are you going to read tsc when it comes out? and, if not: would you like your acolytes to give you the important kevin day updates or would you rather not?
oh my acolytes huh! well i don’t know :) it’s so nice of you to ask and i’m very touched actually…. nice to me 🥹…. i guess any (good) kevin updates would be nice and probably sway the balance on whether i read it or not, but at first glance i probably won’t read it unless it sparks my curiosity once it’s out and the story starts making its rounds around my circles :) i’m plenty interested in the period where jean stays with the foxes but i don’t much care for the trojans nor the proposed storyline*, though even a picky reader like yours truly can be convinced into buying a story if kevin day’s in it
*by this i don’t mean that i Dislike the process of jean healing but it’s just overall not my favorite theme and, to be frank, i don’t have much interest in reading about a normal well-adjusted team either. from my view tsc is aftg without my favorite parts (namely kevin day as a main character, the foxes’ messy dynamic, problematic and controversial side characters, neil’s narration, The Mafia, andrew in general) and while i am always and forever a ride or die for jean moreau, and i am glad he’s going to get better and be happy, a lot of my feelings for him don’t really stem from the idea that there is a softness underneath all the grit but actually and sincerely the fact that he is crazy. i Love jean because he’s horrible and scared and cruel and i don’t know if i’ll care much for him once he’s out of that state :) i meant it when i said a few months ago that i would’ve been more onboard with a story about the ravens (no matter how gruesome) or even a glimpse of jean’s pov in the nest, though of course nora sakavic should probably choose to be happy every once in a while so i wouldn’t ask her to write that
so tl;dr: you can send me good and relevant kevin updates if you want to and if they’re interesting enough i might read tsc in the future
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Can you explain Strange Someone Frisk’s motivations a bit more? I don’t really understand how they could go from being a nice supportive kid to tampering with things in DR
well frisk Does appear to be nice and nonviolent even without the SOUL’s control (sans saying “even when you ran away you did it with a smile” and seemingly feeling guilty for taking more than one piece of candy (the bowl tipping over and the narration saying “you felt like the scum of the earth”(unless that’s just chara trying to guilt them/you)) and we know from deltarune that while the SOUL controls what frisk and kris do, where they walk and what they say, it doesn’t control how they say things, like kris saying things sarcastically/confusedly/as a joke when it’s a choice they don’t particularly agree with (like the “perish” being said enthusiastically, or saying they’d go to the festival w ralsei or noelle and not sounding like the Actually Want To).
and similarly to kris ithink ss frisk feels. lost. without the soul. in the context of the au, frisk doesn’t remember anything before falling into mt ebott. idk it’d they even remember their life before that day. idk if they even had one. they maybe convinced themself that they were literally made for their role, and didn’t exist before then. maybe them causing problems through the secret bosses is them trying to get the SOUL’s attention, bc the SOUL’s influence is all they know, and they know the SOUL is here now.
they’re messed up in a similar fashion as jevil and spamton (and presumably the other secret bosses we have yet to meet) but where as they were Told by frisk about their roles as characters in a story, and jevil’s method of coping being that he’s “free”, and spamton’s is by trying to escape, frisk was made aware by their firsthand experience, and has turned to telling the secret bosses. and well, while i don’t know Why frisk would let this knowledge upon them when they’d been previously kindhearted, maybe it has to do w like. their life being entirely upended by the game ending and being shunted out of that universe as a result. maybe they feel cheated. maybe they feel that doing good isn’t worth it. maybe they feel like they can’t do good without the SOUL telling them to do so. maybe they don’t even realize or think that what they’re doing is causing harm, maybe they think that telling them What’s Really Up is a good thing. they did actually help spamton, for a time.
think that makes flowey’s plea for the player not to reset, to leave the game alone let frisk have their happy ending, kinda. ironic. not that resetting Would Have done them any favors either.
also if i was made fully aware that my life was little more than a means to tell a story i think I’d snap a little bit too. my life is a game maybe I am tired of being nice, maybe I do just want to go apeshit. maybe I’ll cause some problems on purpose
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ok ok so you know how my life has majorly revolved around my pain since july & how that has been extremely difficult :) well lately I find myself getting up later than I want to & making my bed as badly as I possibly can & getting out of the house after noon when I planned to get out in the morning & walking to the library when it’s sunny & sitting there for hours & the whole time I’m most concerned with writing & that it’s incredible what I’m doing, it’s a little paradise
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obviously being in this hospital sucks ass and i uhh don’t want to be here anymore. i want to go home and take a shower. but it’s also a beautiful chance to reflect on the preciousness of life and the importance of community and love.
earlier this year i ended up in the ER in another city on the way back to school. and it was cold, i was kinda traumatized by the experience that put me there, i was starving and exhausting, and i was almost completely alone. and that was definitely the worst part. i could cope with blankets, taking a nap, drinking water and juice, eating graham crackers, but it was so scary just having the nurses and texting to get me through the experience.
in contrast, when i was hospitalized back in may, my mom spent the night with me, and then my dad spent most of the next afternoon with me. i was alone for only a few hours in total, but i never really felt lonely. bored, yes, but never lonely.
and then this time is just bursting with affection and care. my little sister keeps bringing me m&ms. today my best friend brushed my hair because i can’t do it by myself. another friend brought be a game and baby wipes. i went for a procedure and my dad (mildly emotional constipated) sat in the lobby with my favorite stuffed toy because after i said i could be brave without it he said “well i can’t.”
so yes, this situation started with something very painful and then i’m once again kinda traumatized by the experiences i had in the ER, i’m being kept afloat by love and companionship, which is way more healing than every single therapy i’ve been given. i’m mostly just feeling very grateful and very lucky.
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genuinely so angry and scared im shaking. how many other times this week this month this year have i been exposed without knowing it. do people even tell each other anymore. it’s just so grim. it’s so fucking grim
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i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)
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damn im already feeling like this and it’s not even 9 o’clock yet
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man trauma healing really is a fucking
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“doc”
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]
i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)
(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)
warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think
word count: 1.2k
____________________
you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.
but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.
children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.
scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.
“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”
“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”
“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”
he really was ridiculous.
either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.
“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”
“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.
you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”
the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“
“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”
he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“
“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”
“but—“
“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”
“y/n—“
“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”
“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”
you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”
cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.
“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.
he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”
you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”
he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”
you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”
he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”
“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.
“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”
you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”
he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”
you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.
luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.
every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.
after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”
“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”
“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”
“luke’s not my boyfriend.”
“i never said who it was.”
“well, it was pretty obvious—“
“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.
you didn’t even know where he was.
camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.
you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.
“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.
your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”
he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”
“didn’t stop you before.”
there was a silence.
then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”
your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”
“you missed me.”
“i did not miss you.”
he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”
you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”
“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”
you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”
“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”
“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.
before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.
you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“
“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”
“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”
“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”
his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.
you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.
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What do people underestimate about you when they meet you? 👀💐 PAC reading ☀️
Hi friends 💐☀️ it’s been a minute since I have made a post on here, but I am back! What do people underestimate about you when they meet you? Let me know below if it resonates with you, feel free to comment like and reblog ⬇️☺️
Pile 1: Hi there pile 1’s!☀️🧘♀️💐 I feel like people underestimate your intelligence when they meet you. I feel you are the kind of person who observes a lot and doesn’t say much, until its necessary. A lot of people hate on the quiet kids but they’re the most dangerous because they know everything 😂 thats the vibe I’m getting. You’re quick witted, you’re quick with your comebacks and people don’t expect that. People expect you to be quiet, small minded and naive. But then they have a deep conversation with you and all of a sudden its like, “i was wrong to assume that of my pile 1, damn” and it hits them! What you say resonates because its like you get to the root of the matter and pull it out. Like weeds. You pull the truth out and say it. You guys have a powerful throat chakra and it’s something to be proud of! You don’t like illusions, lies and dishonesty. You prefer honesty, openness, and integrity! And lots of people aren’t able to match that so they end up feeling attacked, which was never your intention. Thank you pile 1’s for coming by 💗 I hope this resonated with you!
Pile 2: Hi there pile 2’s! Welcome to your reading 💐🧘♀️😻 People underestimate your resilience and bravery. I feel that some people see you as someone who is incapable of fighting, standing up or defending yourself. But you are the opposite! And people don’t expect that. They underestimate your ability to take on a challenge. Especially if you’ve been through a lot in your childhood, I’m feeling like family members perceived you as weak, gullible and naive. But you got up and healed and it took a lot of time, and you are still healing, but here you are setting boundaries and putting your foot down. This is something people do not expect. But then again im hearing “what did you expect? Did you expect me to really sit and take your bullshit?” On point!! You guys are quick, to the point, and do not hesitate in saying no or setting boundaries. For a long time you struggled with speaking up and it still may be a thing, which is understandable, and now you are healing enough to say no. People also may not expect you to be financially well off is something I’m getting. Your efficiency at saving money is something people don’t expect, or your savvy mindset when it comes to making 💰! People underestimate your resilience and your ability to take on a challenge. A true phenix from the ashes 💗 thank you pile 2’s for coming by! I hope this resonated. Please like comment and reblog for the support 💐☀️
Pile 3: Hi there pile 3! 💃🏻 This ones gonna be interesting 😂 in the best way possible! I feel that people underestimate your ability to leave. To say goodbye. To end situations and walk away. And move to a better place than you were before. People think you’ll stay in the mud, but you are the kind of person where if it gets uncomfortable you have no problem taking yourself out the pot. If the situation isn’t working, remove yourself from the equation is what im understanding 😂 love it! You guys don’t hesitate in moving to where you need to be and where your soul calls you, and right away you’ll know if someone is meant for you, or situation. People underestimate your ability to create abundance and move into prosperous places, but you manifest fast-and you move on to where you need to be with little to no issue. I feel like you guys know how to pack it up and make your decision, and the other person is shocked you thought about this without them. And your response is something of “I wasn’t aware I needed you in the first place to make this choice” 😂💗 I love it! You guys really know how you make an entrance and say goodbye 😻 thats the vibe im getting. People underestimate your presence in their life. The absence is felt when you’re really gone. Thank you pile 3’s! Please feel free to like comment and reblog to help this blog grow ☀️💐💃🏻
Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💐💗 it meant a lot to me! Your support is greatly appreciated. Enjoy the Aries full moon 🧘♀️
Paid Readings ⬇️💅🏻
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a post on persistence⋆.ೃ࿔*:・💝
im super happy and excited to announce that this post is a collab with the AMAZINGG @pinkpigtailsprincess. we wanted to collab on this post and talk about PERSISTENCE in manifesting and how crucial it is when ur manifesting things.
HOW TO PERSIST ; persisting simply means reminding urself that u already have whatever it is that u want. when u persist, you decide what it is that u want and you STICK to it.
the oxford definition of persistence simply means to continue in an opinion or course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.
your 3d literally has no choice but to catch up and reflect the new thoughts that ur thinking in ur 4d so just KEEP GOING. if ur gonna whine or complain every step of the way and think thoughts like "persisting is hard" or "theres lots of resistance/difficulty with manifesting" then thats what ur going to experience.
manifesting is easy, effortless, and instant. when u catch urself thinking thoughts that perpetuate the old story, remind urself that no matter what, whatever u persist in will harden into reality simply because it HAS to. stop getting in your own way!!
LIMITLESS > IMAGINATION ;
limitless definition; possesing power of an immeasurable rate a perfect way to describe your power your literally the god of your reality and you know you might think thats silly or “delusional” its so true though like ever since birth people are conditioned to believe that being negative is the more “logical” and “realistic” way to think than positive which is such a stupid revelation because all throughout life you meant to believe that you have to bring yourself down to earth about achieving something and that you’ll never have “” but that makes no sense seeing all of the extraordinary achievements that humans have done like
build rockets and do rocket science
walk on the moon
build the great wall of china
and so many others including the human body its self your cells in your body healing and protecting wounds and your organs being able to stay in the designated spot no matter what and you think “logic” actually matters?
everything in the human mind is projected i mean everything you use on a daily basis started off in the mind it all stems from imagination
DECISIONS ⭐️ ;
deciding is the final decision and the final outcome no matter what no questions asked like if you went too a sushi restaurant and ordered and decided that you want a shrimp tempura roll you will have the shrimp tempura roll no matter what concepts “if the concept of something can exist then that can be achieved no matter what”
literally something i think about alot and a direct quote from yours truly like most people do think that you can have something because its quote “unrealistic” or it “doesn’t exist” but if that were really the case than why is the concept of it allowed to prosper like if those things really didn’t exist then the concept of billionaires or superpowers and superheroes wouldn’t exist or even time travel everything single one of those things are a product of imagination!!!
YOUR THE ONLY POWER ;
alot of the times on loablr you see people say “you’re the only power” and “you don’t even need that method just imagination and that honestly just so real because if you really think about all of these methods ie: 48 hour challenge, 10k affirmations method etc.
and the void state those things also stemmed from that person’s imagination when you use those methods or use subliminals all your doing is giving it a smidge of your power the method is only powerful because your giving it that power in conclusion you and your imagination are the only things that matter !!
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Reader (male preferably) x T.N and M.R
Where reader gets into fights a lot. Like a lot. Almost double the amount that Theo and Matt get in combined in just a week. The only reason Dumbledore lets him stay at Hogwarts is because he’s top of every class. What bugs a lot of his peers is the fact that he doesn’t try. He doesn’t study, he just gets it straight up, he barely shows up to class, he fights everyone and anything that speaks bad about the slytherin house, and he’s got the face every guys jealous of. Reader is just made to make people mad, is how he’d be described. But he’s not aggressive. He doesn’t lose his temper easy, it’s just when his house or Theo and Matt are mentioned that he loses it. It’s like a trigger going off in his brain, to protect what’s his. And Merlin does that turn them on.
NSFW (optional)
Reader loves to mark them as his. To have everyone be able to see the dark hickeys or slowly healing bite marks. To display a type of claim over the two. They’re his. And he knows exactly how to make them feel good. Make them writhe for him. Degrading Mattheo while edging Theodore, wrapping his bloodied hands around their throats while he pushes them up against the wall. Fuck and when he’s all beaten up after a fight? They can’t fucking resist him.
• smut • bloody knuckles — poly! sub! sweetie pie! theodore nott x poly! sub! brat! mattheo riddle x gn! poly! dom! reader
❕no pronouns or gender/assigned sex markers of any kind!❕
warnings: SMUT MDNI, BLOOD KINK JFC IS THERE A GODDAMN BLOOD KINK IN HERE, same with degradation holy fuck, pain(?) kink, violence, mild descriptions of gore/wounds, usage of the word ‘blood’ or ‘bloody’ approximately 12000000 times, THE BOYS ARE ROMANTICALLY & SEXUALLY INVOLVED WITH EACH OTHER, some pretty aggressive dom/sub roles for ya silly little deviants
i don’t know why i gave the boys pure opposite personalities. the dichotomy of man, i guess.
this is quite easily the filthiest fucking thing i’ve ever written, and i was too embarrassed to let my allosexual boyfie edit/help with this one so it’s real bad 😬 enjoy your asexual-written smut? ig? i did my best, anon, i’m so sorry
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Seamus Finnegan was not expecting to start off his Monday morning with a broken nose.
To be fair though, it was kind of his fault. I mean, six years of school together and the boy still decided to run his mouth without a single care in the world.
“Heard Riddle’s a slut. That true?”
Your head snapped up and a furious look crossed your face. “What?”
“Hot though,” Seamus shrugged. “‘s why y’keep ‘im ‘round, yeah?”
Your hands clenched into fists down by your sides.
“He a good fuck, at least?” Seamus asked carelessly, seemingly unaware of your brewing anger. “I bet ‘e is. Think ‘e’d put out?”
Before anyone could even blink, you had Finnegan down on the ground. His face quickly became the victim of your furious fists.
He tried to shove you off, but you just smacked his hands away and got a solid hit to the center of his face, punctuated by the sound of snapping cartilage.
Blood rushed in your ears and the crowds fell away as you focused solely on Make him pay. Make him pay. Make him pay.
You were abruptly brought out of your bloodthirsty rage by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your torso and yanking you off of Seamus.
You spun around in anger, the question of who the fuck-? dying on your lips when you saw the concerned face of Theodore Nott, and the bright red face of Mattheo Riddle.
~~~
“Darling-”
“Shut up, it’s my love language,” you pouted.
Theo rolled his eyes fondly, leading you by your shoulders into their dorm’s bathroom. “You know we can handle ourselves, love. You’ve met both of our fathers; we’ve had much worse than some Irish pipsqueak theorizing about our sex lives.”
“Well, I thought it was hot.” Mattheo interrupted with a cheeky grin. “Our badass lover who’s willing to throw down with a Gryffindor to protect our honor? Proof that chivalry isn’t dead.”
“Well, I just don’t want other people talking about you like that,” you scowled.
“We know, love,” Theo grinned, crouching down to dig the first aid kit out from under the sink, patting your thigh in a patronizingly reassuring gesture. “Now, lemme see how bad it is.”
You huffed in faux annoyance, holding out your bloody hands in front of you and lifting your chin so he could see the state of your face.
Theo sighed and began his millionth lecture of the day as he started dabbing antiseptic ointment on the few small scrapes scattered across your face.
Mattheo was unusually quiet, adding nothing to the playful bickering between you and Theo.
You glanced over at him, only to find that he was practically enraptured, staring at your hands. His eyes followed a single bead of blood’s meandering path down your knuckles and fingers, watching as it dripped off the tip of your index finger and splattered onto the tile floor.
You could’ve sworn you saw him lick his lips.
You traded a knowing look with Theo before speaking. “Whatcha looking at, Matty?”
His cheeks flushed red and his gaze snapped back up to your eyes. “Nothing!”
You took a step forward. He took a step back.
“Oh, really?”
He gulped.
You reached forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, gently pressing him up against the wall. “A blood kink, huh? Shit, you really are a slut, love.”
Mattheo looked down, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
You gripped his chin and forced his head up to look at you. His eyes widened in surprise at the firmness of your grasp.
You pressed two blood-streaked fingers against his lips, groaning at the sight of his tongue instinctively darting out to kitten-lick them.
“Shit, Matty,” Theo whispered from behind you.
You trailed your fingers down his jaw and the side of his neck before loosely wrapping your hand around his throat.
He gasped and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Y-Y/n-”
“You like this? Hm?” You crooned as the blood on your hand smeared onto the skin of his neck.
Mattheo nodded frantically—as much as he could with the limited range of motion.
“That’s fucking disgusting, Riddle. What a filthy fucking boy.”
(He whimpered. He fucking loved it when you called him by his last name.)
You let go of his neck, stepping back and leaving him with a pleading whine caught in his throat as you turned to your other boyfriend.
“And Theodore, my pretty little angel,” you cooed softly, running your fingers through his hair and cupping his cheek. “How’s my little lovebug doing?”
He watched you with wide eyes, his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips. “Y-Y/n…”
You ran your thumb over his cheekbone, smiling softly. “Answer my question, pretty boy.”
“I-I’m doing good, love,” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as you trailed your thumb down the side of his neck and swept it across his collarbone.
You abruptly pulled your hand away, spinning on your heel and leaving the en-suite without another word.
Your boys followed you into the dorm room like lost puppies, trailing after you with confused and needy expressions.
You sat down on one of the beds, lying back against the pillows with a relaxed and unbothered expression on your face. “Teddy, over here. Matty, go sit in the chair.” You waved your hand towards the desk chair, lazily motioning for Theodore to take off his shirt and join you on the bed.
Mattheo pouted and whined. “What? But- darlin’, I’ve been-”
“A greedy bitch,” you scoff as you yanked off Theo’s trousers and boxers in one swift motion, rolling him over onto his back. “Now sit down and wait your damn turn. Don’t you dare touch yourself. You’d better keep your hands where I can fucking see them.”
Without waiting for a reply, you turned back to your other lover. You ignored Mattheo’s protesting whines in favor of wrapping your fingers around Theo’s dick, appreciating the way Theo’s hips jerked up with a startled moan and his hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as you did so.
“Riddle. I changed my mind. Get the fuck over here.” You snap, narrowing your eyes at the boy wiggling uncomfortably in his seat. “Hold Teddy’s hand.”
He jumped into action, quickly clambering onto the bed next to the pair of you and scooping up one of Theo’s hands in his.
You nodded, pleased at his cooperation, and slowly started jerking Theo off.
“Pretty, isn’t he, Matty?”
You expected him to say something in agreement, or tease Theo lightly, but your question was met with silence.
You glanced over, curious as to what caught his attention. Mattheo’s eyes were laser focused on Theo’s lower half. You followed his line of sight, confused as to what he was looking at, when you realized.
The blood from your busted knuckles had smeared itself all over Theo’s cock.
“Suck Teddy off.” The demand left your lips before you could even fully think it through.
Neither boy seemed disinterested in your proposition, if the way Mattheo all but scrambled down the bed as he leapt onto your boyfriend was any indication.
Mattheo kneeled between Theo’s thighs and pinned down his hips, practically drooling at the perverse sight in front of him.
Theo moaned brokenly as he felt Mattheo’s tongue lick a long stripe up his dick before taking him fully into his mouth. You hummed appreciatively at the gorgeous view in front of you, reaching out to stroke your hand along Theo’s hip and thigh.
The dorm was quickly filled with the sweet sounds of Theodore’s little moans and sighs, and the filthy wet sounds of Mattheo’s mouth.
He drew Theo closer and closer to his release. But right as your sweetest lover’s body began to shake, you caught sight of one of your brat’s hands subtly sneaking between his legs. You growled, tightening your grip in his hair to warn him to pull off.
As soon as Mattheo pulled off of Theo’s cock, panting for air, you harshly grabbed his jaw and yanked his head up to face you.
“Greedy fucking whore,” you sneered, “I told you not to touch yourself. Apologize to Theo for being such a self-centered brat.”
“S-sorry! So-sorry! I-I’m sorry, T-Theo!”
“Good boy,” you murmur, petting his hair and lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. “Good, love. Continue.”
Mattheo let out a shaky breath, still reeling from the whiplash of your sudden gentleness as he leaned back down to continue his earlier ministrations.
He quickly realized why you’d been so suddenly sweet when he felt your hand start roughly palming him through his trousers. He whined around Theo’s cock, which in turn made Theodore gasp and moan loudly.
You grinned at your boys’ reactions as you leaned down to murmur in Mattheo’s ear, “You can cum if you get Teddy off, alright sweetheart?”
Sparked with renewed interest at the incentive, Mattheo resumed sucking off Theo with vigor. Theo’s thighs shook as he babbled incoherently, a mix of “Fuck!”s, “Merlin-”s, and “Y/n!”s.
“Good boys, that’s it,” you cooed sweetly, brushing sweaty curls off of Theo’s forehead. “You’re just so close, aren’t you, my love?”
Theo sobbed pitifully and nodded. “Pl-please- Y/n- please!”
“Go ahead,” you whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
With your permission, Theo fell apart with a loud moan, his entire body shaking and spasming. You continued palming Mattheo, intent on keeping good on your promise.
“Come whenever you’re ready, Riddle,” you murmured. He had pulled off of Theo by now, and stared up at you with wide, glazed-over eyes. You wiped a smear of cum from the corner of his lips with your thumb, grinning teasingly at the pair of them as you promptly stuck it in your mouth and swirled your tongue around the digit.
With one final moan, Mattheo’s body stiffened up and broke down into shudders as he was wracked with the force of his orgasm. His arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, tucking his face into the hollow where Theo’s thigh met his pelvis.
You gave both of your boys a minute to collect themselves, murmuring gentle praise as you littered their faces with soft kisses. “Both so good for me, my best boys. So perfect.”
You sat in a contented quiet for a few more minutes, just caressing them gently. But once their breathings had steadied out, they startled you by sharing a look and abruptly tugging you down and rolling over on top of you.
“Your turn now, love.”
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nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.
RECOVERY, reiner braun !
୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader
୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .
୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!
୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)
isopropyl.
it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.
a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.
you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.
“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.
“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”
he isn’t listening.
reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”
“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.
you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.
“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.
you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.
“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.
“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.
“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.
“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?
“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.
“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.
you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.
it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.
“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”
“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.
nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.
“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.
you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.
“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.
‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.
it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.
your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.
reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.
“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”
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You're back
wc:; 1.6k
tags:; angst to fluff, izuku x reader, aftermath of a fight, domestic izuku x reader, established relationship, pro-hero Izuku, very fluffy end
a/n: hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.
You’re breaking his heart with one sentence and sad eyes.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Can you just look at me.” Izuku said desperate trying to catch your eyes.
You avoided his eyes looking down with teary eyes and wobbly lips.
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” He said watching as you turned into yourself trying to be as small as possible.
“I never-never-God I didn’t mean it I was mad.” His stomach turning and eyes watering at his mistake. Taking a stressful day out on you.
You nodded your head just wanting to leave. Unable to, your green haired boyfriend earlier picking you up and driving you to his house.
“I understand…I’m going home.” You whispered.
“Okay I’ll drive you.” Izuku said. Going to grab his keys. Driving you home he could get you food and have you in a close space.
Begging you for a kiss and forgiveness and you would roll your eyes before kissing him back. He could fix things, he could make you remember how much he loved you.
“ Im walking.” You said weakly watching the sunset from his window reaching for your bag on the floor.
Izuku felt his heart drop.
You wouldn’t even be in the same car as him?
“I’m sorry, i’m sorry. I-I…I get that you’re upset but it’s getting dark please let me take you home.”
You shook your head, meaning what you said.
Walking out the door he deflated. Izuku knew following you home would anger you more.
You walked home as he checked your location breathing a sigh of relief at you making it home.
He cried like a baby wondering how he had screwed up so badly. What if you never wanted to speak to him again? He wouldn’t blame you but it would destroy him.
The look on your face as he begged you to talk to him crushed his spirit.
You needed time. You loved Izuku more than anything but you needed space from him. Time to heal from what he had said to you.
While Izuku was breaking apart with each passing second. You were trying to piece yourself back together.
It had been about a week of your break. Izuku wasn’t sleeping or eating and not going to the gym. Barely making through the numerous patrols and meetings.
You left Sunday night and didn’t come back to the apartment til Friday night. He had taken all overnight shifts, not being able to stay in the apartment without you there. The smell of you on the comforter made him nauseous. Only thinking if you never came back that would be the last thing left for him.
Entering your shared apartment you pulled off your shoes, and let down your hair. Noticing the apartment looked exactly the same.
The bowl you ate a snack in before the fight still in the sink, the couch still covered in a laundry session. The apartment was completely dark and untouched.
Sleeping in an empty bed you fell asleep fast happy to be out of a hotel room. Not hearing your exhausted boyfriend come in at 5am from a long shift. Finally coming back to the apartment after so long away. Izuku couldn’t spend another night on his office couch. He needed to smell your pillow and cry. He took off his shoes and paused at the differences in the apartment from when he had left it.
Your keys in the bowl by the door, the lamp in the living room on, your bag and jacket placed in the living room and the A/C running.
You came back.
You were home.
He rushed down the hallway to see your figure buried under blankets on your side softly sleeping.
Izuku broke down in tears. Unzipping his hero suit to be only in his boxers.
He climbed into bed tugging you into him. Tears wetting his face and the top of your head. You let out a small groan still deep in REM cycle but cuddled into your boyfriend and his strong chest.
“You came back to me.” He whispered almost crushing you in his grasp not wanting to let go.
You woke up a couple hours later around 10am to your ribs unable to expand to their fullest making it hard to take a full breath. Squinting your sensitive eyes you recognized wild green tuffs of hair buried in your neck and his buff heavy body laying on top of you.
Bringing a hand up you begin to rub his scalp.
He groaned before tightening his hold on you.
“You’re back.” He whispered
Nodding your head you tried to move from his hold.
“Im hungry,” You grumbled trying to loosen his grip and slip from underneath him.
“Okay.” He said pulling his head from your neck. Sitting up on his knees and picking you up from your arms.
“Oh- my.” You gasped at him lifting you easily and carrying you to the kitchen. His big body able to hold you at the waist and stride into the kitchen.
“I can walk.” You said holding onto his neck trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes
“I know you can. I don’t want to be away from you.” Izuku said in his gravely deep morning voice sitting on the kitchen chair. Sitting on his lap facing him in the chair. You leaned forward your forehead on his shoulder.
“Can I get up or are you going to hold me down.” You asked after a couple beats of silence as he rubbed your back.
He nodded but the second you got up you had a shadow following you. Izuku following you like a lost puppy.
Standing at the stove you felt him leaning into your back.
“What do you want for breakfast?” You asked looking up at him.
“Im not hungry.” He said with hand holding the back of your shirt with his thick fingers. Like a child gripping the back of your shirt. As though he was afraid you were going to disappear.
But he was lying.
Your boyfriend could eat 3x the average man with his regime and routine as a pro hero. What you didn't know that in your absence your man had lost his appetite for food and hadn't been eating.
You hummed at his answer still pulling out food from the fridge.
“Do you need help?” He asked shyly as though he was afraid to upset you as you started.
“No Im okay.” You said stirring in the pan
He hovered by you the entire time you cooked. When you finished cooking the obscene amount of food for both of you, you began to plate the breakfast.
Izuku let go of your shirt to grab your favorite mug and fill up your drink.
You sat down and nudged his plate to him even if he said he wasn’t hungry.
He hesitated at the pile of food you had just made for him.
Not that he wasn’t hungry. He was starving.
Not that he didn’t want to eat your cooking. Trying to figure out how to apologize for what he had done.
He missed you so badly his chest physically ached with every breath. Now you were back in his arms with the same warm smile you only had for him and back in your shared apartment. Trying to fix what he had broken because you loved him that much.
“You made me breakfast.” He said in a small voice
“Yea.” You said taking a sip of your steaming drink
“You made me breakfast…thank you” He said placing his head in your neck. You gently rubbed his nape as he held onto you hand coming back for your shirt.
“I’m sorry for hurting you. I missed you…so much” Izuku mumbled gripping your shirt pulling you closer to him dragging your chair closer to his.
“I know, I know. I needed time. But I still love you okay? Im not going anywhere.” You reassured him knowing he was hurt.
He nodded into your chest.
“Come here.” He said pulling you into him now sitting on his lap again. You both sat there in silence staring into each other’s faces. Rubbing your thumb against his cheek just how he liked.
Initiating the kiss he had been desperate for all week.
Slipping a bit of tongue into your lover’s mouth, he sighed in relief. You still loved him, still kissed him like you always did.
“Eat, its going cold.” You said and he nodded as you wiped his face for him.
You sat in his lap drinking your warm drink as he ate the mountain of food you had prepared for him. Taking what you didn’t finish from your own plate.
Sitting in his lap enjoying your drink when you felt your shoulder become wet.
Your boyfriend was sniffling with wobbly lips and running eyes.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying baby?” You said gently wiping his face as he cried.
“I’m sorry. I hurt you and you still came back and now i’m eating your breakfast. I don’t deserve you. I didn’t think you would come back.”
“You made a mistake, and I know you are sorry. Stop apologizing. I just needed time okay? I still love you so much.” You said gently running your hands through his thick curly green hair.
He nodded and you stretched his cheeks to make him laugh.
“There’s that cute smile.”
“I missed you.” He said with wet freckled cheeks sniffling
You leaned up and gently bit his cute freckled cheek.
“Did you miss my bites?” You asked soothing his pink skin with a light peck.
He nodded, “I love your bite marks.”
“Good because you’re going to be covered in them by tomorrow.” Kissing his face as he happily took whatever affection you offered him. His large arms wrapped around your body never wanting to leave you.
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