#I gave him this quirk cause it's something I do too

[quinny19]

Title: Sleeping my way to victory

Bakugo had never met anyone as infuriating as you.

You were quiet. You were lazy. You slept through class, slept through fights, and somehow, somehow still managed to be one of the strongest people in Class 1-A.

It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t fair.

And worst of all? You never took him seriously.

Every time he challenged you, you yawned, stretched, and beat him without even trying. It was humiliating, and he swore on his future as the number one hero that one day, he’d wipe that smug, half-asleep look off your face.

Until then, he’d keep challenging you. Over and over.

Scenario 1: A Typical School Day (ft. Bakugo Losing His Mind)

Class 1-A’s morning routine was always chaotic.

Iida was lecturing someone about being on time. Uraraka and Mina were chatting about their favorite snacks. Midoriya was furiously scribbling in his notebook.

And you?

You were fast asleep at your desk.

Like always.

Head resting on your folded arms, steady breathing, completely unfazed by the noise around you.

Bakugo, sitting one seat away, twitched violently. "HOW the hell do you sleep through this shit?! It’s morning, dumbass, wake up!"

You made a vague noise of protest, cracking one eye open to look at him. "Mmm… too early."

"IT’S NOT TOO EARLY!"

Kirishima chuckled from behind Bakugo, nudging his shoulder. "Dude, you should be used to this by now."

Denki leaned over, grinning. "Yeah, man, it’s kinda cute how much you care."

Bakugo froze. "I DON’T CARE!"

"Ohhh, sure," Denki teased, wiggling his eyebrows. "That’s why you always try to wake them up, right?"

Kirishima smirked. "Yeah, what’s up with that, huh? You like watching them sleep or something?"

Bakugo turned bright red. "I—WHAT—SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Meanwhile, you had already dozed off again, completely missing the chaos you had caused.

Scenario 2: Another Challenge, Another Loss

"Oi, lazy-ass. Get up."

You groaned, rolling onto your side on the training field’s grass. "No."

"GET UP AND FIGHT ME!"

You sighed heavily, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Again?"

Bakugo growled, cracking his knuckles. "I swear, I’ll win this time."

You gave him a slow, amused blink. "Mmm. Didn’t you say that last time? And the time before that? And before that?"

"SHUT UP AND FIGHT ME!"

You yawned, stretching. "Fine. But if I win, you have to buy me lunch."

"LIKE HELL I—"

"You’re the one challenging me, Kacchan. It’s only fair."

He clenched his fists, then snarled, "Tch. Whatever."

The second Aizawa gave the signal, Bakugo launched himself forward, explosions propelling him toward you. His palm sparked, ready to finally land a hit—

And then—

You dodged.

Not just dodged—sidestepped without even looking, like you already knew where he was going to attack.

He gritted his teeth. "You—!"

Another explosion. Another effortless dodge.

And then, as if to mock him, you let out another yawn.

During the fight.

"Are you—ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SLEEPY RIGHT NOW?!"

"Mmm," you hummed, blinking lazily. "You move too much, Kacchan. You should try relaxing."

"RELAXING?!"

And then—before he could react—your quirk activated.

A sudden wave of pressure rippled across the battlefield, and before Bakugo knew it, he was airborne, sent flying backward by a controlled burst of your power.

He crashed into the dirt, groaning.

You rubbed your eyes, sighing. "Told you so."

Aizawa called the match. "Winner: (L/N)."

Bakugo sat up, seething. "You… lazy… bastard…"

You walked over and crouched beside him, offering a hand. "Guess you’re buying me lunch, huh?"

He slapped your hand away. "LIKE HELL I AM!"

From the sidelines, Denki and Kirishima snickered.

"Man, Bakugo, you get your ass kicked by (Y/N) a lot, huh?"

"Shut up!"

"Are you sure you’re not just doing this to spend time with them?" Denki smirked.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Scenario 3: The Simulation Training (Or, How You Slept Your Way to Victory)

U.A.’s latest training exercise was a massive simulation—designed to test endurance, battle strategy, and survival skills.

It was an all-out free-for-all.

Students had to eliminate robots, avoid hazards, and outlast each other in a controlled battlefield.

Bakugo was ready. He was determined to finally, finally beat you.

Except—

Twenty minutes in—

You were asleep.

Like, actually asleep.

Sitting on a rooftop, arms crossed, napping.

And somehow? Some-fucking-how—

You were still in first place.

Bakugo nearly had a stroke watching you take down an entire fleet of enemy bots while half-asleep. You barely moved, just flicked your fingers and redirected energy waves that erased everything in your path.

He was losing to someone who wasn’t even awake.

"OH, COME ON!"

At the end of the match, the rankings appeared on the screen:

1st Place – (L/N) (Y/N)

Bakugo stared at the scoreboard, trembling.

Denki patted his back. "Damn, dude. You lost to a sleeping person."

Kirishima grinned. "That’s gotta hurt."

Bakugo turned to you, absolutely fuming. "HOW THE HELL DID YOU EVEN WIN?!"

You blinked sleepily at him, rubbing your eyes. "Mmm… dunno. Maybe I dreamed of me winning?"

He twitched. "DREAMED?! "

You yawned again, giving him a lazy grin. "Guess you’re just not strong enough yet, Kacchan."

Bakugo’s face turned scarlet. "I SWEAR TO GOD—!"

Denki snickered. "Damn, (Y/N), you’re really good at making Bakugo mad."

Kirishima smirked. "Or flustered."

Bakugo choked. "I’M NOT FLUSTERED!"

You just shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. "Wake me up when you’re strong enough to win, Kacchan."

And with that, you walked off—completely ignoring the way Bakugo stood there, fists clenched, steam practically coming out of his ears.

Denki grinned. "Man… he’s so down bad for them."

Kirishima nodded. "Yup. Definitely."

Bakugo whirled around, furious. "*I AM NOT!"

[blastiebabe]

didn't i tell you to bring your own damn jacket?

Bakugo Katsuki x fem! Reader

After months of silently flirting with each other, you and Katsuki is finally going on your first official date. Not that going out alone is new to you two. But after having a heated argument about something you can't even remember, it shocked you that Katsuki accidentaly confessed. And for the love of god, you are accidentally in love with him too. That night stared with anger but ended with both your feelings out in the open

Your friendship with him before the confession has always been considered rough by your friends. You two always fight, your attitude towards each other always causes friction, but when it comes to the important things it's also you two who immediately understands each other. Hard example is when during training, whenever you two are grouped together, the coordination is always so smooth that it looks like you have planned the strategy for months when the mission was just given that same day

That's why it's no new news for you and Katsuki to clash on your date night. "Didn't I tell you to bring your own damn jacket?" He asks while you try to grab and remove his jacket that he is currently wearing

"Didn't I also tell you that it'd ruin my outfit if I did?" You fight back, trying so hard to grab the jacket when it takes him no effort to let it stay on his body. "Give me it, Katsuki. I'm really cold."

"No, brat. You know I also hate cold." Katsuki says firmly. Honestly, you understand him, he did remind you to bring your own jacket. It is clearly you who is being unreasonable. You look at him, realizing you are in the wrong. Instead of admitting defeat, you walk faster, leaving him behind. "Let's just go, I'm getting hungry."

He catches up to you, grabs your right hand, and intertwined your fingers. "How about I warm you up a bit?"

"You better do."

When you arrived at the restaurant where you and Katsuki will eat. The menu makes you excited, you feel something really absurd, you want that damned strawberry chocolate bingsu.

Katsuki noticed you were looking at it for so long. "Oi, are you serious? Aren't you freezing already?"

You know damn well he is right, again. You just pout and chose something warm from the menu. When the waiter came and Katsuki was identifying the orders, you were shocked when the last thing he ordered was that strawberry cheesecake bingsu that you liked. When the waiter left, you gave him a happy and excited smile.

"Yeah, yeah, you're gonna freeze to death later, brat." You still gave him big smiles. "I'll just go to the bathroom." Katsuki says before standing up, when he walk past you, he taps your head softly.

You smile, knowing damn well that even though he'll fight with you, he will also be willing to fight anyone for you to get what you want. You realize how genuinely more alive and exciting your life became when you got together with Katsuki. Life just... became more bearable with him.

You feel him coming back when you felt the warmth of a cloth wrap around you, when you look behind your shoulder, you see Katsuki wrapping his jacket over your shoulders. When he sat in front of you, you see the obvious redness around his arms with subtle mark of his hands around it. He warmed himself up using his quirk, he fucking warmed himself up for you.

"Katsuki, what did you do?" You ask, trying to act clueless.

"I just gave you my jacket, you spoiled ass."

"Did you use your quirk to warm youself up?" He looked at you like it was the most obvious thing to do. "'Course, I did."

"Katsuki, what the hell? That's dangerous!" You exclaim, worry i evident in your voice. Katsuki laughs by your reaction, "Hey, calm down. It didn't even bruise, it's okay."

"But-" Katsuki reaches for your hand. "Princess, it's okay. It didn't hurt, and atleast you're warm now."

You stare at the man before you, trying your best to not be too damned emotional. You fake a laugh, "Well that's some corny shit, Kats." Katsuki threw your hands in the air, glaring at you. "Really? Next time I'm letting you freeze to death." He says trying to fight back but without any bite in to it.

"Nah, you wouldn't. You would willingly blast yourself for me, and you just did." You tease as you wink at him.

He continur glaring at you even when his ears starts turning red, "Yeah? Well, you're a brat."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ more of katsuki, here! ♡

[hunternightwind]

Hunter rarely ever takes off his beanie, and when he does it's usually just for short periods to cool down or to lay down to sleep or bath. There's absolutley nothing wrong with the shape of his head or face, yet he feels a lot more confident while he's wearing the beenie and feels self concious without it. There's been times when he's lost his beenie and had been quiet and reclusive until he found it or replaced it.

[shaisuki]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward, chubby gal who somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

❝ TASTE THE SUGAR ON MY LIPS. ❞

𔓘 FEATURING. BOYFRIEND! GETO SUGURU

CONTENT WARNINGS. college au + hints of toxic boyfie geto + exhibitionism + established relationship + kissing + smut + insecurities + awkward reader + dubious consent .

SYNOPSIS. campus crush geto is utterly enamored with you. a socially awkward chubby girl that holds the title of being suguru's girlfriend and everyone wonder why? you ask the same question too and suguru is the only one who have the answer.

tall? yes.

dark? not really. he's leaning on warmer tones that one could say he spends his vacations on the beach.

handsome? a big fat yes.

there is too many adjectives to describe geto suguru. the fine arts student is currently holding your hand in a tight grip (you brush his hands off too many times when you two go out so he keeps a firm hold on your hands). a literature student who didn't have a social life and only a friend — can it still be considered a friend that you only talk to class?

and everyone asks why geto suguru would go for someone like you. a nobody that isn't even textbook attractive. they didn't even know that you exists until geto is parading you throughout campus like you were a trophy he won when it was the opposite from everyone's eye.

drop dead gorgeous that every man and women swoons over him. of course — who would not swoon for him? he's everything. well, except you. you particularly paid no interest in attractive guys cause they wouldn't be into you and even if they did, they won't fall for someone like you. stumbling over your words that people mistakes it for you mumbling instead of talking and thus, they find you boring with no prospect of a conversation.

the man besides you? he said you were interesting. no compliments on your beauty if you have any. you say to yourself. your size was the number one reason for it and if you get to know geto's ex-flings? a shuddering no. you don't look like close to them. not even a resemblance that geto suguru has a type.

he's mr. popular and you're ms. nobody. it sounds like cliché plot for a romance novel but this is your reality. a year had gone by and geto suguru is still all over you.

“do i need to explain myself?” he raises a brow at your question. more than once that's been asked and you got the same response from him all over again. he only hums and kisses your knuckles. the affection hasn't been done with the others and geto knows you're a bit of an old soul. hence, he made sure that he was sincere in taking you out and promises has made to himself that he would never hurt you.

if something that will happen that may end up in a break-up, geto had a term that it would be mutual for the both of you. there isn't going to be a harsh nor emotional way to broke up that would end up the two parties to be emotionally conflicted. it was better that way and fortunately, there hasn't been talks or signs that there is a turmoil in the relationship.

truth is, geto never gave you the reason to feel dissociated with him. assurances was the tip of his tongue when it was needed. his shoulder was there when you wanted to cry and his arms were there when you just feel like it and his lips that kisses you gently. it was beneficial for him cause before he knew it, he was so far gone enthralled on you.

the way you made him feel good like he was always in control and all the other quirks that is pleasant to him even the ups and downs. however some days when you're not in the picture, geto thought of you a lot and he says to himself he's not obsessed — fixated is much suitable in subtlety like any other person but he gets a little unstable when he don't see you and when he does the word seems to put it more in obvious.

“sugu—mmph!” merely seconds after he sees you, his lips was on yours. briefly knocking the air out of you before melting in the kiss. slowly moving your lips to return the action. “hey there, sugu.��� you murmured against his lips and trying to ignore the stares that was being shoot at to you. it's a compromising position being kabedonned by a guy that everyone have the hots for and wished to experience what it was like to date geto suguru.

you momentarily stare at him. geto suguru is a mystery. does madness lurks behind those purples of his eyes and was his smile real? you bet it wasn't. it was honed from what he lives up as the expectations of others. he's charming. they would say behind your back while girls flirts with him. their smaller hands brushing over the expanse of his arms and they will only get a smile and that is only the thing the thing they'll have from him.

everyone likes geto suguru or maybe he's adored by the many that's why hatred are born to the likes of you cause if you were like them you would hate yourself too. the long jet black hair of his that drapes around his back. the sharp like eyes of his similar to a fox and that smile. that damned smile. his very features were the epitome of beauty with a body like a god.

“you're really handsome.” is what you say without thinking. your gaze still fixated on his godly features and that earns a laugh from him. so rich that you think you were hallucinating and were seeing things. must be in love. you say to yourself and you braced for yourself the heartbreak that will come when you already had fallen for him..

all is forgotten when suguru wondered why he was with you in the first place when all he could think is about you when the merely attraction had turned into something he never can get out with. he was in too deep with you.

he holds your chin. trapping it with his forefinger and thumb. “hmm? i am?” he hums unsure like he hasn't heard it for the first time when it was a million times he had heard it. a small smirk gracing in his lips when he sees you gazing at him. “and you're beautiful.” he whispers and then he was dragging you to a vacant room.

sunlight flows through the windows. giving the room a lightning that wasn't hard for the eyes and only giving it a glow. your back hits the professor's table. geto grasps your hips to place you into and it made you gasp a little that he have this strength to carry you.

“should we be doing this here, suguru?” looking at the door that he locked and you can pick up the faint footsteps roaming behind the door. students passing by and your heart skips a beat that you two may be caught.

“don't let that get into your pretty head.” holding your jaw to face him and you see your worried expression in the reflection of his eyes. “okay.” you whisper, your heart beating in worry of being caught but it wasn't when suguru's lips on yours. moving in such passion that leaves you breathless. wanting for more as you tug the sleeves of his shirt.

his hands slithering between your legs and parting them slowly. drawing smooth circles in your inner thighs while he kisses you. settling between your parted legs. his fingers gently pulls your panties aside. gathering the slick that was forming and rubbing slow circles in your clit. “sugu-hmm....” you moan against the kiss. your hips slowly grinding to get more of his touch. “yes, baby....” humming as his tongue entered your mouth. swirling and claiming every inch of your mouth and draw the sweetest moans and whimpers he can while he rubs your clit.

melting from his ministrations, he let out a groan. his cock throbbing from the confines of his pants and in desperate need of relief. he easily unbuttons his pants. pulling his boxers down and his cock sprang free. the tip glistening with pre-cum. he wraps his hand around his cock. giving it a few quick pumps before sliding between your folds. coating it with your juices before slowly plunging deep inside to your wet heat.

geto stills for a moment. savoring the way your tight cunt deliciously engulfing his length. time is the essence at the situation but geto couldn't care not when you're so snug around him. he cups your soft jaw in his hand. tilting it to the side before kissing you again.

a low breathy moan escaping his lip as he began to move his hips. pulling his cock, he slams it back again to your tight heat. moving in pace that's good for the both of you.

“sugu....” you drawl out. your body moving in sync to his thrusts while you hold the edge of the desk behind you. “i know, baby.” he grunts. hooking your leg around his waist to get deeper and with your dazed state. you look up at him. there's a faint hue of blush in his cheek. his eyes narrowing while he looks at you. meeting his gaze and his lips parted slightly.

in his intoxicated state of being balls deep to your tight cunt, geto remains aware of the surroundings. he glances at where the door was. noticing a shadow behind the door and the door knob suddenly rattling and his desire heightened at the thought of being caught with you.

he returns his attention to you. a smirk curling in his lips. drinking at the sight of his girlfriend who's too dazed to care and focusing on the pleasure that runs deep inside you. “sugu.....” he hears you moan out his name and he knows you're close from the way your breath hitches and the quiver of your thick thighs.

geto changes the angle of his hips. making sure he's hitting your sweet spot repeatedly and with a cry of his name, you came around him. your whole body trembling as your orgasm washes over you and with that, geto focuses on his release. moving in a relentless phase. his hips stuttering, a low growl tore from his throat and with a sharp thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt deep inside your fluttering walls. thick ropes of his cum is released to your insides. he rolls his hips a few times and takes his cock with a wet pop.

both of you stayed still for a moment. catching each other's breath and as both of your temporary highs dissipated. geto grabs your chin and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before helping you to fix yourself and pulls you off to the desk. gathering you in his arms as you put your feet back in the ground. holding your hand firmly in his grasp, he pulls you with him and went to go outside and unlocking the door.

a dumbfounded student stands outside the doorway at the appearance of geto and you leaving the room. they stay there for awhile, processing at just what occurred inside.

after that, geto took you at one of the quaint coffee shops inside the campus. a cup of black coffee steaming in front of him and your favorite drink and a slice of cheesecake. “are you sure you don't want a bite, sugu?” pushing your plate towards him for both of you to share. he only smiles. wiping the cream in your lips that your tongue didn't caught earlier with his thumb and bringing it to his lips.

the action caught you off guard and warmth spread throughout your cheeks. your gaze lowering in embarrassment. geto casually sips his drink and waited for you until you finished and he grabs your bag. slinging it to his shoulder and intertwining your soft hands in his calloused ones.

“say suguru, do you really like me?” you stare at him. finding any kind of hesitation and hints of deceit on his eyes which isn't the right thing to do cause his eyes doesn't lie and he got what people call the angel eyes. the question's been bugging you for a long time cause it was unreal and beyond your wildest dream that geto suguru is dating you. a nobody who doesn't get the second glances until you dated him.

he raises a brow at your question. an amused chuckle slipping past his lips. “it won't last a year if i don't like you, princess.” leaning down to meet your level. “maybe you lost a bet.” his gaze darkened at the reproachful words. “a bet? certainly not. if i want to hurt you. i won't waste my time being with you.” the tone of his voice is cool but there's an underlying threat. it's a warning that you should choose your words carefully.

you simply nodded at his words. satisfied for the mean time and that's all it took for geto to change back to his calm demeanor. his thumb brushing your round cheeks. his large hands dwarfing your own face despite the roundness of it. “good girl.” his hand slowly descends to your neck. caressing your flabby arms and slowly pinching your belly and creeping underneath your shirt.

“not here, suguru.” a look of worry painted in your face as you look at the students scattered in the library. “they won't know, princess and there are things that are needed to be clarified.” the look in your face is priceless. he loves the way how easily bothered you can be at his ministrations but besides it, he really needs you and geto is starting to question that you're the one who's in too deep with your affection towards him, not him.

maybe, all along. he's the one who have fallen too deep for you and he's dancing on the palm of your hand.

[ramonathinks]

BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB

stuck in an elevator with the three elite billionaire sons of Bruce Wayne.

tags: (18+) fingering, squirting, pet names (doll face, baby, sweetheart), dry humping, dirty talk, ripping of clothes, confided spaces, brothers who share, oral (f!receiving), making out, hickies, nipple play, kinda exhibitionism (???), foursome, mention of breeding kinks, praise

notes: i imagine reader as black but i don’t think i used any physical description [repost!]

It was a tight fit. It had you rubbing your thighs together to calm the heat and aching throbbing between your legs. Crossing your ankles together you held your purse tighter and inhaled, trying to think of anything but your three bosses — but their presence was too powerful and overwhelming in this tight and suffocating elevator. Dirty and primal lust filled the air and you swallowed hard trying to ignore it.

They were all so tall, so lean and their muscular bodies took over all of the small space that you were confined in. Awkwardly rolling your hips, trying to ease your aches without being noticed, your body trembled a bit. Your stomach folded in as the mixed aroma of their colognes entered your nose — a musky smell of pine caused you to bite your lip.

The elevator was quiet besides the occasional rumbling but you couldn’t help but feel queasy, feeling as if they all were staring you down.

Quiet yet quick shuffling was heard before you noticed a tanned hand pressing yet another button. You tried to pay no mind to it until all at once the lights flickered and a loud bang started, you gasped aloud and backed back into a hard chest.

“S-sorry,” You stammered, pushing yourself off of whoever was behind you. You tried not to memorize the feeling that your hands felt of the muscular and broadness of his chest, your face felt hot and with the sudden change of temperature it was only worst.

“It’s fine, doll face.” Came the response of the one and only Jason Todd, his voice made you shiver with delight and the ache in your core returned again. Your blazer and tights making you feel stuffy and hot, as if you were wearing too many clothes. “You okay?”

You didn’t trust anymore of your voice but you nodded. Heat pooled between your legs listening to his deep and throaty voice and the nickname he bestowed upon you. Self fanning yourself a bit you looked off to the side, seeing Dick to your side, who winked at you.

“You’re looking pretty hot there,” Dick brought himself closer to your ear and blew a bit near your neck. He chuckled when you jumped back. “I don’t bite baby, you know, unless you like that kind of thing…” His piercing dark blue eyes scanned your face before eyeing your lips.

“No need to be scared.” Tim finally spoke up. You felt a shift in the air before he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in to his chest.

That’s when it clicked for you. Jason pushed the button to halt the elevator. As if reading your expression, their laughter shook the elevator. “Finally figured it out, yeah?” Jason’s eyes were equally piercing as Dick’s but it was the smirk and the white streak of hair that was making you fold.

“She’s been here, what..? About 3 months?” Dick quirked an eyebrow to him, who you felt nod against your shoulder. “Still haven’t noticed us… our stares… our conversations that we always try to rope you in… you just gave us nothing—”

“So we had to do something to get your attention.” Jason finished, bringing his calloused yet soft hands to caress your face, rubbing at your cheeks before removing your glasses from your face.

Grinding his hips against yours, Tim kissed the sides of your neck. Your breathing quickened with every tainting kiss before his mouth opened and then you felt pure wetness dripping down your neck. His thick long tongue licking up a pattern as he grinding himself more against you, you could feel how hard he was, how thick he was and just how big.

“I… I don’t understand…” You muttered, mainly to yourself. Trying to control yourself but your hips were already rutting against Tim’s, quiet moans leaving both of your lips.

“Shh…” Dick pressed a finger to your lips. “It’s nothing for you to understand. Just know… we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“And we plan to make you understand every inch of it, baby.” Tim panted in your ear, you could feel his hands trailing up from your waist leaving a hot trail until he landed on your breast. “Jason, mind giving me a hand?”

It was almost too quick how Jason undid the buttons to your shirt, leaving both the shirt and blazer on, he was tempted to snap a picture. Looking at the position you were in made him want you even more. “So fucking beautiful.” He blew his breath on your nipples, watching them both get hard and erect.

He was never too big on sharing. But with his brothers? It was something different.

You yelped, feeling more heat hit your now bare legs as Dick stretched and ripped the flimsy fabric thighs you were wearing. He turned to look at Jason, “You owe me.”

With hungry eyes, Jason looked between your legs and sucked his teeth. “Fuck.” He groaned. Black lacy panties.

Was it wrong for the brothers to bet what type of panties you wore? Probably. But damn did it pay off.

Bumping his nose against your clothed clit at the same time that Tim tweaked your nipples you tried to move away from them, it was too much. “W-Wait!”

Jason moved closer to you and touched your face again, “Shh. It’s okay.” He cooed before he leaned towards, keeping his eyes on yours.

Everything happened all at once. Your eyes rolled back once you felt his tongue slither inside of your mouth with no warning, his brothers feeling you up it was almost too much for you to focus on — the rhythm of Tim’s hips, Jason’s tongue swirling inside of your mouth and Dick playing with your drooling covered pussy.

Jason applied pressure to your tongue before licking the insides of your mouth, both sides of the cheeks before he sucked on your tongue. Even with your eyes closed, you knew he was still staring at you. Each moan they pulled out of you, another one added pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Feeling Dick pulling your panties to the side and hearing him moan. Your slick wetness sticking to the black Lacy panties you were wearing. “Such a pretty mess down here.” He licked his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, fuck, you like when I say talk to you down here baby?” As if the dripping all over wasn’t enough of an answer, he smiled before dipping his head down.

You held your breath, expecting him to get straight to the point. But instead, he kissed your thighs. Trailing deep kisses up and down, getting closer and closer to your clit every time. Your breathing uneven, Jason moved from your mouth to your breast, his teeth tugging on your dark nipples, still meeting your eyes.

Dick’s muffled moan drew your eyes to him. You watched as his wet tongue tugged at your folds before slurping up the juices that spilled out of you. Your legs were trembling and if it wasn’t for Tim, you would’ve fell over.

“You like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” Tim whispered. “Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m cumming inside of that pussy, you hear me? Matter of fact. When we’re all cumming inside of you, gonna birth a heir to this company, aren’t you?” He sucked on your ear lobe and your pussy tightened up when Dick tried to put his tongue inside of you.

“Don’t scare her off, Tim. He’s just playing around baby.” Jason told you, kissing the valley between your aching breast.

Parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, Dick drove his tongue inside. “Oooh, I…” You we’re babbling. Wetness dripping on his face and even on his expensive shirt as he licked and slurped, nibbling on your puffy clit.

Tim didn’t like how left out he was, the brothers could see it on his face. With another long suck on your clit enough to make you even weaker on your knees, Dick rose up.

“W-wait I didn’t get to—” He covered your mouth with his, holding the sides of your face and massaging the breast that Jason was neglecting.

A sudden intrusion inside of your pussy made you moan aloud. You were so focused that you didn’t feel Tim parting you open for his fingers. “So fucking tight, right here. Such a small pussy. Can’t wait to break her in.” He purred, moving two of his fingers faster inside of you. His hips digging into yours, Jason now sucking on your throat. The gentle fiction from Tim’s slacks driving you even more crazy since his fingers are working too. Using his thumb, he pressed on your clit and dragged his thumb up and down adding pressure each time.

You were struggling to keep your balance. Your voice was hoarse as they had their way with you. Your entire body shaking while you whimpered against them, tightening up on Tim’s fingers and he groaned, stretching them inside of you.

With clenched teeth Tim told you, “Breathe. Fuck, sweetheart. It’s just me, just open up a bit more.” It was feeling good being stretched so good while two other boys felt you up with their hands and their mouths.

You were getting so dizzy. Your orgasm attempting to push through. You didn’t know how you didn’t come yet.

Licking up the pulse on both sides of your neck, Dick and Jason shared a look. You didn’t know what it meant until they both dropped to their knees and eyed your swollen clit.

“Oh you weren’t lying. I knew she’d be pretty. But this is truly a pussy, so smooth and bare.” Jason smirked, pulling your lips open, watching his brother’s fingers dipping inside. Then he moved forward and kissed your aching clit.

Your knees buckled and you threw your head back while Tim continued to hold you up and fuck you with his fingers. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Jason did a deep groan, putting your clit in his mouth and mouthing his head back before letting your clit bounce back before doing it again.

His tongue was putting in work, licking up and down your clit. Feeling another set of wetness you thrusted your hips forward, begging for more, not realized Dick had joined in on the assault of your pussy.

The strokes of their tongues plus Tim’s fingers moving and stretching you so deep, you rode out every feeling you possessed and when Tim pushed in deeper inside of your gummy walls that held him so tight, he pressed and circled your insides until he felt you clench harder than before.

It was the hardest you ever came, your limbs snapping, body shaking hard, babbling words and your pussy squirting out a clear liquid of slick on both of the boys below up, who happily drank it up. You felt drunk as you slid down to the ground.

With wild looks in their eyes, the brothers straightened themselves out, looking over your appearance. Dick pulled your blazer over you and Jason continued to rip the rest of your tights. Tim, got the elevator back on track.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still haven’t faded, your body still twitching and shaking. You could hear them talking to each other, “She’s completely fucked out. She won’t be able to go back to work like this.” Dick said.

“Can’t take her home or Bruce will have our heads for fucking with his best assistant.” Tim replied while Jason just laughed.

“Well,” Jason picked you up as if you weighted nothing. “I can always take her back to my comfy loft.”

Tim and Dick looked at him as if he was crazy. “So you could get started without us? Ha, very funny.” Tim snorted.

“Let’s just find her address on the company—” The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors opening to the person none of you wanted to see.

With wide eyes Bruce Wayne frowned at the sight. Putting a hand over his forehead he did a deep sigh, “Do I even want to know?”

The boys all shook their heads and Tim quickly pressed the button to the company garage. “Let’s just get something to eat first.”

“Works for me.” You yawned, looking dreamily at the three boys.

[katsukistofu]

hug me, not it!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. todoroki x gn reader ⭑ your boyfriend has hidden beef with your plushies.

shoto beadily eyes the intruding beasts behind you with distaste subtly written over his pretty features.

the “intruding beasts” being your plushies neatly lined up against the wall of your dorm.

did he buy most of them for you with his father’s credit card whenever the two of you went on dates? yes.

does that mean he was any happier to see them in his presence? no.

they already get the privilege to sleep with you every night. how dare they gatecrash on the both of your precious private time like this? uninvited too?

it’s silly, he knows, but he always gets the tiniest bit jealous when he comes to your room for study sessions or sleepovers, even movie nights.

only to see you cuddling with that damn rilakkuma bear plush he gave you last year to celebrate your anniversary in your lap. for the millionth time. in his spot.

shoto can’t help but feel a little replaced.

he throws one last glance over your shoulder at the offending sacks of fluff, before his soft strawberries and créme hair brushes your chin as he nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck.

“sho!” you giggle. “that tickles.”

you feel a faint smile against your collarbone. just the slightest bit mischievous enough for you to be able to tell, as he lets out that quiet, melodic laugh of his. “sorry.”

he’s not really, though. shoto peeks back over at your plushies, the barest hint of smugness visible on his lips.

mine. shoto thinks while looking at them, arms circling your waist.

unaware of the one-sided competition for your affections behind you, you’re deadset on a mission for revenge.

gently, you brush the tips of your fingers along his neck.

shoto’s ridiculously handsome as he leans into your touch with a curious tilt of his head.

“what are you doing?”

his bangs fall into his eyes as he questions you, and you feel your heart skip a beat, wondering how he’s even real.

“trying to tickle you back!” you desperately attempt to do so again under his arms and on his thigh.

other than a blink from him, still no reaction.

“love.”

you don’t seem to hear him.

“shoto, lie on your tummy.”

he complies easily, always one to humor your bouts of inquisitiveness. whenever you were focused on something, you tended to tune everything else out.

shoto stretches out on your bed with his tall frame not unlike a cat. but his head is still turned back to you, staring at you to try and to get your attention.

“love.” you’re trying to tickle the back of his knee now, to no avail.

finally, you raise your head to look at him. “yeah?”

“i’m not ticklish.” shoto deadpans.

“what, really?” you whine, stopping your attack on his leg. “not even as a baby?”

“no.” amusement dances in his gemstone eyes as he studies you. “touya always got mad when he tried to, because it never worked.”

you stifle a giggle behind your hand. “what did you do to make him tickle you in the first place?”

“exist,” your boyfriend says so simply that you have to let out a laugh.

you reach out to cup the side of his cheek, and there’s a soft intake of breath from him as his lashes flutter shut.

shoto wonders how your gentle touch always makes him feel warm all over, when he’s certain he’s not even using his quirk.

it’s strange. in good way.

“why do you like cuddling those plushies so much?” he murmurs, eyes still closed.

a flustered expression that he can’t see spreads across your face.

“um, i guess it’s ’cause they smell like you and at night it helps me sleep?”

“oh.” his eyes blink open in surprise at that, warmth starting to grow on his cheeks.

shoto takes in the sheepish grin you’re wearing, and reaches out to cup your burning cheek similarly like how you did with his moments before.

you shiver into his sweet and soft touch, and the side of his lips quirk up.

“you can cuddle them. but when i’m here, the only one that should be in your arms is me.”

[missarchive]

captured in quiet glances

spencer reid

cw; making out in the bullpen, slightly cocky spencer, flirting, nervous!reader, GLASSES GLASSES GLASSES (cause they need a warning of their own), cockblocking in the workplace

an; based on an ask i received a little while ago but accidentally deleted, my sincere apologies, sweet anon, i hope you enjoy!

wc; around 3k

Spencer Reid.

The very same name had rolled off your tongue in whispered prayer late in the night more times than you could count. When you could finally enjoy solitude, away from prying eyes, away from the people who knew what you were thinking before you even did. Your attraction to Spencer was no secret—how could it be?

Not when your gaze lingered on him far too long, tracing the sharp curve of his jaw, the delicate arch of his brow, or the way his hands moved when he spoke, gesturing with an awkward yet endearing intensity.

Not when your heart skipped a beat every time he laughed at something you said, even if it was something ridiculous. And certainly not when your stomach fluttered with reckless abandon whenever his eyes locked onto yours, as if you were part of the mystery he was trying to solve.

But today was different.

You hadn’t expected to find him in the bullpen this morning looking like that.

The moment you stepped through the doors, your feet faltered, your bag sliding precariously down your shoulder as your brain scrambled to catch up with the vision before you. Spencer Reid. In glasses.

Not the kind of glasses someone wears begrudgingly, as a last resort after losing a contact. No, these were intentional. Framed to perfection, resting effortlessly on the bridge of his nose, accentuating the sharpness of his features in a way that sent your thoughts spiralling.

The lenses framed his cautious brown doe-eyes, once soft and inquisitive, now sharp and calculated, as though seeing the world through a new, refined lens. They gave him an air of confidence, something you might mistake for cockiness in anyone else. But with Spencer, it was different.

You knew his ego when it came to his intelligence—how could he not have one? Years of being underestimated, of facing disbelief instead of encouragement, had built him into a man who wielded his knowledge like armour.

He wasn’t the same awkward boy genius anymore. Today, standing there in his crisp shirt and fitted vest, pushing those damned glasses up the bridge of his nose with a casual flick of his fingers—he was something else entirely.

He was devastating.

"Y/N?"

His voice shattered the daze you had fallen into, and you blinked rapidly, realizing you had been staring. Heat flooded your cheeks as your grip tightened on your bag, your mind scrambling for an escape.

"Morning, Spencer," you managed, forcing a smile that you hoped masked the chaos inside you.

His lips quirked into a polite smile, his eyes scanning your face in that way that made your skin prickle. He adjusted his glasses again, and you had to fight the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to reach out and do it for him.

Focus, Y/N.

You dropped your bag onto your desk with a little too much enthusiasm, papers shuffling under your fumbling hands. Anything to keep yourself busy. Anything to stop thinking about how ridiculously attractive he looked today. Because if you let yourself dwell on it too long, you'd be doomed.

"Everything okay?"

His voice was closer now, and when you glanced up, he was standing right beside your desk, those sharp, knowing eyes analyzing you with quiet intensity. You swallowed hard, forcing a casual shrug.

"Yeah," you croaked, clearing your throat. "Just didn’t get much sleep last night."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "If you need caffeine, I just brewed a fresh pot in the break room."

You nodded, your voice coming out higher than intended. "Thanks, Reid."

As he walked away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Spencer Reid in glasses was going to be the death of you.

The morning passed in a blur of stolen glances and clumsy keystrokes, each one more humiliating than the last. You were convinced you'd managed to play it cool—until you heard your name.

"Y/N."

Your head snapped up, eyes widening as Spencer stood beside your desk again, arms crossed over his chest. He had that look—the one that said he had already unraveled the entire situation in his head and was just waiting for you to confirm it.

"You’ve been acting... different today," he observed, tilting his head slightly.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Different? How?"

You aimed for nonchalance, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Spencer's lips twitched in amusement. "For one, your typing speed has decreased by approximately thirty percent. You’ve corrected yourself five times in the last hour, and you haven’t made eye contact with me for more than two seconds at a time. Normally, you maintain it for an average of 6.4 seconds."

Damn it. Why did he have to be so perceptive?

You shifted in your seat, waving a dismissive hand. "Maybe I’m just tired."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Or maybe..." He leaned in, his voice dropping slightly, "it has something to do with the fact that you've been staring at my glasses all day."

Your stomach plummeted, and heat rushed to your face. He knew. Of course he knew.

"I—" you began, scrambling for an excuse, but his soft chuckle cut you off.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “I noticed the way your pupils dilated when you first saw me this morning. It’s a physiological response to attraction.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, Spencer.”

His chuckle deepened, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was smiling—genuine and warm, with a hint of something else beneath it. Something smug.

“So,” he prompted, watching you carefully, “you think I look good in glasses?”

You let out a nervous laugh, finally dropping your hands. “Okay, fine. Yes, Reid. You look… good in glasses. Happy now?”

His eyes sparkled behind the lenses, and he nodded thoughtfully, fiddling with the leather strap on his messenger bag.

You felt the blush creep back up your neck as you realised where the conversation was headed. “Spencer Reid,” you said, trying to sound chastising. “Are you propositioning me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” you said bluntly, trying not to let your tone betray the excitement that was building inside you.

Spencer was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Is that… okay?” he murmured, leaning in even closer, until his face was only inches from yours.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your ears. You shook your head, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. “Yes, yeah- more than okay...”

Spencer’s lips parted, a soft huff of air escaping him. His fingers curled over the edge of your desk, gripping it like he needed the support to stay standing. He looked at you with those sharp, calculating eyes, but something had changed. His gaze had softened. It wasn’t as intense as it had been before.

 It felt more like he was watching you—really watching you. Like he was taking in every little detail. The way your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck, the soft pink hue of your lips, the shape of your eyes.

He leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you swallowed hard. “How long?”

Spencer’s thumb rubbed against the edge of your desk in a soothing motion, his eyes still locked on yours. “As soon as you joined the team,” he said, and even though his voice was steady, his words were laced with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. “You walked in, and everything changed for me.”

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your ribcage. Spencer Reid had been attracted to you since day one? You felt his fingers brush against your hand, tentative as they intertwined with yours. Your palm tingled at the touch, and you looked down, watching as he threaded his fingers through yours.

Spencer’s eyes followed your gaze, lingering on the sight of your joined hands before flicking back up to your face. His fingers tightened around yours, his mouth opening to speak. “Do you still want this?” he asked, and it was different from the earlier question.

This time, there was no teasing in his voice, no confidence. He looked nervous. Anxious. Vulnerable. He looked like a man who had spent years wondering if he had a chance. A man who couldn’t believe he might finally get it.

And that—that was all it took. That was all you needed to see in him. You reached up, running your palm over his cheek and threading your fingers through his hair. You looked him straight in the eye. “I do,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed at the words. His body seemed to sag against yours, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the response.

When his eyes opened again, they weren’t shy anymore. They were sharp, burning with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours, feather light. Your breath hitched, and his tongue slid out, tracing over your bottom lip. He tugged at your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth to nibble. You gasped, his mouth swallowing the sound. Your hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss.

He tasted like mint and chocolate, like your favourite kind of candy. His lips were softer than you imagined, his tongue hot and slick as it tangled with yours. You let out a moan, and Spencer’s grip on your waist tightened.

He pulled you closer, his hips shifting against yours, and that was all it took for your entire body to tense up. The feeling of his erection against you was enough to send your pulse into overdrive.

You wanted him. Needed him. So, so badly.

When he pulled away, your lips were swollen, and you felt like you might come right then and there. Your entire body was burning with need, tingling with arousal. “Spencer,” you gasped, clutching at his shirt. You tugged him closer, your mouth seeking his again. His hands tightened on your waist, and he groaned into your mouth, kissing you harder.

This wasn’t a gentle kiss. This wasn’t the sweet, tender moment you’d been imagining. This was desperate and needy, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

And you felt the same.

But a sound tore through the bullpen, snapping both of you back to reality.

The break room door had swung open. You heard the clatter of mugs on the counter as someone went for coffee. Spencer’s head snapped back, and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, like he was struggling to catch his breath.  He ran a hand over his mouth, looking more than a little dazed.

You couldn’t blame him. You felt like you’d just been hit by a freight train.

“We’re still at work,” he whispered, his voice thick. He glanced at the break room, then back to you. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, running your fingers through your hair. “It’s okay,” you said, forcing a laugh. “I think it’s been a while since anyone’s gotten action at the office.”

Spencer’s brows arched, and a laugh escaped him. It sounded more like a cough at first, but then grew louder, until he was grinning. You smiled back at him, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.

As Spencer’s laugh faded, a comfortable silence lingered between you, but the tension was still palpable, buzzing in the air like static electricity. His hand lingered on the edge of your desk, fingers drumming softly as if he were debating what to say next.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen like this,” he admitted, his voice softer now, carrying a note of vulnerability that made your heart ache. “But... I’m not sorry it did.”

Your lips parted in surprise, your chest tightening at his words. You swallowed hard, gathering enough courage to answer. “Me neither.”

Spencer’s gaze softened further, the intensity in his eyes replaced by something warmer, more earnest. He hesitated, glancing toward the bullpen as if checking to see if anyone else might appear. When he was satisfied you were still alone, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“What do we do now?”

The question hung in the air between you, weighty and full of possibilities. You felt your pulse quicken, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a wave.

You smiled nervously, shifting in your seat. “Well, for starters, we don’t get caught making out in the middle of the office.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his lips curving into that shy, boyish smile you’d always found so endearing. “Good point.” He straightened up slightly, adjusting his glasses—a gesture that was quickly becoming your undoing. “But after that…?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you’d planned for when you woke up this morning. But as you looked up at him, at the way he stood there watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter, you realized you didn’t want to let this moment slip away.

“Dinner,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Tonight. My place.”

Spencer’s brows lifted, and for a brief moment, you worried you’d been too forward. But then his expression softened again, and he nodded. “I’d like that,” he said simply.

Relief flooded through you, and you found yourself smiling despite the lingering nerves. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped both of you back to reality. Spencer stepped back quickly, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. You grabbed a random file off your desk, pretending to review it with far more interest than necessary.

“Reid! Y/N!” Emily’s voice rang out as she approached, a cup of coffee in hand. “Hotch wants us in the conference room. New case.”

You both nodded, mumbling acknowledgments as Emily disappeared down the hall. When you glanced at Spencer, you found him already looking at you, a small, private smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Tonight,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear before turning and heading toward the conference room.

You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest. Tonight. The word echoed in your mind, full of promise and anticipation.

[peachsukii]

— midnight first aid (12:21am) it’s not common for support techs to be out in the field, let alone caught mid-battle with a villain, but there’s a first time for everything.

✮ content. comfort & fluff, pro hero au, reader is a support tech, mentions of blood, wound care, talks of marriage, don’t mind the katsurei selfship influence

Everything hurts. Your head, body, and now…your heart.

“Why didn’t you call me?!” Bakugo cries out from your shared bathroom, rustling through the closet for your first aid kit. He’s grumbling something to himself that you can’t quite make out, but you know he’s upset - understandably so. You should have taken time to call him from the agency when your phone died, but too much was happening and time got away from you.

He returns a few moments later, gripping your wrist and tugging you over to the couch. You settle into your normal spot as he rips open the metal tin, grabbing some cotton pads to soak them with alcohol. Bakugo carefully dabs away the dried blood from your cheeks and chin, causing you to wince at the stinging pain.

“What the fuck even happened, baby? Your shift ended at 9 and it’s past midnight.” His voice has descended from anger to pure concern. He knew you must have a reason why you didn’t call him, why you didn’t bother to let him know you were safe.

“I…got caught up in a villain attack. There was an emergency request for the nearby sector that needed replacement gear, and when I got there, it was chaos,” you explain, exhaustion littered all throughout your speech. “LeMillion’s suit ripped too much and he needed a patch up to continue using his quirk without reprocussion. While helping him off to the side, the villain attacked us. The others did their best to distract him.”

“Christ,” Bakugo grumbles under his breath, biting the inside of his cheek. He pushes your hair out of your face to uncover the lone cut above your eyebrow, three fresh stitches holding it together. The glint of worry in his eyes softens once he sees them, knowing you had been evaluated by a medical team gave him some peace of mind.

“Get up,” he instructs, waiting for you to move out of your spot. And you do, long enough for him to take your place and pull you back into his lap. He does another once over of the damage on your face and collarbone, clicking his tongue against his teeth in disapproval.

“Med team let you walk out all bloody an’ shit?”

You settle into his lap and place your hands on his shoulders. “Guess they thought I’d just wash it off at home.”

“Fuckin’ shitty if ya ask me. They didn’t even clean around your stitches,” Bakugo comments, examining them further before dabbing alcohol around the edges of the gash. When you squeeze your eyes shut at the pain, the wound releases a droplet of blood. He groans in annoyance, reaching for a proper wound cover to prevent anymore damage to your pretty face.

“M’gonna rip that team a new one tomorrow, fuckin’ shitty ass job patchin’ you up. This could get infected if not covered to let the stitches do their damn job.”

You knew this was gonna happen from the second you unlocked the door and Bakugo was in your face about where you were, anxiously waiting for you. Frowning, you shake your head. “Kats, baby, it’s not—”

“It’s a big fuckin’ deal to me when you’re comin’ home in the dead of night and covered in blood!” He cradles your cheeks in his hands, fingers trembling against your skin. The dim moonlight illuminating the living room highlights the glassiness of his crimson stare, making your heart sink deeper into your chest.

“I don't wanna worry about getting a call about you bein' in the hospital,” he whispers, voice cracking as he’s casting his eyes downward to avoid your gaze. “I...don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"Hey," you soothe, nuzzling your nose with his and placing your hand on the back of his neck to keep him close. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Bakugo takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm himself down from the anxious thoughts clouding his mind. You’re right - you’re safe and sound, that’s what matters.

“Damn right, you’re stuck with me,” he leans forward to place a soft kiss to your lips, holding the back of your head tenderly. When you part, he stays close before mumbling, “Forever.”

“I dunno, my finger’s looking a little naked for being stuck with you forever,” you joke, giggling maniacally when Bakugo’s face and neck instantly flush pink. “I’m kidding, babe. You know I love—”

He cuts you off with a second kiss, deeper and rougher than the last. He moves his hand from the back of your head to your back for support. In between kisses, you think you hear him say, “Fine, marry me then.”

Now your face is beat red, body growing hot from his words that you’re…not even sure he actually said. You let out a quiet ‘huh?’ in response, speechless as you sit back in his lap. He cackles, shit-eating grin plastered across his face when he teasingly says, “Think you’re hearin’ shit, sweets. Let’s get ya in the shower and to bed.”

You get up from the couch and follow him to the bathroom, his shirt already off by the time you shut the door. You can’t help but wonder if you were hearing things…maybe it’s just your exhaustion.

Or maybe, just maybe…it was real, and you just have to be patient. For now, you’re more than content with what you two have.

@slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @queenpiranhadon

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[easy-there-leftovers]

Magnum Opus (Ch. 1)

When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding her potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how her paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes.

(Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 2k words

Also on Ao3!!

Series Masterlist

While Aaron Hotchner remained vigilant as he drove the black SUV, the constant flipping of Spencer’s case files seemed to be louder than the car’s air conditioning. 

He had directed Morgan and JJ to touch base at the MPDC, and had Rossi and Prentiss survey the crime scene of Jonathan Edwards; the identity of the previously unknown man in the vacant apartment.

This left him with Reid in the passenger seat to conduct an investigation on their only lead so far. 

From the update Garicia had given them, Y/n L/n was a prodigy a year younger than their very own. Having graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology a year ago, she moved to Capitol Park Plaza and Twins Apartments in Washington D.C., and is currently unemployed. Occasionally selling her paintings out of her unit under an anagram of her name.

 But something bothered him.

And it seems like Reid has picked up on it too.

“Do you think Dr. L/n is the unsub?” The unit chief asks.

Spencer hums before answering.

“While we can’t rule it out just yet, the possibility of her being the unsub is totally unlikely. The thing that’s throwing me off is that everything is too convenient. I mean, why would the unsub use something so publicly personal to them as part of their signature? It’s as if she’s overtly incriminating herself.”

Spencer checks back onto the pictures of the victims, then lifts his head up to look at Hotch to continue.

“Based on the way the victims are modeled, an immense amount of care was put into them. All for the purpose of making them look like the subjects in their paintings. Actually, the fixation on changing the bodies’ posture and keeping them clean is typically done out of remorse. But the added elements, like the placement of the paintings, creates an image of an unsub more on the narcissistic side. By creating two 'artworks,' they're prompting the viewer to decide which version of it they prefer. Mocking the original artist in the process.”

“So the paintings were done before the murder?”

“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

His unit chief sighs and pulls over to the curb. “Well, we’re about to test that belief.” Spencer hurries to take off his seatbelt as Hotch closes the car door with a thud. 

—------

Hotchner nods at Reid as they find themselves in front of the written address Garcia gave them. He lifts his hand to knock firmly on your door, and waits for a response.

A thud from the other side causes both of them to assess each other before Hotch tells Spencer to stay behind him. Gun in hand until something, or someone, comes running at them.

But instead a muffled, “sorry” is heard right after, which causes him to lower his gun.

The door finally opens a crack to reveal a very tired twenty-something woman, some dark pigment or makeup smudged on their lower eye lines as they rubbed at it. She immediately fixed her posture however at the sight of the unexpected visitors. Eyes wide with concern.

“Dr. L/n, I’m Aaron Hotchner with Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI.” He highlights his statement by showing his badge. “We’d like to ask you some questions.” 

“Oh, um,” The woman blinks rapidly and shakes their head before immediately saying, “Of course,” with a nod and opening the door wide to let them in.

A quirk that does not go unnoticed by Spencer, who observes how different she looks to her more formal ID photos.

—-----

You let the FBI agents into your apartment, but are now suddenly aware of the state of disarray you left it in last night. Not to mention the state you were in. 

You had just woken up and your brain wasn’t quite all there yet. If you had known you’d have guests over, you would have at least put some of your books and papers back onto their shelves rather than on your floor.

“My, uh—” You start, “Apologies! For the room and the um,”

You inhale deeply and gesture to yourself as you try to find the words before settling on an exasperated, “me.”

“No worries, miss. We don’t really call in advance.” You nod at the older man’s explanation vacantly before coming up with a response.

“Would you like anything to drink ?” You move to your fridge to get water to wake you up, and decide that it would be rude not to offer. The two decline, with the younger more busy observing your living room bookcase than the older one that sat on your couch. 

You notice that something must have interested him as he lingers on certain shelves. That section in particular had prints of dissertations you had been meaning to read, or have already read, in clear folders.

You wonder if he found his work there or something before returning with water for yourself. 

“So what can I help you with?”

“Dr. L/n, are you aware of the current string of murders that have been happening as of this year?” 

You blink rapidly again. The question catches you off guard, but you shake your head. 

“I know it’s a bad habit, and that I should, but I don’t really listen to the news.” Feeling your eyebrows quirk, you rub your hands together slowly. Making direct eye contact with Hotch, before looking at the younger man as he takes out a few papers from the folder he was holding.

“Are you familiar with these paintings then?”

 Now that piques your interest.

Dr. Spencer Reid, who sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes when it meets his own, presents various pictures of your artworks in what seems to be dimly lit areas. They’re a little dirty, but otherwise you would recognize them as your own.

 The thought instantly made something in your stomach turn.

“I–” You start, but shake your head subtly again. Unsure of what to say and how to say it next as you stare at the images. “am.” You turn your head to look back up at Spencer who nods thoughtfully.

“Recently, your paintings have been showing up at crime scenes in the D.C. area. Specifically, victims of an organized unsub that seems to be targeting people who accurately resemble the subjects in your work.” If your eyes weren’t wide enough, that bit of information had certainly opened them wider than ever before as you stared up at him.

“That, combined with the concentrated traces of penta-durastalene found in the pigments of the paint used, have led us to suspect your involvement in these murders, Dr. L/n.” You heavily feel the blink of your eyelids and rest your fingers on them to keep them closed before looking back at the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” you smile incredulously. “So you’re telling me that not only has Lunacite been identified on the paintings you’ve found, but that people who look like the personas in my private works actually exist and have since been–” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Murdered?”

“Well that shouldn’t come as a surprise, they were your muses, weren’t they? You were commissioned?” Hotch is the one who asks and you shake your head with wide eyes.

“I didn’t even know these people existed. They were just– faces I came up with mentally with the visual library I’ve amassed over the years. I don’t really make it a habit to paint from reference. Like I said, they were private.”

“And the chemical?” You thought for a moment before your lips thinned into a line.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Agent Hotchner, but I haven’t touched anything regarding that compound in over a year. I’ve only ever worked on it in my lab on university grounds, and I don’t make a habit of bringing work home.” You scratch the hairs near the base of your hairline.

“More importantly, hundreds of students and lecturers have access to my work, my research, and my lab space. Not to mention the people who might have heard my work through academic conferences.”

You move away from your position near the living room coffee table Spencer placed the pictures on, but picked up one before you did and shook your head.

“Besides, these paintings? No one should know about them, let alone have them. I didn't sell these.” That made Spencer’s brows furrow as he looked at the other photos still on the table.

“Do you have proof?” You stay silent, but then motion for them to follow you to the door of your room.

“Well, for one, I’m sure you’d understand that most people don’t make copies of their artwork traditionally, right? Expenditure of time, work materials, effort, human error, and many other variables. It just isn’t practical nor convenient.” You ramble and look back at them to continue.

“I also don’t make the majority of my art known online. Only a good 30% makes its way to my portfolio, and the others are never to be seen by anyone else.”

“They're studies. They’re made with cheap paints, they’re subjectively not appropriate for commercial use and-–I just wouldn’t be comfortable charging anyone for them.” 

They follow you across the room, and make themselves apparent behind you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“So if my ‘commissioned paintings’ are currently on D.C. crime scenes, and possibly in MPDC evidence,” You open the door to reveal your studio to the two agents. 

Various paint tubes, books, and brushes littered the floor, table, and boxes. A lone easel was situated near your apartment window, with an unfinished painting on it. And various canvasses, not displayed, but instead kept on tall shelves. Only the differently colored edges indicated that they were ever used.

What surprised them both however, were the same paintings in the pictures staring back at them.

 Some on the walls, some on the floor, but what was most important was that they were in this room, they were clean, and there were more of them.

You turn to look back at them with shaky eyes. “So why are they still here?”

—----

Hotch and Reid stood outside of your apartment door as you cleaned yourself up. Hotch made the call to bring you to the precinct for further investigation and for your own safety, but allowed you to freshen up before leaving with them. Not that he told you about the safety part.

You were hard to read, given your erratic reactions. It unnerved him, but he supposes it comes with the territory of being gifted. You also offered to bring in your paintings and a few other materials for forensics to test, to which while he was suspicious of, was not ungrateful for.

He made a quick call to Garcia to check attendants of any academic conferences you’ve spoken at and if anyone had been more interested than the others. When he was finished, he looked to Reid who was crossing his arms and staring at the carpeted hallway before looking back at him.

“She’s uncomfortable.” He stated plainly.

“Reid, most people would be if they just found out their hobby had been getting people killed.” Hotch said as he kept looking at his phone for anything new from the others.

“There’s certainly that, but I meant her title. ‘Doctor.’” He said in quotes, and Hotch raises his eyebrow at that but allows him to continue anyway with a curt nod.

“I mean, every time we’ve addressed her with her title, she blinks faster. Did you know it’s a common attribute that’s directly related to an increase in heart rate, which is why they’re usually correlated with lying? Initially, you would think that she faked her experience to get those credentials, but given her educational background, she must have not been given an opportunity to be referred to as such for a long time. Also, the gap year she took could’ve only exacerbated any insecurities she might have about her intellectual achievements. Plus, the lack of organization in her own home, while not wildly uncommon amongst people her age, could suggest the sincerity of her belief about compartmentalizing her work and her private life.”

“And what does that tell you?”

As Spencer was supposed to answer, a thud much like the one they heard before they entered earlier was heard again, followed by a similarly muffled, ‘sorry.’

He turns to look back at Hotch again with a small, victorious smile.

“That she doesn’t fit the profile.”

——-

taglist: @littlewolfieposts

[nikki0606]

since we were kids | Bakugou X Reader

oneshot; (goes from angst -> fluff)

And there goes yet another day of Bakugou bullying Midoriya, your childhood friend. Of course Bakugou is your childhood friend too, but you sort of snapped it off with him when he started being the devil to Midoriya.

"You don't need to step in, (Name)-chan." Midoriya tells you, "I'll handle it. Kacchan's not that harsh... "

"What, do you need him to kill you for you to understant?" it hurts you to see Bakugou behave this way- the boy who once gloated to you about having a great quirk and being the strongest was now using it to hurt others.

"I need to buy a new notebook." Midoriya stops walking, "It won't take me long. Why don't you go ahead, I'll catch up later. I'll get a warm up run that way too."

You agree and Midoriya hurries off towards the closest stationary.

"Tch, how do I get into U.A. if I get caught doing this shit." an all too familiar voice sounds approaching towards the exit of an alleyway to the side.

Immediately, a frown settles on your face. 

It's been long since you've had a personal talk with Bakugou- you stopped communicating with him ever since he started being a bitch because it broke your heart to see him that way.

Remembering the old days only makes it worse because all that you've felt for him ever since the beginning doesn't seem to fade off- you're hurt by Bakugou's behaviour, yes, but you can't hate him.

But just for Izukkun's sake-

You've made your mind to confront him today.

After all, him telling Midoriya to jump off the roof was crossing the line.

Without another second of allowing worry or doubt to fill your brain, you hurry into the alleyway to come face to face with the ash-blond boy and his two lackeys following behind.

"Bakugou-san." you've been addressing him formally and crudely since a little while now.

"Whoa whoa," the lackeys behind Bakugou who were once your friends too now narrow their eyes in disgust, "looks like someone left her little frail bunny for a while."

"Tsubasa-san." your lips press, "What a pleasant way to initiate conversation after years. How mannered you were back when you were a kid, I wonder where that little boy went." your eyes roll over to Bakugou last second.

After all, your words are just as genuinely meant for him too.

"Let's talk, Bakugou-san."

He tilts his head, eyes dangerously focused into yours. Bakugou walks all the way up to you and towers you to intimidate you and although there's a part of you which somewhat fears what he's become, you know he wouldn't actually hurt you.

All these years of you stepping in when he bullies Midoriya and he's never once caused a scratch on you, though the same can't be said for Midoriya.

"What do you want, dumbass?" the sheer annoyance in his voice is enough of an indication for the other two boys to walk further away from the both of you and give Bakugou his space.

"I... need to talk to you." you avert your eyes to the side momentarily but then force yourself to look back in his eyes, "It's about Izukkun- " his eyes twitch, you jolt and immediately continue, "please, Bakugou-san."

"Fuck off." he almost turns on his heels to leave.

"Katsukkun... " you know he'll stop if you use the nickname you gave him years ago. For some wicked reason, it makes your eyes glassier- it's been years since you've let this out of your mouth.

Bakugou halts just as you think he would.

"Katsukkun, please. Stop the bullying, it's not his fault he's quirkless." there's a sad expression resting on your face now that you've retorted to using a sweet memory from the past to stop him, "He's human too, he can have dreams."

"You literally can't fucking forget your oh-so poor little bunny, huh?" Bakugou looks more annoyed than he's ever been at you, "Go bang your head against a wall or something, bitch."

Without another glance, he turns and walks off. And without a second delay, you turn to run home, eyes dripping down tears for someone you'd committed to never cry over again.

It hurts- that little boy who would smile like the Sun isn't there anymore and it hurts.

.

________________________________________________________

.

You walk into class all alone the next day- Midoriya has texted you asking you to go ahead because he will be late. Taking the opportunity, the girls call you over to join their morning gossip session.

"Hamiri-chan got her first kiss today." one of the girls excitedly tells you while Hamiri covers her face in embarrassment.

You're surprised she got it only now considering she happens to be the prettiest in the entire school. Compared to her, you look like that oddly half-painted crowd member from a nursery grade student's drawing.

Could it be... 

An odd thought enters your mind.

But Katukkun hasn't ever shown interest in her publicly. There's a chance it could be someone else... right?

But the thought doesn't leave your mind- the prettiest girl in school would obviously end up with the most popular and masculine boy, right?

Something churns in your gut and a weight rests on your chest.

"It was Kurotero-kun from the other class." Hamiri mumbles a moment later, "We've been hanging out at a park near our houses recently and well, it just happened."

A deep exhale of relief involuntarily escapes you.

"That's two girls in our class who have had their first kisses." one of the girls cheers, "Wait- that, considering you haven't yet had one, (L/n)-chan. We never asked you."

"Yeah." Hamiri turns to you, "Midoriya-kun looks like he'd explode if we asked you stuff like that."

You laugh but pause once your eyes fall into blood-red ones. It's only now that you notice that all the boys in class are sitting quietly and eavesdropping on the conversation, even Bakugou.

"(L/n)-chan's too bold and generous to lie." one of your friends butters you, "She's the greatest after all. So, (L/n)-chan," she traces her finger over your sleeve, "please tell me you've got a dramatic first kiss story to tell."

"Why," you snort, "did Hamiri-chan's story not fulfill your thirst for drama?"

"Nope." she shakes her head, "It was too sappy and too romantic." and Hamiri laughs at that, "You tell us something interesting, (L/n)-chan."

"Have you had a kiss yet?" Hamiri looks interested to know too. 

Apparently, the long silence before you reply with a "no, of course not" gives away the truth. Now you're really stressed about it.

"So someone literally wasted their time on you?" the class' female bully Hinaya steps forward, her voice sweet and sing-songed in front of the boys (Bakugou), "That's odd. Was it that or did you pay the guy to do it?"

"Hinaya-chan." your friend doesn't look happy with this.

"Oh," Hinaya's eyes widen, "you probably just kissed your hand thinking it's a boy, no? That's the only thing you can get after all." and some boys snicker.

Normally, you've always got something or the other to come back with but it just so happens that this is a particularly touchy subject- that shining boy you shared that kiss with is no longer there, he's been replaced by someone you don't recognize anymore.

"Y-Yeah... " your eyes get glassy, you try to play it off cool, "It was probably just a mistake.. "

"Oh my," Hinaya explains with her hands covering her mouth, voice turned into an annoying one she thinks is cute, "I'm so sorry, (L/n)-chan, but if you're accepting it to be a mistake, the guy would have probably wanted to die."

Your lips shut tight, eyebrows crinkled and an uncomfortable squeeze disturbing your chest.

"Aren't you going to reply, (L/n)-chan?" your friends don't understand why you haven't shut her up yet. It's too unusual of a behvaiour from you, "A-Are you crying?"

"N-No." but a tear is begging to roll down your eye. You turn back, hand raising to clean it off and just to save you at the right time, the door slams open and Midoriya slides inside yelling an "I'm late!"

He deflates in shame the moment he realizes the teacher isn't here yet and that he's made a fool of himself again.

.

You'd told Midoriya to head home without you because you needed some time alone and he was considerate enough to not question back. You're alone in the class now slowly packing your things to leave for home.

The sound of the classroom door opening makes you turn.

"Hey, (L/n)-chan." Hinaya walks in with her lips pulled inot a straight line. You hum in response.

"When did your first kiss happen?" she comes over and leans against your desk, "How old were you back then?"

You're not in the mood to have an argument or spoil your mood in any other way so you decide to give her what she wants and end this unwanted interaction quickly.

"We were like five?"

"Oh." there's an odd relief in her voice, "Well, just so you know, I'm gonna get a kiss by Katsuki-kun soon, I'll make sure of it. You can go on and enjoy your quirkless frail little bunny."

"Okay." you sling your bang over your shoulders.

She frowns, unhappy with your response, "You know, you should just jump off into a river or something. You're such an embarrassment."

"What will you accomplish by me doing that?" the headache she gives you is now splitting your head. You look away to at least not see that disgusting expression on her face.

"You tell me." she snaps, "Why the fuck was Katsuki-kun looking so smug when we were talking about your first kiss, huh?"

"What is he, your imaginary boyfriend?" you hate how she uses his first name, "And about that, Izukkun and Katsukkun," you put emphasis on the nickname, "both know who the first kiss was with."

"It was probably stupid." she eyes you head to toe, "Who'd like an ugly shithole like you anyways?"

"Neither would someone like a disgusting, smelly little bitch like you." Bakugou's voice from a little away from the both of you makes you jolt. You momentarily glance towards the door not having realized him coming in.

Bakugou has his hand in his pocket and his bag slung over his shoulder. His usual scowl rests on his face.

"What?" Hinaya's act is on again, "You're misjudging me, Katsuki-kun."

The next moment, Bakugou's hand in an inch away from his face, "You say my name one more time and I'll explode that empty head of yours."

You hate bullies and bullying but boy, you're loving this at the moment.

"But Katsu-" she realizes he's not joking around once there's sparks forming at his hands, "Bakugou-kun... I'm more closer to you than she is, right? And all she does the whole day is slut around that stupid Midoriya."

You sigh, "Calling me things like slut doesn't make you better than me, Hinaya-chan. You're the trash you are and I'm not. You know that too."

She frowns deep, "You're so full of yourself, (L/n)-chan, you're always using your smartass in front of Bakugou-kun. He wouldn't be impressed by that at all. You didn't even ask him if he was okay after the sludge incident yesterday."

Bakugou's expressions twitch uncomfortably at the mention of this incident you're unaware of.

"Sludge incident?" you look between the both of them.

"Hah." she folds her hands at her chest, "Search it up. I didn't need to go to some browser to know."

"You're gonna glorify stalking me now, eh?" a nerve in Bakugou's forehead twitches, "Sly little bitch, I'm gonna fucking end you someday."

While Hinaya protests and whines against Bakugou's hostility towards her, you're busy getting horrified on reading the article about the sludge incident.

"Katsukkun- " you begin, eyes widened in nothing but worry, "why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Izukkun tell me either- what the fuck?"

Bakugou doesn't reply, he only grabs your arm and drags you out of the classroom leaving Hinaya behind standing in shock to whatever he's said to her before you started to talk.

He continues to drag you all the way out of school into a small, secluded cafe thereby not allowing a word to leave your lips until the both of you are seated under warm yellow lights in a dark aesthetic interior of a surprisingly serene cafe.

"Don't bother me about it." he says, waving his hand in the air in front of you, "I've had enough fucking talks- that old hag wouldn't even shut up."

"Are you okay?"

"The fuck?" he looks annoyed, "You think something would happen to me because of some shitty villain?"

"No, I mean... it was still a villains attack, right? There's always some sort of minor PTSD or something of the sort." you know it's just that he's not willing to talk about it. The bags under his eyes give enough of how healthy his sleep has been the previous night.

"Stop fucking doubting me."

"I don't." you find yourself shifting closer to him, "I'm just worried... sorry if that's annoying you."

It's been some time since your words have been as soft to him. Honestly, you miss moments like these a lot- moments when it was just the two of you sitting in front of each other back when you were little and kept on talking.

This was the setting when he had once pulled your face closer to his and kissed you when you'd only been five. 

The response he had to this cheeky act was that his parents "did it all the time" and that they say one does it with the person they "love".

Sweetest and cutest confession ever.

It's just too sad that the little boy who said that all to you has turned into the gruff, rude bully sitting in front of you.

Bakugou orders a specific ice cream combination the both of you would eat when you were younger. He doesn't once lift his gaze to look at you after that.

Now, you're left to wonder whether he actually remembered or whether his taste hasn't changed in some nine years.

"About what I had to talk about," he starts suddenly, "about all that happened in class today.. " he is cut off by you mid sentence.

"I know, I know." you heart droops, "I won't ever let anyone ever know that you've had an unfortunate kiss with me. It's alright, you're secret is secured with me, Katsukkun."

He blinks, "What's so fucking unfortunate about it?"

"Huh?"

"What's so fucking unfortunate about it? When I become the number one hero, there's going to be lines of girls wishing to get kisses. Why do you think it's unfortunate, then?"

Your lips open, then close. You stare at him for a moment, "I mean, it's unfortunate for you, right? You were too young to think properly at that time and ended up doing something intimate with someone you didn't actually like."

When Bakugou turns to you, his eyes reflect a certain determination- it's as if what he is thinking at the moment is something he has pondered upon for years and years already.

There isn't even a frown on his pretty face, he only looks concentrated. 

When he opens his mouth, words you'd never expect him to say fall out, "Why? Why did you choose him over me?"

"Who?" but you already know who he is talking about. You swallow, "I chose Izukkun over you?"

He doesn't reply but the look in his eyes gives you all the answers you need.

"I didn't choose him over you," tears form in your eyes, "he's been like a brother to me ever since we were little. It's you, Katsukkun, you're the one who chose to behave like a fucking bitch with him and expect everything to be normal with me after that."

Bakugou looks surprised at that although you feel there couldn't be anything more obvious that this. 

"So you don't like him?"

"He's my friend, of course I do."

"Like, the like like him, dumbass." Bakugou frowns.

"No." you rubs your eyes to wipe off the tears, "I don't like him romantically if that's what you're asking."

"Hah." he doesn't look convinced, "All you do is fuck around with him all day and I'm supposed to feel he isn't anything."

"He's like a brother." you're not liking the way there is a percentage of disbelief in his eyes, "And besides, this all shouldn't really be mattering to you."

"Why not?"

You blink, "Why would it?"

Bakugou's head turns away, his eyebrows raising in what seems to you to be frustration. He pauses for a little, eyes flickering around as though looking for the right words to say, then turns back to you.

"Why wouldn't it?"

Wow, genius. You take all the time of the world just to reply with that?

You choose to keep your thoughts to yourself, however, "Why should it?"

"Why shouldn't it?"

"Why would it?" your tone rises the slightest bit. You don't like this game of questions at all, you don't understand what he's trying to get at.

"I don't know, you tell me." he snaps, "You tell me why it would bother me."

"There's no reason for you to." you frown, "You chose to be the guy who bullies his childhood friends, Katsukkun. There's no reason for you to be bothered if I protect my friend from a bully."

Bakugou inhales and exhales deeply, his eyes rolling over to the side and back leaning into the chair. A few moments of silence pass before he turns back to you.

"Do you really not know or are you just acting?"

"Huh?" 

He shifts and straightens to lean forward, "Okay, listen. I'll say this once... " Bakugou inhales deep, "It... wasn't a mistake."

You blink.

"The kiss." he clears his throat, "I... really liked you back then. We were young and whatever but... it was genuine, okay?"

"How genuine can five year olds kissing be?" the words leave your mouth way too quick, "I mean, we should have been doing something like that at such a young age in the first place."

"We were pretty young." Bakugou's lips tighten, "But that doesn't fucking mean it couldn't have been true."

"Are you sure you liked me back then?" it's bittersweet to know he once had feelings for you.

Bakugou is quiet for a moment. When he opens his mouth again, his eyes are dead focused into yours, "I still do. I have.. e-ever since we were kids."

A spark runs down your body, jaw dropping and eyes widening at him.

"Y-You what?"

He inhales loudly and turns away, "I still like you... I don't like it when you're around that damned Deku the whole day. You're not supposed to be with that loser."

"You like me?" your voice is barely a whisper, "What.. no- wait.. what the- wow. What the fuck, wow."

"You like that?" his eyebrows raise at the floods of red filling into your cheeks, "Are you– what the fuck are you crying for?"

You haven't realized the tears in your eyes until now, "Wh-What... no. I'm not crying.. I'm.." a small cough escapes your lips, "uhm.. so..."

"Mhm?" Bakugou is waiting for the response although he doesn't make it too obvious.

"I... really miss you everyday, Katsukkun." you end up saying, "I miss what you used to be, I can't take the idea of you becoming a bully or a mean person. It hurts."

"What?"

"It hurts so fucking much because I... " you swallow and wipe your tears, "I really like you too. But... I-I can't.."

"Because of him?" his teeth grit, "That Deku–"

"Because you kept on saying you'd be a hero but all you are is a thug, Katsukkun." you snap. A tear rolls down your cheek, "Because it's you whose wrong not him. I can't love a guy who bullies. Feelings for you make me guilty."

Bakugou blinks, "Love?"

"Well what do you expect?" you hysterically laugh it out amidst the tears then swallow, "Other than this one thing, you're great."

"You love me?"

"I do." you nod, hands wiping down your tears, "I really fucking do."

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you while you clean your face and try to calm down. It's too odd for you to be crying this way while accepting your feelings for him especially when the both of you are sitting in a restaurant.

"If... " Bakugou is staring at the ground, "If I ignore him... " he turns to you, " w-would you give me a chance?"

You blink, "A-A chance?"

"To be with you?" he straightens, "To be together?"

Something blooms in your chest, "I... " there's nothing you could ever have wanted more, "Yeah. I'd... love that."

"Great." Bakugou falls back into the chair.

You pause, "But that does mean now bullying him or anyone when I'm around. And I don't want any drama."

"Hah." his eyebrows raise, "You're the one who'd be causing the drama, okay? I don't care about stupid drama."

A small tug makes your lips stretch to a smile, "If you be bitch, I'll dump you Katsukkun."

"Well I'll dump you before that." he snaps.

"Oh, so you want to dump me?" you dramatically clutch your heart and pick your thinks up, "I should be leaving then, no?"

"Oi." he grabs your hand and pulls you down, "Stop it. And there you are proving what I'm saying, dramatic, stupid little girl."

"Says the guy who is serious about the girl he kissed when was five." you giggle.

Bakugou frowns, his ears now visibly getting redder, "Says the girl who's in love with me."

[rednite-dork]

I'm back from the dead!

I had a rough end of the year - I finally graduated, we adopted a new cat and we moved back to my home town, so I held a small hiatus to gather up my strength lmao. But I saw this OTP meme floating around a few months ago and I wanted to do my own version of Sebastian and my MC!

More yapping about them below vvv

I had this laying on my files for a long while actually, but I was struggling with a song that I would put as a "theme song" - I usually don't practice those w my ships lol - but I heard Hozier's version of Do I Wanna Know a while ago and idk it really gave the vibe I was looking for them 🥰

I basically have two endings for them, one that's "fanon" where I can play sandbox with them and they'll have a happily ever after, and the "canon" ending that'll follow the upcoming games' lore (assuming the next games are direct sequels) - honestly I'm a sucker for the idea of them yearning for each other but unable to be together, and I can just imagine Seb possibly yearning for MC after the HL events and going to the HL sequel, he misses her and their little adventures and he kind of starts to romanticize things in his head and starts to have feelings for her - but him being too late to pursue her 🥲 and I feel like the theme song really captures the vibe of that idea!! can't wait to explore this more lmao

I also did some "graphology" specifically for this OTP meme, cause I like the idea of their personalities and quirks showing up from their handwriting, and here's what I have about them! I dunno if it's accurate or not, but hey, it's something, hope you like it anyways!

[companionjones]

Mornings With Connor

Pairing: Connor rk800 x Reader

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Warnings: Some references to smut

Slowly, the world woke you up. You opened your eyes to the sun streaming through the curtains, and Connor gazing at you.

"Good morning...love."

You could tell that him using the word 'love' was a very thought-out decision. You smiled at the effort. "Morning, baby." You leaned forward, kissed his nose, and watched his cheek turn a light shade of blue. You got out of bed to start gathering your clothes that were strewn about the night before.

Connor sat up in bed. "Do you...have to go so soon?"

"Unfortunately, I do," you informed, "Today's a two-show day at the theater...I'll be out all day. Sorry." You spared him a guilty look.

He sat up a little more. "No, it's okay. You're doing something you love, right?"

Your eyebrows quirked up, and you crawled onto the bed, toward Connor. "I'd rather be doing someone I love." You drew your boyfriend in for a kiss.

When you parted from him, Connor chased your lips for a moment before backing down. He looked uncomfortable. "Uhm...Y/n?"

It was rare for Connor to hesitate like that, so he had your full attention.

He went on, "I've noticed that you've spent every night here the past two weeks, and I was wondering..."

"Yes, Connor?" you encouraged when he trailed off.

He was quiet for a moment more. It was like he was having a heavy debate inside his head. "Would you like to move in with me?" he finally asked. His words were quick, like he was forcing them out.

The question caused you to gasp. You were taken aback. Your mind went blank.

"Please, don't be frightened by the question," Connor urged when you didn't say anything right away. "I would hate to do anything to hurt our relationship, but I've done research on couples, and it is around this point that most move in together."

"Yeah, it is. Isn't it?" A smile started to appear on your face.

He went on, "Plus, I can't exactly say that I'm opposed to the concept when actually, I'm all for it."

You were grinning ear-to-ear. "I am, too."

Tension released from Connor's shoulders. "You are?"

"Of course I am, sweetheart!"

Connor laughed like he couldn't believe you had said yes. "This is amazing news, Y/n!" He tackled you with a kiss on the bed. He was then laying on top of you.

"I know, sweetheart." You giggled when you broke the kiss. You stroked his cheek. "I love you so much."

Connor leaned down to give you another quick kiss. He pressed his forehead against yours when he parted. "I love you too, baby." That time, the petname seemed far less premeditated.

For a moment, you relished in the closeness with Connor. Then, you opened your mouth. "I really don't want to end this moment, but I really gotta go."

"Right." Connor's eyes went wide, and he got off of you. "Well, have a good day at work...sweetheart." There was that conscious effort again.

You loved it. You loved him. You gave him a quick kiss goodbye. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too," Connor replied as you headed for the door.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you can. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[bloody-night]

Fur I.

Wriothesley x male reader

Genuinely… why isn’t there any more Wriothesley fics bro

Idk how long this is but I basically made a long ass story, read if you like.

In the Fortress of Meropide, you had a job, cleaning, which wasn’t all that difficult, but rather boring. Yes, the prisoners also do the cleaning, but you had signed up for a free position for some extra bucks, plus, the love of your life was here too.

Wriothesley, the one who watched over everyone and everything in the Fortress. He doesn’t know that he’s the love of your life now, but he might be connecting some dots at this point.

You’d always stare at him, from afar or close, you’d steal a quick glance or two, before continuing to mop and clean the areas. He’s even managed to get a couple of looks as well. Questioning on what you were thinking. Quitting? Perhaps bonus pay? More hours? He thought about things similar to that.

But oh no, you most definitely were happy with the job and pay it had, more certainly the hours he gave you.

All you thought about was that ass and tits, as well as that pretty little mouth.

You couldn’t help but fantasize about Wriothesley, and him being all yours. Fucking him on his desk, or even on the couch he had, maybe possibly on his chair as well.

Him riding your heavy cock, tits bouncing with each ride he gave you. Panting and saying your name. “M/n.” Yea… just like that.

“-n?… M/n..!”

You jolted, looking to see who was calling you, which was Wriothesley. “H-huh?” “Is something wrong? You’ve been starring at the bucket for a while now… starting to think you’re losing your interest in this job…” He teased, giving you a slight smirk, before returning to his “mean boss” facade. You scoffed, “No sir, just thinking on where to start.” “Right… well, once you’re done I’ll need to talk to you in my office. I need to discuss about your job.” He said, turning around to walk away.

What?

“W-wait, am I fired!?” You suddenly shouted, hearing your sentence repeat all throughout the Fortress, causing heads to turn. You cleared your throat, seeing Wriothesley turn his head, quirking a brow before continuing to walk away. “What a response.” You mumbled, before sighing and working on the floors.

When did mopping the floors get so nerving? Your hands were sweaty, more sweaty than on an average day. Your day seemed to go a lot slower as you cleaned every surface, wiping the tables and cleaning the restrooms. You didn’t even hear anything other than your heart pounding in your chest.

Is this it? Will you be fired and never get to see your lover go down on you?

You gulped as you stored everything away, taking a quick shower and changing into a more appealing yet comforting attire. Making your way to the Duke’s office… place…. area…. whatever it was.

Your feet have never been any heavier, you felt like you were walking in slo-mo, your nerves were through the roof. Eyes staring blankly at the large door after you. Pretty sure there were some head to look, but what more of it? Shaky breath left those pursed lips of yours, before, finally, you knocked, hearing a charming “come in.”

My breath hitched in my throat

You took a look around the first floor, noting how it didn’t look as different as when you were applying for the position. You heard the booming yet entailing music of the phonogram. “Heard you needed to see me? Sir?” You spoke clearly, walking and closing the door behind you. There was no lock needed. “Up here.” You trailed the man’s voice, heading upstairs.

“Ah… M/n… great seeing you here.” He spoke, giving you a glance before continuing whatever paperwork he had. “Take a seat over there.” He motioned at the sofa not far from his desk. You nodded and walked to the sofa, sitting down and patiently waiting for your man to finish his work.

“Apologies about that, caught me in some paperwork.” He said, chuckling breathlessly, which was hot. Anything your lover does is so hot, incredibly hot you can’t help but to touch yourself every night at the thought of him.

Only one dirty thought of him, not even dirty, just admiring how handsome he is, has you stroking your throbbing cock.

“A-ah… it’s fine, I don’t mind waiting at all….” …For you. He looked at you, those icy eyes squinting a tad bit, before they widened. “Ah! Tea? Sorry, I should’ve offered since you’ve walked in.” He gulped, his Adam’s apple bouncing at that. “Yes please..” You mumbled, staring at him admiringly, feeling your pants tighten slightly.

You ignored what your lower region spoke, head filled with images and phantom sounds of Wriothesley begging to get fucked by you, sprawled out on his desk as you held his wrists in place, grinding up against that pretty perfect ass.

“Here we are…” He spoke softly, sitting next to you, pouring some sweetly smelling tea. “This is my favorite batch, I always ask for it monthly, simply can’t live without it.” He admitted, smiling softly as he slid the cup closer to you, his eyes flickering downwards at you, before quickly looking up. Pervert. As to thinking about how pervy he is, his cheeks seemed to be tinting a bit redder each time you looked at him.

You bit the innards of your cheek. “Thank you!” You breathlessly appreciated, taking a sip of the tea, humming in delight as the sweet taste filled your mouth. “Delicious.” You whispered, not really caring if tea was your thing or not, you’d take anything given to you by this man.

Is it getting hot in here?

“Right… time to get on the topic.” He mumbled, adjusting himself better, sitting upright and leaning against the arm rest of the sofa on the other side. His arms crossing around his fat pecs. “What do you think about your job?” He asked, quirking a brow as his lips pressed together, plump lips. “Ah- u-uhm, I think it’s a great job…? I haven’t had any complains lately, why?” You genuinely asked.

Please don’t fire me… I still want to show you my dick…

You internally clenched your jaw, huffing quietly yet it was heard by the Duke. “Really? Ah, I must’ve been reading you wrong then.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, showing those flexed biceps of his. He stared at you, see how you were eager to learn more as to what he was ‘reading’. “I thought you were secretly begging for more hours, or work?” He spoke, quirking a brow. “Really?..-“ “Yes… with the way you stare at me and-“ Wriothesley couldn’t even finish his sentence as you seemingly choked on the tea you were sipping on.

You coughed as you felt his strong hand gently slap your back. “Sorry- sorry.” You mustered, clearing your throat. “Staring at you?” You repeated. Wriothesley nodded, the worry off his face and fixing himself. “Yea.. I have caught you staring at me, even from afar..? Your eyes would always look away from me after I catch you peeking, especially when you thought I didn’t notice.” He breathed, taking a sip of tea, pupils flickering downwards at you before picking them up.

Why do you keep staring at my pants?

…And why have they gotten tighter….

“Oh… I apologize, I seem to be thinking of other things.” You lied, gulping nervously. “Please don’t think I’m trying to quit or the very least asking for more hours.” You admitted, turning your entire body to face Wriothesley appropriately. “I’m more than happy with my hours and payment.” You spoke, nodding happily as well with finishing it with your flashiest smile.

“Oh, really?” Wriothesley teased. At the same time you gripped your pants, Wriothesley’s breath hitched. “I-I’m sorry, but are we going to fix your problem we have here?” He stuttered, when has he ever stuttered?

And what problem?…

You slowly glanced down, seeing the massive bulge your attention-whore of a cock was seeking. “O-oh shit!” You cursed, quickly covering your bulge with your hands, hissing with the slighted friction you gave. “I-I’m so sorry, Sir! I didn’t notice.” You mumbled, panicking internally.

“I did…” He mumbled, sipping his tea quietly, placing it back down onto the table. “Ever since I sat next to you, you’ve been…” He gulped, “Hard…” You blushed at this, it was embarrassing, but The Duke has not said anything about your cock rather than giving it a few glances here and there.

“I will fix it soon, sorry, I must go now..” You mumbled, a bit emotional as you thought this was your ticket to leave the premises of the Fortress and never see your husband again.

“Wait..” You felt his strong bandaged hand envelope itself around your arm, not letting you even stand up. You couldn’t even look at him, what client gets hard midway throughout his work discussion??

“I can help you… if you’d like…” You heard him whisper. You couldn’t even ask and glance at him before feeling his body move closer to you. His hold on you let go, yet his hand snaked on your thigh. “Would you like that?” He whispered, soft lips touching your neck. You groaned, the Duke’s hand moving to squeeze the innards of your plush yet toned thighs. “Mmm… yea…-“ You froze “W-Wait!” You pushed Wriothesley suddenly, ignoring how hot your face was, and noticing the red cheeks on your lover’s face. “Isn’t this wrong?” You asked, gulping nervously. Wriothesley chuckled, letting out a small laugh, oh fuck… that laugh got you EXTRA hard.

“Who’s the duke in this place?” He mumbled, pushing you to lay your head against the arm rest behind you. “I’m the one who rules this place, everything goes through to me.” He spoke, you nodded at what he listed. He was right, but this was nerving. Has he done this with others? That broke your heart, you thought you were his first. But who’s first is he? With all that ass and tits, surely he laid with some women or men, or both. Gulp!

“Thinking if I’m your first?” You could say that... “I’ve only ‘laid’ with a chick before. But I didn’t really full fledged slept with her.” He admitted. “Why me, then?” You asked, seeing how the black-grey haired was rubbing your thighs, staring at your eyes. “You’ve always seemed interesting, ever since you applied here I’ve taken an interest in you, sweetie.” He admitted, winking at you as you felt your pants being pulled down.

You gulped, still feeling that lump in your throat. Wriothesley leaned down, fuck, that position he held was so hot. His head close to your twitching cock as his ass could be seen behind him, it was round and plush, the half of a heart.

Wriothesley breathed teasingly against your dick, before lapping his lips around the figure through the cloth, sucking on it, his teeth sometimes pressing against it. “S-shit… Wrio…” You panted softly, half closed eye lids staring at your beautiful husband.

Your legs were spread, spread enough on the couch. Wriothesley’s arms being under and around your thighs, his head in between your legs, a dream you never thought would come to life.

With the continuos sucking through your underwear, Wrio noted the big patch and pre staining your underwear, making him question how long you’ve wanted this. He hummed and smirked, latching his teeth around the hem of your underwear. Pulling them teasingly slow off of you.

You didn’t say anything, you were in a trance, staring at your babe working so hot on you. “You’re big.” He breathlessly admitted, strong yet soft hands wrapping around your cock, giving it slow teasing strokes, his head resting on the flesh beside your erect member. Icy eyes piercing your very own, filled with nothing but eagerness and… love?

“Y-yea… sorry.” You stuttered, earning a small chuckle from the Duke. “I like it.” He whispered, kissing the base of your cock, earning him a twitch and whimper in response. Your cock was throbbing in his hands, as he gave it small, gentle strokes. His eyes moved from you to your appraising dick, almost as if he were drooling at the mere sight, which he was.

“You could fill me up with this.” He mumbled, but you heard it.

His hands stroked you gently, before quickening up the pace, getting breathless the more he stroked you. He then proceeded to kiss your member, small, licked lips, kissing everywhere around your girth. “M-my… you seem to know how to work me.” You joked, chuckling softly before groaning quietly, letting out small whimpers and moans. “I’ve read here and there.” He admitted, winking at you before continuing.

From kissing to licking, this man had you moaning his name in small amounts. His tongue licked from the base to your tip, giving it a suck before continuing. Mixing kissing and licking here and there. Occasionally sucking on some areas around your length. “Mmm… Wrio..” You whispered, your hands reaching to touch him, but scared to mess anything up, you never did feel him. He took note of that.

“You can touch me, sweetie, don’t be nervous… I want you to..” He whispered, grabbing your hand gently and placing it on his cheeks, in which he leaned against your palm. You hummed and nodded, caressing his cheeks as he continued his work.

The way he licked you up and down was so lewd, the way his tongue itself touched your cock was such a scene that turned you on easily. You were in a trance, moaning and grunting his name. “Wrio…”

“Ah.. lo-“ You were cut off with a jolt, hearing a loud knocking. “Sir? I’ve got some paperwork.” You heard from downstairs. “I’m busy right now! Come back in thirty minutes!” You heard Wriothesley shout, groaning as he heard and looked for anyone coming up. The worker sighed, giving an ‘okay’ before leaving.

You panted as you stared at Wrio wide eyed. “Apologies, shall we continue?” He asked, smirking at you, before continuing his lewd acts, not even giving you a chance to nod. He knew what you wanted, and was glad to provide for you.

From licking and kissing he now was ready to finally go down on you. He currently stared at your twitching cock, eager to be released. He was admiring how big it was, and if he could even fit the entirety of it, we’ll just have to wait and see.

He adjusted himself, opening his mouth wide, before going teasingly all the way down, the best he could, eyes closed and focused on feeling how long you were. You felt how he was careful not to touch you with anything before he reached the base. You gasped, feeling Wriothesley finally close his mouth, hearing his muffled groans.

Your hand went to entangle its fingers with the Duke’s hair, giving a few pulls here and there. Wriothesley grunted, staying still for a few, adjusting your length around his mouth. He huffed, eyes opening to stare at you, beautiful icy eyes.

He then started moving. Archons, life has never been this good before.

“F-fuck… Wrio…” You moaned, head arching back as you felt his hot mouth work miracles on you. You heard a stifle chuckle, before the sounds of slurping and sucking became louder each time.

From head slowly bobbing, to quick paced sucking and work, you were left breathless. Moaning his name every now and then. Wriothesley made lewd noises as he sucked, licked, and kissed, combining all methods from before. Those eyes of his never leaving your face, getting a tad bit embarrassed but turned on.

His fingers pressed tightly against you thighs, feeling them tense and relax. Sometimes your hips would thrust upwards, choking him slightly before he regained himself, smiling a bit after hearing your “sorry! Sorry!”.

You were close, and he knew. He felt how much pre left your cock, smearing all over his throat. You felt the knot tightening around your stomach. “Close.. I’m close, sir.” At this point on, you didn’t know what you were saying, you were rambling. Wriothesley loved it. Your eyes were shut for a while, but now you were in bliss, staring back at Wrio and fawning over him. “C’mon Wrio, I’m close baby.. so close, my sweet.” You moaned, hand caressing his pretty face.

Wriothesley couldn’t help but blush over you and your rambling, hearing your pants and having your cock in his mouth was a bit too much. Wriothesley pulled away from your cock, before stroking it. “Cum for me? Please cum for me.” He begged, his eyes softening at you, begging desperately. “Keep going my lovely, and you’ll get it.” You responded smirking before grunting.

Wriothesley chuckled, before latching his lips around your tip, sucking as his hand jerked you off. You moaned before quickly wrapping your strong legs around Wriothesley’s head, which he noticed a tad bit too late.

Your legs pushed his face down onto you again, causing him to choke slightly, both your hands pressing him even lower, your cock reaching new depths into his throat. Wriothesley moaned as tears pricked his eyes, some falling and trickling down. Your hips thrusted upwards, before finally, releasing your spill inside your husband’s mouth.

Wrio blushed immensely, staring through teary eyes at how focused you looked to release, eyes tightly shut and body twitching. The Duke swallowed your thick and large amounted seed, feeling how pent up you were for so long, his poor M/n… wait… his?

You finally let go of Wrio, catching your breath, before panicking. “Crap! I’m so sorry sir! I didn’t mean to do that!” You spoke, quickly sitting up as your cock finally relaxed, returning soft slowly. Wriothesley choked before taking a sip of his tea. “Ah… it’s fine, I enjoyed it.” He simply admitted, having that blush on his face. You softly chuckled.

“Thank you… for helping me… and uh- not firing me.” You said, chuckling. Wriothelesy huffed and smiled, enjoying your sense. Wriothesley hummed as he gave you back your pants and underwear, making you a bit flustered.

“Is this it?” “Yea, pants and underwear..-“ “n-no I mean… is this the end of it?” You asked, looking at Wrio with puppy-dog eyes. Fuck… how can he say no? As if he was even thinking about it. He wouldn’t say no to you… but you won’t know that.

“A fling?” He mumbled, seeing your head nod. “Not if you want it to be…” He whispered seductively, kissing your lips, before giving a firm bite, earning him a small moan from you. His arms wrapping themselves around you, his own arousal increasing as yours was too.

Before the pounding was heard again, followed by Wriothesley’s annoyed groan.

“Later…”

[t1red-twilight]

Hey! I was wondering if youre open to writing a chubby or plus size reader? If so would you be willing to do a peter parker or steve harrington one with the fluff prompt 'can i borrow your sweater' but its the readers sweater cause theyre a little bigger then them yk? Sorry if this makes you uncomfy, you can ignore it i was just curious :) ty!

can i borrow your sweater?

content/warnings: gn!reader, chubby/plus size!reader, fluff, clingy peter</3

notes: thank you for requesting! this is such a cute idea, and also writing for a chubbier reader was so fun. i myself am midsize and i loved writing this<3

word count: 1.3k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

winter in new york had come early this year. this had not been a problem for you, as you thrived in the cold. most of the clothes that you owned were sweaters.

also, as of late your rent had gone up and you couldn’t afford to pay it. so, your best friend peter offered to let you move in and you could split his rent. after some back and forth, and peter assuring you it’d be no big deal, you moved in.

there were two issues, and one that you had not been informed of. peter’s apartment complex had a habit of the heat going out, and the landlord seemed to not care when anyone would complain about it.

the other problem was that you possibly, maybe, perhaps, most likely, had a crush on peter. something about his soft voice and his gentle hands enthralled you. or perhaps it was his penchant for justice and standing up for what he believed in. either way, the butterflies that ravaged your stomach when he entered a room only grew in size when you moved in.

luckily, regarding problem number 1, you were set. a tee shirt plus a sweater or two and you were good to go. somewhere in your boxes was your heated blanket, but presently you couldn’t find it in you to loot around in your things just yet.

currently, you were wearing two sweaters and sitting underneath one of peter’s throw blankets on the couch, watching tv. out of the corner of your eye you saw peter exit his room and enter the living room.

the first thing that you noticed was how bare he was considering the current circumstances. the heat had gone out in the apartment again, and there was a storm coming in. just your luck, however, talking to or messaging the landlord was fruitless as he never responded over weekends.

seeing as all you had was a tiny space heater, peter not stocking up and drowning himself in a sweater or two was weird. when he sat down you gave him a weird look. “aren’t you cold?” you asked.

peter immediately shook his head, a little too enthusiastically. “do you want some blanket?” you followed up. this time he paused, and then nodded affirmatively. you held up the side of the blanket and he scooted closer to you. it seemed as if the hum of the television went silent as he curled into you.

peter’s chin rested on top of your shoulder and the rest of his body pressed up against and into your side. every now and then he would nestle in closer, almost like a dog or a cat settling in for the night.

then you felt it: shivering. despite staring your body heat and a blanket, peter began to shiver. “do you want to go get a sweater or a hoodie or something? you’re practically vibrating, pete,” you said. your voice was lowered as he was so close to you.

peter nodded before answering, “yeah,” he paused. “but all mine are dirty right now.” you turned your head to look at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“you don’t have any?”

at your question, he shook his head “no.” you had unpacked most of your wardrobe. he could definitely wear one of yours. “do you want to wear one of mine?”

his head turned to look at you. his soft brown eyes looked almost pleading. “yes,” he said curtly. following his answer, you stood to go and grab one from your room. just as you were placing the blanket back down to cover peter, he stopped you.

“no, i want that one,” he said, pointing at the outwardmost purple sweater that you were wearing. huh? your face scrunched up in confusion. why would he want this one? “it’ll be warm already cause you’ve been wearing it.” his voice dropped a couple decibels and his eyes darted away a few times.

you slid the sweater off and became aware that your layers had risen slightly to show the expanse of your belly. quickly, you jerked your shirt and the remaining sweater back down. you handed the purple knit sweater over to peter.

you were aware of your size, and that in some places you were bigger than peter. sometimes you were more aware of it than others. needless to say, your sweater should have no problem fitting him.

when he put it on, he looked so very snug. he pulled the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and the neckline up to his chin. oddly enough, peter’s cozy appearance made you feel almost territorial. there he was, your best friend, wearing your clothes. perhaps you’d have to find a way to get him to do this again; but maybe that was just being selfish.

it hit you that you were staring him down when his hand wrapped itself around your wrist and tugged you back towards him on the couch. this time he pulled the blanket up to allow you to crawl underneath it. as quickly as he could, he burrowed in close to you just as he had before.

sure, the lack of your second sweater made the chill a little more obvious, but frankly, you couldn’t really feel it. a flustered heat rose to your cheeks and encompassed your body.

you tried with all your might to go back to watching the show that was playing, but you couldn’t focus. after all, your best friend (who you weren’t really sure how you felt about) was huddled up close to you, while wearing your clothes. needless to say, you were beyond distracted.

peter’s breath brushed against your face, and you could smell the fresh scent of the cologne or aftershave he had on.

after an agonizing thirty-ish minutes, peter spoke. “i think it’s time for bed,” he mumbled.

you hummed in affirmation, trying to find the strength to speak without your voice breaking. “yeah,” was all you managed to get out. the two of you stayed sitting for a couple more moments before you stood up. your back was stiff and your cheeks were still hot. you briefly turned to wave at him, and gave a strangled, “good night, peter.”

“wait!” he called. you stopped mid-step to look back at him. he was standing, both hands held out. “it’s going to be a cold night,” he stated. you nodded. duh. “you’re going to get really cold,” he continued. you weren’t really sure if you were the one to be worried about, to be honest.

peter took two steps toward you. “i’m not sure you should really be worried about that,” you vocalized. “seeing as you needed my sweater just now.”

“yes!” his voice was slightly louder. “i’m going to get really cold.” your eyebrows scrunched, unsure of what he was getting at. “that’s why i think you should sleep in my room tonight. to, uh-” he swallowed and his adam’s apple bobbed. “to share body heat.”

at this moment you could hear your heart in your ears. your mouth was slightly agape, but you closed it quickly. all you could do was nod and let peter lead you to his room.

you were familiar with his room and all the trinkets that he had inside of it. peter pulled back the sheets and duvet on one side before walking around to the other side and getting in. as casually as possible you got in too. this was perfectly normal! best friends totally did stuff like this all the time. this was no big deal.

before you could even get a grip on what your racing mind was thinking, peter was right next to you, scooting in again. you took a deep breath and decided that if you were going to share a bed with him, you might as well do it on your own terms. nerves, or not.

you mimicked his action and inched in towards him, and curled an arm around his waist. he followed, and pulled your body in to his. you could hear his steady heartbeat from the angle you were at.

then, you saw from over his shoulder a drawer that sat opened just a little. what was in it made your smitten heart beat a little harder with infatuation. in the drawer sat peter’s own collection of sweaters. there they sat, and they were clean.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 29 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇Raphael being a good dad

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Y/n sat by the open window, gently running a carved ivory comb through Phebie’s soft, dark curls. The little girl sat on the floor between her mother’s legs, kicking her feet idly, her tiny fingers playing with the hem of her chiton. The afternoon light filtered in, casting a golden hue over the room, making everything feel deceptively peaceful.

Then the door creaked open. Her grip on the comb tightened instinctively. Raphael strode in, his usual smug smile in place, his arms wrapped securely around Adonis. The boy was giggling, his little hands grasping at his captor’s tunic as Raphael carried him effortlessly, as if he were truly his son. “Look at him,” Raphael cooed, bouncing Adonis slightly, causing another fit of giggles. “He’s been running around all day, and he still has so much energy. Just like his father.”

Her hand froze mid stroke. Her jaw clenched. His father. Adonis, oblivious to the tension, beamed up at her. “Mama! Raphael showed me how to hold a sword!”

Her stomach twisted. His name shouldn’t even be in your mouth, my love. But she forced a small smile for Adonis’ sake, her free hand reaching out to brush some wild strands of hair from his face. “Did he now?”

Raphael hummed, adjusting his grip on the boy as he stepped closer. “He’s got a good stance for his age. Natural talent.” He glanced at his wife with that infuriatingly soft expression he always wore around her, like he truly believed this was his family. “Just like you.” She ignored him, returning to Phebie’s hair. The little girl had gone quiet, curling deeper into her mother’s lap as Raphael approached.

He noticed. His lips quirked slightly, amused. “She’s always so attached to you,” he mused, adjusting Adonis on his hip. “It’s sweet.” Then, with a smirk, “Though I do wonder if she’ll ever come running to me like this.”

She finally looked up at him, her face unreadable. “She won’t.”

Raphael chuckled, shifting Adonis slightly so he could reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind y/n’s ear. His fingers lingered a moment too long. “You wound me, my love.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just continued combing through Phebie’s curls, her movements slow and methodical. “I told you not to call me that.” Raphael only smiled, like she was amusing him. Like she wasn’t worth taking seriously. And somehow, that infuriated her more than anything else.

Raphael’s gaze lingered on the faint scar marring Phebie’s knee, his usual warmth flickering into something unreadable. He crouched slightly, shifting Adonis on his hip as he reached out, the pad of his thumb ghosting over the mark. The little girl flinched and pressed herself further into her mother’s lap, her tiny fingers twisting into the folds of her mother’s chiton.

Her hand paused mid stroke in her daughter’s curls, her entire body going unnaturally still. Raphael exhaled sharply through his nose. “What happened?” His voice was calm, measured, but there was an edge to it—a quiet demand rather than a question.

She resumed combing Phebie’s hair as if nothing had happened, her expression unreadable. “She fell.”

His brows furrowed. “When?”

“Days ago.”

Raphael’s jaw clenched. “And no one told me?”

“There was no reason to.”

His eyes darkened. Slowly, he stood to his full height, his fingers twitching at his side. “No reason? Y/n, she’s a child—”

“It was a scraped knee,” she interrupted, her voice infuriatingly indifferent.

“It was an injury,” he corrected, his tone growing sharper. “It could’ve gotten infected.”

She finally looked at him, and for a moment, something cold flickered behind her gaze. “It didn’t.” He held her stare, searching her face for any sign of remorse, concern—anything. But there was nothing. Just the same distant, apathetic expression she always gave him when she wanted him to shut up.

Raphael inhaled deeply, willing himself to stay calm. “You should have called for a healer,” he pressed, his voice dropping slightly.

She turned her attention back to Phebie, who had nestled her face into her mother’s chest, sucking lightly on the fabric of her chiton. “There was no need.”

“Not even to tell me?” Raphael took a step closer, shifting Adonis to his other hip. His smile was gone now, his patience thinning.

She didn’t respond. His fingers curled into his palm. He had seen her be tender—had watched her press soft kisses to Adonis’ temple when he was tired, had seen the way she instinctively reached for Phebie when she cried. That warmth, that care—he knew it was there. But when it came to him, there was always this unbearable distance.

His hand twitched, aching to touch her, to bridge that gap between them. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Phebie’s small, fragile form.

“She’s your daughter too, you know.”

She gave him a look then, something unreadable flashing across her face before it was gone. She didn’t argue. Didn’t correct him. She just went back to combing through Phebie’s hair, her movements slow and methodical, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. Raphael stood there for a moment longer, waiting for something—anything. A glance, a remark, a fight. But there was nothing.

With a quiet exhale, he forced himself to step back, adjusting his hold on Adonis. But the tension in the room lingered, thick and suffocating, refusing to fade. Raphael gently pried Phebie from her lap, lifting her into his arms with practiced ease. The little girl clung to his tunic, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric as she let out a soft sniffle, still nestled against his chest.

He hummed soothingly, pressing a kiss to her dark curls. “There, there, little dove,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Papa will make it better.” Y/n didn’t acknowledge his words, but he felt her watching as he carried Phebie across the room. With one arm securing her against his hip, he reached for a small wooden box on the nearby table. Inside, delicate pieces of honeyed figs and candied nuts sat neatly wrapped in parchment—sweet treats imported from a distant land, ones he had ordered specifically for Phebie.

He unwrapped a piece and held it to her lips. “Here, little one. This will help.” Phebie hesitated for a moment, peering up at him with wide, teary eyes. Then, slowly, she opened her mouth, allowing him to place the treat on her tongue.

“There’s my adorable daughter,” he whispered, rocking her slightly as she chewed. Her sniffles quieted, and after a few moments, she reached for another piece. Raphael chuckled, indulging her without hesitation. “Ah, so you do like them,” he teased, brushing a stray curl from her face. Phebie nibbled on the sweet, her small body relaxing against him. The tension in the room seemed to ease—at least for her. But when Raphael glanced up, his gaze met y/n’s, and his smug satisfaction dimmed.

She wasn’t softened by the sight. She wasn’t grateful. She was merely watching, her expression unreadable, as if she were assessing him like a stranger.

His grip on Phebie tightened slightly. “See?” he said, forcing a smirk, though it felt weaker than usual. “She needs me.” She tilted her head, her gaze flickering between him and their daughter. And then, without a word, she simply turned away. Raphael clenched his jaw, returning his attention to Phebie, who had now rested her head against his shoulder, completely content in his arms.

Even if she wouldn’t see it now—one day, she would understand.

——

Y/n stood at the threshold of the garden, her grip on the doorframe tightening until her knuckles turned white. The golden glow of the afternoon sun bathed the courtyard in warmth, casting long shadows as Raphael swung Adonis into the air, the boy’s delighted laughter ringing through the open space. “I got you, little warrior!” Raphael declared, holding the boy to his chest as Adonis clung to him, breathless from giggling.

Her stomach clenched painfully. That should have been Telemachus. It was supposed to be him teaching their son how to fight, carrying him on his shoulders, letting him tumble into his arms with unshaken trust. Adonis was Telemachus’ child. His son. His blood.

But instead, it was Raphael. Him. The man who stole everything from her, from Telemachus, from the life they should have had together. Her vision blurred, her breath shallow. It felt like she was watching a lie play out before her, one so convincing that even Adonis had fallen for it. The boy’s wide blue eyes—so much like Telemachus’—looked up at Raphael with something close to admiration.

She turned sharply, her chiton sweeping behind her as she retreated into the palace. Each step she took felt heavier, like wading through thick, choking mud. By the time she reached her chambers, her chest ached, her hands shaking as she pressed them against the cool surface of the vanity. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the bile rising in her throat.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

She had spent so long resisting, fighting back against the false world Raphael built around her, yet somehow, it was still creeping in—warping everything, stealing everything. A small creak broke through her thoughts.

“Mama?”

She turned, her pulse still erratic, and found Phebie standing in the doorway. Her tiny fingers were curled into the fabric of her chiton, her dark curls slightly tangled from sleep. She blinked up at her mother with wide, expectant eyes, oblivious to the storm raging inside her mother.

“Will you play with me?”

She barely heard her. The lingering image of Raphael and Adonis still burned behind her eyes, fueling the roiling mess of anger and grief inside her.

Then, the words came—sharp, unthinking.

“You weren’t supposed to be born.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Phebie froze, her small mouth parting slightly in confusion. She blinked rapidly, as if she had misheard. “Mama?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her heart lurched.

The girl’s lip quivered, and then—

A wail.

A sound so pure, so heartbreakingly innocent, that it shattered whatever anger had been gripping her chest.

What have I done?

Phebie staggered back a step, her hands reaching up to wipe at her tear streaked cheeks, but it did little to stop the sobs wracking her tiny frame. Pandora couldn’t breathe. She had done that. She had caused that pain, carved it into her daughter’s small face with nothing but careless words. Guilt and horror crashed into her all at once, sending her stumbling forward.

“No—no, Phebie, come here,” she said, her voice breaking as she reached out. But Phebie only whimpered, curling in on herself like she wanted to disappear. Her chest squeezed, and she pulled the child into her arms, pressing her close, as if holding her tight enough would erase the damage she had done.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean it.”

But hadn’t she?

Hadn’t some part of her truly thought those words, even for just a moment?

The thought made her sick.

Phebie sobbed against her, her tiny fists bunching into her mother’s chiton as she buried her face in her mother’s chest. She rocked her slowly, her own tears slipping down her cheeks. She hadn’t realized she was crying until the wetness touched the top of Phebie’s head.

“I love you,” Pandora whispered, voice shaking. “I love you, Phebie.” Phebie didn’t respond—only clung to her tighter, her sniffles quieting but not stopping. Shestroked her hair, pressing a soft kiss against her temple, but the weight in her chest only grew heavier.

Because no matter how much she loved her daughter, the truth was undeniable.

She would always look at her and remember him.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress @f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy @0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl @dazedemery @tsmaruchan @xo-cuteplosion-xo @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk @h0ne4bee @minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @yuvany @i-liketoast