#and can’t stop thinking about it until i grab it for them

[banjo15]

First of all

Canada is booing us

China is booing us

Mexico is booing us

They are our 3 biggest trade partners.

Our 3 biggest trade partners hate us. Is that good for the economy?

“Hey Max, can I buy that sandwich from you? “

“Hey fuck off I know you’re just gonna tax it again”

“What about you Catie, can I buy some wood from you?”

“Fuck you and your tariff tax”

“Can I buy stuff from you, Charlie?”

“Fuck off dude stop taxing us, I hate you capitalists”

What about intersex people? I’d argue they’re a minority. Non-binary, gender-fluid, everyone of the such. They no longer exist because of you. Trans people can’t even leave the country or get a passport.

Literally a high school student I’m 15 dude. I know I couldn’t pass an immigration test, how about you go try to pass one and just come back to me?

My philosophy about illegals is back in the day our grandparents came here peacefully. If they come here peacefully in search of a better life, who am I to deny them that? But if they’re a pedo or a rapist they deserve to get shot, regardless of place of origin, gender identity, sexuality, gender, sex, religion, race, etc.

Trump literally went to Epstein island 7 times. He was best friends with Epstein. Also, did Elon apologize for his actions? No. He made Nazi puns on the internet.

Mexico and Canada is pissed off because first of all, trump said he was gonna BUY Canada.

“Yeah I’m gonna buy your house, what’s your price?”

“Not for sale.”

“You liberal boy, I bet sleepy joe and Kamala told you not to sell it, all you do is just sit down and drink maple syrup. Give me your house.”

“No? Fuck off dude”

“I’m still gonna buy your house.”

*He went up to the next neighbor*

“Also your pool is mine now.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the pool of america”

“No, my pool. Pool of Mexico.”

And Mexico is LITERALLY sending us people to help with the LA fires.

Canada is our friend, why the hell are we trade warring with our brother?

What the fuck even is MSM? I get all my thoughts from people I agree with, and then I think about my thoughts to see if I agree with them.

Denmark said Greenland is not for sale. We are literally pissing off our allies. We are a laughing stock. China is fucking BEATING in ai. “But deep seek is censored” so are all ais. Ask google’s ai if google has ever done anything wrong. And ChatGPT is also censored a decent bit.

As I said before, if you don’t hate so much why can’t they just up and leave? They can’t get a visa.

About abortion… You do know how dangerous pregnancy is right? And I don’t consider ending a pregnancy murder, would you let a tapeworm stay in you if it would turn into a human person?

The reason why women back in the 1950s had kids is because they were lobotomized and on a shit ton of “medication.” After that, they didn’t have many rights. Women couldn’t say “no” to their husbands untill 1993. It took us a bit to give women the right to vote. They couldn’t have a credit card at one point. A driver’s liscense. Lesbians were fucked at the time, do you vote for the Indian woman or the man who and I quote…. “Grab them by the pussy.” He literally called his daughter “volomptuous” and said “if she wasn’t my daughter I’d be dating her.”

You can fact check me on that. No, seriously, fact check me. Do it. I’m begging you.

And as for many cases, abortion is necessary. I’m not gonna go praising it but… it has to exist. What if they get raped? What if it’s incest? What if the pregnant person is underage? What if the pregnancy threatens their life? Denying them abortion doesn’t seem so “pro-life to me.”

“But that’s less than 1%”

So are trans people and people similar to you have campaigned to take their rights away.

Me personally I feel like they can be a man or a woman if they want to IF they don’t hurt anybody. If I gender-swapped you I’m quite sure you would want your original gender.

My argument for/agaisnt trans children is there are Christian children. I’d argue they shouldn’t go through a life changing procedure they likely won’t be able to un-do for the rest of their lives untill they’re 18/21. If children can be trans, why can they be Christian? Why can they participate in religion they’re supposed to be devoted to untill they die?”

Even then, what about single mothers? Do you want them to suffer through it? Childbirth is a punishment from god, yes? I read the Bible. Why should we punish these women for having sex? I feel like you shouldn’t have to labor a baby just because the boy from the dinner date thought you were hot, you thought they were hot, so you fucked. Imagine if men were in a coma for 9 months after sex. And there was a chance of that happening but instead.. after a baby pops out of them. I’d argue most men would get abortions and it would be a normal thing. And if god cares so much about abortions… why does he let miscarriages happen? That’s another pro-abortion talking point. Should they have an abortion if they know damn well the baby can’t survive out of the womb? And another thing, what if they can’t financially afford to have a child? “Adoption” not all kids get adopted. I was adopted and I wouldn’t have minded getting aborted to be honest dude. I know a lot of people would, friends, family, etc. I don’t support killing out of the womb though. And even then, if you care about children so much, are you willing to make safer gun laws to stop school shootings? Are you willing to donate to homeless children in need? You’re not willing to make insulin cheaper for diabetic people (and children), you’re not willing to fund cancer research (for adults and children), what are you willing to do for children?

And we can both agree that the world is a horrible place for kids, left or right.

Another thing… why the fuck would the FBI make the protests violent? If that’s your justification for that then why didn’t the FBI make the blm protest violent? Black Lives Matter was good in concept, but people looted local businesses to make a point. I still think Black Lives Matter, I just don’t really know if I should support the organization that says so.

There are J6ers who rejected their pardon. They agree that what they did was wrong, why can’t you? Even then, what about the J6ers who… Beat up a police officer? So many others beat up police, I thought you backed the blue? The whole movement was to “fight for your country.” Trump told you to… Fight. Fight. Not protest, not speak up, fight. Fight tooth and nail for your “freedom”. And if you don’t hate minorities why don’t you support DEI? And the plane crash wasn’t because of it it’s because trump FIRED everyone. Literally.

The Nazis called themselves socialists because at the time everyone loved socialism. Do Nazis fight for workers rights? Do Nazis fight for free healthcare? Do Nazis give a fuck about equality? Hell no. Nazis didn’t support a community where they have the means of production. He was a capitalist, if he was a socialist he couldn’t afford to make the wonder weapons that he usually made. If communism is socialism capitalism is facism. I’d argue that if I was a big ceo who makes a shit ton of money, would I vote for the people who tax the rich, who give workers rights, or enslaved everyone to work under me? I would vote for the slaves because I’d be a billionaire, but I’m not so I have basic empathy for people less fortunate than me. Do you?

I’d argue I could beat you up with the American flag.

Yo, correct me if I am wrong please, but didn't Hitler rise to power because he promised to fix the German economy and people really liked that so they looked past everything else he was doing??? Like exactly what's happening in America right now???

So many people said they voted for Trump, put a truly evil person in power, because he said he'd fix the economy, and a little voice in my head is going, "Isn't that what happened with fucking Hitler??"

But I've seen no one point that out so maybe I'm miss remembering???????

[nodoubtily]

riki pool smut? he's too hott for that.... btw just saw your post for ideas

IM SO SORRY THIS CAME SO LATE I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN SO UNMOTIVATED ❤️😭

TW:// sex in the pool DURRRR? SMUT so MDNI. Niki is vegan in this story, but he’s not CRAZY about it (it’s for the sake of the plot, so they can stay back and fuck, y’know?), really long, orgasming inside, unprotected sex (Wrap before you tap) hair pulling, really bad ending. Lmk if I missed anything else. OH and cursing.

Jay is also involved, playing as Reader’s brother.

Perm taglist (ask if you wanna join) - @jyikeu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby

It’s gonna be a hot ass day. That’s for sure.

So thankfully, the Airbnb your friends, your brother, yourself, and boyfriend are staying at has a pool. If you’re not all out and about, you’re all in the pool, playing every game you guys can think of.

It’s current the third day of your friend-cation, as you all call it. It’s midway through morning and you’re in the kitchen, planning your meals for the day with Jay, your brother.

“We’re going out for dinner tonight.” He tells you, pointing to the blank spot for lunch today. You nod, scribbling ‘out for dinner’ on the blank space. He nods, and he pats your shoulder, before walking to the main space, throwing himself next to all your friends. You turn to the fridge, seeing if you had the ingredients for the brunch when you feel two hands snake around your waist, pressing their front to you, him shoving his face in the crook of your neck.

“Hey baby..” Niki sighs contently, his arms caging around you tighter.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You giggle when you hear him sigh in a dramatic way.

“What are we doing today?” He asks you quietly, still tired, and you point to the list of what you’re eating and the other list of the plans today. His eyes follow your hand and he goes over, pulling you with him. You quickly close the fridge door, not being able to escape the clutch of a 6-foot-you don’t know guy.

You stand in front, him leaning over your shoulder as his hands rest on either side on the counter. He reads over the lists, and he nods. His hand grabs yours, and he leads you to where everyone else is.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Your best friend, Alice, nods to Niki, who raises his eyebrows in a greeting way.

“Morning.” He sighs, holding his arms up, bringing your hand he’s holding up with his as he stretches. You quickly stand on your tippy toes, am reaching up comfortably. Jay snorts at the sight, and you clear your throat. Niki looks at you, then your hand, his eyes widen slightly. “Oh shi-“

“I don’t want to go, baby..” Niki sulks, arms crossed as he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you pick both yours and his outfit for dinner. “Can we just stay here?” He asks for the millionth time.

You sigh for the millionth time. “For the last time. We’re booked for 6, we can’t just decide not to go. Plus, all of us are going.”

“Who said we can’t decide? We’re our own person.”

“My brother. He wants us both to go.” You retort. He scoffs.

“And since when has his word ever stopped us?” His voice drops, and he stands up, striding to you in a few long steps, until you physically feel him breathing down your neck.

“What do you mean?” Your knees shake, and standing on your two feet is more difficult then before.

“He said you’re off limits. We fucked in the backseat of my car,” Niki’s hands rake down your back, before gliding them across your waist, resting them on your hips, grasping at your skin in need. “He said we couldn’t date, but we got together three nights after he said that. He said to be quiet when we’re together. You can’t shut your pretty little mouth.” Niki’s words form a horde of butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself becoming wetter.

But you’re still sane. “No, we have to go.” You push through your thick wall of desperation, barely making it as you hand him a small, tight black dress for yourself and a cotton black button up for himself. He groans in frustration.

“Please baby. I don’t even feel that well.” He says.

“But you feel well enough to have sex with me?” You can’t hide the snort that exits your mouth.

“What can I say- you’re pussy is so good. So tight for me.”

“Shut the-“

“I don’t know what to wear. And I can’t trust you to pick a good outfit.” He’s grasping at straws.

“Then why are you letting me?” You retort. He groans again.

“I don’t even like the food we’re getting..” his voice is low, a mumble, meaning he didn’t want you to hear it. But you do, and that’s when you stop in your tracks. Fuck. He’s vegan. And won’t eat meat if he can miss it. And to be honest, you’re still full from brunch and the snacks you’ve been eating throughout the day. You’re not really hungry either. You sigh. He’s won without even knowing it.

You turn to him, making your way. You take the dress and shirt you gave to him from his hands and place them back in the closet.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, curious.

“I forgot you’re vegan.” You say, turning to him. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy cooking for majority of the day.”

“Yeah, cooking meat you didn’t fucking touch.” You hold his hands, generating all your love into that simple gesture. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?” You ask. Niki acts as if in deep thought. Then, his eyes click, turning mischievous.

“Maybe…if we stay back.” You roll your eyes. “Please, baby.”

“You’re not going to stop with this, are you?” You ask.

“Face it. You don’t want to go either.” You hate that he’s right.

“Fine! Fine, we’ll stay back. You’re telling Jay though.”

“Easy enough.” Niki shrugs.

“Absolutely not.” Jay deadpans. Niki’s jaw drops.

“Wha—!” Niki groans. “Hyung! Why can’t we?” He asks, confused.

“Oh, cause I want to leave you alone to fuck my sister? No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Why do you think we’re going to fuck. You always think that.” Niki pushes.

“Because. You always fuck.”

“No we do not!” Niki is appalled.

“Not happening, little bro.” Jay pats Niki’s shoulder, before you stop him in his tracks. You holds your phone up to his face, and he reads a message your mother sent.

Mama: Park Jongseong, you are to let your sister and Niki stay home if they want. No one stopped you when you wanted to stay back with your exes, so you have no right to stop Y/N. If she tells me that you continue to do so, do not doubt me for a second. I will drag you by the ear back home. Have fun, and don’t do anything your father would do.

Jay scoffs. “Favouritism. At the finest. Do not deny.” He points at you.

“I’m not. I know I’m the favourite.” You shrug, grabbing Niki‘a hand, leading them out of Jay’s room.

“The water looks really good.” You say, you hand scratching at the other hand. Niki places your towels on the lawn chair closest to the pool.

“Then get in.” Niki shrugs as he finally gets ready himself. He slides his shirt off, throwing it where the towels are.

“It also looks really cold.” You whine out lightly. You hear Niki chuckle behind you, and you leave it, thinking nothing of it.

That is, until he picks you up, holding you, bridal style.

“Niki! Put me down!” You yell, though your arms protectively wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him in fear of dropping.

“Nah.” He then runs to the edge, jumping into the deep end. Cold water engulfs you, spreading throughout everywhere when you break the call surface of the pool. Your body leaves his quickly, swimming to the surface, where air fills your lungs once more. Niki soon follows, sighing in relief. You hear nothing but the water moving, remembering all the other house inmates are gone out for the night. You push yourself into a swimming position, freestyling your way across to the shallow end, when you stand comfortably.

You’re chilling, until you don’t see Niki, and you call out. Then, with no warning, hands wrap around your legs, hoisting you in the air. He submerges from the water, lifting you with him.

“Niki!” You shrieked, half panicked, but also midway through giggles. “Put me down!”

“Okay.” The sneaky glint in his eyes gave away, and you get thrown back into the water. He comes straight to you, wrapping his arms against you again, strong arms snaking along your waist, holding you up, causing you to tower over him. He presses himself against you, cuddling you as you relax in his hold.

“The water feels lovely.” You say, staring up at the sky that’s darkening from a golden glow to a deep shade of blue, nearing to nighttime.

Niki hums in agreement, his mind elsewhere.

“You okay, baby?” You swipe your hands along his short strands, and he opens his eyes, which were closed as he rested his head against your half-covered breasts.

You wrap your legs around his waist comfortably, and that’s when you feel it.

“Niki-“ your voice cuts off as he begins moving, sitting on the step that runs across the whole pool, fashioned for a seat. You straddle him, your legs resting rigid against his hips. “You’re always hard-“ a moan cuts through your speech when his hands palm your ass cheeks, grinding you against him softly.

“Can you blame me when you’re my girlfriend?” He asks you, his voice soft and low and his eyes pierce through your soul. You find it hard to concentrate on whatever he had just said, as your clit comes directly into contact with his knob, a ridge that causes extra pressure, and your hips move against their own record against that ridge, causing more pleasure for both you and Niki. He quivers, before lowly cursing under his breath.

“Can I fuck you?” He becomes more desperate the longer you grind against him like that. “Baby, please, i need to be inside of you.” And you realise that you can’t find yourself to say no.

That’s how you find yourself bent over the edge of the pool, knees pressed against the step as Niki shuffled closer, his tip teasing your folds. You wiggle your hips, earning a slap to your ass cheek.

“Patience, Baby. We didn’t prep you.” His voice sings through your ears.

“I can take it. Please, Niki baby, just please fuck me- oh—!” You moan out when he slams into you, bottoming out quickly. Your pussy is pulsating, working to accommodate Niki’s cock. His tip already leaking with precum, neither of you waste much time before he begins to move, his hips finding a suitable pace, disturbing the water.

His left hand wraps your hair around it, pulling it while the other palms the concrete, finding stance. “Oh fuck- baby, squeezing me so well.” He groans, feeling your walls clenching around his thick unit. “Going to make me cum so quick.”

The water splashes between him in you, as it moves to make way for Niki’s relentless thrusts as he constantly bottoms out every time, reaching backwards enough to almost pull out just to bottom out once more, driving you crazy to the brink of your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You announce, your voice shaking as you struggle to stay upright. Niki realises, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing your back against him as his thrusts become shallow, brushing against your G-Spot, bringing you so fucking close. Then, without warning, explosions convulse through your cunt. Your thighs clench and shake, and you’re internally for Niki, who’s holding you upright.

Sooner than later, his climax rolled around, and he presses his hips right against your ass, his cock reaching into the deep depths of your pussy, his warm liquid heating you up as it seeps inside. He continuously chants while his orgasm rides out, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Panting, he pulls out quickly to prevent max overstimulation. He then falls backwards into the water, cock still out and proud as you quickly pull your bikini bottoms up. Filling him, you do the same, holding hands with him under the water.

I SUCK AT ENDINGS

[soangelbaby]

red kryptonite clark testing your boundaries and pushing you to new limits during sex . . . here’s da fic

red kryptonite clark . . . would take advantage of every single second of you breaking down for him, and he’d use it all against you, forcing you to submit to him whether you want to or not. he’s all about dominance and control, leaving no room for ifs, ands, or buts, he wants what he wants, and won’t stop until he’s satisfied. he’d overstimulate you, three orgasms in and you’re completely wrecked under him trembling, chest heaving, completely overwhelmed by the intense pleasure—so much it’s turned painful because of how sensitive you are. but clark doesn’t let up, he continues fucking you raw—pounding into you, his hands roaming your body, gripping you so tight, bruises would surely form within the next minutes. “aww,” he mocks, “are you tired already? thought you could handle me…” clark bites at your skin, “guess i overestimated you, baby.” all you can do is moan, whimper, whine, in response to his total corruption, teaching you to take him, to give in, to become his.

red kryptonite clark . . . doesn’t just want to fuck you—he wants to own you. your mind, your body, your soul, everything about you belongs to him. every little gasp, moan, all because of him. he won’t stop until he’s the only person on your mind, he wants to be sure you won’t even think about letting anyone else near you because you both know they could never do you like him. he knows your body well—too well, exactly how to make you fold, crumbling under his touch, his senses heightening your anatomy, he can feel and hear the way your heart beats faster whenever he touches you, whenever he makes you do or say things you claimed you would never, he wants it all. clark will push and push until you finally break, unable to resist him, “you think you’re in control?” his fingers tug your hair harshly, pulling you into him, “keep pushing me. you’ll give in, i’ll make sure you break, and you’ll beg me for it.” he whispers in your ear, his hand sliding down to grip your neck, tightening just enough to remind you who he is.

red kryptonite clark . . . would corrupt you. his powers give him an extreme advantage over you—as if he needed them anyway. his strength is inhuman, one hand, that’s all it takes. one hand. and your arms are pinned above your head or behind your back while his free hands roams your body, causing you to feel extremely small and exposed. he wants you to feel how powerless you are under him, manhandling you, tossing you around like you weigh nothing, one second, you’re standing. the next? you’re over his shoulder, his palm landing on your ass with a sharp smack as he carries you effortlessly. “you struggle too much,” he mutters. “maybe i should fix that.” he loves how delicate you feel beneath him, how easy he can manipulate your body however he wants. his chest pressed against yours, completely caging you in, “i could do anything to you… and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” you know you can’t overpower him, and he will always make sure you remember that.

red kryptonite clark . . . loves to ruin you, to make you into such a pretty mess for him. he grips your hair harshly, fucking up whatever cute style you had that day—demolished by him. tugging your cute and carefully picked hair clips or scrunchies, throwing them to the ground like they mean nothing, the second he sees you, he shakes his head, grinning, “you really thought this was gonna last?” he pulls it apart slowly, ensuring you feel him, you understand he’s in control of every single moment, if you try to stop him, he just grabs your wrists, swatting you away, “uh-uh, you’re mine, i want you looking exactly how i left you.” and if you get upset? if you pout? he enjoys it even more, tilting his head like he’s so amused by your reaction, “aw you upset?” clark taunts, gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “thought you looked cute? trust me baby, you look so better like this.” and he would make you see what he did, dragging you to a mirror, standing behind you, “go on, take a good look. that little style? gone. all that effort? wasted.” he’d murmur in your ear, fingers digging into your waist, “and why? because i wanted it that way.” and if you refuse to acknowledge it? man, he will force you. his large arm snaking around your stomach, the other tightening on the back of your neck, “no, you don’t get to ignore this. look at what i did to you.” and he won’t hesitate to double down, if you squirm or fight.

red kryptonite clark . . . doesn’t just want your submission, he wants to see you fall apart. leaving you sore, aching, bruised, he wants to see that moment you’re too far gone but too hooked to walk away. he loves seeing that struggle in your eyes, that brief flicker of defiance before it vanishes completely. it excites him, turns him on, knowing you’re trying so hard to hold on, but you’re slipping, and it’s only a matter of time before you fall into the abyss he’s created for you. “you’re so close, aren’t you?” clark’s voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “i can see it, feel it, hear it, trying so hard to hold onto whatever left of you.” his every move, every touch is deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge. it’s a game to him—watching you crumble, feeling the tension build, knowing it won’t be long before you’re completely lost in him. “you’re slipping, baby. you’re already mine, and you love it.” the rush that hits him when you finally surrender, when you realize you’re no longer in control, is almost euphoric, more than just a power trip—it’s knowing you’ll never be the same after this. that feeling of ownership is addictive to him. you’re no longer a challenge; you’re a conquest, and with every step you take toward your breaking point, he feels that pull in his chest, that unrelenting satisfaction and he savors every moment of it.

★ rini’s note ; can yall hear me barking???? yeah u hear it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this man this mannnnn i cant even think straight jist need him to corrupt me pls !!! will beg for it !!!! likez and reblogz are sooo sexc so show me sum luv <3

[xoxochb]

hey! could you please do something with Percy like anything about reader biting her nails? maybe it's like a nervous habit OT something!

writing this as I am subconsciously biting my nails like my life depends on it… LOL

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“shit.”

you pull your finger away from your mouth in agony, revealing your broken nail and the blood that comes with it. it hurts.

from the other side of the bed, percy notices your dismay. he mirrors your expression (without the brewing tears) and hurriedly sits up, taking your hand into both of his.

“oh, sweet girl…” he runs his thumb over your bleeding nail— until you wince and he pulls away quickly without another thought. “stay here, I’ll be right back.”

he smooths out your hair and places a kiss to your forehead before leaving to the bathroom. he arrives back seconds later with a bandaid in his hand.

he takes his previous seat, undoing the package before grabbing your hand and wrapping the bandaid around your hurt finger, placing the gentlest of kisses to your nail as to not hurt you, but still comforting you.

you take a shaky inhale and let teardrops fall over your cheeks. percy is quick to kiss them away, keeping your hand in his as he rubs the back of it.

“don’t cry, you’re okay, sweet girl.”

you shake your head. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“I know,” he whispers and kisses your forehead again, letting his lips rest there. “I know. I’m not mad at you.”

you exhale slowly, closing your eyes and settling into percy’s touch. his lips part from your head, lifting your hand up and kissing your finger again, then your palm and your wrist before entwining your fingers with his.

“I don’t want to do it anymore. but I can’t stop.”

“it’s okay— you’ll be okay, I promise you, sweet girl.” you nod. he plants a kiss to your mouth this time. “I’ll even let you bite my finger if you want to.”

you crack a ghost of a smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me.”

you throw him an unamused look. but you take his opposite hand to the one holding yours and begin to nibble at the tips of his fingers. you like his hands more than your own, there’s more flesh to them to chew than your own nimble fingers.

and his fingers are calloused around your tongue. it makes your tummy feel fluttery with the opportunities and remembrance of where else these very fingers had been. your tear-stained cheek flush pink. you remove his fingers from your mouth.

“I think I’m done…”

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Lean On Me

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: minor emergency room situation, injury, fluffy x100, allusions to smut, a lil more coach!steve harrington

author's note: definitely did not write this one clocked in at my desk…i just can’t stay away from these guys.  this is not proofread so please be gentle if there are any mistakes :) also, i’m no medical professional so i’m not exactly sure if this is how one would treat a bruised foot…just go with it. ALSO!!! I had to give our art teacher a last name, and the polls chose 'Ms. Heart.' cute right?

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 3.9k

Ms. Heart🎨: The kids are saying they saw Coach Harrington carrying you out to the parking lot…tell me they’re kidding

Mr. Munson🎸: “Carrying” is an exaggeration…

You see the “Incoming FaceTime Call” notification pop up on the screen of your phone and hurry to shut your classroom door.  Even though it’s nearing the end of the day, and this is technically your planning period, sometimes kids still like to come in and hang out in your classroom.  You had a feeling that Eddie wouldn’t want any students around to hear this call though.

Your anxiety is momentarily forgotten when you see his handsome face on your screen after answering the FaceTime call.  Even after almost three weeks of knowing him, it still surprises you how gorgeous the man is.  You’re focused on the curve of his sexy grin, but you can't help but notice the subtle winces peaking through it.   You can tell he’s in the passenger seat of a truck, Steve’s truck you’re guessing, and your theory is confirmed when the man in question grabs the phone from Eddie’s hands and puts it up to his face.

“Well hello there Ms. Art Teacher!  You’ll never guess what your guy got himself into now–wait a second,” he turns to look at Eddie with an appalled expression ,”Why is your lady’s name in your phone ‘Ms. Heart’?” 

Eddie snatches his phone back from Steve’s hands and can barely hear the sound of you laughing from the other end.  You and him both know that you put your names in each other's phones as your ‘teacher names,’ just in case someone were to see a notification and get suspicious.  You still have yet to go public with your new relationship, and Eddie is counting down the days until he can let everyone know you’re his girl.

“Will you stop calling her ‘my lady’? You sound like a douche.”

Steve lets out a triumphant laugh. “Yeah, right.  This douche is getting laid on the regular pal.  I’ll hear your opinions on my vocabulary when you can say the same.”

Eddie looks back at your face on his screen, noticing how you’re blushing at Steve’s words.  He throws you a wink, just to see your reaction, and he isn’t disappointed.  You turn even redder and throw your free hand over your face to cover your smile.  

Steve’s words don’t bother you exactly, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been devoting a lot of time to thinking about whether or not Eddie cares that the two of you haven’t slept together yet.  It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you want to.  You’ve been wanting to climb that man like a tree since the moment he first spoke to you at orientation.  There just hasn’t been time to even approach that topic with the school year starting and the craziness of it all.  

You and Eddie are smiling bashfully at each other through the screen when he grunts in pain.  The phone shakes at the same time, and you remember that Steve is driving Eddie somewhere.

“Fuck, man.  Can you try not to drive into every pothole you see?”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah sure.  Lemme just swerve around them and into all the other cars on the road.  Then we’d both be injured.”

Both? Both? Meaning one of them already is?

“Eddie?” you ask.  He can tell by the sound of the question that you're on the verge of panic, so he smiles at you through the screen.

“Yes, sweet girl?”  You can hear Steve’s fake gag in the background at Eddie’s use of the pet name for you, but it doesn’t stop the lovesick smile from trying to make its way onto your lips.

Eddie finds it particularly entertaining to try out all the different pet names on you to see which ones will make you blush the hardest.  He says he keeps an Excel spreadsheet so he can track the data…but you’re pretty sure he’s lying.  Okay, maybe 75% sure.

You point a finger at him sternly. “Quit trying to distract me.  Tell me what’s going on please.”  Eddie would have to be a fool to resist your sweet request, so he gives in. 

“There may have been a little incident while I was putting away equipment after 6th period…”

Steve guffaws, “Yeah, I’ll say.  Your man dropped a 40 pound speaker on his foot!”  Eddie’s hand slaps to his forehead with a groan, he had planned on breaking the news a little gentler to you, and perhaps in a way that didn’t make him look like a total idiot.

Your mouth drops in horror, “What?”

Eddie instantly jumps into trying to calm you down, “Honey, it’s really not that bad–”

“���I heard a crunch!”

“Steve!  Please.”

You take a deep, grounding breath.  “Eddie, just talk please.”

Eddie reaches over to smack Steve before speaking.  “Steve was in my classroom because we were planning on moving a couple speakers out to the fields for the game tonight.  The one I was carrying slipped and landed a little bit on my foot, that’s all.”  He tries his best to speak calmly to keep you from panicking, but it’s hard to ignore the throbbing pain in his right foot.  

“Eddie!  Are you okay?  How bad does it hurt?”  You wish you were with him instead of pacing around in your empty classroom. 

“I can barely feel it sweetheart, I’d rate it a three out of ten.”

Steve scoffs loudly, “Okay buddy, that’s not what it sounded like when I was carrying your ass out of school.”

Eddie turns to fix Steve with a glare, “I still had one foot on the ground, dude.  You were not carrying me.”  He turns back to look at your face through the screen, “He wasn’t carrying me.”  

You hear Steve laughing off screen and Eddie rolls his eyes.  You can’t help but to laugh a little too at the absurdity of it all.  “Where are you heading to?”

“We’re going to the ER.  Personally, I think that’s a little dramatic, but mama bear over here…”

Steve passionately chimes in, “It’s important to treat every injury with the same level of seriousness, even the minor ones!” 

“I actually agree with him on this one, Ed.” you say with a soft smile.  Eddie swoons internally.

He’s able to overlook your choice of Steve’s side due to your use of the nickname.  You’ve been a bit hesitant about using pet names with him the way he does with you, but you’ve assured him time and time again that it’s only because you’ve never dated a guy who actually liked any of that stuff before.  You’re working your way up to Eddie’s level of nicknames, and ‘Ed’ has been a recent development in that process.  Eddie loves it.  

“Gimme the phone man,” Steve’s hand juts into the screen expectantly, swiping the phone from Eddie’s grasp.  “Hey Ms. Artsy, do you think you’ll be able to give this guy a ride back home? Our first home game is in a couple hours, and the boys can’t play without their coach.”

You had almost forgotten about the football game tonight.  Your students had been amped up all day long about it, convincing you to help them paint signs to hold up at the game during class time.  You were planning on asking Eddie if he wanted to go, but you weren’t sure how he felt about attending a school event together.  The status of your relationship wasn’t necessarily a secret, but still not very many people knew.  

“Of course I can!  I just have to clean up a bit and I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, teach.” Steve hands the phone back to Eddie, who’s been sulking in the passenger seat because he missed your face. 

You smile at him, “Hang tight, I’ll see you soon okay?”

Eddie smiles, “Okaayyy–!” His voice cuts off in a pained grunt before the call ends, leading you to assume that Steve had once again hit a pothole.  

-

You’re a ball of nerves as you pull in to park outside of the emergency room.  Thankfully, you’re the type of person who keeps their car relatively clean, but that didn’t stop you from doing a once over just to make extra sure there wasn’t any mess.  Why were you so anxious to drive with Eddie?  Maybe the stress from the past hour just has you wound extra tight.

Nervous as you may be, you can’t help but to walk with a bounce in your step as you approach the entrance.  Seeing Eddie is always the highlight of your day, and you couldn’t wipe the growing grin off your face if you tried.  You just hope he isn’t in too much pain, your heart lurches at the thought of him being hurt in any way.

Thanks to impeccable timing, you spot Eddie and Steve walking down the hallway you’ve just entered into.  You notice the papers in Steve’s hands, and the crutches that Eddie is already seemingly irritated by.  Your eyes meet as he looks up, and the crease between his furrowed eyebrows is gone in an instant as a smile lights up his face.  Steve can’t help but smile along as he watches Eddie hobble a little faster on his crutches towards you. 

God, he missed you today.  He loves the color of the top you’re wearing, the way your jeans hug your thighs, the curve of your smile, and he might just love you too, although he probably shouldn’t tell you that part just yet.  

Steve checks his watch for the hundredth time since he and Eddie had arrived at the ER, running a hand through his hair anxiously.  He hands you the papers the doctor gave them with care instructions and pain medication prescriptions before you can even say hello.

“Okay, team.  Kick-off is in thirty minutes, and I gotta jet.”  He looks to you, already in ‘coach’ mode.  “Here are the papers from the doctor, the do’s and don'ts for a bruised foot bone, care instructions, ya-da ya-da.  His prescription can be picked up after 6, there’s a pharmacy around the corner that’s open til 10.”  

You take the papers from him and nod your head, trying to commit all the information to memory.

“Wish me luck guys!”  Steve jogs away, fist pumping the air. “Go Tigers!”

You turn to face Eddie, the both of you wearing matching smiles and shaking your heads at Steve’s theatrics.  You move a bit closer to Eddie, yearning for a hug but not sure if it’s a good idea.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie grins, “Can a hurt guy get a hug? I’m not able to hug you back at this moment but I’ll make it up to you later.”

You step into his space and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest and breathing him in.  How does he still smell so good after teaching all day long?  

He rests his cheek on the top of your head, wondering the same thing about you.  How could someone’s hair possibly be this soft and smell this amazing?  This.  This is what he’s been waiting for all day long.  God, you feel so good pressed against him like this.  If he wasn’t such a gentleman, he’d let the stirring of his cock in his jeans distract him from the pain in his foot, but unfortunately the two of you are still standing in the middle of the ER.  

“Shall we?” 

“Yup!” You reluctantly pull away from his warmth and move to his side to walk with him. You notice him holding his black Dr. Marten’s boot by its laces in one of his hands, then you look down to see his right foot, heavily wrapped in tan bandages.  

“Be honest, does it hurt?” you ask as you take his boot from him so that he can have a better grasp on his crutch.

Eddie sighs, hanging his head.  “I mean, it’s definitely throbbing still.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You reach up to brush a stray curl out of Eddie’s face, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch like a dog when you use that tone of voice.

You hope he’ll let you take him back to your house instead of his own.  The idea of taking care of him and doting on him has you smiling already.  

“Wanna go back to my house?” Eddie feels his ears perk up at the thought of getting to go to your house again. “I can take you back to yours to get some clothes and stuff, but I don’t like the idea of leaving you there alone when you can’t drive yourself.”

Eddie knows he wouldn’t necessarily be alone, but having Steve Harrington as a roommate often feels like living alone.  Not in a bad way of course, it’s just that Steve is rarely ever at home unless he’s with a woman for the night or hungover in the morning.  

“You sure you want me at your place all weekend long?” Eddie’s giving you an out.  He’s fully aware that the two of you haven’t spent the night together before, and the last thing he wants you to think is that he expects anything from you. 

“Why wouldn’t I? We’ll be super lazy together.  We can watch movies, eat junk food, take naps…it’ll be awesome.”  You look up at him with a giddy smile and Eddie knows he would agree to anything you said. 

“Sounds perfect,” he murmurs against your forehead before pressing two kisses there.

“I parked just ahead in the front row, I didn’t want you to have to go very far but I can still pull the car up here if you feel like you don’t want to go that far.  You must be exhausted.”

He feels his chest warm, you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.  “I’ll be fine, baby.  I can make it.”  He has to work hard to focus on operating his crutches and not your sweet smile, it would be very un-cool of him to fall flat on his face in this parking lot right now.

He manages to make it all the way to your car, putting his crutches in your backseat and hopping over to the passenger side.  You make sure to open the door for him, not moving until you’re sure he’s safe in the seat and buckled up.  You hope he doesn’t think your hovering is annoying.

Eddie thinks your hovering is adorably sweet.  

As soon as you get in and start the car, Eddie asks to see your phone.

“Sure,” you fish it from your purse and hand it to him, “Passcode is 0102.  You gonna DJ?”

“Nope, your car, your tunes honey.  I’m just putting in my address so you know where you’re going.”

“I remember where you live, Ed,” you giggle.  “I’ve been to your place before, remember?”

Of course he remembers, you let him cook you dinner twice and both times you fell asleep in each other’s arms halfway through ‘Back To The Future.’  Maybe this weekend you’ll finally be able to finish it.

“Well, alrighty then.  I’m sorry I ever doubted you, my lady.” You laugh at his dramatics and reverse out of the parking space.

“You’d be wise to never do it again, good sir,” you reply in a medieval accent similar to the one Eddie spoke in.  He’s thankful that you’re distracted by navigating yourself out of the parking lot and not able to see the way his face flushes and his jeans tighten around his groin at your reciprocated dramatics.  You’re so hot when you talk nerdy to him.  You’re so hot all the time.

Eddie sits back and takes in the image of you driving, one he’s never seen before.  He chuckles a bit at how proper you’re sitting, back straight and hands at ten and two on the wheel.  

“Ease up, baby.  You’re not being graded right now,” he laughs.

You laugh along, a little embarrassed. “I know, I drive like a dork.”  You look over at him, exasperated.  “I just don’t feel prepared if I’m slouching or driving one handed!  You never know what could happen.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Steve “Mama Bear” Harrington,” he teases.

You scoff and roll your eyes, still smiling.

“Can you put on some music please?  Driving without it weirds me out.”

“Sure,” Eddie chuckles, opening up the ‘Spotify’ app on your phone. “Uh-oh, look who’s in the hot seat now.  Time to take a peek at your ‘On Repeat.’”

You laugh but hold your head up proudly.  “Peek away Mr. Munson.  I’ve got nothing to hide, I am who I am.”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” Eddie mumbles as he locates the playlist and hits shuffle.  He can’t believe his ears when the opening chords to ‘One Of These Nights” by Eagles play from your speakers.  His head snaps up towards you, and you can’t help but to burst out laughing at the bewildered look on his face.

“You know, I actually feel like a total asshole right now.  This is an amazing song.” He looks at you like he’s proud of you, and your chest feels warmer.

By the time the song is nearing its end, Eddie’s trying to catch his breath from attempting to hit the highest notes and you’re breaking your “ten and two” rule by clutching your stomach because you’ve been laughing so hard that it hurts. 

Eddie vaguely recognizes the next song as a showtune, but doesn’t comment on it because he’s too caught up in you.  

You, still laughing out loud with your widest smile and the setting sun outlining your silhouette in a golden-orange glow.  He can’t believe he’s in your car, that you’re driving him around, the goddess that you are.  You’re ethereal.  Other-worldly.  

You’re starting to look concerned.  

After coming down from your laughing fit, you turn to find Eddie staring at you with a dazed and confused look in his eye.  Being that he’s fresh out of the Emergency Room, you’re instantly a bit concerned for his well being.  

“Eddie?  Are you feeling okay?”

He blinks a few times before responding, “S-sorry, it’s just…you are so goddamn beautiful.”

Will you ever get used to this floaty warm feeling in your chest?  Luckily for you, he says this while you pull your car into his driveway.  You put the car into park, and lean your head back onto the headrest, no doubt sporting a smile that’s as lovesick as you feel.  

You look at him and whisper, “Thank you.”  Shy fingers reach out to take his hand that rests on your center console, and he’s quick to hold on tight.  Without breaking eye contact with you, Eddie brings your hand up to his mouth and presses two warm kisses to your knuckles.  He then uses that hand to pull you towards him, stopping when your faces are only inches apart.  

“Thank you for driving me,” he whispers, unable to look away from your soft lips.  

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, wishing he would just kiss you already. 

Eddie’s loving the effect he has on you.  He notices your chest rising and falling faster, the breathy tone of your voice, the darkness taking over your eyes.  

He finally leans in and presses his lips to yours gently.  This kiss is much softer than your first one, there’s no urgency or tenacity.  This kiss lets you know that there will be many more to come.  You can’t remember a time where you’d been handled any gentler than this.  Eddie’s holding your face like you’re a rare jewel, like you’re priceless and valuable, and he kisses you like he’s trying to worship you.  

It feels like your lips are dancing together, this feels practiced and choreographed and natural.  

You’re so going to fall in love with this man. 

He pulls away after what could’ve been five hours or five seconds, either way it’s far too soon.  Your mouth chases his lips, making him chuckle softly as he drops kisses onto your nose, cheeks, forehead and chin.

You smile, thoroughly enjoying being doted on like this.  

Eddie backs away once and for all, smoothing your hair out of your face with both hands, his smile matching yours.  

“So pretty.”

You blush harder, if it’s even possible, and let out a happy sigh.  

And with both hands on either side of your face, Eddie obviously uses this opportunity to smush your cheeks together so that your lips pucker. 

“Even prettier,” He leans forward and plants one on you, “Let’s get inside, I can hear my bed calling our names.”

He quickly corrects himself when he sees your eyes widen, “F-for a nap!  I’m tired, you’re probably tired.  Nap time.”

Eddie is sure he’s totally mortified you until he spots you trying to hide your bashful smile and pink cheeks as you undo your seatbelt and get out of the car.  Maybe you’d be into more than nap time?  Why the fuck did he call it ‘nap time’?  

You’re an idiot, Eddie.  That’s why.  She’s not going to fuck you while you have a stupid bruised and use words like ‘nap time.’

He’s still shaking his head at himself when you open the passenger door, looking at him expectantly.  Oh that’s right, you’re going to help him hobble to his own front door, because he’s an idiot who dropped a goddamn amp on his fucking foot.

Eddie hits his head backwards on the headrest with a sigh, “I feel so un-cool right now.”

The sound of your laugh eases his pain a little.

“You’ll live.  C’mon, big boy,”  You chuckle, smirking and looking down on him from where you stand outside your car.  

You open the door to the backseat to grab his crutches and your purse, and Eddie starts to question himself as he feels his dick twitch at your use of the new nickname.  Perhaps it’s something the two of you can explore down the line…he needs to stop thinking about sex with you or else he’ll pop a very obvious boner and scare you off.  

A quick recalling of the mental image that’s seared into his mind of Mrs. Bedson, the 57 year old choir teacher, bumping and grinding with the tennis coach at last year’s prom does the trick.  Eugh.  Eddie shivers at the memory.  

You pop back up with his crutches under your arm, reaching your other one down to help him up.  He doesn’t need the help, but he takes your hand anyway because it feels so right to hold it. 

You unlock his front door with his keys, and then the two of you head inside.  After placing your purse on one of the hooks in the entryway while simultaneously toeing your shoes off, you turn to him with a teasing smile.

“Nap time?”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah.  Nap time.”

TAGLIST:

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[butterflywingswrites]

reposting all my anon fics in one place. enjoy 🤗

(running out of fics, send asks)

revenge sex with caitlin part 2

you made out with caitlin and ran your fingers through her soft hair

“does your boyfriend kiss you like this?”

“no” she whimpered out between kisses “you’re better”

“i’ll show you how much better i can be” you kissed down her neck, biting and leaving marks to show how good you were making her feel. you grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off over her head. you raised your eyes at caitlin’s lacy bra underneath

“cait were you planning this?”

“well i wore it just in case” she said shyly “i wanted to be pretty for you”

“you’re always pretty” you put your hands under her bra and started massaging her tits, making sure her nipples were getting the attention they clearly weren’t getting before. with your hands still in her bra, you started kissing down her abs. you always loved when she showed off her abs and now you got the privilege to kiss them. you moved your hands out of her bra to pull her pants off

“matching set? damn caitlin you really did plan this” she looked absolutely stunning in her lacy set, but she covered her face as if she were embarrassed

“i just wanted to be prepared” she squeaked out

“babygirl don’t be shy. i love it. you look so sexy. but i want them off now” you tugged her underwear off her hips. you paused for a bit, potentially a second too long

“what’s wrong? do you not want me? we can stop—“

“you’re gorgeous and i want you” it was your turn to cut her off “i’m just thinking about how i want you. do you want my fingers or my tongue?”

“mhmm both” she moaned out. clearly she’s been deprived of the sexual attention she needs

“whatever you want my pretty girl” you rubbed two fingers on her clit, gently testing out how she wanted to be touched. she responded well to that so you continued while moving her bra cup to the side. you placed a gentle kiss on her hard nipple then flicked it with your tongue. caitlin let out a soft whimper

“more” you flicked her nipple with your tongue again

“do you want me to suck on your pretty nipples?” instead of answering, caitlin just pushed your head against her chest. you gently sucked on her nipple while continuing to rub circles on her clit. the sexy moans and whimpers that left her mouth were leaving you soaked. caitlin tugged on your hair aggressively, signaling that she was close

“feels so good don’t stop” her begging turned you on even more. you kept going until she came on your fingers

“that’s it, let go babygirl” you let her ride out her orgasm on your fingers and kissed her

“fuck that was so good” caitlin said breathlessly

“i’m not done with you yet” you kissed her again “i still need to taste you” you moved your head down her body so you could eat her out properly. the way she deserves

you placed her thighs over your shoulders and moaned when you saw how wet she was. you took your time kissing her pretty thighs, enjoying the moment. when you got to her pussy you gave her a slow lick up her entrance

“fuck caitlin”

“what’s wrong? do i not taste good?” caitlin confused your words of pleasure for distaste

“no babygirl. he never tells you, does he? you taste so fucking good. i can’t wait to eat that pretty pussy” you started to lick her slowly, trying to build anticipation for her and savor the taste for yourself

“i need more” caitlin put her hands in your hair and tugged. you quickened your tongue to try and give her what she wanted. the soft moans that left her mouth told you she was getting it. you brought your thumb to her clit, already sensitive from the first orgasm you gave her. when your thumb made contact, her thighs tightened around your head. her moans got louder and you knew she was close. with a loud moan and a tug at your hair, caitlin came on your tongue. you lapped gently at her pussy, cleaning her up while trying to memorize her taste

“i bet he doesn’t make you cum like that” you smirked. caitlin was totally fucked out

“no. he doesn’t make me cum even half as good as that. not even a quarter as good” she admitted

“don’t worry babygirl, i’ll always be here to make you feel good”

[theapangea]

Pure Intentions

Pairing/Characters: College!Lip Gallagher x innocent northside!reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Your freshman experience in college isn’t exactly how you imagined but when Lip Gallagher invites you to your first college party, he has anything but pure intentions.

Warning: Protected sex, p in v, fingering, kissing, 18+, minors dni

A/N: Does everything I write for Lip lead to smut??? The answer is yes…the answer is always YES. I just can't help it, especially with an innocent reader. Ugh, Lip is just perfect for these moments. I hope you all enjoy ;). Hope you enjoy the long fic. Thank you so much for supporting my work, love ya!! All mistakes are mine.

*Also posted on AO3: theapangea*

Masterlist

Rough really isn't the word that you’d use. Uneventful, maybe? Bland…dull…boring. Really any of these words would suffice.

Your first few weeks at college were boring.

It almost pains you to actually admit that to yourself. But when the other students talk about parties and drinking and hooking up…you can’t help it that you over analyze all the things you are doing wrong with your college life. 

Isn’t college supposed to be when your life officially starts? When you have this new found freedom. The part in your life for experiencing and experimenting. Wow, even the thought of experimenting puts a nervous knot in your belly. Your eyes sweep the buzzing classroom as if to check if anyone is tuning into your radio waves. 

Relaxing into your seat, the minutes ticking by until the start of class and you are thinking about sex…well trying not to think about it…not that you really think about it at all. And the only reason that this is at the forefront of your mind is because the two boys to your right are talking about it…in public…at 9am.  

You can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation because they sure as hell aren’t being quiet about it. You’re only one seat away from them, of course you’d be able to hear their conversation. You just wish they would keep it to themselves or at least when no one else is around. 

But since they both can’t seem to be quiet for more than a couple of seconds, then you will have to endure the lovely discussion. Thankfully, the second you start to silently plead for them to stop, they do. Switching the topic to a frat party going on later tonight. 

A Wednesday night frat party?

Is that what you’re missing in your college life? Getting black-out drunk on a school night. The first though that runs through your head is why? But a second, slightly quieter voice grabs your attention…the little voice in your head that is screaming of envy. That is tingling every fiber in your body, pleading with itself to go to the party. To experience anything other than the mundane, than the boring. But it isn’t like you to go to parties, or to even know how to ask more questions to attempt to go to the party. The sex discussion is starting to sound more appealing than the conflicting fighting going on inside your head.

And when you think, it can’t get anymore annoying, suddenly there is another third voice. One you don’t recognize. Realizing quickly that the voice isn’t inside your head after all. 

You aren’t completely sure if the confused look on your face or the stuttering over your words gave it away that you didn’t hear what the boy next you said at all. Because not only does he repeat himself but he also leans across the desk to get closer to you.

“You going to the party at Sigma Chi later?”

The boy speaking to you is Lip. You’ve come to know his name and just a little bit about him over the past several weeks. Nothing extraordinary other than a simple exchanging of names and hometowns. Turns out you are both from Chicago, just opposite the tracks from each other. Lip was one of those southside kids who was gifted enough to go to college and you were one of those northside kids who didn’t have a choice.

You’re unsure really how to respond to his question. Eventually landing on just shrugging your shoulders with an indecisive smile. 

“Why, north-siders don’t go to parties?” 

Sure they do. Don’t they? They must. Right?

To be honest, you aren’t really sure because you’ve never been to one. High school is not far off from college in terms of experiences. You were are a quiet kid and you’ve slowly had to come to terms with the fact that you’ve fallen a little behind. 

“You should come.” Lip smiles, his comment bouncing around your head.

You tuck the fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “I don’t know…” The words drift into the space that separates the two of you. 

“It’ll be fun.” Emphasizing the last word. Does he even realize that he’s biting his bottom lip right now?

“I don’t know anyone who’s going.” You are hesitant to speak, the pitch of your voice doesn’t sound quite right coming out of your mouth. 

“You know me.”

And with those three little words, the whole day becomes a haze. 

You end up exchanging phone numbers with Lip before the start of class. He texts you the address with a little smiley face emoticon. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs on your face the rest of the day. Following you from class to class, on your walk home and the whole entire time you spend getting ready. 

You are actually going to a college party. A boy invited you to a college party. Are you supposed to start screaming now or should you wait until afterwards? You honestly cannot decide. 

Gripping onto the strap on your tiny purse as you stand outside of the large home. Dozens of students streaming in and out, laughing, yelling. Your eyes don’t know where to look first as you take the first couple of steps into the house.

It’s quite exhilarating, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as the music fills your ears. You see some familiar faces and are able to muster up a small wave too but are overwhelmed by the number of people you don’t know. You are a little fish in the sea of sharks, knowing that any one of these animals can rip you to shreds. Which is oddly making this night much for exciting. 

Making your way into the large living area, the sea of students grinding on one another in the middle and shouting from a beer-pong game in the corner can be heard clearly over the blaring music. You stick closely to the walls, hoping in some way to disappear into the striped paper. Merely wanting to observe what really goes on at a college party, unsure if you will actually be able to participate in any way. This party is so far out of your comfort zone that it feels like you have been transported to another planet.

But this is what college is all about, right? Getting out of your comfort zone, participating in new experiences, living a little. The sad fact is that you just don’t know how. It’s scary, standing here by yourself, with no one to help shield you from the chaos. You cross your arms around your waist, shielding yourself from all of it. You feel completely out of place and are starting to feel like maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. 

It’s as if Lip is conjured out of thin air, being able to hear your silent pleads from across the house, when you finally see him squeeze his way through the horde of drunk students. His lazy smile brings you a tiny shred of hope that you are not alone. 

When he finally reaches you, he hands you a red cup filled with some unknown liquid. You raise an eyebrow at him, silently questioning the contents of the drink.

He laughs, leans into you, his hot breath on your ear, “Don’t worry, it’s just water.”

Your body physically reacts to his closeness by going weak in the knees, thankful that you have the wall behind you to hold yourself up right. But you still can’t help but feel like you're falling when he doesn’t move away, even after you take a drink of clear liquid. 

“I’m glad you came tonight.” The music is loud but not so loud that he needs to be this close to you and he knows it too. Your eyes lock together as if some unspoken words are being exchanged between the two of your bodies that you mind is too slow or too incompetent to understand. 

“I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun.” You playfully throw his words from earlier back at him. 

His laugh is radiant. The hot air coating your skin as he leans against the wall with his shoulder, just staring at you. A slow heat begins to grow in your cheeks under his stare. Shifting the plastic cup between your hands as your palms grow sweatier. 

You’ve never had someone look at you this way before. His blue eyes boring into yours, searching for all the answers to who you truly are. Sure, you can smell the alcohol on Lip’s breath but you can tell he isn’t drunk. You can sense that this mutual feeling is engulfing the both of you. The air around you both becomes increasingly warmer as he inches closer to you. 

His left hand reaches out for yours, his fingertips lightly touching yours, tapping them to the beat of the music. You can tell he is testing the waters, seeing if you will pull away or not. You cannot fathom the thought of ever pulling away from his touch.

Lip finally intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gently as he pushes himself off of the wall and starts to walk backwards, pulling you along with him. Leaving the half-empty red cup forgotten on an end table. 

“Where are we going?” You giggle, a wide smile engulfing your features. 

“Just trust me.” He pulls you into the crowd of dancing classmates.

“Trust you? I barely know you.” You retort quickly as he pulls you against him, settling his hands on your hips as your arms instinctively wrap over his shoulders.

“Good.” He winks and you laugh and everything just feels so right in this moment.

Coming to this party was starting to feel like the beginning of your story, the beginning of getting over your fears of being left behind, of being forgotten by those your own age. Lip saw you in a crowd full of people, he chose you to be the one to dance with. 

In the middle of this packed living room, you and Lip are tangled in your own world. The air is thick with sweat, laughter, and a buzz that is emanating off the two of you. Your eyes lock with Lips, and for just a second, the chaos of your surroundings disappears. Leaving the two of you, embracing the spark that is traveling between your bodies.

Your heart begins to beat faster, the beat of the music pumping the muscle along as Lip pulls you closer. Your breaths mingle in the small shared space, with yours periodically halting when Lip’s hands curve around your waist, his fingertips brushing against the exposed skin on the small of your back.

And it’s within that touch, that gentle, meaning touch that something inside of your switches. That this simple moment between you and Lip is starting to mean something more, something real, something that you can reach out and hold between your hands. This isn’t some little fling that either of you are going to regret in the morning, everything at this moment is pure and intentional.

For the second time tonight, the music and crowd slowly fades away. It really is just you and Lip in a room full of sweaty people and you don’t seem to mind because you are with him. 

The song ends after a single moment, but neither of you seem to be able to move. You’re still held in his embrace, the same breath being exchanged between the two of you, when Lip dips his head. His mouth crashing into yours, filled with passion and need. 

One of his hands travels to your cheek while the other keeps you in position against his hard body. A slow burning fire spreads between you, lips moving together so perfectly as you fall into a gentle rhythm. The taste of him is so overwhelming, this new experience of kissing someone is more than you could have imagined. If you knew this was how this night was going to go then you may have stayed home, and you can’t help but feel so happy you didn’t. 

When Lip finally pulls away, it’s only enough to let some cold air mingle in the hot space between your mouths. 

You smile, your lips still tingling with remembrance of the kiss, looking into Lip’s eyes, “Should we…um, go somewhere else?”

You can’t believe those words just left your mouth. You asking a guy to go somewhere else is definitely not on your bingo card for the night. To be honest, none of what is happening was on your bingo card. This night was exceeding your expectations with each passing moment. 

Lip nods his head, a panting yes escapes him. 

Lip’s rough hands trail over your arms, leaving a wake of fire in its path. His hand intertwines with yours as he leads you out of the sweaty crowd to a more secluded area where the two of you can be alone. 

You can’t even begin to describe the way your body is buzzing right now, the nerves, the adrenaline pumping through your veins is the only thing making you stand up right. You have some idea what was going to happen when you and Lip enter a vacant room. You were sheltered but you aren’t that sheltered, you just haven’t ever had sex with anyone before.

This was your first time and maybe it wasn’t going to be in the most special place, but you can feel that it is going to be with someone so special. Your heart beats loudly in your ears as the music starts to fade into the background as you climb the staircase behind Lip.

He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently as he pulls you towards the direction of some rooms. Punching a code into one of the doors furthest from the stairs. The lock clicks and Lip steps aside so you are able to enter first.

The room is clean, thankfully. A large bed takes up most of the space under three bay windows. A desk is adjunct to the wall the door is on. As you step inside, you start to realize that this isn’t some random room, but Lip’s room. This realization lets you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You are silently thanking anyone out there for not having your first time be in some randos bed. 

You aren’t quite sure what you do now that you are standing in Lip’s room. The adrenaline is starting to wear off and the nerves are shooting through your limbs. It will be any second now where you will start to overthink this whole thing and may ruin it before it can even begin. But this is something that you desperately want to experience in college, something that you want to experience with Lip. 

Before your anxiety can skyrocket, you feel Lip press up against your back. You also feel something else, way harder, push against your butt. You didn’t know that this tiny action would make you so horny. 

Lip’s finger traces down your forearms, his hot breath can be felt on your neck. His wet mouth kisses softly into the delicate skin, his electric touch jolting your body as a heavy gasp escapes your lips. Lip must be happy at the reaction as he chuckles into your skin. 

Lip spins you around in his arms, his hands landing back on the small of your back, inching slowly towards the top of your ass. Your pulse is thumping under your skin, in your chest as you stare into Lip’s enchanting eyes. You almost feel dizzy with it, the closeness, the endless possibilities of being here with him. 

This time, you take the first step, parting your lips slightly as you move towards him. But it only takes a second for Lip to reclaim his power over you.

At first the kiss is soft, his mouth barely there, hovering over yours, making you yearn for any sort of his touch. His lips brush against yours a second time, then he pushes himself into you deeper, slow and meaning at first, but the need to have you closer is beginning to overcome him. The aggressive part of him seeping through the cracks.

The warmth of his lips, the way his hands slide lower to the curve of your ass. You respond, instinctively, with your hands threading through the short hair at the back of his head, tugging him closer. The kiss is deepening quickly with an urgency that’s starting to become natural between you and Lip. 

Your heart is pounding so loud now, that you are sure that Lip can hear it too. The kiss, this moment is perfect. Being here, in Lip’s embrace is terrifying and exhilarating and everything that you have always craved. 

You melt into Lip as he begins to move the two of you to the bed in the middle of the room. His hands start to make quick work to pull your shirt over your head, which makes you break your kiss for just a brief moment before the two of you resume like nothing happened. His hands sliding their way around your back to unhook your bra, throwing the material in some unknown direction. Then he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your short skirt, yanking roughly to pull the material away. You step out of your sneakers and skirt, falling onto the bed as Lip pulls away.

You melt underneath his stare. His eyes scan your bare body as you inch yourself further onto the bed. You are beginning to feel exposed under his sharp gaze. One of your arms trails up the length of your body, trying to hide yourself but Lip tugs your hand away. Shaking his head.

“Perfect,” Lip whispers as his fingers brush against the bare skin, circling around your breast and nipple, up your neck and finally brushing against your jaw. Tilting your chin up to capture your lips in his as he climbs over your small body. 

Your breath hitches, back arching as you rub against Lip. The heavy kisses deepen slowly as Lip positions himself between your legs. Pressing his arching boner in your sweet core. One arm slipping underneath your back, while the other cups your breast. His fingers toying with your sensitive nipple as your moan radiates into Lip’s mouth. 

Your fingers slide up his neck, feeling the way his pulse skips underneath your touch, how his breath is shaky and uneven. Lip pulls you in even closer than before, and it’s this simple motion of closeness that sparks something more between the two of you, something that has been building long before the kiss on the dance floor, or his invitation during class. This spark has been developing from the small touches when he gets to class late and needs to sit in the seat next to you, or the small glances both of you steal when the other isn’t paying attention. 

The kiss deepens again, and this time it’s like a slow burning fire catching, spreading rapidly over your body. His lips move with yours in perfect rhythm, as if you’ve always known how to fit together. The taste of him is almost overwhelming at this moment. The weight of him over you grounds you to this earth, without it you would certainly be floating in the sky. 

After a moment, Lip pulls away again. Taking his time to soak you in, capturing every detail to his memory. His fingers scrolling around your chest and stomach, the cold tips tinkling you as he memorizes the feeling of your skin. 

When his hands leave your body, your sigh. Watching as he rips his shirt over his head while scooting backwards off the bed. His eyes watch you as his hands work quickly to unlace his belt and unbutton his pants before stripping them away. 

Before he pulls down his boxers, a moment of pause blankets the room, “You’re sure you want to do this, northside?” The nickname is surely a tease that does make you hot underneath his stare. 

You shake your head yes before Lip slips his thumbs under his waistband to pull off his boxers. And you were not expecting him to be so big when the fabric is released, pooling around his ankles.

You have little time to process his throbbing erection when he starts to climb on top of you again. Your eyes stare as his penis starts to bob against his stomach. 

“I need to hear you say it.” His fingers lift your chin towards his face, your eyes are the last thing to reach him, wide and doe-like, as your mind is running wild with impure fantasies. 

“I really,” you gulp, “really want to do this.”

“Good,” the devilish smile returns to his face. 

In one swift movement, Lip reaches to push the back of your legs towards your stomach, opening your center wide for him. The lace fabric of your panties barely does anything to cover up your core. You turn your face to the side, a heat beginning to rise in your cheeks as your pussy and ass are exposed for Lip. 

“Don’t look away,” His hands squeeze the back of your thighs to grab your attention. Your head whips back to him quickly as you watch his fingers start to move towards your center. Your hands gripping the soft fabric beneath you, hoping it will help stable you in this moment.

You bite your bottom lip as his middle finger lightly grazes over the thin fabric, the small touch shooting pure electricity through your body. You never knew you could feel this kind of way from someone’s touch before. 

Lip allows you to catch your breath before moving on, his middle finger passing over the same spot as before but this time with more pressure. And with more pressure from his finger means more sparks shooting through your body and a whine escaping from your lips. 

Lip smiles down at you in satisfaction. He starts to move his finger in small circles around your covered clit, your breath heaving through the pleasure. Your face contorting as he picks up speed, his other hand still gripping the back on your thigh to keep you in the place. 

After he is satisfied with how you are wiggling underneath his touch, he slips his pointer finger under the fabric to expose your heat. He licks his lips while taking in the sight of your perfect pussy, your juices leaking from your folds as the same finger grazes over the bare skin. 

The feeling is more intense than before, times a million. And you can’t help but shift underneath his touch but he holds firm on your thigh and keeps you steady on his lap. You couldn’t go anywhere if you tried hard enough. And it wasn’t like you wanted too but the feeling is just so overwhelming that you don’t know what else to do other than to try to move away. 

Lip begins circling your clit again, this time using his thumb. The vibration running through your body makes you arch your back and moan his name with pleasure. You are pure happiness right now.

He then moves his thumb further down your folds until he hovers over your entrance. Your juices coat the tip of his finger before he dips into you. The moan that erupts from you is no longer quiet but a loud arch that comes from the deepest part of you as Lip inserts a part of himself into your pussy. 

His finger moves faster inside of you, his thumb sooner replaced by his other hand's pointer finger. Pumping mercifully in and out of your entrance, sending shock waves through your whole body. His thumb resumes its place on your clit, the combination is ruthless as he makes you feel an unimaginable amount of pleasure.

Moans, whines, whispers of profanities leaving your lips in waves as he continues to fulfill your wildest wishes and add another finger which intensifies everything. Pumping faster and rubbing quicker as your body locks underneath his grasp. Chest heaving rapidly as you release yourself onto his long fingers. White spots cloud your vision as your breath slows down and Lip pulls his fingers out of you. 

Your hand wipes away sweat from your forehead as you meet Lip's gaze after your moment of ecstasy. A nervous smile dances across your face as you meet his eyes. You are quickly reassured of yourself when a wide, teeth-fill smile is staring back down at you. Lip is visibly delighted with how well he can make you cum.

He leans back on his heels, his throbbing erection leaking precum down his shaft. Your eyes dart from his to his bouncing member, licking your lips in the process.

Lip leans over you, to one of the bedside tables to open a drawer, digging around to find a condom. He leans back again, ripping the condom wrapping with his teeth and wrapping himself in the plastic.

He leans down to capture your lips after being away from them for too long. A moan from him vibrates your whole body as he wraps his arms around you, his finger twisting in the strands of your hair, holding you tightly as he slowly pushes his thick member between your folders.

Your legs spread further apart to accommodate his size. Your head burying in the nape of his neck as slides all the way into you. The burning sensation is pleasurable as he lets your breath slightly relax before beginning to pump. His hips moving rapidly between your legs, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. 

His tongue trails over the sweet spot under your jaw, biting and sucking as his mouth makes its way yours. You part your lips as he catches them, slipping his tongue into your mouth. The warm muscle sweeping around yours, dancing, fighting for dominance as the heat of pleasure engulfs the both of you. 

A groan vibrates against you, his hips buckling with each thrust as they become sloppier with each passing second. Pure bliss wrapping around your body as Lip pounds into you, over and over again. His hard muscles hold you still as he uses your body for pure pleasure. 

As his groans and grunts become more frequent and his thrusting becomes messier, the speed in which he pounds into you quickens. Releasing you from the sloppy kiss, his forehead against yours as you stare into each other's eyes.

His pupils dilate as they meet yours, breathes hitching in the shared space. His thrust even out as he releases himself into you. Your moans erupt on his hot kiss with his last hard drives of his hips.

He kisses your lips one last time, holding for just a second longer than needed, before getting up off the bed. He leaves the room for a couple of seconds to get a towel from the on-suite bathroom and discard the used condom. 

You have to give yourself a little moment to come back down to earth after that extraordinary moment that you just shared with Lip. Pushing yourself to the top of the bed as Lip comes over to clean you up. He tosses the towel aside when it is no longer needed and opens the blanket for you to climb underneath.

He slips into the covers with you, pulling you into his body. 

“I told you it would be fun.” He teases, kissing the top of your head as you snuggle into his chest. But you knew, as you drift off to sleep, that your dreams will never live up to this reality. 

~~~~

Let me know what you think!! Appreciate all of you so much. <3

[sophrosynesworld]

The Night Shift (Part 8)

“The person you are trying to reach has a voicemail that has not been set up yet. Please try again later. Goodbye.”

The automated message cuts off, leaving you staring at your phone screen. A heavy sigh escapes your lips. It’s been weeks since you woke up, but every attempt to reach Bakugo has been met with silence. Four missed calls, two unanswered texts—the message is clear. He doesn’t want to see you.

The crowd surges forward, and you move with it, carried along in a wave of shuffling feet and hurried glances. A rough cough tears through your chest, sharp enough to leave your throat burning. You try to clear it, but the effort only makes it worse.

If he did pick up, what would you even say? Hey, Bakugo. Sorry for dying? The thought twists something deep in your stomach.

You keep walking, head down, focused on the steady rhythm of your footsteps against the pavement—until you stop. Right there in the middle of the subway staircase.

Someone behind you mutters a curse, brushing past with an irritated shove. But you're not able to process it, memories claw at the edges of your mind, pushing past the dam you’ve worked so hard to build.

“How long do I have?”

Dr. Morri sits across from you, a tray of untouched cafeteria food between you both. The speed at which the hospital revoked your credentials was almost astonishing. Before the loose diagnosis, pulling 100-hour workweeks was just another Monday for you. Now, you’re “on sabbatical,” a sanitized label slapped on to keep questions at bay.

"You’re a medical mystery," he says. "You know how hard that question is to answer."

You lean in, arms crossing over the table, voice low. “What am I supposed to do? Wake up every day not knowing when I’m going to die?”

"Jesus, will you—" Morri had caught himself, exhaling sharply. "Talking like that won’t get you anywhere."

Your colleague drags a hand down his face, exhaustion settling in the lines around his eyes. You're not quite sure if he looks older than you remember or if you’re just seeing him clearly for the first time.

"You want the truth?" he sighs when you nod. "If we can’t find a cure… maybe a year."

"A year?"

"That’s on the generous side."

"Do you think they'll let me cash out on my social security early?"

"Dammit, don’t—" Morri cuts himself off, pausing for a moment. "We’re not giving up on you. We have every specialist looking into this." He leans back into his chair. "Quirk research is evolving everyday. But we need time, and you…" He exhales. "I think you need to tell someone".

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the table, nails digging into the plastic. That’s the problem, isn’t it? How do you tell people that you’re dying? That no matter how strong they think you are, no matter how much you’ve fought to survive, your own body has turned against you?

How do you tell someone like Airi?

You feel it again—the acid in your throat. Another person pushes your shoulder and it's finally enough to break your frozen state, your feet moving towards the platform and onto the correct train without having to think about it.

Your friends could never know. Your family would never find out. You made that choice—selfishly, maybe. Kento had called you out on it, tried to talk you down, but you didn’t listen.

"A year of happy memories is better than a year of them waiting."

Your eyes stay down, locked on the scuffed subway floor, refusing to let your thoughts spiral. The panicked thought slips away, shattered by the buzz of your phone in your back pocket. For a split second, your heart jumps—Katsuki.

But it’s Rina.

Hey! Wanna grab lunch this weekend?

You stare at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The simple question feels impossibly distant, like it belongs to another version of you. With a quiet sigh, you slip the phone back into your pocket, promising yourself you’ll reply later.

The subway doors slide open with a hiss, releasing a surge of passengers onto the platform. You move with them, climbing the steps until the center of the city swallows you whole—blaring horns, flashing advertisements, the ceaseless hum of bodies in motion.

Your eyes flick up on instinct, and there he is. The hero you've waited over a month to see. Or at least, his face—scowling down at you from a massive billboard, advertising Dynamight-branded protein powder. The absurdity of it pulls a scoff from your lips.

Shaking your head, you step forward, weaving through the crowd. Your gate quickens as you near The Booknook, a familiar restaurant just a few blocks away. Stepping off the sidewalk and into the alleyway, you suddenly feel something—a light tap on your shoulder.

Frowning, you glance back, half-expecting to see a old coworker. Instead, you find yourself looking up at the number one hero, clad in an evergreen and silver hero suit. He looks out so different. His boyish smile is disarmingly warm, tinged with nerves that somehow make him seem more approachable. Was he wearing a hero suit when he came into the hospital? You frown, trying to remember.

“You recover fast,” The words slip out reflexively, your professional instincts kicking in.

Izuku chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that’s almost endearing. “Only thanks to doctors like you.”

The casual acknowledgment stops you short. “You… know about that?”

He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah. They told me everything. If it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t be standing here.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. It’s rare for a hero to acknowledge you so directly—your work usually fades into the background of their larger-than-life narratives.

“Well,” you manage, brushing off the moment with a faint smile, “you got to us just in time.”

Izuku chuckles. “You shouldn’t do that.”

"Do what?" you ask, stepping deeper into the shaded alleyway, away from the relentless heat of the dusk sun. You tilt your head slightly, a silent invitation for the hero to follow.

“Brush things off like they’re nothing,” he replies following as you step forward, the muted clink of his armor echoing against the walls of the pothole-ridden alleyway. His polished boots crunch against loose gravel as his eyes lock onto yours. “Take credit for what you do. From what my friends tell me, you're a real hero. Own it.”

A flicker of warmth stirs in your chest, but you wave it off with practiced nonchalance. “Thank you, Midoriya. But, I'm on holiday now so don't inflate my ego."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," Izuku chuckles his eyes flicking left, then right, scanning the alley.

You follow his gaze, but all you see is cracked asphalt, a few scattered puddles from yesterday’s rain, and a pigeon that looks way too invested in your conversation. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the fire escapes above, cutting sharp lines of light and shadow across the walls. You’ve never thought much of it before—it’s just an alley. But the way Izuku’s locates every rustling scrap of paper and distant clatter makes you wonder what he's seeing that you don't.

His armor catches the sunlight in flashes, the green and silver plating looking oddly out of place against the dingy bricks and rust-streaked dumpsters. Yet somehow, it fits him perfectly. He looks… cool, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, though you’d rather bite your tongue than say it out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be off saving the world right now?” you ask, your tone casual, though the question feels more pointed than you intended. It feels almost ridiculous, standing here with him when it’s so clear he could be anywhere else—doing something that actually matters.

You expect a quick, snarky reply. Something cocky to match the confidence you constantly see online. But instead, he says:

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" You stop in your tracks, holding still so the crunch of gravel beneath your soles doesn’t mask whatever he’s listening for.

Izuku’s eyes stay fixed ahead with an unreadable expression. His footsteps still crunching. "Exactly," He exhales, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Izuku slows, just enough for you to catch up, his sharp eyes flicking to a shadowed doorway before returning to the path ahead. You can’t tell if he’s on edge or if this is just how he is—always scanning and assessing. Either way, it’s unsettling. How does someone live like that? Constantly waiting for something to go wrong?

"Take a left up here," you say, hoping to lighten the mood. "It's not a bad neighborhood, you know."

He shrugs. "I never said it was."

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

"So, where are we headed?" Izuku asks, stepping aside as the alleyway opens into a wider street.

"The Booknook." you say, shoving your hands into your pockets. "Ever heard of it?"

He tilts his head, glancing at the faded street signs. "Can’t say I have. Is it any good?"

"Guess you’ll find out,"

"Is that an invitation?" His tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something in his expression—like he’s giving you a way out.

You hesitate for half a second before nodding. The moment you confirm, your stomach twists. Why did I just invite Deku with me? Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep your tone casual. "If you’re chasing me all over the city just to say thanks, the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee."

He chuckles, falling into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "I appreciate that."

“How’ve you been?” you ask, starting up the first set of stairs. The incline feels steeper than it should, a tightness creeping into your chest with each step.

“Honestly?” The seriousness in his tone forces you to glance over your shoulder. “I’ve been having a hard time breathing.”

Your right foot stops moving mid-step causing you to nearly trip, catching yourself just in time before spinning around to face him. Standing a few steps higher, you’re eye-level with him for the first time.

"For how long?" The words come fast, concern sharpening your tone. "Since the accident, or before? Have you seen a doctor?" The questions tumble out, one after the other, leaving no room for hesitation.

His expression shifts—seriousness breaking into something playful, his grin lighting up like a switch flipped.

"Are you... are you fucking with me?"

"Yes," Deku admits with a laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Midoriya!" You swat his arm, cheeks warming, but the metal plating of his armor dulls the impact. Izuku still moves as if you actually hit him, feigning injury with an exaggerated wince.

Rolling your eyes, you take another step forward. "This healer is off the market," you say, the joke barely out before a wave of sadness crashes over you. "Go find someone else to save you next time."

"Don't be like that," he laughs.

A few people wave as you pass a stationary store, their attention fixed on him. You glance ahead at yet another incline, groaning internally. Why are there so many damn hills in Japan?

"Could we stop for a second?" Izuku leans casually against the railing, squinting at the sun. "I always think I’m in shape… until I have to walk up all these hills."

You let out a breathy laugh. "Sure," you say, shooting him a knowing look. "But shouldn’t you have more stamina? I feel like that's an important trait in heroes."

Izuku huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, turns out crime-fighting doesn’t require this much uphill cardio."

Whatever awkwardness was left between you dissolves as you both break into breathless laughter, the kind that makes your ribs ache but feels way too good to stop. For a moment, it’s like you’re both teenagers again—no weight of the world, no expectations—just two kids without expectations.

Somewhere between catching your breath and teasing him about his supposed stamina, you learn a few things. Like the fact that Izuku drinks an almost concerning amount of melon soda, keeps an entire journal dedicated to analyzing his students’ quirks, and sometimes gets so caught up in hero work that he forgets to eat. In return, you offer little pieces of yourself. How your heart has always been just a little too reckless, how sleep never comes easy no matter how exhausted you are.

It turns out, you have more in common than originally thought.

You both push yourselves too hard. You both let responsibility weigh heavier than it should. And neither of you know how to slow down.

And yet, there’s a difference.

Because while you blend into the background, Izuku never can.

People watch him.

Not just a passing glance or a quick double take. It’s more than that. Every step he takes seems to draw eyes, conversations pausing mid-sentence as he moves past. Somehow, it just seems effortless—the way he acknowledges each one with a smile or a wave.

You watch him, too. The way the sunlight weaves through the green of his hair, catching in the unruly strands. You’ve heard rumors, of course, the hospital is full of gossip and secondhand stories. But none of it compares to seeing him like this, laughing at one of your jokes with a crinkled-up nose.

It's in that moment you understand why Japan idolizes him.

"Are you ready?" Izuku asks, standing up from the curb and extending his hand to help you up.

You look back at the hero, your mind still a little distracted, but still replying with a nod, focusing on him as he waits, hand outstretched.

"Of course." You smile, your lips pulling upward more naturally than you expected as you reach out. Your hand fits in his much larger one, the warmth of his grip grounding you as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet.

"We’re getting close. I think it’s only another block or two," you say, stepping forward—but then you hesitate, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing next to him. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make you notice.

For a split second, you wonder if Katsuki sent him. But the thought vanishes just as quickly—Katsuki won’t even call you back, so why would he go through the trouble of sending Izuku? The sting of that realization settles in your chest, but you push it aside, along with the dozen other questions piling up in your head.

Izuku, oblivious to your inner spiral, keeps pace beside you. The sound of your footsteps blends into the steady hum of the city—distant car horns, students filtering out of their evening study groups, laughter spilling from a nearby café.

"Never heard of this place before," Izuku says, breaking the silence. "What is it?"

"It’s part library, part restaurant," you explain. "Coffee and lunch during the day, liquor in the evening. People go there to read, work, or just exist for a while."

He perks up at that, intrigued. "What’s it called again?"

You huff a small laugh. "The Booknook. It’s probably my favorite place in the city."

Izuku chuckles, shaking his head like he should’ve guessed. "Sounds like something my friend Ida would visit. I’ll have to mention it to him next time I see him."

By the time you reach the correct street, the cozy, wood-paneled storefront glows warmly against the encroaching evening. A few patrons sit outside under string lights, noses buried in books, steam curling from their mugs. Through the large windows, you can see shelves lined with well-worn novels and quiet corners where people have tucked themselves away, lost in stories.

"Here we are," you say, your pace quickening slightly as you gesture toward the door. The store stands warm and inviting before you, the glow of its interior spilling onto the sidewalk.

Izuku tilts his head, taking in the café, but before either of you can step inside, the door bursts open with a sharp bang.

Someone barrels through, slamming into you with enough force to knock you off balance. Your breath catches as you stumble backward, only to collide with something solid. Izuku. His armored arms embrace you before you can hit the ground, steadying you with an ease that makes your stomach flip.

"Hey!" Izuku’s voice is sharp now, the calm politeness from before shifting into something more authoritative as he moves you behind him.

The man who crashed into you barely spares a glance your way. His focus snaps immediately to Izuku as a sneer curls on his lips. His entire presence oozes entitlement, like he owns the street beneath his feet.

"I don't have any spare change." he spits, his tone thick with disdain.

Your pulse kicks up, unease creeping beneath your skin. The man is tall and wiry, dressed in a suit so elaborate it probably costs more than your entire month’s rent. It's clear that he's the kind of rich that demands more from the world simply because he can.

"We don't need your money," you manage, squaring your shoulders. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. His copper eyes locked on the man in the hero suit.

"I’m just here for drink," Izuku says smoothly, his voice measured. "No need to make a scene."

The man scoffs. "Right. Because that’s all you heroes ever do—just mind your business, huh?" Mockery drips from his lips, daring Izuku to react as air between them shifts. You’ve never seen anyone talk to Izuku like this—openly hostile, taunting. But what unsettles you more is how unfazed Deku seems. He doesn’t rise to it, doesn’t even blink. He just tilts his head slightly, his warm eyes now harsh.

"I don’t want any trouble," Izuku says, his voice steady, even—calm in a way that only makes the tension feel heavier. "But you need to apologize to my friend here."

The man sneers again, his lip curling like the mere suggestion is an insult. He doesn’t push further, though. Instead, his narrow copper eyes finally slide to you. There’s something sharp about them, something that gleams. He studies you, trailing over your face like he’s searching for something.

The sneer falters, just for a second. His brows pull together, the look flickering once again into something else. Uncertainty? Amusement? It’s hard to tell. But then his expression hardens again, his jaw clenching like he’s come to some conclusion you don’t understand.

A sleek black car pulls up to the curb, its presence too smooth and convenient. He exhales through his nose, his attention shifting away as if we’ve already become irrelevant. There’s no apology. No words at all. Just a slight, almost imperceptible nod in my direction.

As he moves, his fingers flick out in a lazy, dismissive wave, like Izuku is hardly worth his time. The car door swings open, swallowing him whole. The silence that follows as his car pulls off is heavy, charged with something neither of us can quite name.

Izuku exhales slowly. "That guy…" he mutters under his breath, eyes still on the retreating taillights. "I don’t like him."

Neither do you, but you won't admit that.

"Come on," you say instead, forcing your voice to sound steady. "I'm sure we won't see him again."

Author’s Note: Hey, darling! Long time no read… or, I suppose, long time no write on my part. Life has been a whirlwind lately—I’ve been buried in work on my personal novel, which has unfortunately made me slack a bit on my content here. But I haven’t forgotten about you all! I hope you're staying safe, warm, and surrounded by good things. (Also, sorry if this is clunky?? Writing in second person is so much harder since I haven't done it in so long.)

Tags: @simplyraeblue @moonfloweronmars @kalulakunundrum @froggy-crystal @msjaeger @crystalssncw @dragonscribble @gina239 @abcdefbeom @bakugonnathrowitback @your-mom3000 @elarakive @piluhns @deadhands69 @rienin @pikachuzhc @vanillabeama @cheshairacat

[ebsmind]

༘ ೀ CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT, TANGLED UP IN YOUR SHEETS | 18+ MDNI

pairing : fwb!jonathan kovacevic x reader

warning(s) : man this is pure smut so MDNI 18+, fwb, making out, vaginal fingering, p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, dom!kovy, and cussing (if i missed anything pls lmk!)

a/n : i’m doing a nico one after this i can’t stop with these blurbs

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who just loves to call you late at night. doesn’t matter if it’s after a game, win or loss, he will always call you, off days too. no matter what you still pick up the phone. and when you do, kovy’s voice is always deep and raspy. “hey, i think you should come over.” with that, you do what you’re told.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who answers the door just seconds after you’ve knocked. he wastes no time grabbing your hips and guiding you inside of his apartment. his lips lock onto yours within seconds. he kicks the door closed with his foot, not bothering about locking it because it’s an automatic lock. thank god to whoever invented that.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who attempts to drag you into his bedroom by your hips but that never ends up happening. instead, he settles with pressing your back up against a wall in the lightly dimmed hallway.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who desperately lifts your shirt off of your body. his hands instantly cup your breasts that sit in a black push-up bra (that you purposely wore ofc). he kneads your breasts and a soft moan escapes from your lips. the sound goes straight to his groin, and his cock sits semi-hard against his inner thigh. the soft fabric of his boxer briefs hugs his cock perfectly. if it weren’t for his dark heather grey slacks, you’d be able to see the outline of his swollen tip.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who shoves his hand down your sweatpants, teasing your clothed clit. he breaks away from a tongue-messy kiss to look down on you. a small smirk spreads onto his face when he finally takes ahold of the thin black fabric that covers your most sacred body part and pulls it aside. you fuel his fire by muttering a soft “please” and with that, kovy inserts his ring finger.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head when he adds another two fingers. his name escapes your lips like a prayer. chanting continuously until you finally come undone. the 6’5 looks at you with so much adoration. you never catch how his eyes glisten when they look down on you.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who quickly discards your panties and sweatpants. he tosses them into the middle of the hallway. you follow suit, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. you take your time knowing it’s driving kovy insane. and it does because before you can reach into his pants and palm his cock through his boxer briefs, he pulls away. shoving the material of clothing off of his muscular thighs, he wastes no time in turning you around to face the wall.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who takes off his boxer briefs slowly, just to get his lick back. you're growing impatient and before you can mutter something to him he whispers, “spread your legs for me.” his command is automatically obeyed by you.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who pushes his cock into your wet cunt. walls squeezing him like you were made for him. “so fucking perfect” he manages to slowly breathe out. he starts moving his hips, keeping the pace nice and steady. the two of you savior the moment before it gets downright filthy. his hands make their way to your hips, once they land on the soft skin, kovy picks up the pace.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who’s hips rut against yours, the pace is fast. the tip of his cock hits the spot kovy is all too familiar with. moans are leaving your mouth left and right, you don’t even care if anyone can hear you.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who takes a hold of your hair, balled up into his fist. it takes you by surprise and you quickly settle yourself against the wall. soft grunts leaves kovy's throat, “you like when i fuck you like this, huh?” he grinds his teeth together and you nod. you can’t even speak because you’re so fucked out. it feeds into kovys ego but you didn’t care. he knew how to fuck you, and good.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who can’t help but guide you through your orgasm. “that’s it, baby, give it to me,” you paint his cock with your cum. “such a good, good girl.”

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who’s thrusts begin to be inconsistent, he’s close and you know it. his hand leaves your hair and goes back to your hip. his grip is tight, you can feel the marks starting to form.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovywho goes fucking crazy when you praise him, “you fuck me so good, kovy.” all he sees is black after that.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who paints your walls with white when he cums. he slows his pace while catching his breath. his chest heaves when he finally pulls out. you whimper and turn around to face him in return. your eyes catch his abdomen, he's so fucking toned, you're eyes move up at watch his chest rise and fall, he's trying to catch his breath. by the time your eyes finally make contact with his, he’s already looking at you. his hands cup your face and he leans down to give you a quick peck.

༘ ೀ fwb!kovy who pulls away and tells you one thing, “now go get on the bed, i’m not done with you.”

[brattyzanny]

Hihihi so first happy bday to Getou ^.^ I tried to get as close as I could to 3.4k words and barely got to 1.9k ;-; but I’m thinking of making this a series? Btw this isn’t proofread. Thank you for reading! Always feel free to comment any tips. My asks are open for requests! Thanks again ok bye!!!

Edit: sorry rereading it and fixing typos! I can’t deal with them omg

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MDNI BLANK PROFILES DNI

TW: angry sex, talk of death/violence, use of slut, brat, unprotected sex, cream pie, slight dubcon since they’re basically fight fucking? Tiny bit of a size kink, size difference, he’s older than reader. Reader is over 20.

ENJOY :D

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After fighting an especially difficult curse with Suguru both of you were pissed. He hadn’t been listening to you at all the whole time. That had led to both of you getting injured.

“All you had to fucking do is stay out of my way y/n.”

“Fuck that all you had to do was listen to me! You never listen to me. You act as if your age means anything. I’ve got enough experience and skill to fight that curse on my own if I needed to. You’d arrogance is going to get you or worse us killed one day Suguru.” You exclaim as you walk into your shared dorm. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“What experience? Kissing Satoru’s ass so he can train you when your just drooling over him? Ridiculous. Had I not been there you’d have gotten yourself killed. You should be thanking me!” Suguru yells walking up to you. He had a gash on his left cheekbone and bruises scattered along his sides. You were no better with a small cut on your forehead and bruises and scrapes on your legs from being thrown but the curse.

“Watch your tone Suguru you sound jealous. Mad I didn’t go to you to be my mentor? Satoru knows what he’s doing and he’s a great teacher. What’s a second year to you anyways? Not like you even care about anyone but yourself. I can’t stand you.” He was so close to you now. You hadn’t even realized that he had you pinned to the wall until one of his knees came between your legs keeping your thighs parted.

“You’re such a fucking brat. Always bitching about how someone does their fucking job. You think I’m jealous off you showing off your ass to Satoru when you’re practicing? Think I’m mad you didn’t choose me? Please. If I wanted you to be a little slut for me I’d have you on your knees right now choking on my cock.” Your breath hitched and your damned thighs squeezed around his leg slightly but enough to make Suguru’s smirk grow even wider.

“Look at you. Pussy practically throbbing thinking about my dick down your throat.” He leans into your neck and up to your ear. “Bet your little cunt is dripping for me.” He rasps as he presses his knee harder against your clothed pussy, indeed finding that you were almost soaking the thin fabric. You slap him. Hard. The silence is deafening before you find your voice.

“S-Suguru get off of m-me.” You pant feeling him chuckle darkly and bite at your neck. “This pussy doesn’t want me to stop. Wants me to keep touching her doesn’t it?” He smirks as his fingers trail down before you grab his arm stopping his descent .

“Fucking pervert.” You growl looking at him. Your heart is racing and your pussy is flooding as you take in his disheveled appearance. His hand circles around your throat gripping it hard making you gasp and snap your eyes to his dark violet ones.

“You need to know your place.” He growls staring back at you. “Only reason I was here today is because Gojo couldn’t be bothered with a second year. Not important enough. Basically forced me to deal with your bratty little ass.” His voice was smooth as silk but dark as ever. It sent shivers down your spine. With your eyebrows furrowed you struggled in his grasp growling back at him, “f-fuck you Geto. Fucking jealous that I-I’d rather fuck Satoru instead o-of y-you.” Your voice was broken due to his hand that was starting to get tighter around your throat. He pushed you harder against the wall forcing your legs wider before dipping his fingers into your panties just to find that your pussy had betrayed you. You were soaked just having him degrade and choke you.

“You thinking about him right now slut? You’re fucking dripping.” He groans looking down at his fingers, sticky with your arousal. He meets your eyes again as he slowly sucks his fingers clean of your juices groaning lowly at the taste. Your legs clamp around his and you can feel your nipples straining through the fabric of your uniform. No you can’t do this. You can’t let Suguru Geto fuck you like this….but you can feel his hot and heavy cock on your thigh. You glare at him. How dare he make your body react this way after nearly getting you killed.

“G-get off Suguru.” You groan feeling him slip his fingers back inside your panties.

“I think I’d rather teach you a lesson. You shouldn’t be talking back to your Sensei the way you are.” He taunts as his fingers swipe up and down your slit, spreading your wetness before rubbing harshly on your clit. You whimper and jolt at the friction, hands clawing at his wrist holding your neck so tightly.

“You still want me to let you go? So you can go play with this pussy in your room and moan my name? Yeah I hear you every night doll. Thinking you’re so fucking quiet. Fucking little slut.” He rasps slowly pushing two fingers inside you making you let out a breathy moan.

“Ahh~ S-stop. Mmnh.” You whine with your cheeks blazing red at this point. You don’t want him to but you have to put up a fight. He was your sensei right now and it’s not right.

“Mmm your sucking me in sweetheart. I don’t think you want me to stop baby.” He purrs into your ear as his fingers speed up and curl right into your g-spot making you moan his name and gush around his fingers.

“Heh look how good I can make you feel. And you want to act like you only want Satoru fucking this pussy? Maybe you’d like both of us to stretch you out.” Your pussy clenches at his words which make you whimper and sink your teeth into your plush bottom lip.

“Yeah I knew it. You’re a dirty little slut aren’t you?” Suguru taunts you as his fingers work your pussy into your first orgasm of the night.

“Haah please m’gonna c-cum Sugu~” you whine feeling your walls tighten around his thick fingers. He smirks down at you before sliding s third finger inside. That sends you soaring over the edge, back arching and nails raking down the arm he has holding your throat.

“Good fucking girl. Cum on my fingers I wanna taste this pretty little pussy.” He groans watching your face intently as you orgasm. You’re panting as you come down from your high watching as he slides his fingers form your sopping cunt and up to his mouth once more. He sucks off your juices and then takes you closer to him, meeting your lips in a rushed and passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth tasting yourself on his tongue. Before you know it he has you lifted around his waist and he’s walking you toward his room.

“Can’t wait to fuck you dumb. To shut this bratty fucking mouth up.” He growls between kisses. Clothes go flying off of you two as you fight to see who can get the other undressed faster. His hair is now loose from his bun and yours is a mess cascading down your back. Both of your injuries are quickly forgotten as your both let your hands roam and grope the other, trying to get impossibly closer.

“Stop talking already and fuck me Suguru.” You groan reaching down and stroking his weeping cock. His teeth sink into your neck as he groans and pins you down against the bed.

“Gonna ruin your slutty little cunt.” His voice is raspy and dark as he flips you over onto your stomach, ass in the air and pussy dripping with arousal. You haven’t had sex in a while and you know he’s going to stretch you so much. He slaps his heavy dick onto your pussy, making you let out a pathetic whimper as he grabs your hair, wrapping it around his hand and pulling you up so your back is flush with his.

“Think you can take it baby? Want me to split this cunt open? Hm?” He growls into your ear slowly dragging his tip from your clit to your entrance and back again, spreading your slick onto his thick member. You whimper and nod looking back at him.

“Take this pussy Suguru.” That’s all it took for him to slam his cock inside of you, stopping for a second as he bottomed out.

“S-shit you’re so fuckin tight doll. Hah you a virgin?” He asks rubbing one of his hands over your asscheek. You moan feeling the stinging sensation of his cock stretching you so deliciously.

“Hah n-no just been..Mmmhhh a while.” You whimper pushing your ass against him.

“Good cuz I don’t do soft and gentle baby. I’m gonna ruin this fuckin cunt until a-all you can think about is my cock.” He groans as he snaps his hips back, plunging his thick cock back inside you. Suguru smacks your ass as his pace continues at an inhuman speed. Soon enough your face is pressed into his sheets and your back is arched so much you know you’re going to be sore for days and not just because of the fight.

“F-fuck you take my cock so we’ll doll. Like you were made f’me.” He groans as he fucks into you faster and harder.

“S-Suguru! Haah m’gonna cummm!” You whine between his rough thrusts. You hear him laugh darkly as his pace becomes even more brutal.

“Think you deserve to cum slut? Hah been such a f-fuckin brat to me today.” He yanks you back up against his chest as one of his hands comes around to spank your clit making you cry out his name.

“P-please! M’so close please S-Sugu!” You moan reaching your hands up to tangle in his dark locks, tugging as he leans down to bite and suck on your neck.

“That’s a good little slut. Mmmh fuckin cum for me.” He moans slapping your clit a few more times before you scream his name and squirt onto his sheets and down your legs.

“Oh fuckkkk so fu-fucking tight baby. Gonna breed this tight little pussy. O-Oh fuck m’cumming!” He growls biting down hard on your shoulder as he fucks himself deeper inside you, letting thick hot ropes of his cum paint your walls. Suguru absolutely fills your pussy with his seed before you both collapse onto the bed, his cock still seated inside you and his cum leaking from the sides of him.

After a few minutes of you both panting and him leaving soft kisses on your neck he finally speaks up.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was now a softer and more sensual tone. Genuine worry laced within his words. You turn and look at him before shaking your head.

“Felt good Sugu. Better than I thought when I was playing with myself thinking of you.” You whisper almost embarrassed. He chuckles and kisses you softly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I’m glad. Let’s rest, we can shower tomorrow. You did so good for me baby. Took my cock like a champ.” He laughed. Your face grew red again before sleep slowly took both of you. Maybe you were lying about wanting to fuck Satoru instead. Maybe you let him hear you moaning his name on purpose hoping he would grow a paid and come in to fuck you just like he’d done tonight. Either way you’re satisfied and completely spent. And he’s already snoring softly behind you, arms tightening around you anytime you moved.

[mrhyde-mrseek]

Me to my deities: I’m walking down to the corner store, do you guys want anything?

Dionysus: Hot chips.

Me: You like spicy chips?

Dionysus: Yes.

Me: Uh… I’ll see what’s there and get back to you on that.

*At the corner store*

Me: *sees spicy barbecue chips on a rack of snacks*

Dionysus: Yes! Those!

Me: I mean, I was planning on getting something that I can also eat so it wouldn’t look weird to the rest of my family if I left a whole unopened bag of chips on your altar, and I don’t really like barbecue chips…

*I then spotted some crunchy Cheetos*

Me: How about those? As a compromise?

Dionysus: That works :)

(I have now eaten half the bag and left the other half for Dionysus near their altar since there’s no space on the actual altar for it, they seem happy now)

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[classyrbf]

thinking about movie night with nanami. You’re sitting in his lap comfortably, head resting on his shoulder while you giggle at the movie. But nanami doesn’t care for the movie when two of his thick fingers are plunged deep inside of your pussy. He’s moving them so slowly, teasing you as he pumps them in and out. Every now and then you’ll grip onto his arm that’s holding you in place, getting too distracted before he corrects you. “Focus on the movie, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear all while massaging your g-spot. He’s so cruel to you but he’s enjoying playing with you. Your eyes will slip down to where his fingers are, can’t help but stare at the way his fingers disappear into your sopping hole. You see them glisten with the glow of the tv light and bite down on your bottom lip as grow needier for more. “Eyes up.” He guides your chin up, holding your jaw in place. With every passing minute you feel yourself growing wetter and wetter, and your heart beat faster and faster sneaking glances and letting out stifled whimpers every now and again.

The pads of his fingers run up your slit, rubbing your swollen clit in small circles making you tense up. A shaky breath escapes your throat, and you’re trying your best to focus on the movie but it’s so hard to when he’s whispering such filthy things in your ear. “You want my fingers back inside that pretty pussy? I bet it feels so good to be stuffed full, huh?” He smirks against your skin. All you do is nod, gently grinding your hips against his hand because you’re done playing by the rules. You reach for his wrist, moving his hand downward back to your fluttering hole. “Is that where you want me?” He breathes against your skin. Just before you could answer he plunges his fingers back inside, your pussy making the most lewd squelch ever. “Just lean back and feel good, darling.” He held you against him tightly while he worked you open with his fingers, pressing and dragging his fingers against your g-spot with more pressure.

“Hear that?” He dragged his fingers in out of your soaked cunt, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at how wet you were. “Is this all for me? If so, it’d be a shame if I didn’t get a taste.” His fingers reached up to his mouth, sucking your juices off like you were the best thing he’s ever tasted. Your body shuddered in anticipation, as he brought his fingers back down to your pussy, gathering more of your slick. “Have a taste, baby.” Without hesitation you opened your mouth, feeling his fingers lay flat on your tongue where you tasted yourself on him. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Such a good girl for me.” He grabs your chin, planting his lips on yours, his tongue sliding past your lips and into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as he began fingering you again, going faster than he was before.

You pull away, breathing heavily as you feel yourself growing closer to cumming. “Ken,” you whimper, your nails digging into his forearm while your legs begin to shake. “Oh fuck,” you squeak, your jaw slack as you become mesmerized by the view in front of you. Nanami kisses your neck gently, watching as well, feeling the way your walls tighten around him.

“I can feel it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you wanna cum,” he huskily says, moving his fingers faster on purpose.

“Please, let me cum! I need it so bad, Ken! You always make me feel so good, baby,” you cry out, your chest moving up and down rapidly.

“Good girl. Let it out for me.” As if on command, clear liquid gushes from your cunt, soaking his hand and couch in the process but he doesn’t dare stop. “There you go, sweetheart. There you fucking go.” He kisses you tenderly as he drags every last bit of your orgasm out of you until your entire body is shaking. He removes his fingers, gently slapping your messy pussy, chuckling when you whine at the sensation. His thumb toys with your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “What a mess you’ve made.” He clicks his tongue at you.

“You’re no fair!” You pant, gasping when applies pressure to your clit.

“I think a thank you would be better. What do you think?” He looks at you with fox like eyes, and you can’t help but stare back with such desperation.

“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath.

“Atta girl.” He slaps your pussy a few more times causing you to buck your hips. “Now, keep watching the movie. I’m not finished playing with you.”

[tojbnuy]

mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three

warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI

birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.

bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.

bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.

bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else’s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.

bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’

bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.

bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.

bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.

bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)

bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)

bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.

bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.

bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.

bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’

bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.

taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

diva

in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL

As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 

Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”

“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 

“Whose side are you on?”

He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 

“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”

“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”

His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 

Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 

“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”

“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”

Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”

Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 

He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”

“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”

Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 

He bites his lip thoughtfully. 

“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”

“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”

He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”

“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”

“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”

You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 

“Don’t call me grouchy.”

“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 

The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 

“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”

Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”

“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 

“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”

Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”

Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”

While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanna move to the couch.”

He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 

“What are you doing?”

Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”

“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 

“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 

He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“This is… unprofessional.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”

That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 

“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 

“Tired.”

“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”

“Well… that’s all it was.”

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”

“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 

“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”

His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 

“Oh. I knew that.”

And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.

“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 

“Sleeping.”

You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 

“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”

“Like… in the mornings?”

“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”

“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”

You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 

It slowly fades, and you sigh. 

“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 

“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”

“I’d love to be a cyborg.”

“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”

“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”

“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”

He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 

“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”

“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”

“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”

“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”

You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 

“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”

You scoff. 

“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”

“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”

“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 

“What trouble?”

“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”

You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 

“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”

The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

A moment passes. 

It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”

He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”

How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?

When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”