#Nothing else feels like something I can do I was never too good at math and ughhedkfkykg shut up

[lombaxfloof]

Gonna kill myself

[puppysuh]

I need another part of nerd!haechan PLEASE my life literally depends on it.

and so the haechan brainrot continues… WHEN WILL THIS TORTURE END i can’t stop thinkinh about himmmmuuhhhhhghhghhgghhhhh ★ part 1

network(s) : @neocity-net

it was honestly just supposed to be a harmless prank. go to his apartment under the guise of a tutoring session, see how much of a gross virgin loser he was and report back to your friends until the rumour of his dick cheese spread around campus faster than a common cold.

ridicule him. gain more popularity for yourself whilst subsequently ruining his already nonexistent reputation. use him as a cheap joke, something to have a laugh at over a couple of iced lattes with the girls.

anything but this.

when your friends ask you how it went, you try to lie through your teeth. “nothing special,” you say, staring at the froth gathered on the top of your drink. “the guy has a boner for math questions and league of legends, not actual sex. totally a waste of time.”

and that’s where the conversation ends, with your friends thinking the two of you didn’t kiss, didn’t even fuck because either he was too chicken or you lost interest quickly.

they couldn’t have been more wrong.

you ended up sleeping at his that night. when you woke up in the morning, dressed in nothing but one of his comic con t-shirts, you felt regret at what you did, or moreover, what you failed to do. whilst you were under the impression that he was a good for nothing loser, haechan had rocked your world the night prior, and you’re less worried about what you’re going to tell your friends, you’re more worried about how you’re going to stop yourself from becoming completely addicted to him.

nerd!haechan is even sexier when he’s just woken up. his hair is a mess, glasses askew as he moves around his kitchen with the same nerdy grace he does everything else, fixing himself a bowl of cereal as if he hadn’t fucked you seven ways to heaven the evening prior.

“you gonna get yourself something to eat? i’ve got cereal— well, i’ve got lucky charms or oatmeal. oatmeal’s a hassle and lucky charms might be too—” you groan, and he stops in his tracks. “what?”

he finally turns to you, and you feel as though you could almost faint. how didn’t you think he was this attractive before? “me and you. last night. you almost killed me. aren’t we gonna talk about it?”

he smiles, and it isn’t a cocky smile, it’s a nervous one, and his eyes are glued to the floor. “we can… and we can also talk about the whole passion project thing too. you never actually wanted to fuck me, did you?”

your heart pangs in your chest. you feel bad, so you walk towards him slowly before placing your hands on his shoulders. “i did. sure, the girls thought it would be funny, but…” your palm slides to his cheek, and you lift his gaze away from the ground. “i thought you were cute. kinda like… a teddy bear.”

“a teddy bear?” you nod. “sorry i didn’t live up to your expectations.”

you laugh quietly, and he smiles again, this time with a little more confidence. “i’m glad you didn’t. and i definitely wouldn’t mind going again.”

“you wouldn’t?”

“not in the slightest.”

suddenly, all idea of breakfast is abandoned, his bowl of lucky charms discarded and replaced with you sitting on his counter, legs spread as he kneels between them with his tongue buried in your cunt. your fingers card through his hair, urging him to tongue fuck you deeper, to rub his thumb on your clit faster.

“you were— fuck— you were a virgin before all of this. where the fuck did you learn to eat so good?”

“mostly porn.” the way he answers you so bluntly has your thighs squeezing around his head, neck tipping back and head pressing against his cabinet. he barely takes another breath before diving right back in, fingers joining his tongue as he teases your g spot with perfect precision. “didn’t know it would actually work.”

and it’s the way he keeps looking up at you, as if to beg for your approval. but you can hardly praise him, instead filling his kitchen with repeated moans as you hump your pussy desperately against his tongue. “gonna cum, don’t stop—”

you can feel his sly grin on your clit before he finally pushes open the dam, juices spilling down his chin as you cum on his tongue shamelessly. all that can be heard is your voice, whines filling the kitchen, along with the wet sounds of him dragging his tongue up and down the length of your pussy, nails digging into your thighs with a grip that could only spell possession.

the worst part is; you could go again. you would let him fuck you again and again, on his fingers, his tongue, his cock, and you would never be satisfied, and this guy was a virgin less than 24 hours ago. when he lifts himself off of his knees to kiss you, there’s nothing you want more than to go again, and when you finally leave his apartment, dressed in yesterdays clothes and hair a mess, you pull out your phone and scroll down to the unsaved contact buried at the bottom of your list.

you : same time tomorrow, freak?

unknown number : same time tomorrow, sweetheart.

a/n : started this blog less than a month ago and all i can talk about is him. can say i wouldn’t change that for the world 🙂‍↕️

[godmadeaterribleerror]

You Can Feel It - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Author's Note: They are in 2026 because I am bad at math. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary/Warnings: Ben has a birthday. Takes place on May 19th, post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, so much horniness, smut (breeding kink, oral, fingering, p in v)

Read on A03!

She was planning something. 

And She was always planning something, but this time, it was different. 

This time, Ben had asked Her not to plan anything, and She was fucking doing it anyway. 

“Ben.” She’d hummed a few months ago, straddling him in bed and holding his face between Her hands. “Your birthday is next month.”

He’d scowled. “How the fuck do you know that-“

“Because you’re my husband, and I love you very much, and,” She’d smiled at him, all Her love infinite and humming in Ben’s body. “You told me.”

“I didn’t fucking tell you so it could be celebrated, Sunshine.” He’d grunted, rubbing small circles on Her thighs, and She’d frowned at him.

“You don’t want us to celebrate your birthday?”

“No. I fucking don’t.”

“Why?” She’d leaned forward, pressing Her brow to Ben’s. “Most people never get to be a hundred and seven, and have a party where they can like, fucking walk around-“

Ben had snorted, and cut Her off with a long, deep kiss. Smartass. You like that I’m fucking old-

I know. She’d mumbled between their heads, Her fingers curling against Ben’s chest. But I think my point still stands-

I am not having a fucking birthday party.

Why? She’d pulled back, Her face wide and open and so fucking beautiful, and Ben had sighed.

Because I’m not some fucking pussy child who needs cake to know I aged a year.

What if I need cake to know you’ve aged a year? She’d raised Her brows. Can we do it then?

No.

But you did cake for Ryan’s birthday-

Ryan’s a literal fucking child. And he’d needed it. Ben had frowned at the air. Kid kept goddamn apologizing for being born. 

She’d sighed, and leaned fully forward to bury Her face in Ben’s chest. I know. And you were so good to him, Ben, but maybe I, She’d grinded down on him, and Ben had grunted as his cock twitched in his sweats. Fucking Christ, She was too perfect. It was going to goddamn kill him. Want to be good to you.

You are good to me, Sunshine. Ben had thrusted up in a pretty fucking genius move of retaliation, and She’d whined as he squeezed Her ass. You’re fucking perfect, and I goddamn love you, and that’s it. I don’t fucking need anything else-

What if I want to give you other things?

Then you can let me fuck you stupid, darling.

She’d mumbled something that sounded like fucking cunt, and Ben had laughed, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of Her head.

“Fucking brat.” He’d murmur in Her ear, and She’d let out a long breath, leaning back with a soft smile.

“I’m not going to push it,” She’d whispered. “But can you please tell me why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday? I- I know it’s painful, Ben.” Her hand had glided up to rest of his chest, and he’d tensed. “I can feel it here. Please.”

He’d taken a heavy, slow breath, and there was nothing in the fucking world he wouldn’t give Her or do in Her name. It was why after this, he had to get up and let the damn cat out, and later he’d be picking their son up from school, and then he’d make Her a good fucking dinner and fuck Her until she was a writhing, happy mess below him.

Bu that also meant he had to give Her the damn truth.

And Ben didn’t lie to his wife anyway. 

But he’d really been hoping to not talk about this one. 

“Last year.” He’d muttered, holding Her sharp, pretty gaze as he spoke, and running a hand under Her shirt—his shirt, looking fucking perfect on Her body—to hold Her by the waist. “My birthday was fucking shit. And I don’t want to celebrate it again.”

“Last-“ Her eyes had widened slightly, and Ben had felt Her still. Almost felt Her own cold, deep fear creep into his own blood, Her heartbeat picking up in his ears. “Oh.”

He’d nodded, pulling Her a little tighter into his chest. “Spent the whole fucking day missing you, and wishing you were home. Didn’t feel like there was fucking shit to celebrate without you, and I’m too damn old for birthdays. Won’t be enough candles in the fucking world.”

“I could find them.” She’d mumbled. “Or just be the candle myself. And I’m here now, Ben.”

“I know you are, Sunshine.” He’d sighed, pressing kiss to the top of Her head. “And that’s all I fucking need. No party.”

She’d hummed, and they’d stayed just like for a while longer before the day had started. Ben had even gotten to haul Her up on the dresser, and fucked Her until he was marking Her legs and abdomen with his release, and Her eyes were glazed with something other than pain. 

He’d hoped She’d forget. Or just let it the fuck go.

He should have known better.

Because Ben knew She was planning something. Whenever he asked what the fuck are you up to, Sunshine, She’d just smile at him and shrug. 

Which meant She couldn’t answer. Because whatever She said would be a goddamn lie. 

So She was fucking planning something.

Ben cornered Annie at a team meeting night—Hughie would have been easier, but the pussy had stayed home with their stupid damn baby, so Ben was stuck with Annie—and tried for just one fucking answer.

It didn’t work. 

“I’m not saying anything, Ben.” Annie didn’t even look up from her cooking, when he approached. “So don’t bother trying.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “So there is fucking something.”

Annie just shrugged, and didn’t say another goddamn word.

Butcher wasn’t any better.

“Didn’t even know you had a birthday, Gov.” He drawled, and Ben scowled.

“I wasn’t made in a fucking lab, you asscuck-“

“Shit, that’s right, ain’t it.” Butcher grinned at him, spinning around in his chair. “Nothin’ but pure natural genetics in your pretty face, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart-“

“Shame, though. I’d shoot my shot with ya, Mate, if your lady wouldn’t fuckin’ burn my eyeballs out.” Butcher whistled, and just kept goddamn spinning. “America’s first cunt family-“

“Butcher.” Frenchie had wheeled into view from the backroom, where all the drugs Ben wasn’t allowed to touch were kept. “I will not save you if he shoots you. I will laugh.”

“Not my fault the cunt’s so bloody fun to push.” Butcher had rolled his eyes, and started wheeling to the room, taking a million goddamn years. “How’s the new gun comin’?”

Ben had fucking known wheelie chairs would be a horrible fucking idea. But nobody goddamn listened to him but Her. 

Maybe not Her.

He was going out of his fucking mind about it. She wouldn’t just ignore him like that, but She was also fucking hiding something. And She didn’t have a golden fucking record on the things She hid from Ben. The last thing She’d hidden was that she’d been taking fucking drugs that made Her think he didn’t love Her. Bad shit happened when She goddamn hid things from him.

And it was good that they were all so fucking loyal to Her. Nobody deserved it more than She did, and nobody had earned it more either. 

But nobody would fucking tell Ben shit. Kimiko just ignored him. Hughie got all fucking red-faced and ran away like a goddamn coward, and MM just muttered trust your wife, man.

Ben did fucking trust Her. 

Just not Her brilliant, stupid fucking plans. 

“Ryan.” He grunted in the kitchen, and Ryan looked up with the same open, wide-eyed look that crossed Her face so often. 

The kid had been picking up a lot of Her habits. He was even tapping his pencil on the papers as he waited for Ben to continue.

She was such a good fucking mother. And if Ben had any damn say in it, Ryan would have a sibling by the end of the year. They fucked too often for it not to happen.

Not the fucking point right now. Picturing Her with a soft smile and baby in Her arms, talking to Ryan about some smart shit while Ben took care of everything else wasn’t going to help him figure out what the fuck She was planning.

“My birthday is next weekend.” Ben watched Ryan carefully as he spoke. “You know anything about that shit?”

Ryan frowned at him. “About your birthday?”

Ben gave a short nod, and Ryan shrugged.

“I know that it’s next week. May 19th. And you’re going to be a hundred and seven, which means you were born in 1919. Huh, there’s a lot of  nineteens in your birthday-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, and—just fucking like Her—the kid’s mouth snapped shut. “I know when my own damn birthday is. What the fucking is happening.”

“You’re getting older?”

Christ on a fucking cross, She’d trained the kid well. “Well, what the fuck is happening on the day.”

“Um, it’s a Tuesday, so I think I have a math test-“

Ben grunted Her name, bracing his arms on the counter and leaning forward. “What the fuck is she planning?”

Ryan swallowed, his heartbeat picking up slightly. Not enough for fear. 

The exact, frantic pace of a fucking lie.

“I- I think she told me she’s got a meeting about some new lawsuits against Vought-“

“For my birthday. I know she’s up to something, Ryan. Tell me.”

Ryan blinked at him, his mouth opening slowly, and Ben fucking had it-

“Don’t answer that, Ryan.” She fucking materialized in the kitchen, and Ben scowled. 

You were supposed to be in the fucking bathroom, Sunshine-

I finished. She moved to Ryan’s side, glaring at Ben over his head. “Stop bullying my son, Benjamin.”

Ben managed to roll his eyes, although She could probably feel the warmth building in his chest from how Ryan sat a little taller at Her words.

Her son. 

God fucking dammit. 

“I’m not bullying him-“

“Yes, you were.”

Ryan looked up at Her with wide, nervous eyes. “He- he wasn’t-“

“I know, Ry.” She gave him a soft smile, and Ben couldn’t even hold his scowl. “I’m giving him shit because he’s a cunt.”

Brat.

Shut up. “You want to go get ready for bed?”

Ryan nodded, shuffling away with an almost worried look in Ben’s direction, and he gave a small nod in return. He was a grown fucking man. He’d be fine.

She was just as fucking terrifying as She was beautiful, when Her glare turned back in his direction, but Ben would be fine. 

She loved him.

She still looked fucking pissed.

“Hi, Sunshine-“

“Don’t hi, Sunshine, me, you old fuckhat.”

Shit.

“Don’t, push him like that, Ben-“

“I wasn’t fucking pushing him-“

“Yes, you were. And I- He worships the fucking ground you walk on Ben, and he would have told you-“

“Why don’t you want him to tell me?” Ben snapped, forcing his voice to stay firm, but even. He wouldn’t yell at Her. Ever. Even when She was being an infuriating, perfect pain in his ass. “No secrets, Sunshine-“

“It’s not a secret-“

“You just won’t fucking tell me-“

“Because I- I’m saving it, Ben-“

“For my birthday.” His jaw clenched, his words pushed through his teeth. “I told you I didn’t want to fucking celebrate it-“

“I- I know-“ She shook Her head, Her voice growing soft. “I do, I promise, and I’m going to listen to you. No party, no big deal, there’s just something else and I can’t tell you yet, but I want to, and I- I love you, I’m sorry.”

She’d fucking apologized. And pressed herself back against the counter.

Away from Ben. 

Fucking- That wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. Ever. Ben couldn’t even goddamn really remember why he’d been that made, he just wanted Her to come back and stop looking so fucking sad. It was making him feel heavy and a little choked, his fists clenching to grab for Her, pull Her into his chest and make Her feel better, do whatever he had to for Her to smile again, and stop moving away from him.

Ben muttered Her name, taking a careful step forward, relief crashing through his chest like a goddamn wave when She didn’t flinch away. It was just one fucking fight. Couples fought. 

And he’d fix it. For Her, he’d fucking apologize on his goddamn knees like some pussy.

Ben could fix it.

“I- I’m sorry-“

“Don’t.” He grunted, taking another step, and She leaned into him immediately. Pressing Her face into Ben’s chest and wrapping Her arms around his torso, clinging to him even though he was the fucking shitfuck asshole who made the most perfect woman in the world cry. There was a weak sound that left Her throat, ripping through Ben’s body and strangling his chest, but he kept himself upright and held Her against his body. 

He kept Her there for a few minutes until Her heart and breathing were steady, then tugged lightly on Her hair until her head tipped back, Her eyes glossy as they met his. 

Listen. He let out a slow breath, dropping his brow to Her’s. I fucking love you-

I- I know, Ben, but-

No. I love you, and I trust you, and I was wrong. Shouldn’t have pushed Ryan, when I trust you. I just- He took another heavy breath, and shook his head against Her’s. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, that was the worst goddamn month of my life. Spent the whole fucking day just missing you and thinking about how I couldn’t help you. 

You did help me-

Didn’t fucking feel like it in the moment. Ben grunted between their heads, his grip on Her tightening slightly. And I’m a hundred and fucking seven. Goddamn stupid to celebrate that. 

She hummed, offering him a small smile. I don’t think it’s stupid. 

Of course you don’t. He chuckled, moving to press a kiss to Her brow. I’m sorry, Sunshine. Fucking love you. Won’t do that to Ryan again, either-

She let out a soft giggle, shaking Her head. I think Ryan’s more worried about you.

Then I’ll fucking apologize for that. Ben frowned into the air. Kid shouldn’t have to take on our shit too.

She nodded, pressing Her head back into Ben’s chest with a soft hum. Thank you, my love.

Ben scowled. I made you fucking cry-

And you apologized. And I’m still pissed at you. She leaned back, Her eyes sharp on Ben’s, and he couldn’t stop his grin. But I feel better. And if you really want to know now-

No. Ben cut Her off between their heads with a long, deep kiss. Trust you. Fucking meant it. And that was a stupid fucking thing to fight about. 

We’ve fought about stupider. She smiled against his lips. And I won, for the record.

Ben just laughed, drawing back to grin at Her. I think I fucking won, darling. Because the best part of fighting is now that it’s done, I get to fuck you stupid.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as a slightly flush covered Her perfect features. We were going to fuck anyway, you horny old cunt-

Don’t fucking care. Ben hauled Her fully into his arms, kissing Her neck and marching for the stairs. Still so fucking perfect, Sunshine. Going to make you feel so fucking good, show you how fucking sorry I am until you’re cumming all over my goddamn cock-

God fucking- She moaned, dropping Her face into his neck. Ben-

I know, darling. You want to feel good? Want me to fuck you full of me, fuck you pregnant- 

Ben, please-

Never going to make you fucking cry again. His words were more for himself. 

She still needed to hear them. 

Fucking swear it, Ben grunted Her name, leaning back to meet Her gaze. You’re fucking perfect, and I trust you with my goddamn life-

I know, Benjamin, my love. She gave him a soft smile, and nothing his Ben’s body hurt at all. You think you can fuck me pregnant?

His cock twitched in his pants. She knew exactly what the fuck She was doing, looking so fucking smug and beautiful and smart in Ben’s arms. 

All goddamn his.

Such a fucking brat, he muttered between their heads, biting slightly on Her neck and smirking at Her squeak. Are you fucking doubting me, darling?

No-

Sounds like you’re fucking doubting me. Like you think I’m not going to fuck you until you can’t goddamn walk.

She whined, Her nails pressing against his neck. Ben, please-

Going to take good care of you. He muttered, leaving an open mouth kiss over Her throat. Fucking love you, Sunshine. You’re my goddamn world-

I know. She smiled against his skin, and for a second, Ben could feel it.

All Her love, burning and vast and unending, all for him, alive in his chest. 

She knew. Ben had dedicated his whole fucking life to Her and Ryan, so She knew.

And he did apologize to Ryan later. Mostly because the kid deserved it—and She’d been right, because She always was right, and Ryan had been more worried about Ben than himself—but a little to show Her. He could be a good father. He could take accountability and apologize to his kids, like a real goddamn man. Apologize and mean it. Never fucking do it again, and keep proving that he was trying. 

He was always fucking trying. 

But She still wasn’t pregnant. And She’d said She wanted this, but it wasn’t happening. And if She didn’t, Frenchie said Her body would stop it.

They didn’t lie to each other. They never fucking lied to each other, and Ben trusted Her, but fucking Christ he couldn’t stop the tension over his shoulders about it. That She didn’t want this, and She was just doing it for him. She should never have to do shit for anyone, let alone Ben. He was supposed to do shit for Her. That was the whole goddamn point, was that She fixed everything for everyone and then came back to Ben. And he’d love Her and worship her however She fucking needed. 

Ben trusted Her. He wasn’t going to push it. 

But he was still goddamn worried. 

And the week passed, and half of him forgot about the stupid birthday. He cared more about Her anyway. About climbing over Her in bed and kissing Her until she sighed his name into his mouth. And Ben had other shit to do, as well. Ryan needed help with homework, and Her goddamn cat kept sitting on Ben’s paperwork, and no matter how much he grunted that Maeve needed to fucking move, nothing worked. He picked the thing up and set it on the floor, and it just jumped into his goddamn lap.

She adored this stupid thing. Ryan did too. And Ben didn’t… hate it. Anymore.

Still occupied him, though. Having to explain to Butcher why goddamn cat hair was all over the files. And it didn’t help that he’d been feeling strange all week. Not sick—Ben didn’t fucking get sick—but strange.

So he forgot.

And then he woke up, and it was his stupid goddamn birthday.

Nothing was fucking happening. Ben had gotten confirmation She’d been planning something, but he couldn’t goddamn figure out what. The day was identical to every other fucking Tuesday. Ben rolled Her onto her stomach and fucked Her until she was cumming all over his cock and the room was dancing with warm lights and mist, then fucked Her in shower with her pretty tits in his hands and his mouth attached to Her neck. 

He made sure Ryan was good for school, drove Her to work—fingering Her in the car, the air waving from heat as She grabbed his arm and orgasmed with a moan—and went in for a few hours to pretend to work. 

There were no jobs to do, so they mostly just sat around and did jack fucking shit. Frenchie and Kimiko were watching something called a drag race that had nothing to do with cars, and Butcher was spinning in his stupid fucking chair while Ben tried to get Her attention. 

Sunshine-

I’m working, Ben.

You could be fucking talk to me instead.

Or I could finish this meeting and come home early. 

Just come home right fucking now, and we can watch that stupid fucking Zombie show-

That stupid Zombie show made you cry, Pretty Boy.

No, it fucking didn’t. Ben scowled at the air. It was just a sad fucking story, and I’m not a fucking heartless dickass-

I know. Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. I’d live with you in a bunker until we both died, Benjamin.

Good. But I’d kill all the stupid pussy zombies.

Of course you would, my love.

Shut up. Ben paused, then added. Let’s go home.

Nope. Need to work.

But it’s my fucking birthday.

I thought you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday-

I want my fucking wife, Sunshine, is that goddamn crime. You didn’t even wish me happy birthday-

Happy birthday, Benjamin, my love, you dramatic fucking cunt.

Ben didn’t bother to hide his grin. Brat.

You love it. I’ll be home in three hours.

She turned back into only a presence—happy and calm—over Ben’s head, and he could do three hours. 

Three hours had fucking nothing on him. Ben would fucking destroy three hours. 

Before he left for the day, though, he couldn’t manage to escape gifts. At least they weren’t total fucking shit. Kimiko and Frenchie got him some weed—thank fucking Christ—and Butcher got him a Hawaiian shirt because he was a fucking dickhead. 

“You’ll look better in it anyway,” She hummed when Ben showed Her, his arm thrown around Her shoulders to keep her pressed against him.

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was Her fucking there. And the moment he’d felt Her getting close—Annie dropping Her off with only a smile and nod at Ben—he’d felt an iron weight over his chest lift.

He hadn’t even registered it until She was there. And it wasn’t there most days, because She could take care of her fucking self. 

But Ben had just kept thinking about their old, empty apartment, and Her blank expression on the TV. 

He just fucking wanted Her here. In comparison, other gifts were all fucking dogshit. Ben liked them just fine—a future surprise gift from Annie, Phillies tickets from Hughie, and a card that just said fucking congrats from MM, along with more weed—but none of them were fucking Her.

Her and Ryan were really all that Ben goddamn wanted. Needed. Could ever fucking need. 

And that made this birthday, in the end, better than any of the fucking others. Ben had gotten parties before, and they’d been big fucking shitshows. Full of drinks with some of the most annoying fucking pussies on the planet, a million compliments and gifts from people he didn’t care about, and sex with faceless women.

There were no drinks tonight, but Ryan had made Ben burgers, and beamed with an unmistakable pride when Ben called them good fucking food. She’d gotten him a malt vanilla ice cream cake, and stuck seven candles in it with a teasing smile and kiss over his beard.

Ben wasn’t fucking having that. He tangled a hand in Her hair and turned to capture Her into a full, long, open-mouthed kiss, going and going until She was leaning over him and gasping softly into his mouth. 

Happy seventh birthday, Ben. She mumbled when he pulled back, and he chuckled and nipped on Her lower lip.

Smartass. 

She just hummed and wrapped Her arms around Ben’s neck as he turned back to Ryan, and asked him about school. 

There were no empty compliment or gifts, either. Ryan got Ben a shit looking mug that the kid had made in his art class, and Ben was never going to use another fucking mug again. 

“It, um,” Ryan had cleared his throat, pointing to odd painting job. “It says number one dad. I think. I tried to make it say number one dad, but painting is hard, and I-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, holding the kid’s nervous gaze. “It’s good. Don’t lose your damn mind.”

Ryan nodded, shifting like he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, and Ben rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug. 

“You did well, kid.” He muttered, low enough for only Ryan to hear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan whispered. “I- Thank you for- You know-“

Ben squeezed Ryan. “I do.”

She was smiling at Ben when he pulled away.

And that was the best goddamn part. 

Ben got to pull Her into another kiss, feel Her melt into his body, and know that She was here. With him. Safe and fucking happy. 

So Ben wouldn’t be having sex with any faceless women on his birthday. 

It would just be Her, for the rest of his fucking life. 

——————

It’s a miracle Ben hasn’t noticed. That he hasn’t walked you backwards against a wall or pinned you down in bed with a frown, kissing you until you were dizzy then demanding to know what was wrong.

And nothing is wrong.

It isn’t. 

Everything is good. Ben is good, Ryan is good, and you’re really good. 

There’s something eating at your gut, and you feel a little light-headed and wired, but it will be better soon. You’ll tell Ben, and the tension will leave your head and slow in your hands, and everything will be good. 

It will be.

You have a plan. 

Ryan goes to Butcher’s, after you finish dinner. Ben scowls at the sight of the man on your doorstep, but before their usual grunting, puffed chest stand-off can start, you place your hand on Ben’s arm and give him a soft smile.

Stand down, Pretty Boy. I asked him to take Ryan for the night.

He frowns at you. Why the fuck would you do that.

I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep quiet.

That’s all you have to say. 

Ben lets Butcher take Ryan—although not before giving him a tight hug and muttering that he’ll to pick him up in the morning—and Butcher doesn’t in a single have fun rimmin’ each other before the door is slammed in his face and Ben’s attention turns to you.

And you can feel his hunger all the time. You’d planned on making some sort of joke about how for a man on his age, Ben’s sex drive only seems to be building, but it’s hard to remember the details of it now. Because Ben’s on you in half a second, sweeping you up into his arms with a smirk, and you’re gone. 

It’s more consuming than a tidal wave, the sheer fucking starvation in Ben’s body. For you. It’s all aimed into your body, and it’s lined with love—it always is—but it’s still fucking hunger.

“You’ve got something for me,” he drawls, already walking you up the stairs. “Don’t you, Sunshine.”

“Maybe.” You mumble, letting your fingers glide up to play with the hair of his beard. “It is your birthday. And you did get very dramatic about your surprise.”

Ben just grunts, and the sore, prickling feeling grows hot over your skin. It’s part of why you weren’t that mad about him about the fight. You could feel how it was going to hurt him more than you, feel how it had been tight in his lungs and known that he wouldn’t do it again.

Ben, the huge, handsome dumbass, has one of the lowest emotional pain tolerances you’ve ever seen. You’ve felt how he holds you tighter during sad parts of movies, as if he’s worried the tragedy on the screen is going to jump out and take you as well.  

So there was no doubt in your mind, that Ben would shoot himself before he repeated that fight. And you had been a little dramatic about it as well, but it was Ryan. He hadn’t even really known what was going on, only that you had to tell Ben something, and it was better for everyone if he stayed at Butcher’s after Ben’s birthday dinner. And Ryan would’ve beat himself up for betraying your trust, then Ben would’ve gotten pissed at himself about making Ryan upset, so it was easier to cut out the middleman and just take the bullet yourself.

He’s more than made up for it. There were flowers on your dresser when you got home the next night, he brought you ice cream at work the day after that, and he’s been letting you chose what to watch every single evening since. 

And you hadn’t wanted to keep things from him. You fucking hated hiding anything at all from Ben. There have been so many moments over the past few weeks where you’ve wanted to grab his face between your hands and tell him, but this was a perfect gift. And he wouldn’t be pissed when he found out. Hopefully it would drown and wash away all that hot shame, and you’d really be proven right.

You just had to tell him first.

“I did get you something.” You hum, leaning back to give him a wide, unrestrained smile. “That’s the surprise.”

Ben snorts. “Fucking worked that one out, Sunshine. You going to actually damn tell me, or do I have to fuck it out of you.”

It’s hard to fight down the breathiness of your voice, and you don’t really try to anyway. 

Ben can hear your heartbeat anyway.

“I’ll tell you no matter what.” You press your face in his neck, mumbling against his skin. “But I- Fucking would be nice.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating through your whole body. “You giving me birthday sex, darling? You going to let me do whatever the fuck I want to your perfect fucking pussy? Let me play with it until you’re just whining like a goddamn brat?”

He might be trying to get you to burst into flames.

It’s going to work. 

“I always let you do what you want.” Your protest is weak, and Ben’s hunger only flares.

“Goddamn right you do.” His lips brush over the shell of your ear, and something slams behind you. “You how why, beautiful?”

You shake your head, and Ben’s chuckle is low and dark, moving right between your thighs.

“I think you do know.” He drawls, and suddenly you’re on the bed, Ben towering over you and brushing hair away from your face. 

There’s a softness to his touch that you can feel in his chest. Molten and glowing over his ribs as he watches you, gentle in a way his deep voice isn’t.

But it’s still all Ben. And his thumb brushed over your lip and presses slightly, you can’t do anything but part for him without thought.

A low, rumbling sound leaves Ben’s chest, and the hunger is turning to starvation. As if you’ve been separated for years, rather than barely at all through the whole day. But to be fair, Ben always touches you like he thinks he’s never going to see you again. And you always grind against the sheets like it’s the first time he’s ever even spared you a glance. 

And when Ben presses his thumb into your mouth, you let your tongue flick against it and suck slightly. Going and going until you’re a little dizzy with need, and all you can see if Ben looking down at you with a smirk. 

“There you go.” He mutters, pulling his thumb away with a slight pop. “Good girl. You going to use some smart words, and answer my question?”

You blink at him, still a little lost in the haze of lust. “What question?”

Ben’s grin grows, and before you know what’s happening he’s tossing you back on the mattress and prowling over you, his shirt already tossed into a corner of the room. 

It’s good you didn’t wear your fireproof clothing today.

All it takes is one firm, consuming kiss into the mattress, Ben’s hand trailing up your thighs to rest between your legs, and you’re burning.

“So fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters, watching you grind shameless down onto his palm, your mouth hanging open and hands scratching hopelessly at his chest. “Still need to fucking hear it, darling. Why do I get to play with this pussy,” he slaps your cunt once, and your back arches off the mattress with a small gasp. “As much as I want?”

You just blink at him, words a little far away as the feeling of Ben—big and warm and strong above you—makes you feel high, and he chuckles.

“You need some help, Sunshine?”

You nod a little stupidly, and Ben crashes down, all but eating you alive with his teeth scraping your lips and tongue down your throat before muttering against your mouth.

“Because I take good fucking care of you. Because you’re my wife, and I fucking love you and fuck you so good you only know one word, don’t you.” 

You moan as one finger slides into you, and Ben fucking shining with pride in his chest.

He’s earned it. 

Because when he hums, “What the word, beautiful?” You scream the only thing that’s in your head.

Ben, Ben- Fuck- Ben-

“Good girl.” He grins as his fingers pull out and you whine, only laughing when he pinches and rolls your clit and you let out a weak noise of desperation. 

Ben-

“You know what I want for my birthday,” Ben drawls your name, wrapping his arm slowly around your waist. “More than fucking anything?”

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide eyes, and his grin somehow grows.

“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I want,” Ben leans down, holding your gaze, and your fingers shoot up to hold his face on instinct. “For my beautiful fucking wife to sit on my goddamn face.”

“I- Ben-“ You shake your head, even as you start to roll your hips against him once more. “I could suffocate you-“

He snorts. “You can get a better excuse than that fucking bullshit, Sunshine.”

“I- I can’t. But, Ben-“

“Don’t ask if I’m sure.” He grunts, the hunger suddenly wrapped entirely with stone-like, powerful care. “Do you want to-“

“Yes.” You whisper, and the hunger rushes back with almost twice the straight. 

“Good.” He mutters, and before you down what’s happening, Ben’s rolling you over and pulling you upright on his chest, setting into the pillows with a cocky smirk. “Come here.”

“I am here.” You shift slightly, tracing your fingers over the muscles of his chest, and he gives you a slightly tug by your hips.

“I want you here.” He raised his brows, and the fire might have gone out, but there’s a dizzying rush of light already dancing around the room at the sheer desire in Ben’s body and gaze.

He’s going to eat you alive. 

And your knees already feel weak from it. You’re not sure you remember how to move.

“Ben,” you lean forward, letting your nose bump slightly with his. “Do you want your birthday present now, or-“

“This is my birthday present.”

You can’t stop your smile, because there’s almost a pout on his face, and he’s the strongest man in the world, but right now he’s all but grumbling and pout at you, and the idea that you could possibly ever be worried about sitting on his face. 

“Benjamin.”

He grunts, squeezing the skin of your hips as a hand trails up your side, and your smile widens. 

“If this is your present, I guess you don’t want the sex doll I got you.”

“I have my sex doll right fucking here,” he squeezes your waist, nipping at your lower lip. “And she’s goddamn perfect.”

“Gross and sweet. What if I tape my face to this one?” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and come here.”

“What about the surprise? Is this replacing that- Shit-“ You squeak as he starts to drag you up his chest, until you’re almost straddling his neck.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He rubs firm circles on your thighs, and you smile down at him, your finger drifting into his hair as you hold his gaze.

“Hi, Ben. I- Um-“ You swallow, grinding slightly against him as his hunger feeds your own need. 

Handsome and strong and grinning up at you, and you do want to do this, but-

“How does this work?” You ask, and Ben face turns into something feral, his voice somehow dropping deeper.

“Have you never fucking sat on a face before, darling?” Ben’s grip tightens when you nod, and you almost fall over from the sheer power of his hunger. It’s throbbing between your legs and warm in your core, but then Ben kneads at your thighs, and little electronic shocks wrap over your skin until you’re all but putty in his hands. 

He knows it. There’s a blooming, shining pride through his whole chest, and the asshole is smug as he lets your grind down on his body, his voice a loving, teasing hum as he says your name.

“You want me to take care of you? Need me to show you how to ride my fucking face, let me fuck you like you deserve while you just sit here and look beautiful like a good girl?”

You nod, your hand trailing down your stomach to find your clit, and Ben fucking growls as he swats your fingers away.

“I do that.” He grunts, running his hands up to hold your hips, turning his head to kiss on your knee. “Hold on.”

He doesn’t give you time to react to his order before you’re being pulled forward and Ben slams you down onto his face. 

You almost scream at the first movement. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt as he rolls your hips against him. Big hands drag and down up your body, holding you over him, and when he angles his face to bite at your clit, your fingers fly to yank at his hair. 

Ben’s chuckle vibrates against your pussy, and the moan that escapes you is loud and shameless and almost pathetic. You can’t find it in your to care, though. Because then Ben’s tongue starts to plunge in and out of your cunt, and the high whine of Ben that leaves you is desperate and needy and only spurs him on.

You like it, darling? Ben picks up his pace, shifting you above him just enough to let his tongue flick at your clit until you’re in almost a frenzy—pulling at his hair and burning a handprint into the headboard—before returning to your pussy. Taste like fucking heaven, doing so fucking good for me, screaming my name-

You let out a high sound that was maybe supposed to be Ben, and he only laughs again.

Good girl.

You let out another loud moan, Ben somehow doubles his efforts, and you’ve been wrecked before.

But this is bigger.

This is destroyed.

Ben’s beard tickles and rubs your thighs in the best way possible, and his nose keeps bumping on your clit, and you’re lost to any world that isn’t Ben. His tongue fucking and licking and twisting deep into your cunt, one hand reaching up to palm and flick at your breasts, the other squeezing your ass, low grunts and growls rumbling through him whenever your thighs clench around him or you squirm above him.

You let out a loud, lewd moan as Ben’s tongue presses flat against your clit as broad fingers pinch and roll your nipple, and Ben laughs against your cunt.

Think you can cum on my fucking face, Sunshine? He moves back to pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy, and you lose all sense of control. Grinding down shameless and making loud, pleading sounds of his name, arching your back and bracing a hand on Ben’s thigh. 

You can feel his cock, hard and standing at attention, bumping on your forearm as the coil in your gut starts to become almost painful.

And when you grope blindly to grab it, your fingers brush the base of his shaft and Ben groans your name right into your cunt.

You want to touch him. But his grip is like iron above you, keeping you pinned against his face as he pulls you apart, and he’s stronger than you are. 

But you can feel that strength in him. Radiant and atomic and deep in his body, calling for you to borrow just a little bit. 

You try not to use the mimicry. It too powerful, feels a little like an invasion, and you don’t fight anymore, so there’s really no point. 

But when you whine Ben, he only squeezes you by your hips and sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s fucking impossible and everything in the world, and you’re going to go insane if he doesn’t let you touch him.

So you grab that little bit of his strength, let it flow so naturally into your own body, and move before Ben can figure out what’s happening. Pushing away from him with a high whine, twisting around so your clit is brushing perfectly against his beard, and leaning down to take him into your mouth.

Fucking- Christ on a cross. Ben’s grip tightens, his growl open-mouthed against you cunt, and you moan around his dick without shame. You’re fucking- so fucking perfect, Sunshine, fucking- 

You take him until he bumps against the back of your throat, your hands playing with his balls as you squeeze his inner thigh, and the hunger in Ben’s body feels feral.

He’s squeezing your ass and groaning your name as you choke and swallow around him, and every sound he pulls from your throat makes him twitch in your hands, until you’re no sure if you’re dangling over the edge, or he is. 

Fuck you’re perfect, sucking my cock like a good girl, making all those goddamn pretty sounds for me. Ben groans as another one of those sounds leaves you, his dick twitching in the back of your throat. Need you to fucking cum for me, beautiful, soak my fucking face and scream my name-

Ben’s tongue to flick over your clit, working you right up until you’re writhing above him and moaning around him, and he bites you. Right on your clit before pressing a mockingly soft kiss, and you fly over the edge. 

You might be screaming his name. You’re not sure. Ben won’t stop eating your cunt, even as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you right off his cock. You whine, squirming against him, but all it gets you is flat on your back with Ben still buried between your thighs. Your thighs are squeezing him so tight you’re a little worried you’re going to burst his skull, but all you’re getting from him is love and reverence and pleasure. Ben just keeps devouring you as smaller, softer and melting orgasms roll through your body, and you’re weakly tugging at his hair as stars begin to line your vision. 

Ben. You moan as he pushes his tongue back into your cunt, your hips jerking off the mattress. Ben, please, fuck me-

He groans, a finger sneaking up to rub over your pussy lips, teasing your entrance as he moves to lips to sucking your clit. You need me to fill you up, Sunshine? Want to squeeze this fucking cock in your perfect pussy?

You nod, a high whine leaving you as Ben hums against you.

Say please-

Please. You let out a breathless noise, dignity long gone as you writhe below him. Benjamin, please, please fuck me, I need it so bad-

Fucking Christ. He laughs, pressing a sloppy kiss over your spasming pussy, rising back up to grin down at you with an unmistakable devotion. That fucking desperate for me, Sunshine? Begging like a perfect fucking brat for me-

Yes. You force your arms up to wrap around his neck. Yours, Ben, all yours, just- please. You press a kiss to his beard as he pulls you into his lap, your body burning and boneless against him. Need you, Ben. 

His face flashes with a love that’s mirrored in his body, a hand tracing over the line of your cheekbones. You need me?

You nod, and there’s enough strength of Ben’s left in your body for you to grind against him and dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving a rare mark on his body that makes him hiss in your ear.

“Need you to do that more.” He grunts, his cock jumping against your ass. “Fucking- Wish I could mark you. Show everyone who fucks you so damn pretty and dumb,” he pulls you up slightly, groaning your name into your ear as he guides you down onto his cock. “Think everyone will know when my goddamn cum is dripping out of your perfect cunt?”

You moan and clench around him, throwing your head back in a numbing bliss, and Ben grabs the opportunity. His lips latch onto that spot on your neck, and he starts to fuck up into you with a brutal, skip slapping pace. 

And you lose track of how many orgasms you have. You just know it feels good. Like you’re being washed in a glowing light every second, Ben’s cock bumping against that already aching and needy spot inside of you and his low, growled praise in your head or ear only turning you into a whining mess against his body. But big hands are rubbing over your back and keeping you bouncing onto him, and you can’t think anything but Ben. 

You squeeze around him and scratch over his back, and Ben grunts your name between your head. Good girl, Sunshine, taking my cock so fucking well, going to- Fuck, I’m going to fuck your full of me until everyone can goddamn smell it-

You lean forward and nod against Ben’s shoulder, grinding down when he bruises impossible deep inside of you, and the last orgasm might just be Ben’s, rolling through you as he cums with a roar of your name. Slamming home and capturing your mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, rutting against you until he’s dripping down your thighs and the high is only lingering in your bodies. 

There’s a long while before either of you bother to move. Ben keeps you firmly down on his cock with hands on your waist, muttering low praise and kissing over your collarbone as you sit in his warmth, and drift back down. But eventually, he presses a firm kiss to the top your head before rolling over and pulling out, slapping his cock against your aching pussy once, and pulling you into another deep, long kiss when a moan escapes your throat.

Stay here. His thumb traces over your cheekbone as he pulls away, and you shake your head, grabbing his wrist. “Sunshine-“

“I- I need to give you your present.” You whisper, and the love in Ben’s chest flares like a fucking bomb, even as he frowns.

“Have to clean you up-“

“Ben.” You squeeze him, tugging him pointlessly back down. The strength is gone. You just need him here. “Please.”

He sighs, but nods, and falls right back over you, pinning you between his warmth and the bed.

Your hands shoot into his hair, your face burying in the crook of his neck, and an easy, gentle calm washes over your body as your breath in pine and vanilla and Ben.

You can do this. 

“Are you ready for the surprise?”

Ben grunts, shifting you slightly so your legs tangled together and his arm can snake around your waist, and it’s helping. The feeling of him everywhere, the way he’s already holding you like you’re the most important thing into the world.

The words are almost easy to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ben stills completely around you. And you couldn’t feel his love all but roaring through his body, you’d be worried.

But Ben’s a part of you. And every bit of furious, wrathful care and love in him is wrapping around you, like he’s already trying to protect you more. You should maybe be worried about that. How he’s going to be hovering over you the entire time, and going to drive Butcher up the wall by refusing to go on mission because he’s not leaving his pregnant fucking wife, you pussycuck, and Hughie’s going to have to stop tossing you pens in the office, or Ben might cut off his arm. 

You should be worried.

But you’re not.

It’s Ben. And if you tell him to back the fuck up before he’s stuck sleeping on the couch, he’ll listen. He’ll know it’s an empty threat—you’d end up crawling over him on the couch or calling him back up to bed—but he’ll still listen. He’ll grumble and scowl, but listen.

And he’s already such a good fucking dad. This is just going to be a little more—diapers and crying and screaming and tantrums—but Ben doesn’t give up. And if even an eighth of the love in him right now is for the baby, they're going to be the most adored child in the world.

“How-“ Ben coughs, and when you lean back, his jaw is almost slack. “How the fuck-“

You giggle. “I think you’re how, my love. You and your breeding kink-“

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, his voice still slightly hoarse. “You’re sure. That you’ve done it.”

“Yeah, Ben.” You smile at him, your lips brushing over his. “I took the test a week after we got back from our honeymoon, and it was positive, so I was probably already several weeks along-“

He tenses around you. “That was almost goddamn month ago-“

“I know.” You sigh, propping your chin against his chest. “And I was going to tell you, but then I remembered your birthday was coming up, and I thought it would make a good gift.”

Your words trail off towards the end, Ben stares at you for a long moment, and then shakes his head. “Fucking Christ, Sunshine-“

“I’m sorry-“

“You’re fucking perfect.” Ben rolls fully back over you, his mouth slamming into yours for a bruising kiss, and there is it. 

He’s happy. There’s nothing stronger and more focused than the sheer fucking love and joy in Ben’s body. And soon you’ll have to start working things out and planning, telling people and arranging how a supe-pregnancy will work. Annie and MM already know, but only because they were there when you took the test. You’ll have to tell Ryan, and he’ll probably be expecting something in the morning. The government will be hell to deal with, and if you want to do a real wedding, you’ll either have to do it soon or after the baby arrives.

But those are problems for later. 

Right now it’s all Ben, kissing you deep and holding you against him, so full of love you’d might need to be worried it’s going to split him in half.

“I fucking love you.” He mutters, his hand already gliding to rest on your lower abdomen. “You’re- Christ on a Cross, you’re fucking-“

He seems to be short-circuiting, but it doesn’t stop him from diving back down and muttering more praise against your lips. 

Love you, Sunshine. Going to take good care of you, you perfect fucking menace. Both of you.

Love you too, You mumble between your heads, combing your fingers through his hair once more. Happy birthday, Benjamin.

End Note: Butcher's going to make Ben watch one of those sex ed birthing videos, and he's gonna be on his knees (he feels all the pain she feels. he's gonna need that weed)

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[bbluefllame]

I love your UA Touya so muchhhh!!! If you don’t mind, can you write down UA Touya HC’s!!!🤍🤍

U.A touya hcs !!

note: I was gonna save this till I finish all my other reqs but I decided why the fuck not 😭 also thank u for loving my ua touya!! he's officially my everything‼️ also also!!! this is a sugar spice and everything nice universe<3 everyone's okay here ‼️

- nepo baby I have nothing else to say, you've def went on multiple trips w him and his family (ur basically the 5th child for them). His bday gifts go so hard and he's like "yeah yeah whateverrrr" while blushing if u hug him!!

- he's a super heavy sleeper. Like normal touya is a menace while sleeping, ua touya is double that and it's scary I fear him. Sleepovers always end up with you going to sleep in the guest room cs the mf won't stop moving, kicking, snoring, and talking (and occasionally shouting)😭 instead of js "no I don't do that." he'd go "huh don't remember doing it so it didn't happen. 🤷‍♂️" obviously you don't remember you were sleeping mf.

- he gives his all in training (esp cs he has support gear), training w him is like a full-on battle it's a fucking struggle to hold him down, but also he'd be the best training partner you'd ever have. He would NEVER and I say NEVER take it easy unless you ask him to, if he gives it his all he wants you to give it your all.

- loves SWS and PTV, has been forced into piano by Rei as a child and kind of liked it, he probably likes classical music bcs Enji played it alot as well and it helps him focus while studying. OVERALL incredibly into music and could talk abt it for hours (you probably have listened to him rant abt music for 2 hrs straight before)

- is a failure in the kitchen no questions asked, he asked Fuyumi to teach him how to make soba once, 10 minutes in he starts scratching his head going "uh huhhh got it" (HE DOES NOT GET IT!!!!!)

- loves chemistry and math, don't ask why he just does also he gives off good at drawing without trying?? like he's a natural, all the art teachers adored him!!!!

- Shoto and Touya are so silly tg. Touya rolls his eyes and pouts, shoto copies his big brother even if he doesn't know what he's doing😭😭 Touya does something remotely cool and Shoto's looking up at Touya with sparkles in his eyes like "THATS MY BIG BROTHERRR!!!" while clapping (this is when shoto is a lot younger ofc not when he's 15‼️ he still adores his big brother at 15 tho)

- touya pretends he hates how close you and shoto are but the mf adores it and thinks it's adorable and sweet!!

- natsuo and touya are gossipers. Except Touya has all the dirt and Natsuo gasps while nodding his head, after all of that they RUN to Fuyumi who tells them "At the end of the day, we shouldn't talk about people." while sighing as if she isn't noting it down in her head to run and tell it to her bsf ‼️

- you can't tell me he's not putting his hand on his head whenever he's flirted with and going "WTF DO I DO!!" and if it's you (even if it's joking and through text) he's sitting on his bed giggling at 3 am and then panicking internally before acting nonchalant and texting "ew"

- he does get girls and guys tho, he's too pretty to not have bitches 😭 he just doesn't know what to do with the bitches ‼️‼️

- loves abandoned spots, he forces you to go with him even if ur scared while you're going "bro there's a ghost I'm telling you" he's like "what is it gonna do?? eat you??" While rolling his eyes or sumn😭

- you best believe if he feels sumn though he's running for his life, like he could be on par with Iida bcs of how fucking scared he'd get he's shooting his fire behind him and RUNNING!! in the end it's probably a spider or sumn and he's like "pfff I knew that!!!"

- has some sort of rivalry with Keigo even if he didn't do anything ALSO you showing interest in keigo just makes the hate 10× more intense he tweaks the second he sees you looking at keigo.

- he swears up and down left and right that he hates roblox but he LIESSSS!! you could find him 3 am on dress to impress arguing w kids about emo vs goth cs mfs don't know the difference

- on the topic of roblox, you, shoto, and him probably play it once a week tg (shoto chooses the game 99% of the time)

- whenever he's anxious or sumn he just goes "cool yeah coolcoolcool" cool is the most overused word in his dictionary trust (he just kinda reminds me of jake Peralta in the vocabulary department..)

- makes sure shoto memorizes the lyrics to hot and cold by Katy perry just bcs it's funny to him (it's so stupid), there's a dance number and everything TRUST!!!

- 4 am in the morning, rei has walked in on touya on his knees doing the emo hand move thing while singing with a comb.

- HE TURNS THT SHIT OFF SOOOO FAST WHILE COUGHING AND COVERING HIS FACE

- rant to him all you want, he might not understand but he'd listen ‼️‼️ (the second he hears of any mistreatment he tweaks)

- during the sports festival he's burned keigo's feathers multiple times (cough cough reference)

- sorry everyone but he IS one of those "Oh you like sws? name 5 songs." God forbid he sees a preppy nirvana t-shirt, he'd burn it in the store and run away

- he's actually pretty touchy when he's comfortable, like pinkies wrapped tg or hand around ur shoulder just has to have a hand on you at all times ‼️‼️

- overall awesome bsf, awesome brother, and would be an awesome bf!!

okay I'm done now it's 2 am and i gotta sleep hope u like this anon !!! 😔😔 (soz for making this so long)

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

The “Perfect” Pair

Synopsis: A writer tries to distract the campus math genius with silly courting tactics—only to end up falling harder than planned. A rivals-to-lovers slow burn filled with banter, study sessions, and unexpected feelings.

Word Count: 1,980

Karina X Male Reader

Karina was the mathematician. Cold, brilliant, precise—she could solve equations in seconds and reduce the toughest calculus problems to nothing but child’s play.

You? You were the writer. Messy desk, messier thoughts, but never short on metaphors or big ideas. A different kind of smart—head in the clouds, pen always moving.

And the two of you? Constantly at odds, never quite rivals, never quite friends.

Competition was the language you shared.

She beat you in math—scored a perfect 30 while you came in second with a brutal 16. You smoked her in English, topping the charts while she fumbled a few literary terms. Back and forth, like a pendulum with pride at stake.

Even debates turned into battlegrounds.

“Love is not real. It’s a chemical response. Toxins in the brain, serotonin, oxytocin—basic biology,” she argued one afternoon in Philosophy Club, arms crossed, eyes burning.

“Then why do people say ‘I’d take a bullet for you’?” you countered, leaning forward with a grin. “You ever seen anyone say that for dopamine?”

She rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re fun when you’re losing.”

People said you two were a match made in heaven. You both strongly disagreed.

“She’s the type to marry a textbook,” you joked once.

“And he’s the type to write poetry about a sandwich,” she clapped back.

But the tension? It was there. Everyone could feel it in the library, where you’d casually pass by her table with your annotated Shakespeare, and she’d just so happen to drop her linear algebra book near your seat.

“Studying English, I see?” she said one day, eyeing your notes.

“Good for you,” you smirked. “Why don’t you study some math, genius?”

You tossed a heavy calculus book at her desk. She scoffed, then cracked a small, unguarded smile.

At lunch, the roast came in hot.

“Karina bombed you again, man,” your friend cackled. “She got a perfect on that calc test. You got, what? 16 out of 30?”

“I’m not a math genius,” you said coolly, sipping your milk carton like it was a glass of aged wine, “but I have a plan.”

“Oh no,” someone groaned. “Last time you had a plan, we nearly got banned from the robotics lab—”

“Shh. We don’t speak of that.”

“So what’s the plan?”

You leaned back in your chair, eyes locked on Karina across the room. She was quietly scribbling in a notebook, brows furrowed, hair tucked behind one ear. Effortless. Brilliant.

“I’ll court Karina.”

Deadpan. Not a trace of irony.

The table went silent.

“So she can get distracted from her studies,” you finished.

“…You’re insane.”

“Diabolical,” someone whispered, impressed.

“Y’all laughing now, but when I sabotage her GPA with love, don’t ask me for my English notes.”

As they started to leave, still chuckling, you watched Karina from across the room. She caught your gaze—and smirked.

She didn’t know your plan.

But something told you… she wouldn’t mind being distracted.

You knew she’d forget. She always did when she was too deep in her equations to care about anything else. So you quietly placed a fresh pack of pastel highlighters across from your seat at the library table, right where she usually sat—one of each color, arranged like a color-coded peace offering.

When Karina arrived, her usual presence stole the air from the room. Hair loosely tied, brows furrowed like she was already solving a problem in her head. She stopped when she noticed the pack.

“What’s this?”

She didn’t look at you, but her fingers had already opened the packaging.

“A gift. From a desperate academic rival who also may or may not be deeply infatuated with you.” You tried to sound smug, but it came out soft.

She picked up the lilac one, her favorite shade—whether she noticed you noticing or not, you weren’t sure. “Pastel? Not bad.” Then she added after a beat: “Still doesn’t make up for that essay you bombed last week.”

But you caught the upward curl of her lips.

Day 3: The Candy Bribe

Midday, before class, you sneaked over to her desk and dropped a tiny gift bag with obnoxiously cute decorations—little strawberries, hearts, and glittery tape. Inside? Her favorite candies, all unwrapped for convenience. And a sticky note:

“A little sugar to balance the bitterness of your Calculus superiority complex.”

—Your not-so-secret admirer.

She didn’t react in class. No glance, no smirk, nothing.

But the next day, you noticed one of those candies being unwrapped during lunch, and the sticky note stuck to the back of her phone.

She was laughing with her friends. But the moment her eyes caught yours, she bit down on the candy and looked away, quickly—but not before the smallest, traitorous blush hit her cheeks.

Day 6: The Math Joke

You folded the paper twice to make it look like a note from a passing era—middle school drama, passing secret crushes. You slipped it under her book in the library.

She stared at it for a moment before opening it.

“You must be the square root of -1… because you can’t be real.”

Silence. You looked up from your laptop, waiting.

She didn’t say anything. Just slid it back across the table like a rejection letter.

“You’re so lame.”

But later, you saw it tucked inside her calculus notebook, next to her graph sketches. Folded once more—carefully.

Day 8: The Study Playlist

You titled the playlist “For the best girl in Calculus (and the worst in Romance)” and sent it with no explanation.

She didn’t reply. Classic Karina.

But the next day, you caught her listening to it on her phone, mouthing the lyrics to a song you knew she’d love. It was soft, instrumental, wordless. The kind of music that made your heart ache quietly.

You didn’t say anything. But she did.

“Track 7 is mid. Replace it.”

She was still listening.

Day 10: The Slip-Up

She stood at the whiteboard, sketching out a solution as if it were choreography. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, marker gliding in precise movements. You sat there, forgetting your own notes, eyes trained on the way she furrowed her brows, how she bit her lip when she was unsure, how she’d blink twice when she was sure she nailed it.

“Are you even trying to study?” she asked, catching your gaze.

You blinked, unashamed.

“Yeah. I’m studying… the trajectory of my feelings for you. And right now it’s looking like exponential growth.”

She sighed—hard—and shook her head, but the smile she tried to hide pulled at her lips like gravity.

“You’re hopeless.”

“You like it.”

No answer. But she didn’t walk away.

It started off as a plan.

Distract Karina with affection, fluster her with relentless charm—enough to knock her off her academic pedestal for just a moment.

But now? You were the one fumbling your pen every time she tucked her hair behind her ear.

DAY: 15

You left a mini chocolate on her library desk with a sticky note:

“For brain fuel. Or just because you’re sweet.”

She didn’t say anything when she saw it. Just unwrapped it calmly, popped it into her mouth… and looked you dead in the eye as she chewed.

“Focus on your reading, loverboy.”

You swear your heart short-circuited.

Attempt #8:

You wrote her name in cursive on the back of your English notes. Absentmindedly.

Then boxed it in hearts.

Then she leaned over and saw it.

“You got a little obsession going on there, Shakespeare.”

“That’s not mine. I bought these notes secondhand.”

“Mm-hmm. You wrote the date—today’s date—right underneath it.”

You didn’t respond. You were too busy pretending to drink from your empty water bottle.

Attempt #9:

She dropped her pen and you bent down to pick it up, but your head hit the underside of the desk.

She giggled as you groaned.

“Distracted much?”

“Only by perfect girls who smell like lemon shampoo.”

“…You’re impossible.”

But when she sat back down, her cheeks were dusted pink. And when she resumed writing, she didn’t hide her smile this time.

Your plan was falling apart, piece by piece.

And Karina? She knew.

She just kept playing along—like a cat swatting at string—waiting to see when you’d admit that maybe she wasn’t the one being distracted anymore.

Some days passed, like scattered pages from a diary filled with quiet glances and shared secrets.

Exams came and went—Karina still crushed the math ones, and you still swept the literature scores. But now, when one of you came out of a classroom, the other was always there waiting. Sometimes with snacks, sometimes with teasing, always with a grin.

During the school festival, you helped at the haunted house booth while Karina worked the math club’s impossible quiz stall. Students passed by giggling at the odd pairing of the two smartest yet most chaotic duo on campus.

“Come try the quiz and win a prize!” she called out.

You walked over with your arms crossed, raising a brow.

“What do I get if I score perfect?”

“My heart’s already taken, sorry.” she winked.

“I was gonna ask for your last taiyaki.”

“Then solve this.” She held out a paper.

You blinked.

“That’s calculus.”

“Exactly. Good luck.”

You didn’t get the taiyaki. She fed it to you anyway.

Late at night, you both stayed behind in the library once—her tutoring you through your math finals, your legs bumping beneath the table, her glasses slightly sliding down her nose.

She caught you staring.

“Focus, writer boy.”

“Can’t. You’re a distraction.”

She nudged your foot gently under the table.

And then there were moments in between—the walks to class, the sneaky texts during lectures, the way she’d tug at your sleeve when she wanted your attention.

You weren’t competing anymore.

You were just… falling. Together.

It happened on a rainy Wednesday after school. The hallways were mostly empty except for the occasional echo of shoes on tile. You found Karina near the lockers, tapping her calculator like it owed her money.

You had no gifts this time. No new pens, no chocolates, no sticky notes with your bad jokes.

Just a heart that wouldn’t stop thudding.

“Hey.”

She looked up. “No offerings today, Romeo?”

You smiled, but it was different this time—less smug, more honest. You stepped closer.

“I like you, Karina. Not for a plan or a distraction or any of that dumb stuff.”

“I just like you. You’re smart, you’re stubborn, and somehow you still put up with me. That has to mean something.”

She was quiet for a second. Then:

“You’re stupid.”

But she stepped forward. She looked up at you. And before your heart could fully panic, she kissed you—soft and fast, like a secret.

“But I like you too, stupid.”

The next day in class, you sat next to her like usual. Except this time, her arm brushed yours on purpose. And during group work, she took your pen, used it, and didn’t give it back.

Someone from your table noticed.

“Wait… are you two…?”

You and Karina looked at each other.

She smiled, shrugged.

“Yeah. We are.”

Chaos ensued.

From the back of the room, your friend gasped like it was a plot twist in a drama. “THE PLAN ACTUALLY WORKED?”

Karina rolled her eyes.

“It didn’t. He got distracted instead.”

You buried your face in your hands while everyone erupted in teasing cheers and mock applause.

But when her hand found yours under the table and squeezed it gently, you didn’t care.

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 baile inolvidable : leo valdez

▰▰ pairing: leo valdez x fem!reader

Leo loves a good spanish song to dance, so naturally he decides to teach his girlfriend how to dance.

mari talks! need me a man that takes me out to dance sigh

warnings: use of spanish but mostly petnames, no cabin mentioned for reader, songs mentioned at the end, nothing else just fluff.

Leo likes to work in Bunker Nine with his speaker blasting spanish songs at full volume, she doesn’t understand a word of what they're saying but since she spends a long period of her time keeping him company, she already knows the beat to some of them.

Sometimes, she hums along to the song, but she mostly likes to hear him singing. Most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he's singing since he's too distracted with whatever he's working on at the moment. But she notices, and she likes it.

This afternoon, he's so focused on his work that he has barely talked. She doesn’t mind, since she knows this is how he gets when he's hyper-focused on something. And anyway, she's already distracted by the book she's reading so they're basically co-existing silently.

That is, of course, until the music shuffles and a song that she has never heard before starts playing through the speaker. But Leo seems to recognize it because he immediately perks up.

It starts slow, with him simply tapping his fingers against the desk in rhythm, then humming along with the song. But then, suddenly he jumps out of his chair as if he can't keep quiet any longer.

"Alright, princesa, we have to dance. Now." He extends his hand towards her, and before she can even think about refusing, he's already pulling the book away from her to take her hand and help her up.

She's confused about this sudden burst of energy from him, but she still smiles with amusement. "Leo I don't even know how to—"

"Tsk, tsk" he interrupts her, wagging his finger before taking her other hand. "You don't know how to yet, but that's what i'm here for. Come on, preciosa, just this one song."

And because she can't resist to those beautiful, pleading brown eyes, she finally laughs and nods reluctantly.

At first, she moves awkwardly, trying to follow in his steps but definitely overthinking it way too much. "Leo I suck at this."

As if to prove her point, she makes one wrong step and ends up stepping on his foot. Leo dramatically gasps like he has been shot. "Ay, my amor! Is this how I die? Crushed by my own girlfriend?"

"I'm so sorry!" Her cheeks flush red as she apologizes profusely, dropping his hand. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this, I clearly don't—"

Immediately, he reaches to take her hand again and pull her back to him, this time closer. "I'm messing with you, cariño." he tells her softly, placing his hand on her waist. "You're overthinking it way too much, it's not a math equation. Just feel the music."

it takes her some more time and definitely a lot more stepping on Leo's foot. But slowly, she starts to relax and let herself be guided by Leo through the small space.

"you're a natural, preciosa!" he praises even though she still has a long way to go. "that's my girl."

"Okay this is fun" she admits, mostly enjoying the way he seems so happy and energetic.

"See? you just have to trust me." he tells her, delighted, spinning her before he's pulling her close again, almost making her trip on her own feet as she crashes against his chest.

Just in time for the chorus, too. He grins at her and reaches to push a strand of hair behind her ear. "tú me enseñaste a querer." he sings softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"What does that mean?" she tilts her head, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes shining curiously.

Leo hasn't told her that he loves her yet, he's scared about her not reciprocating even though it's obvious she does. "Nothing, just the lyrics."

She doesn't look too convinced, but before she's able to question it any further, he takes her off guard when he dips her suddenly. "Leo!" she laughs, surprised.

"What?" He asks, smirking once she pulls her back up on her feet. "Focus, princesa, you're totally dancing with a professional here."

By the time the song reaches its end, she's totally out of breath. And though she had a lot of fun, she's ready to sit down and work on her breath for a couple of minutes.

Leo has other plans, because another song has started and he's definitely not letting go of her for this one.

"Leo! you said one song." she complains playfully when she tries to pull back but he only brings her back closer.

"Yeah yeah, I know what I said." he chuckles, this time at least he moves a little more calming, still guiding her through it. "But you'll like this one, you just wait."

He sways his hips and moves his feet, but makes sure to keep close to her. No spinning this time, just his body moving along with hers.

Until he smiles a little too widely and dips her one more time, except this time she's ready and wraps her arms around his neck. "Why are you smiling like that, hm?" she asks, playfully.

He doesn’t answer, instead he sings along with the song. "suavemente, bésame." and then he's leaning to kiss her.

And listen, y/n doesn't know spanish at all, but she can understand what bésame means just because of the way he's suddenly kissing her, his lips so soft against her, his hold on her waist tightening slightly to keep her in place.

"I knew you'd like it." he hums against her lips, straightening her before finally pulling back with a smirk.

"Guess you were right." she replies brightly, leaning in for another kiss, just a quick peck. "I might even pick up dancing as a hobby."

"Oh I like that, cariño, you're my new dance partner now." He nods, completely pleased with himself.

She laughs softly, swatting his shoulder fondly. "you're ridiculous, you know that?"

Leo smiles, rocking them gently to the beat and leaning to press a kiss against her temple. "Yeah, but you love it."

And she doesn't bother denying it, she loves it. She loves him.

𖹭.ᐟ songs mentioned: baile inolvidable by bad bunny, suavemente by elvis crespo.

[roanniom]

King Steve flirting with inexperienced never been flirted with reader

Smartest

King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader

Read Part 2

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV/unprotected sex, teasing, coercion but consensual, King!Steve is a manipulative douchebag and is his own warning

“You’re really good at this stuff,” Steve says, watching for your reaction as you scribble math equations across the notebook paper. He can see embarrassment bloom across your features and he has to suppress the zing of triumph he feels. It’s so easy.

It makes him want to push it.

“It’s kinda hot.”

The pencil stops in its path and your eyes shoot up to his, brow raised.

“I’m not…that’s…you’re messing with me, Harrington,” you finally settle on in what you hope is a dismissive tone. Steve notes the way your hand writing becomes more shaky. He sucks on his teeth for a second before chuckling.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to be modest. Hot girl like you must be raking in the compliments.”

You shake your head but don’t look up from your work. Well…his work. The homework that you’re doing for him even though you were supposed to be tutoring him so he doesn’t fail algebra and miss out on basketball.

But his hand is suddenly on your knee.

“Look at you ignoring me. What, you tutor a football player that’s stealing all your attention? Nothing left for me?”

“I…I don’t tutor the football team,” you answer, dumb in spite of your high IQ. You look up and Steve’s grin is big, glad he could finally distract you. He’d gotten bored with the repetition of watching you do his homework. He’s got nothing else lined up today, might as well have some fun. It’s not like his parents are home and it’s a shame to waste a big empty house.

“Thought I was your favorite pupil,” Steve says in a mock whine, giving you puppy dog eyes that seem to short circuit your brain.

Bingo.

You can do his homework later.

“Y-you are,” you admit shyly. It makes Steve smile at you again and your heart bursts, the shriveled up crush you’ve been nursing for years finally being watered and rehydrated. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

“Good. Because you’re my favorite hot tutor,” Steve says with a wink. You swallow visibly at that and Steve laughs. “You’re still acting like nobody’s ever called you hot before and I call bullshit.”

“No….nobody’s ever called me hot before,” you say in a small voice. Steve’s eyes widen for a second. He’d been pressing on that point, not really thinking too hard about whether or not it could be true. It was just mindless flirting. And pretty lazy flirting, to be honest.

He takes the space of a second to wonder if he feels bad about your clear inexperience and insecurity. Instead, he feels a dark, sour tinge of excitement. Your obvious interest is an opportunity. He doesn’t take any time to analyze whether he should be ashamed of that thought.

“Do you like it when I call you hot?” Steve asks. It’s not a question. Not really. Not when he knows the answer is yes. But he’s angling for something as his hand slides up from your knee to your thigh. You drop the pencil fully and give your attention completely to him.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Do you like it when I do…this?” Steve ask, lifting your arm and delivering a kiss to the inside crook of your elbow. You squirm but a smile starts forming on your face.

“Yeah.”

“And this?” Steve asks, moving up to kiss your bare shoulder, just beside the spaghetti strap of your sun dress.

“Uhuh.”

Steve moves to the edge of his seat so that his knee moves between your thighs under your skirt. You squeak a bit at the new proximity. One of Steve’s large hands grips your waist, pulling you to him so he can mouth at the side of your neck.

“What about this?”

The feeling of his lips on your skin lights you on fire and you find it hard to keep responding.

“Oh…” Your thighs try to close, a sudden twinge of need at their apex urging you to seek out friction. You end up squeezing your legs around his knee which has pushed between them. Steve pulls back and smirks.

"Oh," he teases. He slides his hand over the slope of your hip, to your stomach and down to your lower abdomen over the fabric of your skirt. Steve’s heavy lidded eyes find yours. “You seemed to really like that, huh?”

“I….I….” you stammer, unsure of what to do with your hands so you drop them to rest shakily on his forearms. Steve leans forward again, dropping his wet open mouth to the curve of your neck and sucking.

“Oh…fuck,” you whimper broke my. Steve chuckles against your spit-slicked skin.

“How am I supposed to learn from you if you’re going to set a bad example like that?” he asks wryly. You blink at him, watching as his hands move to the buttons at the neckline of your sun dress. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly as your breathing speeds up, both with arousal and anticipation.

Steve undoes the top button with deft fingers. Instead of shrinking away, you arch your back almost imperceptibly towards his hands. Steve definitely notices.

“Ohhhh,” he says teasingly. “Or does the tutor want to learn a thing or two from the student?” His voice is lilting and light, but his eyes are dark. You look away for a second before looking back at him. Eyes the tentative. Nod small. Steve nods back along with you. “Okay then. We’ll first of all, we have to have the right workspace, don’t we?”

When you nod, Steve surprises you by standing up and swiping all the books, papers, and writing utensils off the dining room table and onto the ground in one broad sweep of his arm.

“Steve!” you squeal out in surprise, slapping a hand over your mouth. You know his parents are out of town and the two of you are alone, but when he grabs you and manhandled you to sit on the table, you suppress the startled shriek that tries to come out. Steve pulls you to the edge of the table and bullies his way between your legs, your thighs bracketing his hips. Steve’s hands return to the buttons of your dress.

“Then we have to gather the right materials. See what we’re working with, right?” He pauses, looking at you for confirmation as if you have any idea what he’s saying. You nod mindlessly and Steve proceeds to rip open the last few buttons, exposing your bra clad breasts. He hums in satisfaction as you cringe in embarrassment over the exposure. But all embarrassment leaves you when his big hands close over your breasts, squeezing and groping appreciatively.

“Mmmm yeah. These’ll do,” Steve hums before leaning in and kissing over where they swell out of their cups from the squeeze of his strong hands. You gasp when he yanks the bra down to expose them fully. Steve’s brows life. “These tits’ll definitely do.”

Next thing you know, Steve is kissing and sucking his way from one breast to the other, leaving you a twitching mess in his arms. You feel a hardness press into your apex beneath the skirt of your dress and it occurs to you that he’s turned on just like you are. Which is a stupid thought since he’s literally sucking hickeys all over you right now, but your lust addled mind can still barely comprehend that this is happening right now.

When you begin rolling your hips into that hardness, Steve takes notice.

Pulling back, lips wet, he grins at you.

“Me playing with these tits not enough for you?” he asks, one hand still fondling your breast. Lucky for you, he doesn’t seem interested in a reply. Instead he flips your skirt up, showing the dark wet patch that’s bloomed in your panties and - more importantly - the erection clear in his tight jeans. “That’s alright. It’s not enough for me either.”

You blink slowly as you watch him grind his hard on against your clothed pussy. The friction catches on your clit and you gasp, unable to take your eyes off the outline of the shape pressing against you. Steve takes your hand and brings it down between your bodies, squeezing to make you grip his cock.

“Feel that? You did this to me,” he says, almost accusatory if not for the chuckle. A possessive thrill of pride runs down your spine and you squeeze at him, making him grunt in appreciation. Steve looks up at you from beneath his lashes in a faux display of boyishness. “Gonna help me out here?”

You nod feverishly.

“Yes…I…please–,” is all you manage to get out before Steve’s mouth is on you. The kiss is deep and possessive and aggressive and you feel absolutely devoured. His hands feel like they are everywhere at once, paradoxically, as he pulls at you and grips you and grabs you. So distracted see you by his mouth and tongue that you barely register a moment of cold air hitting between your legs before the warm slide of something hot and thick rubs against your opening.

“Now for the big lesson,” Steve says, the corner of his mouth curving lasciviously. The fat head of his cock teases at your clit, making you sink your nails into his arms. He’s big. Huge even. And that’s the last thought you have before he’s begin to slide himself inside you, splitting you open.

“Steve!” It comes out in a rush with all the air he punches out of you with the penetration. Steve kisses your neck and hums.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

He bottoms out and there’s nothing but your ragged breaths to fill the silence for a moment before he’s pulling out, causing you to reel again.

“I know it’s big, baby, I know,” he coos. The taunting cockiness should put you off, but for some reason it heats you up even more. One his hands finds your clit and you let out a moan at the expert circles he begins to rub in.

Your walls relax with the stimulation, and your increasing wetness makes it easy for Steve to begin fucking you in earnest.

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

His words ring in your ears and it feels like everything begins and ends with Steve in your line of sight.

“Oh…oh…” you moan with each inward stroke. You’re rocketing towards a climax better than your most lavish fantasies.

Steve Harrington is fucking you. On his dining room table.

Your arms are around his neck, but eventually he pushes you down so your back is flat against the wooden surface. With his hands on your hips, Steve holds you steady so he can piston his hips at a break neck speed. Your entire body rocks against the table, Steve’s eyes focused on the bounce of your breasts with the force of each thrust.

“This is so much better than homework, fuck!” he groans out. You let out a breathless laugh at that and Steve looks down at you. “This is what you wanted, right? For me to fuck you all this time?”

The embarrassment surges up again but he hits a spot deep down inside that makes you whine instead. Steve takes it as confirmation.

“Bet you’ve been wet every time you’ve come over here. Just hoping I’d fuck this - fuck. This tight little pussy.”

“Yes. Yes, Steve.”

“Yes, Steve,” Steve mimics your pathetic, breathy confession. He’s close himself now, and his fingers are sure to leave bruises from the force of him squeezing you. “Next time I should just bend you over while you’re doing my work and fuck you. How’s that sound?”

You don’t say anything, too far gone at this point, and Steve laughs.

“Probably wouldn’t be able to keep doing my work with my cock in you. Makes you too brainless apparently.”

You’re practically drooling as you gaze up at him with hazy eyes, seconds from your orgasm. You being so out of it is what’s doing it most for Steve.

“Christ, look at you. Smartest girl in school and here you are, fucked stupid. It’s so. Fucking. Hot.”

And you - someone who until today had never been called hot ever - find yourself breaking into a million pieces with his words. Your orgasm crashes over you and you spasm around him, back arching off the table as you let out a massive cry.

~*~

Over time you are able to build up to a point where you don’t go as brainless. Eventually you’re able to kind of still do his homework as Steve fucks you.

But inevitably during every tutoring session there comes a point where Steve hits that place inside you just right, and his filthy words filter into your ear - and you go dumb.

Just the way he likes it.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog and comment to let me know!

Read Part 2

[dokkamj]

HEAR ME OUT!

⚠️ Note: Due to some misunderstandings and assumptions that may have come off as disrespectful, I want to clarify that this story is set during the second year of college — meaning all characters depicted are 19–20 years old. Please keep in mind the post is tagged 18+, and the context should reflect that clearly.

saw this on my TikTok today and i do really can’t help myself but write a fiction about it, i know my topics are usually and only COD, but if you won’t mind sometimes me switching on something else lmk.

i think that armin and nerdarmin are two completely diff people, like the alterego or sum shi and man this is how i see nerdarmin👌🏻

this might can be a bit out of character 🥀

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE sorry for eventual grammars mistakes.

MDNI! this is a 18+ story, so as my whole profile this content contains: strong explicit language, sexual content explicit, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll.

I FREAKING LOVE THIS.

art credit on TikTok: musapylsa

“nahh are u serious him??” your friend asked with a giggle, even if the whole school saw you as a heartless bitch, a popular one, your best friend sat just in front of you knows that you are sweet as chocolate.

“why that long face?” you ask back, rolling your eyes, the topic was, ,cute boys i would sleep with’

“because you are gorgeous and he is just—“ she turns around to look at Armin, baggy jeans t-shirt those glasses... “so nerdy…” she sighed, your speciality was to fell for losers literally.

“he is so pathetic i love it” you giggled, its been weeks you tried to catch his attention but it was like, he wasn’t even aware that you were teasing him all around.

when both of your gazes meet you just bit down you bottom lip nervously. “i wanna talk to him” you announced.

“gosh no do not—“ you can hear your friend calling out your name but too late, your heeled boots where already tapping on the ground.

flare jeans, rolling stone t-shirt, that witch aura of yours and your hips swinging where already in front of Armin.

“Hello” you smirked, you were short too that’s why the heels, you reached his height and maybe a bit more.

“i— uh” he looks at his feet muttering your name, he was full aware of who you are and how many stupid ass guys follows you around like pets trying to have their sweet threat, at least one thing that he admires about you is the fact that instead of being like the others girls that sleep around here and there, you never.

at least… he never heard anything about you. “sorry if i disturb you” you said shoving your hands in your back jeans pocket “i just wanted to ask if maybe you could help me with math you know” you said trying to act as innocent as possible.

oh the only desire was to eat him alive.

“can’t Mikasa do it like she usually—“ you stopped him “i— actually asking you because i want someone that have a softer approach to me, that i struggle a lot.” you nodded, you where hella good in math but you really don’t know what excuses invent anymore.

he sighed, looking in to you completely, wow you where such a fucking pretty woman that everyone would show off like a trophy.

“i guess i can of course” he gulps down that strange feeling, no one beside his small group of friends talks to him in school so it was unexpected.

“uhm do you prefer idk, your house or mine?” you asked, looking at him for an answer “i uh my place sounds good,” he nods.

you hand him your phone “give me your number so we can accord when” you nodded and he shyly type in his phone number.

later after some classes you texted him ,hey i’m y/n so this weekend??’ the response came up fast, you wasn’t surprised he was always on his damn phone. ‘your place is good, i mean if this is okay,

you bit your bottom lip ,ok Friday evening? i live alone so no worries’ you texted back and forth nothing special, but you liked him, and it made you laugh how he was trying to approach you with respect and sweetness.

Friday came up really quickly and no one was aware of your evil plan, or at least no one knew you really liked that boy. Opening the door he was there, his hair tied in a little low messy bun, glasses loose on his nose, hoodie and jeans with converse.

“oh hey” you smiled, hugging him even if he didn’t hug you back but that was ok? you guess. You two started with math problems and he didn’t know how but you ended up teaching him.

he let his glasses rest on top of his head “sorry i mean you are even more better than me why did you asked me for teaching?” he rise up a eyebrow and you gulped.

“it was just that— you seem cute and i was just thinking what if i get to know you better??” you explained quickly “ah really?” he giggles, then smirked.

“poor y/n, you didn’t have enough attention?? you don’t like pretty boys that salivate at the sight of your ass?? why do you want me? so cruel to yourself to end up with a fucking looser like me?” he asks and your eyes widened you clearly didn’t see that coming.

“cat got your tongue? huh?” he stood up as you remain frozen on your chair in the living room. He stepped in front of you, his hand come up to grab your chin “what? did you want this?” he bend down and the second later his lips where against yours.

He took off his glasses and let them slide on the wooden table, you couldn’t help but kiss him back, with that passion and fire that you usually hold back. “who is the pathetic one, tell me” he bit your bottom lip “answer me y/n what the fuck.” he ansimate against you.

“me, fuck i’m sorry i needed to be more clear with my intentions.” you mumble, his hand on your bare tights, your pajama was doing such a bad job keeping you hidden.

“good pretty girl.” he murmurs, in all of this you kept kissing him back, and your hands slides down his hoodie, touching his bare stomach, you could tell he actually workout, not a lot but still.

and in a bunch of minutes he was on top of you on your bed, legs spread, shorts on the floor and panties tucked to the side as his slim fingers slides into your folds “already sucking me in so deeply?” he teased licking the outline of your lips and you moaned.

“pathetic.” he said almost proudly, this was a joke, the nerd with no friends and no social life was fucking you like a greek god? this was a damn dream. Mornings ago you were the one calling him pathetic and now? He got you creaming his fingers.

your legs tremble “yes this is how you like it mh?” he muttered, fingers deep and curling up inside of you as his thumb was playing with your clit he spits down just to lube that pretty bean of nerves to get you spasm against him before coming heavily. Hips jerking back and your gasps became screams.

“ah so this is your weak spot.” he tortures your clit mixing to the fact that you just came everything seems more sensible, overstimulating. “please— need you” you mutter shamelessly.

“no pretty girl, i decide here” his lips against your neck sucking heavily to leave hickeys to mark her, his cock was painful in his jeans but he wasn’t ready to let himself go yet, he wants you painfully undone.

he goes down on you, making you position your legs on his shoulders before he starts to slurp on your wet cunt, making you spasm and tremble following by his hand pressing on your lower belly to keep you down as the other was playing with your clit and his tongue slapping against your folds.

you taste fucking heavenly. That acid but sweet and your own perfume made him roll his eyes back into his skull, goddamn. And you cried as you came another time screaming his name like a slut that you where, at least at the moment.

He stayed there for a minute observing his masterpiece, your cunt dripping juices on the bed sheets your clit puffy and overstimulated and your legs still spasm from the orgasm.

“i think you are ready here.” he smirked his hair messy his body clean and neat almost like he did knew what he was about to do tonight, “bastard” you muttered to yourself.

when he take off his jeans and boxer, you gulped down, it was long thick enough to get that sweet spot scratched by him. “what you staring at? wanna a taste mh? say A” he smirked again, bringing you onto your knees on the floor as he stood before you.

“com’on be gentle mh? and suck on this dick” before grip on your hair to bring your mouth on his tip, you obey because hell this guy could make your cunt happy and you wasn’t going to say no.

you open up like a whore and swallowed him whole, making him gasp and rest his arms on the bed as he start to move his hips against your mouth “fuck” he mutters almost pathetically.

you could see how his moods shifts, sweet and rough, rude, then kinda fucking pathetic, and why does this turns you even more on?

“enough, com’here” he demand, helping you to go back to lay on the bed, your legs open wide for him as he was settle in the middle “so..” he begun “condom?” his tip slides sweetly on your clit “or no condom?” his tip now on your folds slapping it making your cunt doing those wet shame sounds.

you wined gasping for air, it was a torture but a goddamn sweet one. You swing your hips to get more friction even tried to lowers yourself on him to suck that cock with your cunt.

“i don’t fucking care Armin, fuck me and shut that nerdy mouth.” you came up with a little comeback too frustrated as you clench around nothing.

he smirked and exposed your chest before go all the way in, with only a trust making you curl up your toes and gasp and he moaned because he didn’t expect you to be this wet and this fucking tight.

“oh gods” he rolls his hips back and forth and his pathetic personality was coming back you could see it as he whines against your neck slapping his hips against yours as you moaned loudly.

“oh— fuck yes” you moaned encouraging him to go even rougher, your hands in his hair as he bites your breast angrily, the slaps sounds grew louder and more irregular. Your legs shook and Armin grabbed the occasion to overstimulates you by bringing his fingers to his mouth to lube them and torture your clit.

“com’on, i know you can do that…” he suggested but you clearly was too much wrapped up in your own feelings that you didn’t really heard him. And before you can knew it the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks making your eyes roll back your legs spasms and your cunt squirting as he kept pumping into you before pulling out and stroking himself to release on your folds.

and that shit? made you even more turned on and you didn’t even knew how that was possible.

“what the fuck.” you gasped looking at him “what? never done that before? or— you didn’t know you could do it?” he asks with a smirk.

okay who is this guy? because the Armin you knew?! completely disappeared! completely wrong!

“how did you—“ you mumble “you know being a nerd and reading a lot, if you put that together with some sexual education books and, well that’s the result” he points at the mess making your face redden more than it already was.

“you done this before?” you asked breathing heavily, “i mean yes but you are my best masterpiece.” he smirked slapping on your ass playfully.

You spent the night together, and he was the sweetest soul you ever meet, the dom Armin? gone. It was like he had problems with personalities, well for what you just experienced with him.

the morning after he was there, handing you a mug of coffee “show together? i can massage your back.” he said with a shrug and you just pinch yourself because you still think this wasn’t true.

“how did you even know how to make coffee with my machine…” you said sleepy “tsk i just search the brand and scroll in their site find your machine—“ he cut himself off “just nerd things.” he said.

you smiled “you keep surprising me” your giggles filled the room suddenly, and if for you was like winning the lottery, for him it was like he just found heaven on earth, and it was a woman named y/n.

this is how you two ended up being a real couple, a damn weird one, but things worked because yourself too have so many interests like the videogames. Still today you try to understand how much he is just strange… a moment it’s the cute nerdy Armin and the second layer puff he is all horny and all over you.

[httpscomorg]

Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

[iammissdistress]

Payneland Alive AU fic recs. Part 8

match, candle by Ingi

Rating: Explicit

Words: 19,271

Charles' five minute breaks have never, not once, lasted five minutes. Or: Six places that St Hilarion’s students Charles Rowland and Edwin Payne try to have sex in, with varying results. (Six first times.)

Stay The Night by @e-payne

Rating: Explicit

Words: 21,262

“Okay.” Charles laughs, breathy, and his eyes twinkle when he says, “I’ll be good.” A heat rises below the collar of Edwin’s shirt. Behind the tinted windshield, the waves crash on the shore. (Charles becomes a constant in Edwin's life.)

love’s so strange (so real in the dark) by @tumblerislovetumblerislife

Rating: Explicit

Words: 11,348

To illustrate his point, he gave Charles’ necklace a sharp tug. Charles did not answer the question, because Charles’ eyes were slipping shut and his lips were parting around a pretty gasp, the necklace slackening under Edwin’s finger as Charles followed the motion down – “Charles…” Edwin whispered, and it was not quite a question and not quite a warning. If he were to be brutally honest with himself – something he rarely allowed – it was simply to feel the shape of it in his mouth. “Tell me to stop,” Charles said at last, breaking the charged silence between them. His voice was hoarse. Edwin swallowed with difficulty. Charles’ eyes dipped down, and his ridiculously long lashes accenting the motion, until there could be no doubt that he was staring at Edwin’s mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” Or: In another universe, the doorbell doesn’t ring.

In The Name Of The Law by @thenyoumaykissthebride

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 22,323

DS Charles Rowland is 35, and loves being a copper. He finally found something he was good at after nearly 30 years of achieving nothing. He wants to help people, wants to make a difference and thought he was going to be able to do that in London. But now he's been moved to a new patch, and given a new boss to report to. DI Payne is a genius. At 34, he's the youngest person to make DI in 50 years. He's the best of the best, everyone will tell you that. Unfortunately that'll probably be the second thing they tell you. First they'll tell you he's rude, unapproachable and thinks he's better than everyone else. They might even tell you about the colleagues he's supposedly made cry, and definitely made request a transfer. But he doesn't care if you know that. All he cares about is finding Becky Aspen, before it's too late and she becomes another girl who's death he hasn't been able to solve.

i can keep a secret if you can keep me guessin' by @edwinspaynes

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 4,691

Life is hard for an Oxford student, but coffee makes Edwin's a little bit easier. Especially because Charles, the barista at his local coffee shop, is breathtakingly handsome. And, what's more, Charles seems to take a liking to him, too - Enough to make small pictures in the milk of his daily Cafe au Lait. Will they fall in love in time for the holidays? (Spoiler alert: the answer is yes.)

above all I want you to be warm by @shadowquill17

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 2,996

Charles has a maths test tomorrow morning. Which is why he’s in his boyfriend’s room on a Thursday evening, two days before the holidays, with said boyfriend looking dead fit in his neat but cozy-looking jumper. And Charles should currently be snogging him into oblivion, but what is he doing instead? He’s studying up on functions. In which there is studying, kissing, gifts, and more kissing.

[awyeahitssam]

Harry is seven when she writes a story about a man who made humans into piñatas, carefully stuffing them full of candy and sewing them together. 

Extremely disturbing, her English teacher writes on it in pretty, swirling letters. Excellent work. 

Harry keeps it under a floorboard in her cupboard, and while she always finds a moment to frown at her poor spelling when she pulls it out, the praise ignites something warm in her each time. 

Excellent work. It's the first time anybody has ever said that to Harry. She's determined that it won't be the last. 

Harry likes to write. English is the only class she allows herself to do well in, because her other scarcely passing grades will balance on the report. She writes fantastical things, horrific things that she does not yet identify as horrific, hopeful things, depressed things. Harry is trapped in a cupboard with a single school spiral and a thousand ideas, and so she creates. 

She fills half the pages, front and back, before she realises she needs to write smaller. She begins to fit two lines on a space meant for one. Still, the notebook is filled inside of a week.

Harry waits until her maths teacher isn’t looking, and filches one from his desk. It lasts a week and a half.

Harry becomes used to stealing. Once, she’d only done it to keep away that awfully nauseous feeling of not having eaten for too long. Harry finds, now, that she is more hungry to write than she is for food.

Her English teacher continues marking her papers in pretty cursive.

The most morbid thing I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

A chilling masterpiece.

Very good work, Harry. Take pride in the considerable improvement your grammar has seen over the past several months.

Harry hoards every word of praise, and lets it repeat in her mind when Aunt Petunia rants about what an awful, stupid, useless thing she is. Perhaps Aunt Petunia is right that she’s awful—good girls don’t steal—but Harry does not think she is stupid. Mrs Powers thinks her writing is useful, even if nothing else she does is. 

So Aunt Petunia derides her, and as she does Harry begins to make a game of overwriting the words as they’re spoken with Mrs Power’s praise. After a while her shoulder’s stop creeping up around her ears when she is told off, though the one time she accidentally smiles, she’s dragged by her hair and thrown into the cupboard for her disrespect. After that, she still plays her game, but is careful not to let anything show on her face.

She watches people closely at school now, trying to work them out instead of trying to avoid all notice. Harry observes their interactions, and sometimes they’re friendly, sometimes unhappy, and sometimes there is conflict, which is a very important writing device. 

Jasmine and Edgar are the most popular kids in her class. Edgar, though, is very unhappy to share a birthday-week with Jasmine, and very unhappy that they both to have parties on the same day, Saturday. 

Edgar has never liked Jasmine. It takes Harry a lot of watching the boy to figure out that it is because his father sneers at people with dark skin, and he mimics his father whenever he can. 

Jasmine’s skin is the same colour as Harry’s except she is pretty, and nice, and everything Harry is not. She is also hurt by Edgar’s behaviour—Harry can not even imagine being hurt by such mild insults—and Harry finds a fascination in how that hurt seems to change her.

When Jasmine starts crying after three days of Edgar being mean to her, her tears are nothing like Dudley’s. Her sobs are genuine and trembling. It hurts something in Harry’s chest to see her so sad, and she understands the way people try to soothe her upset. 

The boys do not like to see a very nice little girl like Jasmine cry, and even some of Edgar’s best friends go to comfort her. Most of the girls do not like that Edgar has been mean to Jasmine when she is always nice to everyone, and they make it known in strange ways. Some yell at him in high-pitched voices, some ignore him completely, and some cross their arms and stare at him with narrow eyes. 

Harry watches Jasmine, and she sees the girl looking around with wide, red-rimmed eyes, realising the way her crying has garnered sympathy. Then, Harry sees the steely kind of look that enters her eyes. For the rest of the day and then week she works to turn their entire class against Edgar, and Harry thinks the attempts are clumsy at times, and obvious, but she roots for Jasmine anyway.

Everybody except Edgar’s very best friend goes to Jasmine’s birthday party, and Edgar comes to school on Monday quiet. He still does not like Jasmine, and looks at her with mean eyes, but he also seems like he’s been defeated.

Harry wonders if she can ever defeat Dudley like that. 

Throughout the entire week of watching, Harry scribbles out all of the different reactions she notices.

She wants to know more. 

She wants to know how people react in all different scenarios: she’s hungry for it, because she wants to write it, because writing is important.

Words are important.

They can make you feel so bad you want to not exist anymore, or they can make you so happy you feel like you can float out of your skin.

One day, Harry talks to Jasmine, just to see what the girl who seems very, very nice will make of a not-nice girl like Harry, with short, messy hair and too-big clothes. She knows she looks poor (she is poor), and Jasmine’s family has money, but they aren't rich. Harry knows the other girls frown at her sometimes, maybe because they can’t braid hair as short as hers, maybe because she’s weird, maybe because she doesn’t claim to be a tomboy like the other girls that wear shorts and tee-shirts and is so still and so quiet and so ominously watchful.

(She learned the word 'ominous' last week—she likes it a lot. She thinks that’s what her entire existence is: ominous.)

Jasmine is polite to Harry, returns her hello, and gives her a sort of weak smile before hurrying back to her friends. She’s not kind, not exactly, and Harry guesses it’s obvious that she’s a freak, and even very nice girls like Jasmine know it’s better to stay away from such unnatural things. She does not try to say hi again. 

She starts writing about people in her classroom, using different names. Jasmine is her favorite to write about, though Harry calls her Lily, which is Harry’s mum’s name. She makes her bold and a bit more careless than Jasmine is in truth, makes her say what she thinks, and do what she likes, and not care about whether other people like her. 

Harry begins to write about herself, too, a character named Alias that doesn’t let feelings play across her face, even though she feels a lot. She tries to make them friends, but they can’t be.

Alias is self-contained and Lily is too powerful in her own boldness.

She sets them against one another in conflict, instead. Writes how she might react to bold, brash declarations, too-big gestures and careless actions that nonetheless show care. She finds herself snickering into her arm to muffle her amusement at how very outraged Lily is by Alias. They are the opposite of each other. 

Harry wonders, sometimes, if she is that to her mum. Perhaps it would be good to be: after all, her mum was silly enough to marry a man who got into a car drunk and killed them both in a crash. 

The next paper she submits to Mrs Powers gets a new kind of a remark. Excellent characterization.

The blankness Harry pulls around herself falters. She grins down at the paper, blatantly proud in the middle of class.

Mrs Powers hums softly and places a hand gently on her shoulder. Harry’s gaze jerks up in alarm, and Mrs Powers offers her a kind smile that has sharpness underneath, and nods her head in what looks like—like approval.

Warmth blasts through Harry like a firework. 

She’s hungry to write more.

[cloud-laufeyson]

Desires

High School!Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being friends with Mike in high school and helping him with math, but that quickly turns into something else.

Reader’s pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 1.5K

Story Contains: profanity, name calling, fluff, angst, oral (female receiving), p in v, 

Notes: I heavily believe that Mike sucked at math in school and I will die on that hill

You are walking through the crowded halls, trying to go to your normal meeting spot after school. You look for Mike. He’s been your best friend for years. You’ve helped him through the death of his brother and you are always there for him and his sister. You finally spot him, “Hey Mike! How were classes?” You smile at Mike while he shrugs. “Still don’t get it.” He frowns. 

You and Mike are total opposites. You are in all honors classes while he’s in regular classes. You usually help him after school so he can get good grades. “Well that’s why I help you. Was it math today?” You start walking in the direction of his home and he follows beside you. “Yeah. I hate school.” You laugh at what he says. “Well let’s get to your place and I’ll help.”

After walking and chatting for a bit, you and Mike both make it to his place…nobody is home. “Why is no one home?” You look at Mike who starts to realize. “Oh yeah, Abby had her talent show today, so my parents are gone.” You nod and smile. Your face gets a bit hot.

You didn’t tell anyone or want to admit it, but you like Mike. You’ve been friends since you were both 6 years old. Every year, your crush goes deeper and now you two are 17 years old. This is your last year in high school. 

“Come on. We’ll work in my room.” Mike waves for you to follow him up the stairs. You follow without a second thought. His room is a bit messy, but not much. Just some clothes on the floor, and some empty water bottles…nothing too crazy.

“Okay, what was it that you were confused about?” You look at Mike, seeing him already looking at you. Your face gets hot again. “Well…it’s calculus so everything.” You two both laugh. “But to be specific, limits.” You nod at what he says, “Okay, I can definitely help you with that.”

30 minutes go by, “Mike, it’s okay!” You watch him as he paces in his room. Mike is visibly frustrated. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” You sit in shock, he never yells while you help him. You walk up and try to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mike, it’s fine.” He flinches at the tough, not seeing you walk up. He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I know. Usually when you help me, I get it. Why can’t I understand this?” Mike stands still. You shake your head. “I don’t know, but it’ll be okay. I got all night.” You smile at him and rub his shoulder gently. Mike looks up at you, making eye contact. Something was different about the way he looked at you. 

With no warning, Mike kisses you on the lips. You are shocked but slowly melt into the kiss. As soon as you kiss back, Mike brings you closer to him by your waist. You moan a bit, face getting hot. The kiss gets sloppy and you two are breathing heavily. It feels like you two were waiting for this kiss to happen. 

Your hands start to travel up to his hair, you lightly tug at it. He moans into the kiss. The simple tug, making him become more passionate. His hands go up to your face and your hands travel down his body. You feel his chest, arms, and abs. You could feel his muscles, making your underwear wetter. Mike backs you up and you fall on his bed. “I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time.” Mike’s voice goes low, making you feel something. He takes off his shirt crawling on top of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him.

You feel hands touch the skin of your waist. Mike looks at you with lust, pleading with his eyes for your shirt to come off. He takes it off of you in a rush and stares at you. You start to feel exposed until he leans closer to your ear and whispers, “You look delicious Y/n.” Your already wet underwear are now soaked. He goes to your neck and starts kissing and sucking different spots. Your hands travel down to his pants, trying to unbuckle his belt. As you get it unbuckled, Mike sucks on the nape of your neck. You moan loudly, the sensation feeling so good. Mike smirks while coming back up. “Such a whore for me huh? Tell me how much you want me.” You breathe heavily. “Please Mike. I really want you. You can make me all yours.” You scratch his back as you beg for him. He groans and rips his pants off, doing the same to you, he slides your pants and underwear all the way down. 

Mike stares at you underneath him. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he breathes out. You start kissing him and you feel fingers slide right into you. You moan and roll your eyes. “Does that feel good sexy?” All you could do was not your head, you feel yourself about to cum. Mike slides back down and pulls his fingers out. You whine and before you could say anything his tongue circles around your clit. “Fuck!” you yell out not expecting that. He is eating you out while looking at you. You grab a handful of his hair and tug it. He moans causing you to feel vibrations. He slides his tongue in you and keeps moaning. Your back arches and you cum all over his chin. As he makes his way back up to you, you see all your juices on his chin. He wipes it and says, “God baby, you taste so good on my tongue.” 

He slides inside you. You wince at the pain, but moan at the pleasure. “That’s it baby. Moan for me.” The pain goes away and all you feel is pleasure. You moan loudly as he buries himself deep inside you and pulls right back out. “Oh fuck Mike!” Your yells and moans could be heard all over the house. “Fuck Y/n. You feel so good.” Mike’s moans fill the room, sounding like music to your ears. His pace picks up faster as he pumps in and out of you. “Shit!” You can feel yourself getting tighter around Mike’s cock. He leans down to your ear, “Cum for me. Cum all over me.” His tone sounds demanding and his voice is so low. You scratch his back as you orgasm, cumming all over him. Mike goes faster, making sure he draws out the orgasm. He puts his thumb on your clit, making the sensation so much better and intense. “FUCK MIKE!” You couldn’t help, but yell out his name. Mike’s thrusts get sloppier with every second. “Oh Y/n~” Mike moans. You scratch his back even more and this sends him over the edge. He quickly pulls out of you and cums on your stomach. The second he finishes, he runs to grab a towel. He comes back and cleans you up. He tosses the towel beside him and lays down beside you.

You two lay their breathlessly. You finally turn your head to look at him and, on que, he looks at you too. “Mike I-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence because Mike kisses you right on the lips. “Y/n I’ve liked you since I was 13. I’ve tried to find so many ways to tell you, but I always back out.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, I’ve liked you since I was 15 so I guess you fell first.” You giggle at your own joke and Mike chuckles. “I love you, Y/n.” Mike sounds so genuine. You smile wide, “I love you too.” You two lean in for another kiss. “It’s about time this happened,” Mike says admiring you, you laugh. 

You guys hear the front door unlock and shoot up to get dressed. You find your body spray and spray it on you and Mike’s bed. You and Mike get dressed at record speed and pretend to help him with his math. Mike’s mom comes up the stairs and leans into the room. “Hey you two! What are you doing?” You look at his mom with a smile. “Hey Mrs. Schmidt. I’m just helping him with his calculus work.” She nods her head and looks around the room. “Mike, you need to clean this room! Can’t believe Y/n still hangs out with you in this mess.” You laugh loudly enjoying this moment. “I know.” Mrs. Schmidt walks out of the doorway and goes downstairs. Mike looks at you and smirks, “Hangs out is one way to put it.” You slap his forehead. “Shut up.” You roll your eyes. He leans in close to your lips, but before kissing you he whispers, “I’ll leave the window open for you for round 2 tonight.” He kisses your lips softly. 

[hadesisqueer]

I appreciate The Dragon Prince because it gave me tragic antagonists or villains that I love (Claudia), villains that while I don't really like them I understand how they came to be and can feel a bit of sympathy for (Aaravos or Viren), villains I straight up fucking hate (Sol Regem) and villains that I don't really hate because when they appear on-screen I just sigh wondering how they can be so fucking stupid (Karim). They really give you everything.

No but for real, Karim's entire character arc consists of 'The risk I took was calculated but I am bad at math' because. He's so dumb. He keeps saying he wants to restore the Sunfire Empire to its former glory, but like-- how? What plans do you have for the future? Are you going to try to retake Lux Aurea? Because you can't. Oh, you want humans out? Okay-- how would that help to restore the former glory, though? You're just being a bigot?

The thing is that all Karim ever did was talk about his birthright —that's not even his birthright, actually, because he's the youngest sibling— and keep babbling about history demanding blah blah blah of people and how his sister wasn't a competent queen when actually it is the opposite. Janai proves, by allowing the architect to live while still giving her an according punishment, that she is a fair queen who chooses mercy and allows people to grow while still choosing justice; also, that she's more practical, because what good is a talented architect dead —who did something awful but still was sorta right about fire being dangerous around the camp— when you can just make her build a shrine so this kind of incident never happens again. Janai also had the Sunseed and plans to nurture it and help it grow, help her own people grow. She actually had plans for the future, and she had the patience necessary. She understands that you must learn from history but that it also doesn't define you, that you must not let it define you.

Karim doesn't get that. He was obsessed with history and the old ways. He didn't have any patience. And he didn't have any long term plans. Or even backup plans for when his plans inevitably failed, either! He was so convinced Janai would refuse his duel he was shocked when she actually fought him, and resorted to fighting-- with fire magic-- against someone who's fireproof-- again, no actual plan. He tried using an assassin to kill his sister, the actual person the assassin had a life debt to. He wants to steal the Sunseed, actively fucking over his people. When Ezran tells him to take his followers and start somewhere else, Karim refuses because he says he doesn't want crumbs off his sister's plate, but at the same time it's like-- that's exactly what you were gonna get, buddy. You wanna use Sol Regem to torch your sister's army. The only thing you're gonna rule over is the followers you have now plus what remains of Janai's, if they even accept you. So, yeah. Literally crumbs.

Also, again, he's so fucking entitled. 'What's rightfully mine' he's the youngest sibling, nothing is rightfully his, he's an usurper. Part of his demands being that humans leave and go back to 'their side of the border, where they belong', buddy, you'd be the king of the Sunfire Elves, not the King of all of Xadia. As king you could make humans leave your territory, but not Xadia. If a bunch of humans, hypothetically, befriended Moonshadow or Skywing elves and lived at the Silvergrove, or wherever the Skywing elves live, with them-- what, now you're gonna try to wage war against the the other elves, too, because they're not following your ways? You can threaten them with Sol Regem, sure, but also consider, because you didn't even consider it when you went to him-- he's an Archdragon, yeah, but the weakest of the Archdragons right now. Let's say Ezran and Janai follow through and give up and leave. They could go with Zym and head straight up to the Mushroom Mage and come back with Zubeia, the current Queen of the Dragons, right after she's done with her treatment. They arrive. Who's gonna win? A healthy Archdragon on her prime or an old, blind Archdragon that hasn't flown or fought in centuries? Also, once you give him the Sunseed he actually has no reason to be on your side, he already got what he wanted. Even if the Katolis thing didn't happen, he could've turned against you very easily. He likely would've done so.

He's an awful leader who doesn't actually care about his people. He disrespects other world leaders like Ezran immediately. He's an entitled, bigoted idiot who doesn't actually think things through and that actually makes him both incredibly annoying and very realistic, which actually makes me like him as an antagonist but still makes me let out a exasperated sigh every time he talks. Best part of him is that he's obsessed with going down in history as someone great when, with his actions, he's only going to pass down as the prince who tried to usurp his sister three times and failed the three times, each failure worse than the previous one. Lmao.

[wellofdean]

Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

[strawberrykisseslia]

Lovesick

ellie williams x fem!reader

cw: fluff, slowburn kinda

wc: 684

an: im tired of mean ellie and mentally unstable reader, they're just silly little girlies in love

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you and ellie had been friends since childhood really. you did everything together, you told each other your biggest secrets and shared gossips. she was your sunshine in the dark times of life. she was always there for you, and you were always there for her.

now both of you were at the last year of college. your evenings were spent with endless studying with ellie's help since she was the so called smart kid in the class. it was true. she was really smart, you always admired her for that, and for many other things too. she was the best thing that had happened to you. you often found yourself thinking about her more and more. you thought it was normal for best friends to think about each regularly, no?

this evening was no other than any other. you were sitting on your bed with your notebooks and laptop out while ellie at your desk as you were studying math. it was not your best subject, and most of times you didn't understand it, who does? ellie, surprisingly.

"you good?" she asks you as she turns around in the chair to face you. you look up at her and simple nod. the truth is, you weren't exactly focused on what's happening with math as ellie was explaining. she noticed you were somewhere else in mind.

she chuckles because she knows you're not good. "let's take a break." she says as she gets up from the chair to stretch out. you stretch out your arms in the air and a yawn escapes your mouth. ellie scoops over to you on the bed so she can face you. you lock your eyes with hers. her green eyes shining as the brief sunshine reflecting on her eyes. "wanna take a walk outside?" ellie offers.

the weather was cold but somewhat comforting. your hands in your pockets, ellie's hands next to her, they seem pretty empty, you thought. the scenery is beautiful. it's snowing in small flakes. the streets emtpy as the sun is setting slowly down.

"today's evening is beautiful." ellie breaks the comfortable silence between the two of you. you smile. "i agree. there's something special about it." you peak at her and notice her small pretty smile. suddenly the cold is rather warm under your coat, on your skin. you look before yourself hiding your maroon checks behind your scarf. ellie seems to notice everything, which means she noticed how you hid your face. she chuckles at sight of it, though.

ellie stops in her tracks after some time and you look behind yourself with confusion at her actions. "els? everything okay?" your voice sound concerned. she doesn't seems sad, she looks happy. she nods with a smile. you step closer to her, now facing her. you were around the same height.

she looks deeply into your eyes with her smile remaining. you chuckle at her intensive eye contact, but not breaking it. "ellie?" she brings her right hand to your cheek that was light pink because of the winter's coldness. you feel everything around the both of you just stops. you could feel how loud and fast your heart beat is. ellie probably too.

she slowly leans closer to you, and gently presses her lips against yours. you always wondered how her lips could feel. they are soft, you finally got your answer.

the wind slowly catches up and blows your hair out of the hold of your warm scarf. she puts both of her hands on your cheeks and deepens the kiss with her love. your stomach is a mess. all the butterflies trying to escape.

she slowly pulls away and rest her forehead against yours witb her sheepish smile. you chuckle and hug her around her waist to pull her closer. everything is warm in this cold right now, you never felt like that with anyone before, ellie on the same boat.

"i wanted to do this for so long." she whispers as she holds you close. there is nothing you can do other then melt at her words and actions.

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