray the boys here fits so well (as always lol). And the memes too omg!! I can't even put it into words to be honest with you, these are just excellent. I do feel slightly bad for that random grunt though, something tells me they'll be sleeping with one eye open after seeing that lmao.

(Also, thank you so much for the compliments too of course, you're far too kind. (˶⸃ ⴰ⸃˶)♡ I could say the same to you btw; your art is always just *chef's kiss* perfection.)

Anyhow, I've actually thought a bit about this scenario before, but this just inspired me, so I wrote some short hcs for you. Hope you like them! <3:

The Player Matches Outfits with Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned knew that you had been working on a little project - one that you tried to keep as secret as possible. He was curious, but not enough to encroach on whatever boundary you set regarding it. All he knew from your rather lackadaisical explanation was that he'd be very surprised when he saw. And, well, he was.

The first conscious thought in 2BDamned's head is the question of how you've managed to make a mask that looks so similar to his without borrowing the original. It's really spot on; the seams are in the exact same place, and even if yours has to have been configured differently to fit your more human facial features, the silhouette is exactly the same.

(In the end, he concludes that you simply must've studied his appearance for a while to truly replicate his mask, which makes him feel almost giddy in a way he might've deemed embarrassing before meeting you. But now he's just overcome with happiness that you were obviously interested enough in him to do this.)

He openly praises your skill in sewing, knowing that grunt clothing is ordinarily much too large for you. And you'd notice how the fondness he holds for you seeps into the words, his gaze lingering on you in a way that left you feeling warm.

If you could see underneath his own mask, you'd be able to see the smile he was unable to bite back as well, and the flush that he'd try to will away otherwise. And while he is incredibly impressed (and happy) at what you've managed to put together, he will mention that you could also borrow his actual things once in a while, if you feel so inclined. He just happens to think one of his own jackets might suit you too.

(Of course, he doesn't miss the chance to lean real close to adjust your mask as he says this either, just to fluster you even more. You really have no idea how cute you are, especially looking like this.)

- [DEIMOS] -

A full minute of unintelligible sputtering leaves Deimos' lips the moment he sees your new outfit, and you laugh at the way his face goes bright red. When you said you had a surprise, this was one of the last things he expected.

Luckily for him, he's able to quickly gather his composure, and his excited ramblings turn into smooth flirts that'll leave you blushing instead of him. Expect all sorts of comments about how cute you looked dressed up like him, and praises about how you look even better in his fit than he does.

He insists on taking a ton of pictures together, and you can bet he keeps his favorite in his wallet. (It's one of your faces smushed together as you both grin at the camera, making a heart with your hands.)

He considers this a total power-couple thing; matching shirts are so low-effort compared to this, if anything it shows you perfect you are together. Although there is one thing he'd help you change from your original DIY version of his outfit - those sheet-metal dog tags you made can't compare to the real thing in his opinion, so why don't you just use one of his instead?

Also, don't think he won't take advantage of the fact that you both are the only ones with headsets. Even if yours isn't functioning (because let's be honest, finding one in working condition would be difficult), he'll fix it up quickly just so he can talk more directly to you during missions. And whenever else he wants to, to the irritation of the other three.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford would consider his outfit to be fairly standard, but he recognized that you were emulating him the moment you slid the sunglasses on. And he couldn't stop the goofy smile from splitting his face when he realized it either, not even attempting to hide his amusement at what you've done.

(He only gets visibly happier when you 'threateningly' brandish your wire hook in his direction. You really put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?)

While Sanford has the amount of restraint in him to not openly brag about you doing this, he can't deny the rush of satisfaction he gets from seeing you in what is an unmistakable homage to him. If you look closely, you'll see him straighten up in pride whenever you come into view. (It's almost like preening, really. If he weren't so flushed, perhaps you'd think it to be more of an ego thing, but no.)

Although, he does show a little bit more concern about some aspects of your outfit. Like your boots, for example; he can't count the number of times he's gotten blisters while breaking in his own, so you should expect him to ask you if you need any plasters (or help bandaging yourself as well).

(If you decide to accept his offer, you'll find yourself questioning whether he ever officially trained as a medic before. He surely has the gentleness befitting of one, shown in how he carefully cleans your wounds and softly applies the ointment, his calloused fingers gently smoothing over the plasters on your Achilles heels afterward. Although you have the slightest suspicion that this tenderness from him is known only to you.)

Sanford will also make it part of his routine to pluck your glasses from your nose and clean them after he does his own. Afterward, he'll slowly lean in when he places them back on you to make sure he doesn't poke you in the eye. Neither of you mention that you could do it yourself, or that his decision to slide them back onto the bridge of your nose himself was highly unnecessary. Maybe he just does it to get a better look at the way you blink up at him and blush, or perhaps it's for some other reason, who's to say? Either way, you have no complaints.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Your laughs are muffled under Hank's hands as he cups your face, tilting it up to look closely at you. His excitement at your new look is almost palpable; you can easily tell from how he's shaking and hurriedly looking over, his gaze never stopping on one spot for longer than a second. He just wants to take in everything about your new look, is all.

He'll almost insist on doing a mission with you wearing it, not only because the idea sounds fun to him (with his love of carnage and all), but also because it provides an excellent opportunity to rub in everyone else's faces that you chose to copy his outfit. Not theirs.

In a way, he also becomes just a tad more doting than usual. He busies himself with dusting you off, and adjusting your goggles and the lapels of your coat whenever another skirmish is finished. It's his way of checking you over and making sure your hard work wasn't damaged either.

(Plus, he'd hate it if this instance of you copying him was cut short because of some worthless grunts' attempts at harming you.)

You'll catch him sticking closer to you than usual too, and he does so for multiple reasons. First is that he just prefers to be near you whenever he can anyway (the warmth of your presence is one of his favorite things, and it gives ample opportunity to show off around you), but now there's also the fact that your outfit will freak out your enemies. As you can imagine, he enjoys that immensely, and what better way to improve this experience than to have his Player join him?

In a way, Hank also sees this as a sort of 'claim' you've put on yourself too. Wearing your significant other's clothing is kind of a thing with some grunts, and while he knows they aren't really his clothes, there's still some of that same sentiment there that makes him purr just a bit louder whenever he sees you in that new outfit of yours. It tells the world you're his in some way, even if not officially. So why wouldn't he be happy about that?

#tw: yandere #ily2 my guy <3 #other's art #meow-mp3 #fav <3 #my writing #(in addition to the art) #samau #self aware m:pn au #yandere hank j. wimbleton #yandere 2bdamned #yandere deimos #yandere sanford #madness combat x reader #yandere madcom #yandere madness combat #hank j. wimbleton x reader #2bdamned x reader #deimos x reader #sanford x reader

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ex-husband!Matsukawa Issei x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: Okeidohan (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 6521

>contents: angst w/ a happy ending, reader on a date with an unnamed oc, alcohol mentions (minor), mattsun being a lil cocky and a lil toxic and a lot possessive, (barely there) hanamaki cameo, brief slut-shaming(ish) moment from reader’s date, fingering (f!receiving), talks of masturbation, squirting, creampie, (minor) breeding kink, multiple orgasms, (minor) overstimulation

there were few things in this life that truly, unequivocally irritated you: traffic, gross coffee, and your ex-husband were a few of the major ones that came to mind. it’d been 8 months since you officially became a “ms.“ again and not “mrs. matsukawa,” and yet the man you’d said your vows to still managed to irk your every nerve. sending you silly memes, calling to talk about his day, offhand flirty comments in your ear like you were still together. it was all so damn maddening.

it was funny, actually, how much he continued to bother you when he was the one who wanted the divorce in the first place. it devastated you, shattered you, when it happened. no one expects for their husband to come home, sit them down and tell them, “this isn’t working anymore.” you didn’t understand at first, how he could say such a thing, when everything felt perfectly fine. but he “wasn’t truly ready” for this and he was “sorry, so sorry for hurting you.” you asked if it was a cover story- if he’d really just been cheating on you and couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his mistress, but he denied the allegations through and through. it almost made it worse, then, that it wasn’t a matter of him falling for another, but just him simply not wanting to be your husband anymore. it ruined you for months, cost you sleep and so many “sick days” from work that you’d almost lost your job. but after a while, you knew you had no choice other than to accept it, move on, get yourself back together again.

moving on is what you’re trying to do right now, actually. seated in a booth at a low lit restaurant, you laugh as the man in front of you tells some story about an outraged lunatic of a client he recently had to deal with at his job. he’s pleasant- easy on the eyes, very sweet, and a real gentleman. it’s your first date with him, your fourth since the divorce, and it was going well so far. it’d been a long time since you were on the scene, only having been married to issei for just over a year, but the two of you had dated for almost 3 before he proposed. it was difficult at first, to dip your toes back into the proverbial dating pool, but you were handling it nicely. the first few men that you’d gone out with ended up not working out, obviously- all for different reasons- but this one wasn’t too bad.

he’s pouring more sake into your glass when you see something familiar out of the corner of your eye, something that makes your heart want to choose between stopping or beating straight out of your chest. you try to calm yourself, tell your brain to stop playing tricks on you and that you’re just seeing things, but then you realize that you aren’t, that you can’t lie to yourself. there’s a mess of black hair on a tall figure, one with their back towards you only briefly before they turn around and you see a face you hadn’t quite expected to see today, let alone here in the restaurant your date chose.

it’s issei, it’s your ex-husband, it’s the man who tore your poor little heart into pieces, right in front of your eyes. you’ve never been terribly religious but you are right now, silent prayers sent up that he hadn’t noticed you- hadn’t noticed that you’re here on a date.

it’d been a few weeks since you’d seen him, when he called about some mail of yours that got sent to his home- your last address. he was as vexing as he usually was, telling you that if you’d wanted it, you’d better come get it soon before it ended up in the trash, so of course you’d hopped into your car later that evening after work. it was a dirty trick, you’d realized in retrospect. issei was an ass but he wasn’t so terrible that he’d throw your stuff away. however, he was so terrible that he’d convince you to hurry to his home under a guise so that he could (attempt to) entice you in with talks of a new bottle of sake. he was shameless, well and truly shameless, but you were unmoved, denying his offer with thanks for it, for keeping your mail out of the trash as you collected the envelopes and walked right back out.

you’re trying your best- to not alarm your date, to not draw issei’s attention, to not have a goddamn brain aneurysm. your date is asking you about your own line of work and you begin to explain, a welcome distraction from the situation at hand. you spare a glance in the direction that your ex-husband was seated- not alone but with his pink-headed best friend, another man you’ve known for too many years, and you find yourself having to look immediately in the opposite direction. issei’s looking at you, they both are, albeit with different expressions on their familiar faces. hanamaki’s is a little stunned, it seems that your look in their direction confirmed to him that it is you, but the other… the man you used to be married to has a head tilted in curiosity, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips that you hate to see right now. fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

you give your date a small smile, excusing yourself to the restroom as you grab your purse, willing yourself to walk as normally as you can even though you want to bolt. you’re relieved to be alone in the space, fingers gripping the edge of the sink as you stare into your own eyes. “this can’t be fucking happening..” you say to yourself, but you know that’s a falsehood to keep calm. you take a moment to breathe in deep, wet a paper towel with some cool water to dab on your neck and chest.

it’d been a few minutes and you don’t want the man you’re seated with to be concerned, so you do your best to get it together quickly and make your way back out to the dining area. only you can’t do that, because as you leave the bathroom, your exit is blocked by the lanky nuisance you call your ex-husband. you’re frozen, stopped dead in your tracks at the unexpected roadblock of a man. neither of you speak, your eyes set on his face as his own roam your figure, and you almost regret wearing a dress so formfitting, so low-cut.

“hey, babe,” issei finally says, a picture of smugness and it has your eyes rolling, moving to brush past him but no, no, he won’t let you.

“i am absolutely not doing this with you right now. what are you even doing here? what do you want?” you ask, exasperation evident in your tone.

“what, i can’t even say hi now? see you’re on a date- quite the looker, too. not as much as me, though, that’s for sure.” you’re in disbelief- real, unbridled disbelief at the man before you. there’s just no way he’s serious right now! first, he rudely blocks your path, but now he’s taken to belittling your innocent date?

“you are something else, issei,” you snort, shaking your head, “you do remember that you’re the one who wanted me to sign those papers, right? not the other way around. now if you’ll excuse me, i have a date to get back to. and don’t- don’t do anything stupid.” you slip away before he can say anything else, relaxing your face so as to not raise any questions as you sit back in your seat. you apologize for the delay, reaching for the menu and asking your date what kind of meal he plans on ordering.

an uneventful bit of time passes and you’re fine again, sharing more sake and offering food from each other’s plates to try. you almost forget about the intrusion from a little while ago, keyword there being almost. every now and then you can see issei in your peripheral vision, and damn near every time, his eyes are on you. it’s hard to ignore but you’re doing it, until the last time you look and he’s much, much closer. your eyes widen and you’re subtly shaking your head at the man, but it’s too late, his mind is made up and he approaches your table with a wink that only you can see.

“oh, hey! it’s crazy seeing you here,” issei starts, and the way your name falls from his lips is far too familiar, far too cordial for your taste. “another date already? thought we’d had a good time the other night, i know i did. i mean, we practically broke my bed frame. hey pal, just a warning but this one gets crazy in bed- a real nasty girl, i’m tellin’ ya.” your date looks absolutely appalled, scandalized even, but issei..issei is fucking beaming. there’s revulsion in your date’s eyes and you’re not sure who it’s directed to, you or the bastard that intruded so tactlessly- so offensively. it’s probably both, you think- probably disgust at his learning of your supposed promiscuity, and at issei’s attempt to give him “pointers” about things you like in the bedroom. he gives you no chance to explain, muttering to himself that he should’ve known you were a slut and he’s rising from his chair despite your pleas, your denial of issei’s words. you sadly watch him walk out of the door, and that’s it. he’s gone.

you resign yourself to a literal facepalm, tossing your cloth napkin onto the table as you stare at issei in contempt. “you have some fucking nerve. are you happy now? that i’m alone? is that what you wanted?” you don’t even give him the time to formulate a response before you’re pulling money from your wallet and placing it on the table. you’re not even sure how much the bill is, but you leave more than enough in your haste to remove yourself from this situation. you sling your purse and jacket over your arm and stomp your way out of the restaurant, trying hard to avoid the gaze of nosy onlookers as a few salted streaks leave your eyes. you stand outside, plans gone horribly awry, and your despair grows as you can’t even remember where the hell you parked your car. you realize, when you hear the sound of footsteps approaching, that you’re not alone in the chilled evening air. there’s no second thought as you whip around, black of your eyeliner smudged and wrath in your wide eyes, to see your ex-husband.

“was divorcing me not enough? was leaving me, when i wanted nothing but to be with you, to-to make it work, not fucking enough? i mean, fuck, what is this really about? if you don’t want me then no one should? it feels like you’re punishing me when i did nothing to you- nothing to deserve this. all i ever did, issei, was love you, support you, show you my devotion- and this is the thanks that i get? a divorce i didn’t want and loneliness.” you laugh sardonically, and issei sighs with a shake of his head as he steps towards you. you don’t step away, don’t retract yourself from him, acceptance of what feels like defeat unmissable in your sagged shoulders.

“i didn’t know that i’d see you here tonight- didn’t know i’d see you out with somebody else. i..cant describe the feeling i’d gotten in my stomach when i saw you with him, laughing with him like you used to laugh with me, smiling at him like you used to smile at me. nausea, i guess. jealousy- no, envy, if you really want me to be honest. i envied that man in a way i’ve never felt before.” you look up at him with red-rimmed eyes, taciturn and short-tempered as you are, but you allow him to continue. out of curiosity or something else- something deeper, you don’t know.

“the divorce- the biggest mistake i’ve ever made, was never about me not wanting you. this, tonight? this was never about me not wanting you. did i go about it the wrong way? yeah, yeah i did and i’m not proud of it. that was cruel, and i’m sorry, but i’ve been trying. maybe not hard enough, maybe not in the right ways, but, shit, i’ve been trying, baby. i’ve tried with the phone calls, i’ve tried to get you to come over and stay- just for a minute, just so i can tell you how bad i know that i fucked up. you were-you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me and i was too selfish and immature- thought that if i let you go, i wouldn’t be holding you back. but i can’t pretend anymore, i can’t lie to myself and say that i don’t want you back every fucking day that i wake up. being married to you was the best time of my life by a long shot. seeing a face this beautiful everyday, getting to laugh with you, eating every meal with you, pulling you in close when you’d steal the blankets ‘cause you were cold- you were always so cold at night- i miss it all. i miss you whenever i do anything ‘cause you were always there. you’re always a part of me, even when you’re apart from me. and i don’t want you to be apart from me anymore.”

your eyes feel heavy, almost as heavy as your heart, and you swallow thickly. his own eyes look sincere- a plea in the darkness that crushes you under its weight. there’s two parts of you- one pushing, one pulling. one that wants to leave him standing here, leave him in the emptying street just like he left you. but the other part- the stronger part, the one that loves him so intensely, that made him hot tea and soup when he was sick, that ugly-cried at his vows on your wedding day, that part wants you to stay. you stare at him for a long moment, battle between love and loathing waging inside of you.

“you’re…an idiot. you know that, right?”

issei doesn’t know whether to frown or to jump for joy. you are insulting him, sure, but you’re also still actually speaking to him. he considers it a good thing. he scratches the back of his neck, nervous huffs of laughter escaping through his nose.

“yeah, i know, babe. i’m an idiot who needs you, though.” you roll your eyes, a fond smile on your face. issei’s stepping closer to you, his large hands gentle as they wrap around your waist. it’s a strange feeling, to be held by him like this. it’s one you’d felt so many times over the years and then very suddenly not at all, not until now. you miss it.

your eyes are wide, full of hope when issei leans down, lips so close to yours. “come home,” he says softly, “need you home, need you with me.” he doesn’t give you time to answer, though, because his lips are fully on yours. he kisses you so lovingly, so longingly that it steals your breath right from your lungs. one of his hands comes up to cup the side of your face and he tilts your head just how he wants you, tongue unfaltering as it prods its way between your lips. he soaks up the way you sigh into the kiss, the way your hands find shelter on his biceps, the way you’re still as teasing as you were before- teeth catching his lip as you giggle.

you pull away from the kiss first, cheek warm against issei’s palm and you blink up at him. “take me home, ‘sei.” he grins, something triumphant in his eyes as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder, your laughter and shouts of protest being ignored by the tall man.

it’s only a short minute before you’re in issei’s car, on your way back to issei’s home. the ride isn’t long either, but it is full of tension. issei drives with one hand on your thigh the whole time, and when he has to stop, he’s leaning over to catch your lips again. you think this is what deja vu must feel like, because it just feels so familiar to be here- in issei’s car with his fingers splayed out on your thigh, in the driveway of a place you called home for so long. he smiles at you after he puts the car in park and takes the keys from the ignition, quickly exiting so he can open your door and usher you inside the house.

there’s a hand on your lower back as you enter the house, and the nostalgia of it all hits you harder. so many times had you come home like this after a night out, issei’s greedy hands touching you anywhere he felt like touching. those nights often ended with him between your thighs, or behind you, or- you have to blink the thought away as you feel your cheeks flushing, feel issei’s gaze on you. he sinks down to his knee, dark eyes still on yours and you gasp when he takes a hold of your calf. his fingers are reverential, worshipping as they glide across your skin to wrap around your ankle. he pulls your heel off, kisses your calf, and repeats the process on the other side. when he rises back to full height, he leaves a fleeting kiss on your lips and takes your hand, guiding you to the kitchen.

there you were, glass full of sake in hand as you sit on the counter. issei isn’t far, leaned back against the counter just to the left of you, smile on his face as he rambles tipsily. you have to admit, you’re only half paying attention, more stuck on the way that he licks his lips, the way that he cuts his eye to look over at you when he thinks you don’t notice. you sip your drink, mischievous glare behind the glass as your free hand creeps to meet his on the counter. he’s startled out of his rambling, looking down to see your hand on his, and when he looks back up at you, all he can do is grin. he sits his own glass down before stepping in front of you, hands caging you in on either side of your hips. he’s so obvious, so extraordinarily lacking in subtlety, with how his eyes linger on your plump pout, on the oh-so-perfect way your tits threaten to spill out of your dress. he ogles for a moment before he locks eyes with you again, and god, he can’t believe he let someone as beautiful as you go for even a second. the way you stare at him- so enamored and forgiving and lustful, he truly thinks it could drive a man crazy.

“‘m never lettin’ you go again, baby, never gonna fuck up that bad again,” he murmurs against your lips. your eyes slip shut and his nose nudges yours when he leans in all the way, lips gliding over each others in a kiss laden with desperation and yearning. his hands move to your hips and yours are on his shoulders, the two of you in something like a competition to see who can pull the other closer. your lips are so sweet to him, your tongue much like a lollipop that he wants to suck on all day. you’ve always tasted good, every little part of you, and issei’s been without his fill for too long now. the little sighs and soft whimpers that leave your lips are icing on the metaphorical cake that is kissing you.

“lemme make it up to you, baby,” he groans in between exchanges of saliva, “can i show you how sorry i am, hm? show you how much i missed you?”

you nod, unwilling to remove your lips from issei’s when he bites at your lip like that and it’s okay because he doesn’t need you to. his hands leave your hips in favor of sliding down your thighs, stopping when he reaches the hem of your dress. you’re a smart girl, don’t even need him to tell you to plant your hands on the counter and lift your ass and thighs up a bit so he can shove your dress up and your pretty little thong down.

the kitchen counter is cool against the skin of your thighs, a stark contrast to how warm issei’s palms are as they spread your legs apart. he separates from your mouth with a smack, gossamer strings of one another’s spit keeping you connected, and rests his forehead on yours. his fingers finally find treasure between your legs, fingertips already sticky as they sweep up and down your slit. you suck in a sharp breath, eyes not leaving his while he toys with your cunt.

“this pretty pussy still gets so wet for me. did you ever think about me? when you were with those other guys? did you get wet like this for them?” he gives you no warning as he plunges his middle and index fingers inside you, eyes squeezing closed in a long blink while your jaw falls open. he sets an unwavering pace, hand on your thigh coming up to cup your chin. his stare feels like an interrogation, so confident in his ability to pick you apart in every way possible. he’d know if you lied, could see it in your eyes and feel it with the pads of his fingers buried in your oozing cunt.

“i, f-fuck, i didn’t fuck a-anyone else, ‘sei,” you whimper, “only wanted you- only get this wet f-for you.” issei groans at your words, grip on your chin so tight as he forces you into another searing kiss. his fingers don’t slow their pace, thumb coming up to press down on your clit as his tongue rolls across yours- over your teeth and lips.

“that’s my girl. i didn’t either, baby, couldn’t even think about it. just kept fucking my fist to the thought of you, how pretty you look suckin’ me off or cummin’ on my cock.” the needy moan you let out has issei straining in his pants, and shit, is he wrecked for you already. he’s obsessed- with you and the pretty faces you make, with the way you whine his name, with how you clench and throb and gush around his fingers. he’s utterly intoxicated by every little thing that you have to offer, and he drinks it up greedily.

issei knows practically everything about you, so it’s no surprise that he remembers exactly how to find it- that cushiony little place inside you that makes you cry out when he presses against it. he’s so cruel, so abusive to your g-spot, pushing his fingers deep inside you to hit that button over and over again. he knows when you’re close, too, knows how you leak and flutter around whatever he’s got inside of you.

“‘sei, please,” you whine, voice hoarse and shaky with need. your fingernails are digging into his shoulders as he looks up from where his hand disappears inside of you to meet your eye. he steals another quick and sloppy kiss from you, hammering his fingers inside of you so hard that you can’t help your gasping moans.

“please what? you wanna cum, angel? do it then, cum all over my hand- cum for me.” he brings his free hand up to snake into your hair, gripping tight at the roots in an effort to keep your mouth from leaving his. it didn’t take long for you to fall apart, thighs spasming around his wrist and pussy spasming around his fingers as you brokenly sob his name against his lips. your chest heaves, cunt still squelching and squishing as issei slows his digits to a stop while you come down from your high.

it’s issei’s turn to moan contentedly as he slides his sticky fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking every last bit of you that coats the skin. he gives you a smile when he’s finished with his meal, and you taste yourself on his lips and tongue when he slots your mouths together again.

“gonna fuck you right here, baby, right in the kitchen like we used to,” he drawls, watching as your hands move to undo his belt and fly, “couldn’t eat in here while you were gone without thinking about how many times i’d stuffed you full right on the table.” you look up from your task to grin at him, shaking your head as you finally get the zip down.

“yeah, i couldn’t make breakfast without you waking up just to bend me over,” you snort, shoving his slacks and boxers down. his cock springs free and fuck, he’s so hard. he’s long, a little girthy with a curve to the left and the tip is blushing, leaking precum as it comes to slap against his stomach.

“shouldn’t’ve been lookin’ so goddamn good every time- bein’ a sweet little wife and cooking for me, how could i not just give you my cock?” his laughing tone is cut off with a hiss, eyes falling from yours to where your hand is wrapped around him between you. your grip is so warm on his already hot skin but he couldn’t care less, not when he’s been missing your hands on him for as long as he has. your free hand comes to mirror his earlier actions, fingers digging into his chin and jaw as you cup his face. he takes a breath before his eyes open back up and when he focuses, it’s you that’s staring up at him so amorously- so covetous in your gaze on him.

“fuck me, ‘sei. show me how much you missed me.” it’s like a switch flips in issei at your words, cravings for you back in full force as he takes your hands off of him with a strong grip on your wrists. he’s got his tongue back in your mouth in an instant, so bruising and eager as it takes in your flavors. he lifts your hands up to his shoulders in silent instruction, his own coming to grip the base of his cock in one and your hip in the other. the man is so teasing even when he’s just as insatiable as you, dragging his cock head between your folds, against your clit until you breathily plead for him. he could never deny you, not like this, so he obliges and starts the breach into your sopping pussy. he’s so slow, so careful in how he stretches you open around him that you don’t even care that your head hits the cabinet when it falls back.

“fuck, i missed you, baby. missed you and this pussy. suckin’ me in like you never want me to leave, shit,” he curses, hands tight on your hips as he begins to rock in and out of you. he loves the way you shudder and keen for him already when he’s barely given you anything yet, and if he were a better person, he’d warn you about what he’s going to give you. he isn’t, however, so he doesn’t.

issei drags his lip between his teeth as he pulls out of you, leaving only the very tip of his cock in your sweltering heat before he’s driving back into you, harder this time, faster. you wail at the abrupt change in his pace, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he sheathes himself into you on repeat. your legs are quivering around his lithe hips, panties dangling from your ankle as it bobs with the force of issei’s jackhammering thrusts into your sopping hole.

“you feel so good, baby, y’always have,” he rasps, drawing your attention back to him as you meet his gaze with lust-clouded eyes. “so stupid for me to think i could give you up, not when you’re so kind, so pretty, so fucking wet, so you.” it’s so hard to reply, so hard to do anything but moan his name as you clench your drooling cunt down on his length. he drags you to the very edge of the counter by the fat of your hips so you’re forced against his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pounds into you voraciously. his hands are rough as they slide up your thighs to grip you under the knee, keeping you spread so wide you know you’re going to feel it for at least a few days.

“couldn’t let that guy have you, baby- fuck-couldn’t let him have my wife,” his voice is husky, low in your ear when he speaks. “you belong here, at home, getting fucked dumb on my dick.” you’re trying to pay attention, really, you are; but it feels like a mission impossible to catch every word when his heavy cock lays assault on your g-spot.

“yeah, ‘m home, fuck me dumb,” you pant, nails leaving crescent shapes in the skin of issei’s neck and shoulders. it’s something you’d feel bad about if he cared- if he didn’t fuck you so full and deep and all-consuming.

the sound in the room is such a lewd combination- the slapping of skin on skin, your gasps and whines and little ‘unh unh unh’s, issei’s harsh breathing and grunts. he feels your cunt pulsing around him and he knocks into you even more crushingly than before, separating you only slightly so he can see your face.

“c’mon, baby, i can feel how close you are. lemme feel it, angel, cum on my cock,” he groans, one hand leaving its position on your leg to slip between you and rub quick, merciless circles onto your clit. you let out a long, unrestrained sob and let your head fall back again, unable to fight off the carnality of your pleasure.

“‘sei, ‘m cummingggg! fuck- i love you, love you s’ much.” your pussy is palpitating around his cock like a heart, which is entirely fitting when he’s so deep it feels like his cock is in your chest. you want to be embarrassed about how much your slick flows out of you, coating issei’s cock and the counter below you in a shiny essence, but you can’t think about it, can’t think about anything at all. your vision goes white for a moment and you’re sure that this here is what people mean when they say “rapturous.”

issei fucks you through it, keeps massaging your puffy clit with his long fingers and your hips are still jerking even after it’s over. he’s got his lips on your neck and you soon learn that he’s actually talking, when your hearing finally returns to you.

“nobody can make my wife cum like i do- know you inside and out, baby. ‘s why you belong with me, huh? belong with someone who fucks you like this,” he growls against your throat. he bites down on the sensitive flesh and you whimper, grip on him tightening as he picks you up from the back of your knees. he’s still heavy and hard inside you as he lays you onto the dining table. the way he stares down at you almost makes you want to shrink, his need to devour you and claim you so easy to spot in his features. the large hands that held you now make their way to the straps of your dress, pulling them off of your shoulders just enough that he can yank the front of your dress down. the first thing you can feel is the cold air hitting your pebbled nipples, and the second is the roughness of issei’s hands as he squeezes and tugs on the nubs, not satisfied until you pathetically whine his name.

there’s no preamble, no warning when he starts to roll his hips into yours again. he’s plowing into you so hard already that you can feel the table shaking beneath you, and you reach for him in instinct but he’s so mean, hands holding your wrists down against the table.

“want you to marry me again, baby. you gonna marry me again, right?” he questions you, eyes pinning you down with a gaze as heavy as iron. it’s a loaded question, really- you know that whether you say yes or no, he’s just going to fuck you harder. you bite your lip as his cock digs against your g-spot and decide to nod- lesser of two evils, and something you’ll think about when he isn’t kissing your womb with his fat tip.

“say it,” he groans, bending over you to nose along your throat. he maps his way up to your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth before planting a kiss on the shell. “say it for me, baby.”

issei gives you a particularly harsh thrust- one that knocks the air out of your lungs and you sob, back arching off of the abused dining table. “‘m gonna- ah!- ‘m gonna marry you, ‘sei. wanna be your wife again,” you murmur, cock-drunk and being hurled over and over into orgasm too much for your brain to handle. issei is satisfied with it, though. he takes full height again as his heavy cock twitches inside of you and he uncurls one of his hands from yours, slipping it between you to thumb casually at your clit.

“mmh- fuck yeah, you are. yeah, you’re gonna be my wife and you’re gonna cum, right?” you hate so badly that you have to give him the satisfaction- but he’s right. you’re so close you can taste it, can feel it deep in the pit of your belly, and you need him. you nod, breathless and hazy, and he gives you a pleased little grin, circling of your clit more deliberate now. his free hand takes your leg and splays it against his chest, your ankle at his ear and he hisses as you take him so much deeper.

there’s no time to warn him before it happens, no time for words of caution because it even shocks you. the coil within you snaps, back arching as you cry so pretty for him. your hands search desperately for purchase and land on issei’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric in your fists while you sob and writhe. the flood that comes out of you is a welcome surprise to issei, who moans out an “oh, fuck” as he’s drenched in your spray of cum. everything’s so wet now, much wetter than before- so sticky when his pelvis meets your ass. he keeps driving his hips into you, keeps his rough thumb on your slippery clit and it’s all so fucking much to process.

“see, baby? nobody else can make you squirt on their fucking dick like that. you’re mine, y’were made for me. now, you’re gonna be a good girl and take my load, right?” he knows what he says might as well be rhetorical because you’re not gonna give him a true, proper answer. but he’s fine with it, as long as you keep making those pretty little noises and clenching his cock so tight like that.

issei’s close, nails digging into your thigh as he twitches inside you. his hair clings to his forehead with sweat, shirt half unbuttoned, half drenched in your juices, and he looks so debauched. and he is- has no choice but to be when it comes to you, when it comes to being inside your velvet heat that wants to wring the cum out of his cock. his breathing is picking up, little huffs of warm air hitting your leg as he ruts into you.

“f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum, baby. you still on the pill? hope not, maybe this one’ll take, huh? if not, that’s ok- i’ll just keep cumming and cumming in this tight little cunt until it does,” he grunts, head falling back and hips stuttering as he fills you with rope after rope of his hot seed. you moan with him, sensitive as you are, while he rides his orgasm out, chest heaving and thighs twitching. issei stares at you from above as he catches his breath, cock slowly softening inside of you but he doesn’t pull out yet, opting instead to drop your leg from his shoulder and back to his hip before he leans down to meld your lips with his in a tender kiss. he slips his arms underneath you, gathering you up into his hold and you gasp, startled as you’re lifted from the table.

“‘sei- what- put me down!” you whine, hissing in overstimulation at every step he takes with his semi-hard dick still inside of you. he ignores you in favor of taking you to the bedroom, dropping you on to the bed you’d once shared, except now the sheets smell only of him. you huff as you pout up at him but he just laughs, dragging his fingers up your sides.

“you didn’t think i was done with you, didya, baby? gotta show my wife just how much i missed her.” he begins to stir his hips again, somehow fully hard already, and somewhere in your mind you know that this is going to be a very, very long night.

it’s bright and warm the next day- a perfect day to move your stuff back home, issei says to you. you’re doing just that, starting simple with clearing out your closet while he does the drawers. there’s a dress in your arms that you’re about to lay out to fold when issei whistles, drawing your attention towards him. he turns to you, smirk on his face and goddamnit, you hadn’t even noticed that he went straight for your underwear drawer- but the skimpy, lavender colored g-string in his hands tells you that.

“give me those!” you scold, reaching to snatch them up but you curse him and his height as he holds them high up over your head.

“oh, absolutely not. these? these are going in my pocket so you can wear them for me tonight.” he snickers, shoving them in his pants pocket when you playfully roll your eyes and back off.

you can’t help but laugh with him, in too high of spirits to be truly annoyed with his antics, to be disgruntled with packing and moving. nothing could bother you, not now when you get to be with issei again, not when he woke you up this morning with languid kisses and whispers of how lucky he was that you wanted to be with him. starting over with him would take work, but it was work that you were both happy and willing to do for each other- for your second marriage.

>authors_note: if mattsun divorced me i would probably kms tbh 👨‍🦯 but anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

>p.s./announcement: i will be opening up for requests soon so have a look at my pinned post for more info!

>thank you for reading ♡

>masterlist.exe

© loko4koko 2023

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #issei matsukawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq matsukawa #hq smut #aoba josai x reader #aoba johsai x reader

[olderthannetfic]

I love Ao3 donation season because it truly brings out the most unhinged people.

Suddenly, these people whose blogs revolved only around fandom and memes turn into the most vocal activists, the most involved protesters. There's not a single cause they don't root for, there's not a GoFundMe they don't advertise.

Oh, you think you can donate 10 dollars to a site that provides you with hours of free entertainment and doesn't ask you to sell your soul through data mining? Well, then you should kill yourself and go to hell, because look at these *insert request of money from someone you've never heard of before, isn't part of your online social group, and you share nothing with* causes need it more!!!

I'm far more likely to donate to my mutuals/people I follow/causes I care about than random people (especially when the request comes from Tumblr users, the same breed that gave us people pretending to have AIDS and of being attacked in a mall bathroom for shipping the wrong ship).

But how dare we enjoy life when JonBenet Ramsey's killer is still on the loose, am I right?

--

Yuuup.

And half the time, the gofundmes they link to are dodgy as fuck. I don't reblog e-begging almost ever. I barely post about organizations fundraising, aside from OTW and maybe the Internet Archive once in a blue moon. Very occasionally, I'll find someone's "I'm a disabled, trans POC" post compelling enough that I'll donate myself, but I'm still not posting it here.

Mostly, I don't post such things because if I did, I'd never stop getting pestered to post more. But a lot of it is that many, many, many of them smell of bad money management of the "Oopsie, I spent all my money going to a con and buying merch! Now rent is due!" or "I adopted 57 disabled pets I don't have the means to care for!" (Yes, I have known many fans of both types. And all of them needed to beg again a month later.) I don't doubt that something is wrong in their life, but I just don't think it's money well spent. I'd rather donate to an organization or, on rare occasions, somebody I'm pretty sure is telling the truth about being from a poor-ass country where my few bucks might actually make an impact. That's not the majority of posts that I see.

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Four

One | Two | Three

I am once again posting hfjkds

Anyway! Here's the next PJO AU! We get to see some interactions between Steve and some goddesses, some more hints at El's parent, and some Steddie at the end

Stick around to the very end for a meme!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Five Weeks Before Meeting Eddie

Steve and the kids are spread out across a department store in Pennsylvania when he, Lucas, and Erica run into the most aesthetically pleasing woman any of them have ever seen. Her face is almost otherworldly, and Steve can't find any blemishes or imperfections in her dark skin. Her hair is a perfect afro, bouncy and decorated with little heart-shaped clips made of real gemstones, the kind of style Erica keeps trying for but always falls short of. She's wearing a short dress; it's orange, flows nicely around her knees, and is paired with white wedges.

The sight of her strikes all of them a little dumb, too distracted by appreciating her beauty to wonder why she seemed to show up out of nowhere. To their credit, Erica and Steve manage to avert their gazes when the woman's eyes glance over them. Lucas, however, continues to stare, his head tilted and his brows furrowed in thought before he lights up with recognition.

"Mom!" he exclaims, dropping the windbreaker in his hands. He smiles brightly as he rushes over, stopping just short of running into the woman. "What are you doing here?"

The woman, who Steve now realizes is Aphrodite, smiles at Lucas with a genuine warmth that relaxes him a little. "Hello, dear," she says, her voice clear and soothing as she cups Lucas's cheek and tilts his head up. "You're looking lively."

"I've been having a lot of fun," he tells her. Lucas then looks over his shoulder and waves Erica and Steve over. "This is Steve. He's been protecting us."

Erica rushes over ahead of Steve, not bothering to hold herself back from hugging Aphrodite's waist like Lucas. She buries her face in her mother's dress as the hug is returned. "I haven't seen you in years," Aphrodite says, pulling back enough to crouch in front of Erica and study her. "You've been growing so well."

"Do you like my hair?" Erica asks, showing a rare childish side as she gestures to her afro-puffs. "Steve helped!"

And this seems to be Steve's cue to introduce himself. When Aphrodite looks up and stands, he smiles politely and nods to her. "Hi, nice to meet you," he says, wondering if he's being too informal. The other goddesses he's met didn't seem to mind, though, and Aphrodite's smile reassures him.

"And you as well, Steve. Thank you for looking after my children all this time," she says, placing one hand on Erica's head and the other on Lucas's shoulder. "I've heard about you from the other goddesses and just had to see what the fuss was about."

"There's a fuss?" Steve asks. He's not sure it's such a good thing for the gods on Olympus to be talking about him. "All good, I hope."

"Good enough," Aphrodite says, her smile dimming slightly as she takes a deep breath. She looks down at Erica and Lucas. "Why don't you two go find something nice? It'll be a gift from me."

Lucas doesn't immediately understand what she means, but Erica does. She nods once and grabs Lucas's hand. "C'mon, I wanna look at the video games," she says, dragging him along.

Once they're out of earshot, Aphrodite looks at Steve. Her smile has become polite. "I truly am grateful that you've been taking care of them," she says, and Steve starts to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, "but I must ask that you take them back to their father."

"What? Why?" Steve asks, frowning slightly.

Aphrodite sighs and crosses her arms loosely. "Several reasons, really," she says. "You attract monsters, Steve. I mean, you are his child. Lucas and Erica were safe at home, surrounded by human children and their human father. Not to mention, your...sister."

Steve tenses, his nerves on edge with just one word. "What about my sister?" he asks, narrowing his eyes slightly. There isn't much he can do against a goddess, but he isn't scared to fight one for any of the kids, especially his sister.

"Well, I'm sure she's a very nice girl," Aphrodite starts, her voice soft and placating, but it doesn't change the anger her words incite. "But that doesn't change the danger my children are in because of her."

Knowing where this was going does nothing to quell the anger that simmers in Steve at her words. "My sister is not a danger to anybody," he says. Then he considers the words and adds, "Well, she's only a danger to the people who threaten her and her loved ones, which includes your children."

Aphrodite sighs once more, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly in what Steve knows should be a sympathetic pout, but it just comes across as patronizing. "She cannot control her powers. One slip-up, and my children ar--"

"She doesn't slip up," Steve says, interrupting Aphrodite, "El, of all people, is the most aware of herself." He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself when he feels the anger crackling under his skin. Too much more and the sky will start to cloud over with thunder and lightning. "I get your concerns, but El isn't a danger."

He looks up at Aphrodite in time to see her frown, and even that expression is beautiful on her. "It doesn't matter how self-aware she is. Slipping is inevitable, and she will face my wrath if my children are hurt. That is a promise, Steve."

If Steve has learned anything from reading myths, it's that he shouldn't anger the gods, and he especially shouldn't anger the goddesses. But now El has been threatened. His sister, one of his kids, has been threatened. So, you know, he can probably be forgiven for what he says next.

"If you touch El or any of the other kids, I swear to the gods, I will make your fit over the golden apple look like a tadpole's temper tantrum," he says, his voice low as he glares at Aphrodite.

He watches as her shoulders rise, leaning back slightly, and her expression morphs into something mixed between angry and dumbfounded. "Did you just threaten me?" she asks.

Steve sees the question for what it is: a chance to take back his words and pretend they never happened. All things considered, it's generous and unexpected from a goddess. Steve doesn't actually care, though. "Yeah, I did. Those kids are under my care, even if they are little shits most of the time. I've fought for them and almost died for them multiple times. Anything that wants to hurt one of them has to go through me, whether that's monsters or gods. So, don't threaten them, because I'd hate to fight you in front of Lucas or Erica."

In the silence that follows, bland pop music plays over the department store's speakers, reminding Steve of where they are. He really just threatened Aphrodite in the middle of Macy's. Well, at least this will be a fun story to tell later.

"Well," Aphrodite finally says, sniffing once and looking down at Steve, "your arrogance is familiar." She lets that dig about Steve's godly parent rest between them for a few seconds. "Fine. I hope neither of us will ever have to act on our threats."

"Yeah. Me, too," Steve says, that anger starting to calm to a subtle buzz.

Aphrodite nods once. "The others were right about you. You are entertaining, and I can...respect your protectiveness regarding the children. I don't like you, though."

"I'll be honest, the feeling is mutual right now."

Their gazes hold for a few more seconds before Aphrodite nods once more in acknowledgment. Steve's anger fully settles then, disappearing until the next time his emotions start to stir. "I'm going to accompany Lucas and Erica for a while and get them some new clothes. I'll send them to you when we're done," she says, turning on her heel and walking in the direction that Erica pulled Lucas before Steve can respond.

He watches her leave, a frown tugging at his lips before he sighs. That meeting didn't go great, but it definitely could have been worse. Steve turns and goes to find El, needing to reassure himself that she's safe before he can completely relax.

----

Eddie gets to see Steve's favor with the goddesses in action on the second day of driving. The kids are starting to argue more than talk, and Eddie will admit that he needs to stretch his legs, so Steve agrees that it's time to stop and find a hotel.

"Can we get one with a pool?" Max asks, having to shout from the back row of seats to make sure Steve hears her.

Steve glances at her in the rearview mirror before sighing. "Yeah, I guess we can try," he says, quickly returning his gaze to the road before clearing his throat. The kids all quiet down, and the van is silent for the first time in hours. "Uh, Hestia, if you've got the time, I'd appreciate some guidance to a place we can stay for the night. The kids would like one with a pool, but just a place where we can sleep safely would be great."

Eddie has heard plenty of demigods pray before, but he thinks this is the most casually genuine one he's ever heard. When they drive past a few exit signs without any change, Eddie starts to suggest Steve try again with a more, well, reverential tone. But then the van's blinker suddenly switches on, and the kids cheer. Steve snorts at their reaction as he follows the blinker's direction and takes the next exit ramp off the highway.

"What the fuck," Eddie mutters, staring as the blinker continues to signal the turns Steve should take until they're pulling into a hotel parking lot.

The sign in front of the building announces it as "Hearth and Home" in cursive letters. The hotel itself is four stories tall and looks like a giant cottage. A few cars are in the parking lot, and Eddie can somehow tell this place is some kind of passion project for someone who doesn't have to worry about money.

After Steve pulls into a spot outside the hotel and shuts the car off, he turns in his seat and looks at the kids. "What are the rules?" he asks, his tone firm and leaving no room for jokes.

"Don't talk to strangers," El says.

"Don't talk at all while you're checking us in and out," Will adds.

"Stick together and stay in sight," Lucas says.

"Cough twice if we sense a monster nearby," Erica says.

"No fighting," Max says, already starting to shift closer to the doors.

"And if anyone asks," Dustin starts.

"We're traveling to meet family one state over," Mike finishes.

Steve nods once and opens his door. That seems to be the signal the kids were waiting for because they immediately scramble out of their seats. Eddie hops out and walks over to Steve, watching the kids climb out as he asks, "What's up with the rules?"

"Well, I'm a young guy traveling with seven kids. Most hotels are hesitant to give me rooms, and they'll straight up lie about being full if the kids are rowdy. We also need a system in place if one of them realizes a monster is around. And saying we're meeting family tells people that we're expected to appear somewhere by a certain time, which deters anybody from trying to, you know, kidnap one of the kids," Steve explains, glancing at Eddie as he shrugs.

Eddie has to stop himself from asking what led to Steve making some of these rules. Instead, he bites his tongue and follows the group inside, sticking to Steve's side as he walks up to the front desk and the kids huddle within sight a few feet away.

"Hi, do you have any vacancies for the night?" Steve asks, flashing a charming smile at the older woman working the desk.

She looks at Steve, then Eddie, and then the kids behind them. "How many rooms would you need?" she asks.

"If you happen to have any connected rooms, we'll take them. But if not, just two is fine."

The woman nods and checks her computer, hesitating for a few seconds before saying, "We don't have any connected rooms, but one of our Executive Suites is open. It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large lounge area. It's made for large groups, so two of the bedrooms have bunkbeds in them. The price, however...."

Steve smiles at her reassuringly and pulls out his wallet. He plucks a black card from one of the pockets and presents it. "Don't worry about the cost," he says, "We'll take it."

At the sight of the sleek credit card, the woman lights up and smiles brightly at Steve. Eddie finds himself thinking that money really does talk. "Of course, sir," the woman says, a suddenly respectful tone coloring her words as she takes the card. "Could I see an ID as well, please?"

As Steve pulls out his license, he looks at Eddie and asks, "Could you take the kids to get the bags from the car? I should have the key cards by the time you get back." He places his license on the desk and hands his keys to Eddie.

Eddie finds himself nodding before he can really think about it, but how can he say no to Steve's brown eyes and the tiny dimples that appear when he smiles? So, he takes the keys and starts herding kids outside.

----

As it turns out, the hotel does, in fact, have a pool, and Steve can't help his grin when the kids cheer after they get to their rooms and he tells them. What follows is a flurry of kids changing into bathing suits, Steve lending Eddie a pair of swim trunks, and making sure everyone has towels and plenty of sunscreen slathered all over them.

The pool is surprisingly large, and there's plenty of space for the kids to swim around and expend some energy. Steve drops into one of the pool chairs and closes his eyes, the plastic warm on his back without burning his skin. He hears another chair get dragged closer before someone sits on it. When Steve opens an eye to look over, Eddie has settled next to him, watching the kids with a slight frown.

Steve follows his gaze, but he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that might catch someone's attention is El wearing her beanie in the pool, but even that could be explained as her forgetting to take it off.

"They don't have any scars," Eddie says after a moment.

Steve blinks and pushes himself up some, sitting straighter in the chair and looking at Eddie. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, a few pieces escaping to frame his face. He's not obviously muscular like Steve, and he doesn't have an 8-pack, but Steve can still see the subtle muscles in his arms and legs. And the scars. Steve can see plenty of scars littered across Eddie's chest and stomach, his arms, and one particularly nasty one just above his knee.

In that way, Steve supposes, they are similar. "I wouldn't let them get hurt," Steve says quietly, shrugging when Eddie looks at him. He scoots forward some so Eddie can get a better look at his own scars. Despite the warm weather, he still can't help goosebumps traveling up his arms as Eddie stares at him.

"What's that one from?" Eddie asks, gesturing to a large slash that reaches from Steve's shoulder to his elbow.

Steve glances down and hums softly. "Stymphalian bird feather. They're made of steel. It attacked us after we picked up Mike and Dustin. Thankfully, there was only one bird, and I managed to dodge most of the time, but I got this one when I closed in to kill it," he explains.

Eddie stares at the scar, and Steve wonders what he's imagining. Does he want to know how vicious the fight must have been? It was one of Steve's messier fights. He didn't have any training, and he barely had experience. Really, Steve had nothing but his instincts and a desperation to keep the kids safe. "What about those?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts as he leans closer to point at what's clearly a bite mark on Steve's right side.

"The lion head of a Chimera," Steve says, glancing at Eddie before pointing at a scar wrapping around his throat. He shifts until he's sitting on the edge of his chair and tilts his head to give Eddie a better view. "The snake tail was choking me at the same time. I had to use lightning on that one since it had me trapped. We ran into it almost two months ago."

Eddie scoots to the edge of his chair, and their knees are almost close enough to touch. Something starts to buzz under Steve's skin. It's not anger. He knows what that feels like. It's something else this time, something that sizzles and lingers and tries to push against his skin to break free. Steve tries not to think about it.

"And this one?" Eddie asks, pointing to a scar that's splashed across Steve's left knee like a starburst.

"That one," Steve says, getting a grin despite himself, "happened because Dustin tried to help me fight a minotaur. He made this mini-bomb without me knowing and threw it into the fight. I managed to tuck and roll, but the explosion still brushed against me. This scar is from it, too." He turns his right leg out so Eddie can see a similar scar on the inside of his calf.

Steve looks up in time to see Eddie swallow, his throat rolling, and that electric feeling gets stronger. It centers on Steve's knees, the spot where they're closest to touching. But it travels like those toys with magnetic sand when Eddie leans closer and points to the scar in the middle of his chest. It grows the longer Eddie's hand hovers there, and Steve glances down just to make sure there aren't actually sparks buzzing across his skin.

"This one?" Eddie whispers, holding Steve's gaze.

Mouth suddenly dry, Steve clears his throat. "My first fight. The, uh, snake thing that took Will," he says. "Some of the scars on my back and stomach are from that one, too."

Eddie nods, and Steve can't place his expression for a few seconds. When he finally does, he realizes it's something like adoration. He's seen it before from all the kids at some point, usually after he's fought a monster to keep them safe. But Eddie is different. Eddie's adoration is just the surface emotion. Under it, Steve can glimpse something even more intense. He almost wants to drown in whatever it is, let it surround him until he can figure out how to describe it.

"You really are metal, Stevie," Eddie says, his voice soft as he smiles at Steve.

Steve has already acknowledged that Eddie is his type, and he definitely isn't imagining the tension between them right now. Without thinking, he leans forward, a similarly soft grin tugging at his lips. But whatever he wanted to say is literally shocked out of him.

The moment he's close enough for Eddie's hand to actually touch Steve's chest, that fizzing energy bursts through. It's not strong by any means, but it's demanding attention as it zaps across Steve's chest and Eddie's fingertip. Steve jerks back, rubbing at his chest and taking a deep breath to control the crackling over his ribs.

Eddie is frozen, staring at his still outstretched hand in shock. His eyes are wide, and Steve grimaces, wanting to take his hand and check for burns but scared of shocking Eddie more.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking away and coincidentally meeting El's gaze. She's sitting on the steps leading into the pool, legs pulled up to her chest with an amused smile on her face. When she realizes that Steve is slightly panicked, though, she blinks and tilts her head. Steve subtly shrugs one shoulder, and, thankfully, she gets the message.

"Steve!" she calls, waving her hand as though she doesn't already have his attention.

It's the save Steve is desperate for, and he practically jumps up from his chair. "I'm gonna go see what El needs," he says, glancing at Eddie only to find he's already looking up at Steve.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Eddie mumbles. Steve waits until Eddie nods to speed-walk (it's still a pool, after all, and he won't set a bad example by running) over to El, urging his heart and the crackling beneath his skin to calm down.

----

Tag List!

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@estrellami-1, @fandomcartographer, @steddie-as-they-go, @cris-wants-a-word, @potato-of-the-lord, @plasticcrotches, @enigmahaze

For those who stuck around, a meme:

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #percy jackson au #the party #my writing

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Wallace Wells' Trans Boyfriend

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

EDIT: Although this fic was written with a more binary trans reader in mind, I'm hoping this fic will also be suitable for AFAB nonbinary people who are masc or male adjacent, which is where I might be at. I'm currently working dating hcs for Wallace with a nonbinary reader (which will be suitable for both AFAB and AMAB readers).

Relationship(s): Wallace Wells x transmasc!reader (romantic)

Warnings/info: Trans typical stuff, like dysphoria, transphobia etc. etc., sexual remarks, he/him pronouns for reader, headcanons were written in one sitting, when I was feeling not great. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I've been reading a lot of Succession fics over the last few days. Last night I read a Roman Roy fic and for some reason it gave me this overpowering wave of dysphoria that I still have yet to fully recover from. Annoyingly, I have yet to actually watch Succession so this could have been avoided; I just think Kieran Culkin's hot and very gender so I couldn't resist pretending that someone with his face was my boyfriend. Reading about Roman made me think 'oh shit. Maybe I'm a flawed and pathetic little guy on the inside. But I just look like a woman who likes to kiss women and everyone treats me like a girl and uses my girl name and girl pronouns and that feels super gross and makes me want to live in a hole. Now I'm going to feel bad about that for the next few days.' So, yeah, I'm having another transmasc crisis that I'm using fanfiction to get me through. I figured Kieran Culkin started this, so I might as well write something featuring a character of his that I can actually write for. This is a self-indulgent and self-explorative treat for myself, but I hope that transmasc readers can enjoy this, too. If you'd like more Wallace stuff, trans stuff or Wallace AND trans stuff, feel free to send in a request. I really want to provide more fics for transmasc readers because you guys are super underrepresented (and, y'know, Papa Gonzo-rella wants to explore his gender a little more). Also, I swear that I will get around to watching Succession, and I more than likely will end up writing for it when I do.)

Respectfully, Wallace does not give a shit that you’re trans.

Of course, he doesn’t flat-out ignore it, because it’s part of who you are, but it isn’t an obstacle in your relationship by any means, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

If you’re feeling dysphoric and/or otherwise insecure about yourself, he’ll pinch your cheeks and tell you how handsome and sexy you are.

If you’re feeling especially bad, like ‘not getting out of bed and hiding from the world’ bad, he’ll keep you company and say what he can to reassure you.

Being mushy and sincere truly isn’t his thing, so whatever he says will sound either slightly insensitive (but still pretty sensitive as far as Wallace goes), facetious or like he wants you to get over how you’re feeling so he can fuck you.

But, he genuinely doesn’t want you to feel bad and you can tell he cares, because otherwise he wouldn’t be there for you when you're feeling your worst.

Wallace is very affirming, but in his own Wallace way.

He lovingly refers to you as his lameass boyfriend.

If Scott ever compliments you about anything, Wallace will call him gay.

He will shout ‘gay’, like the Senor Chang meme.

"Hey, man, I like your shirt-"

"Ha, Scott's gay!"

"I-I'm not gay! I just like his shirt."

"What's wrong with being gay, Scott?"

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong with being gay!"

"You really need to work on your internalised homophobia, Scott. To think, my gay lover and I share a bed with a bigot."

If you’re doing anything that he knows will make you dysphoric or exacerbate your dysphoria (for example, scrolling through social media and looking at cis dudes that give you gender envy) he’ll shut it down.

Using the aforementioned example, he’ll snatch your phone off you and close the app, saying: “Nope. Make better decisions.”

And, while you’d initially be annoyed at him for grabbing your phone, you will appreciate it in the long run.

If you have testosterone shots but you’re not a fan of doing them yourself, he’ll begrudgingly help you with them.

He will make a very Wallace comment, though

“Stabbing? I didn’t know you were that kinky.”

If anyone’s a dick to you about being trans, Wallace is always ready to go with a snide remark about the other person, because of all the things you could possibly mock his lameass boyfriend for, being trans is at the bottom of that list.

(He should know, as the person who makes fun of you the most.)

Also, he cares about you very, very much and he doesn't want people being transphobic to his boyfriend.

If you’re cool with it, he will make trans jokes, but nothing ‘attack helicopter’ or ‘attack helicopter’ adjacent, because he’s too clever for that and he can come up with better material that isn’t just derivative, transphobic garbage.

If you get your period and it makes you at all dysphoric, be prepared for this exchange:

“Don’t worry. Scott pissed blood last month and cried about it and he’s still a man.”

“Did-did he go to the doctor?”

“I don’t know. He seems fine now, though.”

If you still have boobs and don’t mind them being touched or otherwise acknowledged, he will use them like a pillow.

If you decide to get top surgery, he will make the following request:

“Well, if you’re not using them, can I have them? I need a pillow that Scott won’t steal. And, he wouldn’t steal your tits, because he knows I’d call him gay for it.”

“Why are you like this, Wallace?”

“Selfish.”

Being trans doesn’t make your relationship much different from any of Wallace’s other relationships.

You’re just, for better or worse, another one of Wallace’s boyfriends.

#wallace wells x reader #wallace wells #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world x reader #scott pilgrim takes off x reader #x trans!reader #x trans reader #x transmasc!reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male!reader #x trans male reader #x ftm!reader #x ftm reader #trans!reader #trans reader #transmasc!reader #transmasc reader #trans male!reader #trans male reader #trans #transgender #transmasc #x reader