#//Other cases he might do this are if he sees a kid staring at him from aways while their parents are talking

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, mentions of death, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 4: Plan of action.

🔹🔹🔹

You're restless, the impromptu visit from your supposed “husband” plagues you as you pick apart every second of it, from the mannerisms of him and the doctor to how he spoke to you. Even all the meds they've got you on haven't knocked you out yet even though it's late, the lights dimmed and the rest of the facility has fallen relatively quiet. Nothing else to do you think, piece out what little you have.

You know you died, jumped to your death on an alien planet far from earth. You remember the feeling, the pain, as quick as it was was unbearable, shock not having time to settle in. Yet you're on earth in a hospital bed, an undetermined amount of time having passed, no mention of aliens or the snap or the heroes you worked under. No Thanos. That's the only part you're thankful for.

But a partner? Kids? Not in your life. Something's wrong.

You stare at the dark ceiling for what feels like hours, the lack of Windows frustrates you since you can't even see what time of day it is, just go off the staff's schedules, the room feels like a choke point, a cell, a little box you're shoved into. You just hope they haven't played with the supersoldier serum again. A noise stirs outside your door, you relax your whole body as you wrap your hand around the syringe, subtly popping the cap off.

The door makes little sound, it's well oiled it seems, if it weren't for the air changing you'd have thought it was just someone walking by, a nurse or something. The fact that they're sneaking is enough for you to act, your eyes closed in feigned rest. the air changes again, above your head to the left, quick as a cat you strike out with the syringe.

🔹🔹🔹

If Tim hadn't hadn't just come off a case he might not have been so jumpy, he might have taken the needle right in the neck. He quickly yet awkwardly grabs at the hand and bats it away before he gets stabbed, his eyes widening under the cowl.

“Woah! Woah calm down! Easy I'm one of the good guys.” He holds his hands up placatingly and steps back, what the hell just happened? You were seemingly asleep a second ago!

“Come on, why does everybody go for the neck?” He grumbles as he eyes the syringe, his eyes quickly meeting yours even though his aren't visible, at least you're awake now?…

“good guys don't sneak up on people in hospitals, who are you and how'd you get in here.” Your voice is steely as you study the man, he sounds young, really likes red and black it seems…is that a cape? A bit dramatic for your taste.

“Wha- hey Gotham heroes do! It's our- Okay let's get back on target here, can we put the needle down? You won't be needing that.” He steps closer slowly, when you don't immediately relinquish the makeshift weapon he stops short of the hospital bed.

Gotham huh, sounds like a made-up name. Your expression doesn't falter. “you didn't answer my questions, name and business here?”

“…I'm red Robin, you remember that?”

Your eyes narrow, he's clearly gotten a hold of your diagnosis somehow, bribery? Impersonating a doctor? Hacking? Maybe they're just all in on it.

“No. Why are you named after a fast food joint?” It's a trip question, throw him for a loop to see how he reacts.

He looks taken aback, his foot sliding back slightly as he tilts his head, offended possibly?

“I'm actually moreso honoring Robin, guess it's a bit in the nose eh?”

He glances at you like he expects something, the silence stretches on, you both staring at each other until it starts to get uncomfortable. His feet shift again, his hands start fidgeting with his pockets.

“…who's this Robin?” you ask blankly, fed up with all the name games already. You pull yourself upright in the bed, the syringe still held close to you just Incase.

“You…. Do you remember Batman?” He sounds genuinely upset for a moment, subconsciously leaning towards you. there's that spark of attachment like with the Wayne, what the hells going on?

“bat-man? Like, Chiroptera family, or a baseball bat?”

It's a fair question in your mind, you're no stranger to literal codenames so maybe it's some man with a wooden bat. another staring contest, silence blankets over the two of you for another uncomfortable moment. If this is an interrogation or assassination attempt it's a poor one.

“…how do you even-okay this is getting out of hand. I just wanted to see how you're doing, how's your head?” He starts to gesture towards you and then stops, clearly still wary of the syringe in your fist.

“don't know. pain meds.” Sounds answer enough in your mind, red Robin nods with a slight grimace on what's visible of his face, seemingly satisfied with that.

He shifts from foot to foot, restless or impatient? Head tilting down as he worries his lip, your eyes narrow as you watch the young man process something.

“…. I'm gonna figure something out to help your memory, okay?” He speaks firmly after an awkward moment of silence, reaching out to Pat your shoulder absentmindedly before flinching back again. What is with the familiarity? The people here are too touchy in your opinion.

He ducks out of the room without another word after that, silence falling over you once again, you're not letting that guy anywhere near your memories, that's for sure.

🔹🔹🔹

That was….a lot, Tim's dealt with a lot of weird shit in his day. people high off fear toxin, mind control, time vortex's, but this was just unsettling. In the GC Bruce described them as off, but mostly just disoriented, dazed maybe. They spoke gently and accepted their situation seemingly well. That's not what Tim saw, they were like a completely different person wearing his parent's face. The body language, the aggression, the tone infliction and way of speaking, that wasn't just a younger brain version of them, Tim's sure of it. Maybe they were more affected by the incident than anyone realized?….

Tim leaps rooftop to rooftop as he tries to puzzle it out, dropping down onto a fire escape and pausing, watching the hustle and bustle of Gothams nightlife. He'll figure out a way to help them, and that's a fact.

🔹🔹🔹

A/n: didn't forget Timmy boi was with Bruce, he just wanted to show up in dramatic fashion, this almost backfired on him spectacularly.

Taglist: @cxcilla @redsakura101 @mercuryathens @dind1n @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @thewitchblue

[orphiicheartd]

Kaeya used to be the kind of person to dance/vibe in place when he was younger. Humming something under his breath then bounce slightly to the rhythm, until he got distracted or he felt someone staring

These days, he would only do this if he REALLY feels himself comfortable and calm.

[tackrusso]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[miniimight]

3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)

the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.

he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.

he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.

"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.

he sighed. that was his cue.

he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.

he raised an eyebrow.

she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."

"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.

oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.

"mama." she said more adamantly.

he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."

whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.

sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."

"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.

"sleep."

"no."

he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.

growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.

he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.

her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.

"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."

she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.

she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.

he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"

she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.

she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.

"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.

"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.

his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.

"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.

sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.

when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.

you saved that picture for later <3

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ pilates princess

pairing: sunshine!reader x bf!rafe synopsis: rafe catches reader working out tags / warnings: fluff, smut (no actual sex but graphic descriptions of fantasies) wc: 900 a/n; this is for the pilates princesses (also originally this fic wasn't in the sunshineverse but it is now... mwahahahaha) originally posted 10/12/2024

rafe was knocking on your door impatiently, wanting to see you more than anything after the day he had, finding out that the development he had been busting his ass for for months had been delayed, but you weren't answering the door or even his texts telling you to open the door; that didn't stop him, the man knowing where your parents kept the spare key, getting it out of a pot of asterias, opening the door. you'd told him he could only use it 'only in case of emergencies', but to him, this constituted as an emergency.

rafe didn't bother to put the key back as he walked further into the house, hearing the noise of the television coming from your living room. he made his way to the living room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw exactly what had you so busy.

you were splayed on the floor, a pink workout mat underneath you, watching some workout video on your tv while your headphones were on, wearing a pair of pink fitness shorts that made your ass look so good he was almost drooling, along with a white sports bra, turned away from him, one of your hands splayed on the ground while the other one was bent on your head, one of your knees on the mat while your other was reaching up.

"jesus christ." he mumbled as he stared at you, the curve of your ass in those pink shorts causing his dick to stir in his shorts.

only a few seconds later, you moved to sit down on the mat, only to be startled by your boyfriend shamelessly ogling you, letting out a small gasp as you basically fell on your ass on the mat, your eyes widening.

you took off your headphones, throwing them onto the couch behind you, and even though your face was already warm and flushed, it seemed to get worse when you noticed him staring at you. "rafe!" you exclaimed as you stood up, his eyes now locked onto your hardened nipples under the sports bra, your tits almost pressed together, a sheen of sweat running down your cleavage.

"jesus fucking christ." he said, licking his lips slightly as you took your pink zip-up jacket and put it on, yet the way it clung to your body and the small sliver of your sports bra did almost nothing to hide how delicious you looked. "no, no, baby, don't stop on my accord." rafe grinned, his hands on your waist, aware that he was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on as he pulled you closer.

"i don't want you to see me all gross and sweaty." you pouted, and the way you sucked your lip in made nothing to calm down the obvious tent in his shorts.

"you look so fucking sexy right now." he said, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his hard-on press against your abdomen, the blonde letting out a small groan from only that contact. "literally, i've never... jesus."

"i'm not sexy right now." you roll your eyes, pushing away a stray hair that had stuck to your cheek, trying to look down in embarrassment.

"you're kidding, right?" rafe snorted, his hand going lower and lower, almost going to the curve to your ass. "i think you can feel how sexy you look, huh?" he took hold of your chin with his fingers, and lifted it up, making you look up at him. "if you didn't want to wait longer, do you know the things i'd do to you?"

"w-what?" you asked in a way that was almost a whisper, biting your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes.

"fuck, i'd just rip that cute little set off and take you right here on the couch. i'd make you ride me, give you a workout that's much better than this crap you're doing, your tits bouncing in my face, my hands gripping those pretty thighs... shit, i might cum just thinking about it."

you softly smacked him in the chest, feeling a warmth in your abdomen only he managed to cause, sure that you'd never blushed so hard in your life. "raafee..."

he brings your face up to his, bringing your lips to his as he bent down slightly, the kiss much more heated than any other kiss that you'd shared, his hand now on the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that made you gasp against his lips, his other hand now in your hair.

after a moment, you pulled away breathlessly, his erection had somehow gotten even worse than before, your lips swollen and a doe-eyed look in your eyes. "we should... uh, we should stop, since, you know..."

"yeah, i know baby." he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, before chuckling softly. "god, i'm not gonna forget this little outfit in a while. lemme take a pic of it?"

"noo, i look gross!"

"don't talk about my girl like that." he tsked, taking hold of your jaw. "come on, i need something to get myself off to later."

"alright, fine." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, before letting out a small chuckle as you started unzipping your jacket.

[rinnstars]

types of love trope!

type of love tropes of bllk guys <3

featuring: nagi, reo, sae, ness, yuukimiya, rin: short drabbles, fluff & angst, + likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

school romance: nagi seishiro

perhaps it’s equivalent to a string of fate - every year no matter what class, both you and nagi sit right beside each other at the left third row of the class without fail. you think it must be the universe showing signs that you two were soulmates if it wasn’t clear enough - both of you napping behind you textbooks, both of you liking and playing the same games at the same time, both of you chatting in an empty classroom every break time. its love, you think, his eyes dilates the same as you do to him, his face is uncharacterically painted with pink the same yours does when you lean in, and that same butterfly feeling erupts in his stomach the same way yours does. and its the same after school too, a routine unbreakable to the both of you - everyday after school you’d get lunch with him at the nearby school cafe, then you’d spend hours together at a nearby arcade whether it be playing rhythms games with matching gloves or even playing claw machine getting each others favourite sanrio characters matching your phone case, then you’d spend the remaining of your time at his place lazing around until your curfew to run back home with his voice chatting about anything and everything in your ears through your headphones decorated with stickers and parts bought by him. he thinks you might be the only thing waking up for - youre his morning alarm whenever you call him as youre waiting at the bus stop, youre his sunlight that he usually dreads to see but nowadays he runs down the stairs to catch a glimpse of you, youre the fire that inspires and ignites him to try new things or at least try a little more in life. and you think he’s the reason you haven’t ripped your hair out in the school - he’s your coffee to waking you up sweetly in class, poking your face as he stares at you with his big eyes, he’s your pillow that you sleep on and feel comfortable being your real self in a cutthroat academy, he’s your medicine that you kiss whenever you feel too overwhelmed behind the books that hides you from the teachers. and you hope, with all your heart, that he’ll stay forever even after the two of you graduate.

heartbreak: itoshi rin

a cycle of hurt you think - travelling from his older brother that shattered his heart that has led rin to break apart your heart with his bare hands reminiscent of the days where he broke apart pieces of lego in your room as a kid. you think its unfair how you’ve faced heartbreak this young - you’ve heard about it, talked about by relatives, seniors and parents, but never at fourteen. fourteen - you should be out having fun with all your friends playing games from the arcade, chatting about and meeting new people, trying new skills and hobbies and finding your passion. yet youre sitting here all alone eating the lunch you used to with rin, the rice now tasting salty and bitter with tears soaking it, youre here unable to enter any shops because you see rin’s ghost in there where he used to accompany you to every trip you’ve made after school, youre scared to find new people because you know, you just know it’ll be a repeat of you and rin, and youre too drained to even think of trying new things. you want to stay the same, to hope that one day if your rin comes back, he wont feel left out that you know he always feel, you want to be the constant, the earth that he can orbit around anytime as you have promised. but you know, deep down in your wounded heart, that its over. its over, no matter how much you pray to the universe, no matter how hard you sob and cry over rin, no matter how much you lock yourself in the room with his scent barely here anymore - itoshi rin will never come back. and at just fourteen, you learn of grief, you learn of abandonment and you learn of heartbreak because of him.

childhood sweetheart: alexis ness

you think you and him are two peas in one pod - always seen as a little weird for our interests. he’s always been fascinated with spells and magic and you alike, and you hope one day somehow you’ll be able to travel into the magic world inside the countless mangas you’ve read together at the playground. everyone thinks you two are silly, that you guys are just kids, but you were so sure back then that you were gonna be a fairy alongside him with the countless of spells learnt from shows. now you think a little different - maybe growing up meant having to let go of those childish dreams of waking up in a fairy world by closing our door and spraying those scam-like perfume, having to let go those now dusty fairy wands your parents keep in a cardboard box that you remember every spring cleaning season, having to let go of your fantasy to being with him. yet, you can’t bear to throw them away despite your parents insistence in doing so, that it takes too much space in their house. but, that would mean that there will be no longer any physical reminders of ness, your first childhood play buddy. and youre not sure if he ever got to keep those, especially when you see his family’s garage sale selling all his toys including those fairy mangas. you never met ness again, you think the universe is cruel for giving you a mere three years to be with him. yet you know all his quirks, you know how he has the tendency to be clingy, hugging and tugging at you mid roleplay, you know how he has the tendency to cry a little too easily at the slightest slip of his feet, you know how he has the tendency to believe things too naively. and you wonder if his family ever knows him, those tall and grown adults like slender men haunting his house that yells at him. but maybe, you hope, that one day he’ll come back to your house for one

in every lifetime: reo mikage

he’s too used to changing every aspect of himself - being the golden and perfect heir to his fathers empire, being the charming and friendly prince figure in all of his classmates vision, being the best at everything from academics to sports to the arts. there’s no room for him to fail, for him to stop the charades, for him to remove the mask he’s been wearing all his life. but with you, its like his walls are broken down, its like he isn’t just the heir or just the majestic prince - that he’s just reo. you think its silly for him to try so hard, you melt the walls of his heart before you know it to see the real him underneath the chameleon skin that wraps him and restrains his real self. you adore his real smile that is a little crooked, you adore his clumsy skipping that it’s clear he’s never tried, you adore his long talks about his interests in the cafe that is far from his usual taste. and he thinks you’d like him in all the versions of him - whether that be a jester in the court to the princess he’s sure you are, or the bee to you the prettiest flower he’s ever seen, or like barbie and ken he thinks maybe after rewataching the whole series and movies on your bed during the holidays. and you think the same too, that you’ll find him in every lifetime - whether that be a thief in the night accidentally stumbling a rebellious prince, be a cat stumbling into a wolf, be a bee stumbling across the flower that is him too. you think you and him are connected by a red string that stubbornly ties around both of you, leading to you guys to knock against each other each step you take, pulling you guys together from two worlds to collide together, for you guys to love each other despite the uncertainties and thorns that are ahead of your journey. but you know, in every lifetime, you’ll always be reo’s and reo will always be yours.

first love: yuukimiya kenyu

every spring, you get reminded of your first love - reminiscent of flowers that bloomed by the walls on your way to school, reminiscent of the colourful butterfly that landed always on him, reminiscent of the smell of sweet and floral spring that you would wake up to every morning. he was the spring to your winter, always brightening up your day with his bright smile and shining eyes. you think he’s changed you for the better - he’s made you used to waking up early in the morning so you wont ever be late for school missing half the things in your bag, he’s made you much more optimistic seeing everything in colours rather than the colourless world you were used to, he’s made you much more outspoken always encouraging you to speak up in class and every aspect of your life. he was the first epitome of love, sweet and warm embrace of personalisation of love he was. red love that melts right into your skin with each touch that leaves an everlasting print on your body, red love that reflects light that kisses your skin he same way he used to, red love that travels through your body and explodes in your chest, heart pumping full of love for him. he was your first everything - your first kiss, your first sleepover, your first boyfriend. but sometimes you wish he wasn’t just your first love that you wish that he was the love that lasted your whole lifetime - that he didn’t have to leave so soon with a broken heart that can never heal with that same sugary sweet smile that you fell in love with.

the one that got away: itoshi sae

somedays, you look at the polaroids of you and sae and you wonder what could’ve been. you know hes doing well in spain, youve heard about it on social media, from ex-classmates, from your parents. they ask you about him, how he is, how hes doing - but you dont want to admit that youve lost him a long time ago. you smile tightly and nod, laugh along and whatnot, but theres a drowning feeling in your heart that swallows you a little inside in a black hole at each question posed at you. you don’t want to admit that he’s far gone away somewhere else, somewhere else without you, somewhere else better than you - just holed up in your room, studying and studying. you’ve dreamt of staying with him, to receive him from the airport that night and every other times he’s come home, to have him stay in your room just like back then - just him and you lying on your bed with yours and his playlist on the record tape that has long become outdated. you’ve dreamt of just being with him, nothing changing between the two of you - where he still looked in your eyes, where he still visited your house, where he still shopped at that same run-down convenience store you used to go after school before he picked up his little brother. sometimes, you understand rin - both byproducts of sae’s filmsy and broken promises, both never moving on from the one that got away - and perhaps in another life, you hope, you plead, you wish to the universe or even god, that in a parallel universe, that he never left you heartbroken in the rain at the doorsteps of your house, that you selfishly wished he never left for spain in the first place, that he wasn’t the one that got away.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[wonderjanga]

I’m Never Going Back to That Farm

Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…

Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*

Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma

Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”

Supes and Marvel: *share a look*

Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”

Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*

Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”

Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*

Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*

As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.

Supes: “What’s all this?”

Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”

Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*

Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*

Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”

Supes: “Wife?!”

Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*

*silence*

Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”

Pa Kent: “And the kids?”

Supes: “Kids?!”

Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”

Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”

Supes: “He’s a year younger.”

Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”

Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*

So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.

Later during dinner…

Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”

Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*

Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*

Pa Kent: “And when you’re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”

Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”

Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”

Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.

Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.

Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.

Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.

Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.

Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christmas post, yay!

[cherie-doll]

How do you think characters like Nikto, Konig and Ghost would react to there kids finding there masks and putting them on?

omg that'd be so cute ToT

⫰ Nikto, König, Ghost

ᯤ I can just imagine how Nikto would be confused as to why the baby has something that looks so familiar to him. The baby pulls it over their head and Nikto panics for a moment thinking it might be dangerous but it has.. holes? He can see the baby's ice blue eyes inherited from him peeking through hole, and his mouth and nose too so no there's no danger of the baby suffocating. The baby smiles as he sees his father through the mask and Nikto realizes the baby has gone through his stuff. "That is not right for you..." He says as he picks the baby up in his arms, but after staring at him a moment his voice softens. "You wear it like this" as he fixes the mask on the baby.

ᯤ No way on earth you're letting your baby go anywhere near the old rag König calls a mask. It's shabby and likely hasn't ever been washed, and judging by the questionable stains on it has blood on it too. Still, your baby cries with arms outstretched for it. You sigh and try to think of what to do. If König got home and found out why the baby was crying he'd hand him the mask without hesitating. Instead, you got the brilliant idea of making a new one, should be easy right? After all, König didn't break his head crafting one, just pick up any old shirt and cut some holes in it. But the baby still doesn't want it? Ah, it's missing König's scent, which the baby still smells and seeks. You spray some of his cologne and let the baby wear it. Imagine the surprise König comes home to when he sees a mini him, now he'll put his on too.

ᯤ Recently, Simon has noticed the interest the baby has had in skulls and skeletons. He thought it would have passed after halloween but it seems that's not the case. He carefully brings out his mask, weighing it in his hands, his fingertips tracing the bone. The mask catches the baby's attention right away and crawls over to him, chubby fingers wrapping around half of it while Simon still holds the other end. The small hand doesn't look apt to hold it, much less wear it. But he permits it as the baby brings it close to his face, holding it over. The feelings that come to him are contradicting; finding the moment endearing but also sentimental. The mask that's too heavy for the child to wear, much too young for it. It's not something that should appeal to a child, it represents everything he's had to survive from off of the bare bones he's scavenged to carve something out of his life. With a gentle but firm hand he plucks it out of the baby's hands and hides it away.

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

[lovebugism]

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

[triptuckers]

nothing without you - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing:  remy lebeau x reader Summary:  remy loses his beloved cards and you figure something out about him Warnings:  mentions of anxiety, mentions of blood/wounds (nothing big), remy is a lil sad :( Word count: 1.5K A/N: do I know anything about gambit or his lore? no. I do know I went to see deadpool & wolverine again and now I need him to call me chéri. enjoy!

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you knew remy loved his cards. after a while you'd lost track trying to count them. in every pocket of every piece of clothing he owned, you'd find a deck of cards. it was an entire chore to empty all of his pockets before doing laundry. and still some of them would end up in the washing machine, and they'd come out all soggy and messed up.

if he would round them all up, you're sure he'd be able to fill an entire storage box. he always had at least one pack of cards on him.

but there was always that one favorite pack of cards. the one he took with him on missions, the one he always had on him "just in case".

and now it's missing.

ever since he found out he lost it, remy has been heartbroken.

you helped him search for it, turning the whole place upside down. remy was the first to give up the search. he told you he'd accepted the fact he lost them, but you knew he was just too sad to have lost them to keep on searching.

his powers didn't have anything to do with that specific deck of cards, they were simply his favorite. he'd had them since he was a kid, learned all of his skills with them. of course they were special to him.

you tried to cheer him up by getting him a new deck and talking about his other decks, but nothing seemed to help.

you'd noticed he'd grown more restless since losing the cards.

from the moment you met him, you had only ever seen him with a deck of cards in his hand. safe for the moments where he was doing something that required both of his hands. but his fingers were never far from the cards.

now that he's lost them, he's constantly holding on to other things. you'd never really considered remy to be a very anxious person, but he's fidgeting constantly now.

if you're sitting next to him he's playing with your fingers or the hem of your shirt. he's tapping patterns that make no sense to you on your thigh. he'd repeatedly tap his own fingertips against each other.

right now, he's sitting on the couch after getting back from a mission. he got a nasty cut on his forehead but otherwise he was fine. you just got back from fetching the first aid kit from the kitchen when you see him staring off into space while rapidly tapping his fingers on his leg.

'hey.' you say, sitting on the salon table in front of him.

he blinks a few times before his eyes settle on yours.

'you okay?' you ask.

remy nods, but you can tell something's bothering him. you decide to let it rest until after you take care of him. it can wait.

you scoot closer to him, opening the first aid kid.

'I'll need to clean it first, before I can bandage it.' you say softly. 'it might sting a little.'

'it's okay, chéri.' he says.

you carefully put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton wad and lean in. as you gently press it on his forehead, remy sucks in a breath and closes his eyes.

'sorry.' you say, as you start to slowly wipe the cotton wad over the wound to get rid of the dirt and blood.

you feel something on your leg and when you briefly glance down, you see remy is fidgeting with a loose thread of your pants. they were really his, but you stole them so long ago they're basically yours now. you always had to roll them up a couple of times before you could wear them, otherwise they were too long.

as you get out a fresh cotton wad, you notice remy still has his eyes closed. he really hasn't been the same since he lost his favorite deck of cards, and you're worried about him.

'remy?' you say.

he hums in response as you lean in to finish cleaning the wound on his forehead. you put the bloody cotton wad on the ground next to you so you can throw it away later.

'talk to me. what's going on?' you say.

'I didn't look where I was going, the knife barely missed me but it nicked me. I should-'

'I'm not talking about today's mission, love.'

remy opens his eyes and looks at you with a slight frown on his face. you give him a soft smile.

'you've been... different. and it's okay, I just want to know how I can help you. you haven't been yourself since you lost your favorite cards.'

he closes his eyes again and leans into your touch as you bandage his forehead. his fingers are still playing with your pants.

'they keep my mind off of things.' he says eventually.

'the cards?' you say.

remy nods. 'I've got something to do with my hands. I can think about the cards. not about... other stuff.'

'all done, my love.' you say, when you finish bandaging him up. you press a soft kiss to the bandage and look down to find remy looking up at you.

'thank you, mon amour.'

'you're welcome.'

you get up to put the first aid kit away and throw the trash out. then you get back to join remy on the couch.

his fingers immediately take a hold of yours as he starts to play around with them.

'you know, I never figured you for a very anxious person.' you say.

'I'm not.'

'baby, you can't keep your finger still. and when you're doing something with both of your hands, your leg is always bouncing up and down.'

remy frowns. 'I do that?'

'it's usually something people do subconsciously. then again, being the gambit is a pretty stressful job.'

'I guess.'

you turn to look at remy. 'you really miss your cards, huh?'

'chéri, you have no idea.' sighs remy.

'I'm sorry we didn't find them.' you say.

'it's not your fault.' says remy, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. he knows it's not anyone's fault but his own. he probably lost them somewhere outside, because they did search the entire house. every cabinet and under every piece of furniture.

'how about we watch a movie? try to get your mind off of it for at least an hour or two?' you suggest.

'sure, alright.' says remy.

'you pick the movie, I'll get the snacks.' you say, getting up to go to the kitchen.

you get out a bowl and half a bag of popcorn. you dump it in the bowl and stuff the empty package in the trash, which is nearly overflowing. knowing it'll only annoy you in the morning, you let out a sigh as you take it out.

after taking it out of the bin - which took more effort than you would have liked - you close it and take it out the backdoor. just as you throw it in the larger bin outside, something purple catches your eye.

you walk over to where it is sticking out from under the bin. as you drag the bin away so you can take a closer look, you see a familiar rectangular box.

remy's beloved cards. his very favorite deck.

you quickly snatch it up and head back inside.

when you get back to the living room you see remy has picked one of your favorite movies.

'hey.' he says, glancing over his shoulder at you. 'no snacks?'

'I've got something better.' you say.

remy looks over his shoulder again and his eyes land on your bright smile, then drop to your hands.

'tada!' you say. 'found them outside under the bin! I knew we didn't lose them and they had to be around somewhere so I-'

you're cut off when remy grabs your face and kisses you. you hadn't even noticed him getting up and walking to you in two quick and long strides.

'mon amour, you're the best!' he says, smiling at you. he kisses you again and you can feel he's still smiling.

he pulls back and takes the deck of cards you're holding up for him. instantly, he takes them out of the case and twirls them around, throwing them in the air and catching them again.

you watch as his face lights up. you're so glad he's got his favorite cards and he looks like your remy again. you watch him for a while, following the cards with your eyes.

eventually, he puts them away and pulls you against his chest, making you laugh as he hugs you tight.

'oh, what would I do without you?' he says as he pulls back slightly so he can look at you.

'well you'd have to find someone new to fix you up after a fight. and to find your cards. and take care of-'

'alright, alright, I get it, I'm nothing without you.'

'and don't you forget it.'

'I won't, chéri, I promise you I never will.'

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Do It For Me

Pairing: Marcus Lopez Arguello x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: After pissing off Brandy and finally getting what was coming for you. Looking for a quick way out, your eyes luckily land on the new kid. Thinking on your feet, you swoop I'm in for a little kiss to try and ward off the wolves that were on your trail.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Fake Dating'

*Gif does not belong to me

Your slightly heeled boots clicked through the hallway quickly, walking at a steady pace so as to not let on to how much worry was flooding through your body. You hadn't meant to piss off Brandy, scratch that, you hadn't meant to piss off Brandy enough that she'd get her whole cheerleading squad to go after you.

That's why you were hurridly walking down the school corridor, not even bothering to look over your shoulder as you could hear their pig-squeal-laughs as they followed. As you went you could see heads start to turn when they heard the parade of cheerleaders, their eyes only setting on you after they realised what was happening. The more heads that turned, the more you began to realise just how doomed you might be.

It was only when your eyes landed on some guy you had never seen before. He stood tall as he opened his locker, shoving something into it that vaguely looked like some teddy bear that had poorly been impaled. Your eyes quickly scanned over him, trying to put together the puzzle pieces as to who he might be.

You have never seen him before in one of your classes, which could just mean he was in the year above but you didn't think so. He seemed too fresh, unaware of what he was getting himself into to be familiar with this place.

That was when you remembered what Billy had been telling you. Some new kid was being recruited into this school. Some child killer. The orphanage killer, or something like that.

You had no idea what this killer was meant to look like. Billy had told you stories but even then he hadn't said anything about the boy's features. How could he? He had never seen him before last night or whenever it was that the green-haired boy slunk off with his skateboard and too much excitement flickering through his bones.

You couldn't help but count this as a win as you realised this was the boy who set that orphanage on fire. Never had you thought you would say those words in your head.

Changing the course of your walk, you head straight for the new kid, placing a heavy hand on the locker next to his head and staring up with a large smile. Eyes were instantly on the two of you. If someone hadn't been staring at one of the two of you before, they definitely were now.

"Look who finally decided to show up after my months of begging." You exclaim, saying the first words that come to mind to make it seem like the two of you had known each other previous to joining the school. His head snapped towards you when the slam of your hand had first sounded, face full of shock which now morphed to confusion at your words. "You could've told me you were coming."

"Do I know you?" The boy said, voice not as loud as yours. It seemed he was trying to keep his words on the down low so as to not embarrass you in case you had made a mistake. How sweet.

"Don't be silly," You laughed, your voice calming but still loud enough for any onlookers to easily hear. Lowly though, your teeth bared in a smile to try and not draw too much attention to your next words though, you say, "Just play along."

He blinked almost owlishly at you in return as if your intentions still weren't setting in. You rolled your eyes, your irises landing on the teddy bear that had in fact been stabbed in his locker, a not stuck to it. You sniffed at that. Seems like you were right.

"Oi, cunt," One of the girls--one that you had never bothered to learn the name of--yelled from not too far away, her and her pack catching up to you.

That was the only kickstart you needed to reach up and grab onto the boy's face, pulling him down so he reached your height and smashing your faces together. Your lips moved quickly, almost in sync as he finally realised what was happening.

Reaching a hand up to place on your hip, the other awkwardly hanging in the air before cupping your cheek, he angled your face up slightly so it would be easier for him to kiss you back.

You could hear the sudden stop of shoes as the group after you stopped a few feet away, watching with wide eyes as you kissed the boy's home killer. Someone whistled, probably some lowlife or one of your friends who were also lowlifes. You didn't care though, not when you heard the muttering or the laughing, not when a horde of footsteps kept walking, acting as if nothing had happened.

It was only when the bell rang did you pulled back, taking a big breath of air in as you looked up at the boy through hooded eyes. Hopefully, you didn't share any classes with him or this was going to be an awkward few hours.

"I'm Marcus," The boy says, blinking at you with a smile on his face as if he couldn't believe what just happened.

You returned his smile, grinning up at him sharply. "Hi Marcus, you just saved my arse." Slowly, you push yourself off the locker you had been leaning against, ready to go about your day as if nothing had happened. Marcus didn't seem to like the sound of that.

"What, no name?" He teased, shutting his locker and trailing after you, not caring if the storage unit was actually locked. "I did just save your arse, according to you."

"Don't you think it's a bit too early for me to give you my name?" You joked, walking down the hall without stopping or waiting for him to catch up.

"Well, you did kiss me," Marcus pointed out, grinning cheekily as he fell into step next to you. "I think that you should count for something."

"I don't kiss and tell," You said simply, leaving him to wonder for a little bit longer.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me your name," He started, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his blazer pocket. Unfolding it, he turned it around and showed it off to you. "Could you at least tell me where my next class is?"

You take one look at the piece of paper and say, "Fuck."

[writingmar]

hi, can I request the combination A2 and F7 for Spencer Reid smut prompts, please?? Thanks <333

'𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.'

𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Prompt A2: dryhumping + F7: in a car - (prompts lists)

after a long day of working a case, one of the BAU cars broke down, which means that all six of you have to pile into a five person car. luckily, spencer offers his lap for you as a seat...

wc: 1.1k

content & tw: sensual fluff, public, dry humping.

a/n: this is much tamer than my usual writing but i rlly enjoyed it!

'oh, for fucks sake,' JJ says as she turns the key in the ignition. the car sputters and shakes with all its might but it doesn't start. 'i'm never renting from this company again, this thing has been having issues the entire time.'

'here, let me try,' you say as you bend over the center console to try the key for yourself, but obviously, it doesn't change anything. JJ grabs her phone and calls someone. 'hey, rossi, our car has broken down, could we hitch a ride to the hotel..? yeah, i know, we'll squeeze in... great, thanks, we'll see you in a minute.'

'don't the boys have a five-seater?' you ask as JJ hangs up the phone. she looks over at you with a sweet smile. 'yeah, but like i said, we'll squeeze in. and besides, i've been seeing you eye spencer, and he'll be polite enough to offer you a seat.'

you feel your cheeks heat and tell JJ to shut up, but you know damn well she's right. you have been eyeing spencer for a while. in fact, you've been doing more than that. unspoken moments together in hallways, soft touches during long days which end in secret randez-vous in hotel rooms late at night. during those meetings, spencer shows a different side of himself, the built up sensual tension from the entire day unloading onto you, and you know he loves that day long chase.

when the boys pull up, rossi is in the passenger seat with hotch driving. spencer and derek sit in the backseat. when derek opens the door and moves to the middle seat, you can already hear spencer rambling. 'driving with too many people in the car, particularly with one person sitting on another's lap, poses significant safety risks and is illegal in many places. the likelihood of severe injury or death increases for all passengers when seat belts are not used properly. according to the CDC, seat belt use reduces the risk of death by 45% and the risk of serious injury by 50% for front-seat occupants. For those in the rear seats, the reduction in risk of death is 25%.'

you smile as you hear his voice, JJ already having taken derek's spot, meaning the car is now full. you open the door at spencers seat, 'well, then i guess i'll sit in one of the rear seats, seeing as that cuts my risk of death in half,' you say, moving yourself to sit in spencers lap.

'no, wait, that's not what i meant, i just-' spencer starts to ramble again, his cheeks warming as you sit yourself down on his legs. derek cuts him off and says, 'well then you better hold on tight, pretty boy. be her seat belt.'

spencer looks confused and a bit panicked for a second, but when hotch starts the car, he wastes no time and wraps his arms around you. 'kids, behave back there,' he says as he pulls away.

rossi starts talking to hotch about today's case, a serial killer in the midwest, while JJ keeps derek's eyes on her in conversation. you and spencer are in a little bubble, even with four others in the car, no one is focussed on the two of you.

every time hotch turns a corner or hits a speed bump, your ass moves slightly over spencers crotch, and you feel his arms tighten around you. the drive will be about half an hour, but you can tell its going to be the longest thirty minutes of your life when you start to feel something growing underneath you.

you turn your head to look at spencer, who stares straight ahead. you always wonder what happens in his mind, but especially now. after another speed bump, he closes his eyes and his lips part slightly as you feel a twitch under you.

you start to grin, his desperate attempts to keep himself composed absolutely adorable. you decide to push your luck, grinding yourself down on him subtly. he moves one hand to your hip, grabbing it tightly and stilling you. you're afraid you might have gone too far.

when you look back at him, he is no longer staring forward. his eyes are fixed on you, and he starts to pull your hip back and forth. you open your mouth slightly in a surprised gasp, not expecting him to be so bold.

JJ and derek's chatter beside you, rossi and hotch's in front, and the two of you completely silent. the radio plays softly, and you're sure nobody is actually listening, but you will never be able to listen to this song like you used to before. taylor swift's 'wildest dreams' is now the soundtrack to an intimate moment between you two, and you know you'll remember this whenever you hear it again.

spencer keeps his movements subtle and slow, not pulling any attention to the two of you. the tension is almost palpable, and you truly hope nobody notices, but the people in this car are bold enough to say something if they do.

every soft gasp coming from spencer's lips, ever small furrow as his brow, but especially every bit of movement and every twitch from his cock makes you wetter and wetter, and you know damn well that you won't be alone in your hotel room tonight.

his hand that's not on your hip holds onto you tightly, squeezing the skin on your side as he desperately tries to get you closer, maybe even to get you alone.

the drive seems to last forever, but when the car comes to a halt, it feels like only 5 minutes have passed. you hadn't realised how much you had been pulled into the moment, and judging by spencers sigh, he hadn't either.

'well we made it. go to sleep, everyone. this case is far from closed,' hotch says as you all climb out of the car. you smile at spencer, his eyes still fixed on you. 'get some rest, spence, i'll see you tomorrow.'

derek takes one look at you two and smiles at the floor. as you walk towards the door, you hear derek talk to spencer, mocking your words, 'yeah, reid, get some rest.'

'shut up,' spencer said, his voice cracking slightly on the nerves, but you know that in about thirty minutes, he will be knocking on your hotel room door and he will be everything but for nervous...

[tpwk-formula1]

Girl prepare for a big one I’m sorry 😭

Gluten free, deep dish with Red sauce, Jalapeños, Tomato’s, and Ham, with Sun tea and a Vodka redbull and dessert?

Served by Lewis Hamilton

Special request: “can there be a fight for dominance but the reader looses?” Love the menu btw 💗💗💗

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten free rivals deep dish teammates red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" sun tea sir kink vodka redbull squirting dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x Rival Teammate! reader

TW - MEAN asf Lewis, reader can fight back, sorry for the things I said about you Kimi (I love you I promise!), squirting, unprotected sex, face slapping (once), multiple orgasms, truthfully might be the roughest sex I have written for this vlog (maybe other than Kinktober)

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

The meeting was finally over which had Lewis and I both popping up and scurrying off into our respective driver's room. We just finished our debrief after the Singapore qualifying after Lewis and I were found fighting in the garage when I refused to give him a slipstream after he didn't give me one back in Monza when I needed it.

Toto left the meeting at "You guys need to figure your shit out. Fuck or something." He even suggested. If only he knew...

I'm packing up my stuff when I hear a loud bang coming from Lewis's room making me stop and stare at the wall that connects our room before I hear Lewis should a loud fuck.

I slowly leave my room looking into the garage to see if anyone had heard Lewis's outbreak. When I noticed the entire garage was completely empty I walked next door to knock softly.

When I didn't get a response I trained my ears to see if Lewis was in the shower. When I can't hear the shower I softly open the door to find Lewis changing into a different pair of pants making my eyes instantly notice the bulge hidden from his briefs. I could tell he was far from rock hard which had my mind racing.

"Do you know how to fucking knock?" Lewis snaps making my eyes instantly move from staring at his bulge making my face grow hot slightly.

"I did knock," I snap back before turning to leave.

"No, wait!" Lewis shouted not letting me get a clean escape.

"What?" I ask while stepping into Lewis's room and closing the door behind me giving us some privacy in case we get into another screaming match.

"Why are you even in here?" Lewis asked referring to me coming in, in the first place.

"I heard a bang and then you shouted. Just wanted to make sure you where okay," I tell Lewis softly making Lewis nod.

"Ah, so you do have a heart! Spent the past three years convinced you where the fucking tin man," Lewis tells me with a sarcastic laugh falling from his lips.

"Lewis, literally shut the fuck up. You're getting replaced by a child next year because you threw a tantrum when Toto didn't give you what you wanted," I tell him makingg Lewis's face grow red in anger.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're the one who might get replaced by Max next year is Toto can swoon him," Lewis snaps back making me shrug my shoulders.

"Eh, at least I know the person replacing me has talent. Your replacement fucking crashed my car on lap three last time he got behind the wheel," I reply back trying to show the situation doesn't stress me out.

"You're fucking petty as shit. When Kimi crashed you were all like 'oh no I hope he's okay! He's just too sweet he better be okay'," Lewis replied back in a voice that was clearly trying to mock my voice.

"You're so fucking ridiculous Lewis. I wish it was you who retired and not Nico," I snap with vemon lacing my voice making Lewis stride towards me and push me against the wall. I knew I took it a step to far but truthfully I didn't care. I trusted that Lewis wouldn't hurt me but at the same time even if he did it wouldn't be the first time we hurt each other. While it was always words I could take a slap to the face like a champ.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off? Because you're a fucking child. You know that? Everyone has to walk on eggshells around you because one wrong move and BOOM the little Mercedes driver with the anger problems is throwing another fucking tantrum," Lewis spits his words into my face making me pull a disgusted face to try and mask the hurt coursing through me.

"You're a fucking asshole, Lewis Hamilton," I spit back making Lewis finally crash his lips onto mine making me gasp against his lips in shock before slightly relaxing into the kiss before pushing Lewis away once I realize who I was kissing.

"Don't fucking do this shit again," I snap at him before both of us fall silent just staring at each other while breathing rapidly.

It was clockwork for us, we go at each other's throats and somehow find ourselves in each other's bed to somehow kiss and make up, but in reality, all it is, is putting a fucking bandaid on a bullet hole.

At the same moment, Lewis and I are back to aggressively making out fighting for dominance. I get Lewis to the bed first making him sit down before I start pushing at his shoulders before I'm climbing into his lap taking control, which lasts about .3 seconds before I am being flipped around resulting in my back roughly hitting the hard physio table.

"Always such a fucking brat, trying to take control like that's your role," Lewis says while grinding his hips into mine making me moan at the pleasure.

"One of these days your little outbursts and attitude is gonna leave you ass so sore you won't be able to race," Lewis says making me roll my eyes at his threats.

"Then you won't get the damn slipstream you want so bad," I fight back with a satisfied smirk on my face with is quickly slapped off. I mean literally, Lewis slapped my face not necessarily softly but far from as hard as he could.

Lewis knew I loved when he mixed a bit of pain with my pleasure and early on found out he could send a quick slap to my face and it'll shut me up pretty quickly.

I just whimper when the sting settles in and I register what happened. Lewis is instantly gripping at my clothes and undressing me with no problem.

When I'm completely bare for Lewis he's like a madman being released because his mouth is instantly all over my pussy while also slipping three fingers into my unprepared hole making me softly scream at the stretch.

Lewis is instantly throwing his free hand over my mouth successfully muffling my screams not wanting anyone to walk by and hear what is going on between the two known rivals.

Lewis knew exactly what he was doing, so it was no shocker to him when I started begging to cum.

"Please, sir. I need it," I whine against his large hand that is still covering my mouth.

"Go on, it's the only thing you're good at," Lewis finally gives me permission making me instantly release my orgasm spraying my pleasure all over Lewis's face and soaking the shirt he was still wearing.

When I gether myself enough I look down to see the damage that has been done and it was so hot to see Lewis soaked with my juices.

"You're giving me at least two more before I even think about giving you my cock," Lewis said roughly while still finger fucking me making me whimper at the overstimulation.

Lewis knew my body better than anyone else ever has, which is only because he tied me to my hotel bed and explored my body until the sun rose finding all the ways he could make me cum, scream, whine, beg, you name it he probably discovered it that night. The night he found out I could squirt several times in a row in quick succession if he just kept going.

"Sir," I announce loudly when I feel the band in my stomach start to grow again.

"Go on," Lewis says with a sass in his voice almost like he was annoyed.

"Oh fuck," I whimper out when I finally feel the band snap making me start spraying all over Lewis's driver's room again.

"God, you're so fucking easy. I bet I could make you squirt if I looked at you hard enough," Lewis said in mockery knowing damn well he could blow a little bit of air on my clit and I'd be cumming for him in a matter of seconds.

"I need one more," Lewis said while speeding up his fingers again making me whine when I feel my third orgasm approaching making me squirm trying to get away but Lewis was far stronger than me making it easy to overpower me and keep me down while he finger fucks me into another squirting orgasm that has me gasping for air. I could hear my squirt hitting difference surfaces around us making the deed that much dirtier.

I am sure everyone will hear about this by the next race because no way the poor cleaner who has to come in after us will keep their mouth shut when they realize the dried liquid all around the room is in fact the evidence of the pleasure of the female driver.

"Good fucking girl! Good to know your ears work sometimes," Lewis says while stepping away from my pussy before sending a rough slap down on my sensitive clit making me jerk and a little bit a squirt come out making Lewis laugh at the slut he had turned me into for him.

"Please sir, more," I gasp when I feel Lewis's tip teasing my dripping entrance inviting him to sink in.

"You know you're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" says Lewis as he sinks into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.

"Fucking hell, how are you still this fucking tihgt?" Lewis questions while he starts thrusting making me whimper feeling the stretch all over my body.

"Fuck, I'm gonna have to spend more time in you, maybe make you sleep with my cock burried in this pussy, make it a perfect fucking fit for me to play with," Lewis continues making me whimer and clench around him.

"So good, sir," I gasp when Lewis's hips are snapping into mine at a brutal pace.

"Fuck! How are you about to cum again," Lewis groans when he feels my pussy contracting around his cock ready to fall into another orgasm.

"You know what to do," Lewis says giving me permission for my fourth orgasm of the night making me scream out loudly.

My tightening pussy was Lewis's final straw because next thing I know he's pulling out and cumming on my stomach making sure to paint my tits a bit with his cum.

He loved the way he could coat my body in his cum.

Once Lewis settles down from his pleasure he climbs out of the hard bed looking for a towel he can use to whip me down.

Once I'm clean from his cum he pulls me up slightly so he can stand between my legs while he holds me to his chest.

"You think Toto knows the truth?" I mumble against Lewis's tattooed chest making me chuckle softly.

"Probably and if not before he's definitely gonna think we listened to his advice," Lewis jokes making me laugh with him.

"We have a problem," I mumble burying my face into his chest not wanting to admit the problem.

"What is it, sweet girl?" Lewis questions showing me the sweet side I only got to see after moments like this or early in the morning when we knew no one could see that the two rivals actually had hearts.

"I can't feel my legs and I truthfully do not want to get into someone else's car covered in sweat and cum," I mumble making Lewis laugh lightly.

"Well you have in fact left your sweat and cum in my car so I'll take us back to the hotel, and I have no issues holding you until you're ready," Lewis tells me softly before picking me up into his arms and pulling us to the couch where he held me.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have screamed in your face like that," Lewis apologizes clearly embarrassed by his actions.

"I said some pretty ugly things too. I think we need to work on that," I tell him softly making him hum in agreeance.

"Still want you to fuck me like that, even if it does make driving a bit uncomfortable," I tell him making Lewis let out a belly laugh.

"I'll always fuck you like a whore. You love it too much for me to stop," Lewis tells me making me smile.

We lay like that for another thirty minutes before we heard a knock on the door before we could hear Toto's voice shout, "I see you took my advice! It better fucking work!"

Lewis and I just laugh at being called out but make no move to get up and get dressed knowing Toto wasn't going to open the door.