#but this felt more like a personal bio to me
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greenstripedcat · 2 days ago
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I always project Snape on my relationship with my own biology teacher back in school. She was the scariest lady there, and made me cry multiple times when I was about Neville's age, only I was more like Hermione and cried because of my grades (hers was the only subject I got C's in, the only one I was failing); during my first lesson with her, she didn't allow me to do the lab because I wasn't careful with a (very fragile) microscope, and I just had to sit it out; this was my fifth grade, I was ~11.
By the eigths grade she was my favourite teacher in school, - knowledgeable, strict, no bullshit, I knew exactly what to expect from her. The workload was huge, but I learnt the most in her classes, and it felt so immensely satisfying when I'd spend hours the day before preparing for her class, and then the day after she'd ask around and I had all the answers ready along with like one other girl, and it was just so rewarding.
In eleventh grade she agreed to tutor me to prepare for my biology state exams. I'm now doing a phd in psychology (which is relatively far from bio, but still the closest subject available to me at the time); just a small personal connection that always reminded me of Snape's dynamic with his students.
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Is Snape nice? No. Is he an absolute comedy icon with a flair for dramatic timing? Yes! I mean he literally stood there waiting and being insulted multiple times just to reveal himself at the perfect moment. We stan.
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erdman-chairs · 2 years ago
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Who is she?
A supersoldier? A barfly? An environmentalist icon?
The Erdman chair was born the Emeco Navy Chair in 1944 in Hanover, Pennsylvania, USA. The US Navy had commissioned her father, Wilton Carlyle Dinges, to create a supersoldier. Or at least a chair who could survive the Navy’s constant exposure to moisture, salt, and “the occasional torpedo blast.”
After her sheer indestructability turned hazardous to the company business model, she started working at bars and hotels, whoever her sleek looks and alluring call could seduce.
Now the Erdman chair is part of a push for long-lasting products made from sustainable materials. I swear I’m not paid by the company I just think this is so cool.
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arctic-hands · 2 years ago
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Related to my tags on the Irish American reblog, how long have bastardized "Celtic" crosses been neo-Nazi symbols? I wasn't aware of this stupid use until I was an adult and my father was equally unaware until I learned about it, and in our Celtic (American) Pride we often used Celtic cross imagery in decor and accessories. Granted these usually did resemble actually woven/knotted crosses (which by no means meant they were authentic. At best a few came from local Celtic Pride fests–which as I said in those tags was plagued by Confederate and Nazi imagery), but most of them came from like JoAnn's or Michael's or Walmart whenever Saint Paddy's Day rolled around. That said, the woven pattern of a Celtic cross is a bitch to draw especially when you have yet to nurture or be nurtured in any art skills, so when my borderline-Gothic ass would doodle graveyards in my school notebooks I would often doodle simplified Celtic crosses as grave markers, which unfortunately just meant a simple cross with a simple circle in it, unfortunately reminiscent of the neo-Nazi symbol.
Me and my family were staunchly Indiana liberals (to be fair that wasn't that shocking in our democrat enclave city) and have only become more leftist as time goes on, so those who knew me well would know I didn't mean anything by it, but like I have to wonder/worry that those who didn't know me well (like most of my classmates. I was pretty lonely in high school) or people who would briefly visit my home or come across us while we were wearing Celtic pins that day or something came away with the wrong impression. I'm especially dismayed at the thought that the kids I knew to be actual neo-Nazis might thought I was one of them
For the record I left school in like twenty eleven and had been doodling graveyards for years and wearing Celtic imagery for even longer. I can't really find out when the "Celtic" cross became a dogwhistle
#Celtic cross#Celtic Pride#tbh when going to those fairs it was under the pretense of being (mostly) Scottish#it was all a farce my dad leaned into because he was adopted by a Scots-Appalachian man with a Scottish name going back to an actual clan#BUT i was never supposed to know he wasn't my biological grandfather (even tho it was pretty damned obvious)#so my dad played heavily on Scottish pride#that said we had Irish ancestry from other branches of the family so we indulged in Irish pride and imagery too#plus we just felt the knotted crosses were pretty and cool looking#anyway i/my dad did end up having more Irish genetics than Scottish pending our DNA tests#the Scottish is there but the Irish is more. especially in me because my bio maternal grandfather was also Irish Appalachian#(i have some Ulster Scots too but less so. which is more surprising because it's more common for 'Irish' Appalachians to be Ulster instead)#somewhat-Gothic because i usually aligned with goths in personality and depression but rarely wore black#i usually wore boys graphic tees with stupid sayings and memes on them#at least until the obscenely stupid dress code went into affect (search my blog for that if you're interested lol it's a saga)#i was lumped in with the goths for lack of better placement anyway but arguably i was more boy scene#my high school didn't really have cliques or anything strictly categorical so like goths would hang with 'preps' and such anyway#but i did have more commonality with Goths and most of my few friends were#anyway I'm losing the thread#rambling in the tags
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reflectionsofgalaxies · 8 months ago
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fuck I ran out of space in the tags so now I’m writing up here.
anyway. poem about the feeling of loss that comes with not being able to reminisce about a person, place, or relationship because no one left in your life shares those memories, and sharing it with someone new just isn’t the same.
putting ‘ personal ’ up here in hopes i can find this post again since it won’t fit in the tags
#Angela was in another one of my dreams last night#which I’m realizing shouldn’t be surprising bc yesterday I ran across a post I had written about her back in 2014#literally a decade ago#and then I went down a rabbit hole trying to find the other things I wrote about her#because I know I did#but it was so long ago that I wasn’t tagging things at the time#so I wasn’t able to find them#anyway it was a good dream actually#it was my college bio class#and I went to sit down and there was only one empty seat and she was in the one next to it#I was surprised to see her and nervous to sit down because I didn’t know if she’d want to see me#but she reacted almost like nothing had happened between us#it wasn’t like before#it was like a friendly fresh start#I can’t remember too much else about the dream#(except the prof trying to remember a word and I helped and he was very stern usually but he thanked me)#(so eager for my prof’s approval even in my dream lol)#anyway we ended up sitting together pretty consistently#and became casual friends again and it felt so good#and near the end of the dream she hugged me#and I woke up surprised at how clearly I remembered so much about her#how she looked. how her voice sounded and the way she spoke. her inflection and word choice.#her dry kind of snippy humour. how her hands felt when she lent me a pen.#how her hug felt.#anyway#just read a poem in my new anthology that reminded me not directly of her#but of the feeling of missing her#it’s called The Old Familiar Faces by Charles Lamb#‘friend of my bosom thou more than a brother. why wert not thou born in my father’s dwelling? so might we talk of the old familiar faces- ‘#the feeling of being the only holder of the memory of a person or a relationship
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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 7 months ago
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I really loved your scenario of The Justice League AND The Ill reader,Lmao, poor reader they only need a rest.
Anyway, ever since I read the first part I was thinking about the kids, you know, the League Sidekicks, obviously The Reader knows them, due to work (I can really imagine Batman introducing His kids to the Reader to force a bond , And obviously The rest of The League does the same) So I had the headcanon that the reader really likes the children, they talk to them after missions, sometimes they buy them some gifts for their birthdays, they listen to them when they complain about their father figures (Therapist Reader), etc. But at the same time I can imagine The Reader being totally uncomfortable with his parents, so I can't help but think of a scenario in which The Reader is talking to the League kids in a good mood, but the League members walk in. to the room (They obviously saw the Happy Reader, so they want to gain some advantage) And The Reader just turns off, goes into business mode and is curt as always with the league, and when he finishes talking to the league, he goes back to talking to the children and their mood is happy again. Man I would love to see the league's reaction to the obvious reader favoritism
PD:I really love your work, you are amazing
Pd2:If The kids are yandere, ITS UP to you
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A Week in Life: Take Your Kid to Work Day
Synopsis: A week in your life where you get a lot of new little friends, even if you know something’s sketchy about it.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Yanderes! Robin (Dick), Superboy (Konner), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Wally) and Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm)
Tw: A single implication about Hal’s past dub/non con incidente (blink and you miss it); Implied emotional manipulation, I guess? Justice League using kids as a manipulation tactic; A little angst, I think we all hate how Superman treated Conner, so I added that, so technically not a healthy relationship between them here, could be interpreted as Superman manipulating him or Superboy trying too hard to make his bio-dad like him; The kid’s ages are definitely not accurate canon wise, but what is canon anyway? I mixed their personalities and origins from Young Justice (along with their age gap) and for Superboy it was mainly the animated movie Reign of the Supermen; English is not my 1st language.
Word count: 3,3k
Requested? More than once.
Extra notes: Dick is 10, Kaldur'ahm, Conner, Megan and Wally are 13. I wish I knew more about the Wonder Girls to write about one of them, I felt bad for not adding them, but I would’ve felt worse writing for a character I have no idea how to write.
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…
Monday…
You’ve heard the rumors Gotham media was spreading for months now, you even asked Batman if you should prepare the marketing team in case of an emergency, he denied everything.
So why was it that now you were staring at a 10 year old dressed as a traffic light?
— Miss/Mister/Mx (Y/N)... I’m hungry… — Worst of all? The kid was cute.
You smile in a friendly manner.
— Okay, okay. Just give me a second, buddy, I need to talk to your… Dad…?! — You just now realized you didn't know their actual relationship. Batman only told you his name was Robin, that he was his partner, and that he was in the watchtower to observe. You didn't know superheroes accepted 10 year old interns, but whatever. The kid just stared blankly at you, not giving an actual answer to if you got your assumption right.
— Can I go with you? — Robin fiddled with his fingers. So cute. You nodded with a small smile. The kid jumped off his too big chair and ran towards you, surprising you by taking your hand. He had small hands. So cute.
You walked slowly, to accommodate to his height, in the direction of the door to the briefing room, where Batman was talking to John Stewart. This other Green Lantern was a breath of fresh air. The other one (the one who shouldn't be named) was away, working on another district of the universe since that whole… Less-than-consensual situation. You were happy and surprised when the League didn't just brush it off, and even compensated you for it, alongside making him go away. He either agreed to that, or caused the 3rd World War against the Justice League. It was a temporary predicament, but happier nonetheless, since John wasn't obsessed with you, unlike the rest of them, and easy to work with.
You cleared your throat so they would turn to you.
— Does Robin have any restrictions? He said he's hungry so I'm gonna take him to the kitchen. — You said politely. Batman shook his head.
— Just don't give him sugar. He needs to sleep before patrol tonight. — You raised your eyebrows in surprise and nodded your head. Batman looked at the boy. — Behave, chum. — You blinked, Robin nodded solemnly.
As you walked in the direction of the kitchen, the kid showed to be very happy and talkative. You were surprised, considering who his dad was, but it warmed your heart. At least it seemed he wasn't mistreated.
At some point, he let your hand go and started cartwheeling and doing acrobatics all the way there to show off his abilities to you. You gasped and clapped, praising his talent along with other workers from the crew who were passing the hall. You were slightly worried that he would fall and get hurt, but the kid was really confident in what he was doing (but they always are, until they fall).
When you got there, you were impressed that he wasn't even the slightest out of breath.
— Do you have games on your phone? — He asked, sitting down on a table while you rummaged the fridge for some sandwiches or any healthy snack, since you didn't know how his home diet was, but guessing by his build, which was a lot more athletic than kids his age are, he was probably pretty healthy. Son of the Bat.
— Hmm, I have Dress to Impress, Pou and Candy Crush.
— What is Pou? — Your heart panged and you sighed, feeling old.
— When were you born? 2010? — You walked towards him and settled a plate with a sandwich in front of him, before pouring a cup of juice.
— 2014. — Your mouth dropped, speechless. — Wait, so not even Stardew Valley? — You cleared your throat and shook your head, sitting beside him, while he started eating.
— Wait, can I even let you play? Does Batman let you have screen time? — He nodded.
— I have a phone. I just couldn't bring it with me today… He said he would show me around the tower, but he got busy with work… — He deflated a little at the end of the sentence, your heart broke. — Anyway… He told me I could distract myself. I just need your permission. — You bite your lip.
— Okay. How about we go to the recreational room and you can play some videogames while I work from the computer. — Robin nodded eagerly.
— Damn, you can't even play with me? Working sucks. That must be why adults are so boring. — You took a napkin and cleaned some food from his cheek.
— It's not that bad… You can do whatever you want. — He perked up.
— I guess so… — He looked you up and down. You prepared yourself for one of those moments where kids are so blunt that they don't know they could offend someone. — But you're not boring, (Y/N), you're cool. Must be why daddy likes you so much. And he doesn't like no one.
Tuesday…
Wow, what a weird coincidence. Just yesterday Batman brought his kid, and now Martian Manhunter brought his niece.
Miss Martian looked older than Robin, but again, she was a martian, her appearance was shifted to whatever she wanted to look like. All you knew was that she was young and new on Earth.
Right now, she looked very human. She had freckles and auburn hair. The only thing that made her stand out was the green of her skin.
When she presented herself to you, you got startled by her voice in your head, but you and Martian Manhunter softly explained to her that on Earth people didn't communicate through their minds, and it was kinda like an invasion of privacy. Kinda funny hearing him say that, but whatever.
Like Batman the day prior, Martian trusted the girl in your hands. So many coincidences, right?!
— So, honey, how old are you?
— Oh, on my home planet I should be about 39. But converting to Earth years, I’m 13. — She said with a shy but friendly smile, you smiled back.
— You’re pretty young then. How are you settling on Earth? Planning to go to school maybe? — She nodded.
— I just started the school year… I wasn't too sure about that, but my uncle said it would be good to learn human behaviors. — You nodded.
— American school is nice, I recommend you should take part in clubs. And don't feel pressured to make a billion friends. It's better to have one good friend, instead of 10 people you know but can't rely on. — She nodded, biting her lip.
— I already know some of the other sidekicks, I just don't have any civilian friends… I was thinking about joining the cheerleading team. — You gasped, excited.
— Oh, that's really good! I always wanted to join, but was never the sporty type. You’re sweet, I think that already gives you some points. — Her green cheeks got darker.
— You think so?! — Her voice got louder with excitement.
— Of course! Now let me give you some tips about the jocks, honey…
Wednesday…
Today, Flash brought Kid Flash. You haven't met him until now. The sequence of days the older heroes brought in their sidekicks was starting to look weird… But not that weird. Batman said he would give Robin a tour but became unavailable. Manhunter wanted Miss Martian to meet civilian people and have a good role model — you don't know why he decided that that role model should be you, but it made sense, so… —. Flash Said they would spend the day using the lab to experiment some more on Kid Flash’s still recently acquired powers. So. Coincidences, right?
The boy was 13 too, he had messy red hair and green eyes. Flash didn't specify their relationship, but their personalities definitely matched a little. Both a little hyperiperactive and smiley. Although that could be more of a speedster thing, especially the first part.
Like promised, they spent half that day on the lab, occasionally calling you for snack breaks. However, at some point, Flash gave an excuse and left you with the kid.
Huh.
— Sooo, what do you do around here? — Kid Flash asked, spinning around in a chair he found somewhere and rolled to the middle of your office in the blink of an eye. You half-smiled. It was nice not being crowded by those weirdos and being around fresh and youthful people, but it was starting to feel weird.
— I plan schedule appointments, organize team meetings, prepare agendas and itineraries, book meals and travel arrangements, handle record keeping and documentation, and make sure a project stays on budget. — The ginger blinked and stopped spinning.
— Uhh, you went to college for that? — You blinked.
— I did, why? — He chuckled slightly.
— Nothing, it's cool, sounds boring, though. — You nodded.
— What do you want to work with? — He looked to the side, thoughtful for a moment.
— I think I want to be a scientist.
— Oh really?
— Yeah, I like physics, mechanics and a little bit of chemistry. — You smirked.
— Chemistry? Sounds boring. — Kidflash froze for a second, wide-eyed, then relaxed and started laughing loudly. His chuckling prompted you to chuckle alongside him.
He used his feet to push the chair around your table and stopped at your side.
— Hey, can I see how much people get paid here? If I'm gonna be a member of the League one day, might as well optimize time and just work here. — You slapped his hands away when he reached for your computer, he pouted.
— Wouldn't that make it difficult to keep your secret identity hidden?! — Kid Flash stretched his arm, then draped it across your shoulders, you lifted an eyebrow.
— Babe. I'm a superhero. I could change clothes really fast right now and you wouldn't even notice. — You scoffed and lightly pushed him and his chair away.
— A phone booth would be more appropriate for that.
— What's a phone booth?
Thursday…
Superman brought Superboy.
Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?
You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.
Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!
And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!
The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.
You cleared your throat.
Superman brought Superboy.
Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?
You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.
Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!
And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!
The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.
You cleared your throat.
— So… Are you hungry? Wanna play videogames? — You grimaced slightly. He looked at you again, a little hesitant.
— Uh… I think so? — He blinked. — You guys have videogames here?! — He exclaimed, surprised. You chuckled.
— Oh yeah, for such a serious and stern guy, Batman really invested in the work environment. — You chuckled together, walking towards the recreational area.
You were curious about the earlier weird vibe, but didn't want to prod.
At first, you just let the boy play by himself, just sitting beside him and working while talking, that was until he paused the game between missions and stretched, then looked at you.
— Are you guys involved? — You looked at him with your eyebrows raised.
— You guys…? — He pursed his lips.
— You and Superman. — You grimaced slightly.
— Oh no, he's my boss, and not my type at all. — He nodded, looking pensive.
— He likes you. — You kept a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. — I like you too, so I can imagine why he likes you. — You stared at him, exasperated. He widened his eyes. — Not like that! — He raised his hands to deny. — It's just- I feel comfortable with you. I felt comfortable with some of his friends before, I didn't even know why, but I think it's because half of me is from him. Like I have some things from Lex since I was… Born… — He looked to the ground for a second, pouting lightly. — That's why Superman doesn't like me. — You widened your eyes.
— I'm sure he likes you! — Superboy looked at you like he didn't believe you.
— No, it's okay… He's polite, I guess. And took me in as his family, just not… As his son… More like a brother, or… A cousin… I mean, I can understand, I'm basically a hate baby, created by his biggest enemy to outdo and destroy him… — You shook your head.
You didn't know what to say, since you didn't know how their dynamic was like.
— H-He brought you here to spend time with you, didn't he? He just had an emergency to take care of… — He looked to the ground and then at you again. He didn't have the heart to tell you that's the first time they ever “hung out”, and that his genius brain clocked hours ago that Superman's plan was to create a connection between you both by orchestrating a connection with you and him. He also didn't want to bad mouth Clark. A part of him always would have hope that Superman would want to be closer to him one day.
Superboy looked at the clock and then at you.
— Don't you have a break? I can hear your stomach, I'm hungry too.
Friday…
This madness has to stop now.
— Nice to meet you, Aqualad. — You nodded at the boy with a small smile. You were a little mesmerized by his exotic appearance. He had brown skin, blonde hair in braids (where are his roots?) and blue eyes. His arms were also covered in tattoos that you knew had something to do with his abilities.
— I was showing him around the Watchtower, but now I have a meeting with Wonder Woman, why don't you two hang out for a while? — Aquaman, always the most obnoxious one. Their intentions were 100% clear now.
Aquaman didn't let you say anything else and left the room with said hero. You heard her murmur something about having to find her own apprentice to bring to the watchtower as soon as possible.
You looked at the boy, not knowing what to say.
— Have you ever been to Atlantis? — He surprised you by speaking first, his tone was gentle, if not a little monotonous, but he looked at you with interest.
— Uhhh, no? I’m not that good of a swimmer and I can't breathe underwater. — Aqualad smirked lightly.
— You wouldn't need to worry about breathing, there are multiple ways for humans to do that, from magic to technology. As for swimming… I'm sure we can find some sort of solution for that, also. And I doubt my king would be opposed to the idea of teaching you. — You nodded slowly. So much for subtly.
— … My vitamin D is low enough as it is, I’d rather stay on land, no offense. — The atlantean opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. — Aqualad! Do you like the food here? I've always been curious about your culture’s cuisine…
You kept talking for hours, eventually, Aqualad and you ended up in the training room, he offered to show you a little of his control over water bodies, and you, still a little fascinated over the convivence with superheroes, and this being the second time you met someone from Atlantis, accepted eagerly.
— This is just like H2O… — Kauldur’ahm blinked.
— It is water… — The boy confirmed, hesitantly. You laughed.
— No, no, not water. It's a TV show, it's about mermaids. I guess it isn't exactly accurate, but they can control water, just like you! — He nodded, slowly, contemplating. You looked at your watch, noticing your lunch time was due. You looked at him, shyly. — If you're up for it, we could watch it now… — That seemed to make him perk up a little and he nodded quickly.
— I would like to.
Monday…
— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…
There they were, in the meeting room, all seated around the big roundtable, almost double the number of people who usually sit there.
Now, the food order they made, made sense.
You pushed the food cart forward, one for Flash. You came back and pushed another one, this one for Kid Flash, you ruffled his hair. Then, you walked back and pushed the 3rd food cart around the table, delivering each meal for each hero.
— Steak for Green Lantern. One black coffee for Batman. One meat sandwich and chocolate milk for Robin. — You squeezed his cheek. He smiled brightly at you. — Toast for Martian Manhunter and a slice of strawberry cake for Missy Miss Martian. — As you put the plate in front of her, you whispered that you wanted to know how the cheerleading team was going. She nodded happily. — A burger with fries for Aquaman, a smoothie and salad for Aqualad. Oh, did you change your hair? I like it! — You smiled brightly at the boy and his cheeks burned, he nodded. — Ice cream for Wonder Woman. Another burger and fries for Superman and another for Superboy. I see you followed my advice, your style really matches with those piercings. Tell me how you did it later. — You laughed carelessly and went to the door. — Need me for something more? — Your bosses shook their heads, stunned. You left and closed the door.
— Can't believe you guys actually did it… — John shook his head, disappointed at his teammates.
— I knew it would work. — Batman said, sipping from his drink.
— That's why we stole your idea when we knew about it. — Aquaman chuckled.
— I really need to find a sidekick. — Diana huffed.
Batman turned to Robin.
— You did a good job, chum. — Dick chuckled.
— Yeah, I even asked for a sandwich without the crust. Now (Y/N) think I'm the cutest here. — He smirked smugly. Wally scoffed.
— Yeah, right. She totally doesn't think you're an annoying kid. — The duo stared at each other. — I, for example, made them laugh. — The redhead puffed his chest proudly.
— Are you sure it wasn’t a pity laugh?! — Superboy snorted at Robin’s retort.
— Although Robin might be physically more adorable, and Kid Flash, in his words, made them laugh. (Y/N) and I started a TV show together, my king. — Aquaman nodded at his apprentice’s words.
— You did a good job.
— But (Y/N) actually said they wanted to talk to me later! That usually oficializes human’s friendships! — Megan said, softly.
— They said the same to me, the other day. That I could talk to them whenever I wanted… — Superman looked at Superboy, surprised. He felt awkward praising him, so he just nodded his head and looked away. Superboy pouted slightly.
— Because you told them your sob story, now they think you're a loser. — Conner glared at Dick. — Their physical language showed that they loved me, B! I honestly deserve an Oscar after that performance! They're gonna be ours before you suckers know it!
As a screaming match raised inside the room, the adult heroes looked at each other, lost for words, not only had the kids gotten you roped a bazillion times faster then they could ever dream, but also you were so amazing that they were enamored with you too.
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kianamaiart · 2 months ago
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Hey hey! You’ve probably been asked this a lot but what made you want to start creating I Don’t Want To Be A Magical Girl?
Also I drew Akia in my style!
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Hope you’re having a great day btw ! :0)
First of all this is so rad!!! I loooove how you drew her
And what made me want to make I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl... It was a lot of things! (im assuming you mean the pilot in general)
The idea started off as a stupid doodle/character design practice. It wasn't gonna be anything more than that. I just felt like drawing a cute character with a gun really hahaha.
It's not a particularly original premise and I didn't plan to do anything more with her (as I do with most of my ocs/designs). But I actually did really like this one and couldn't help but think of little ideas and scenarios with her. Things started ramping up in my brain more when I realized I could attach a personal story and personal experiences to it to make it feel less cliche. That's when I started designing the other characters and coming up with bios and stuff
And then that was gonna be it again. I'd maybe do a comic here and there but there was a combination of things that happened that led to me jumping in and making a pilot.
First of all, I had a two month hiatus coming up so I had so much time. I also decided to step down from my directors position to be a board artist again in the coming season. So I really wanted to get some storyboarding practice in and what better way to do that than with this character I ended up really liking? I also don't have a portfolio and I'd been wanting to make something that's very me rather than my work from an existing show.
I'd offhandedly mentioned to my editor at disney that I wanted to do a board for these characters and she told me she'd help me make an animatic if it ever came to that. I couldn't pass up that opportunity! Now, since it was gonna be an animatic and I didn't want it to just be my scratch, I reached out to a bunch of VA friends to see if they'd be interested and they were!
Then other than having that support, just seeing my friends work on their own personal projects has been really inspiring and made me want to also do my own thing! Me and my friend group had just made a whole video game for our friend as a bday present which was so creatively fulfilling and made me realize like "oh my god we're artists we can literally just make stuff".
In the past I'd been so afraid to share my original work and for similar fears I've never wanted to showrun despite having the opportunity to pitch. While it's flattering to be wanted there was this pressure that felt like "oh you HAVE to make something, you're wasting your talent otherwise." (lol this is ironically the thesis of idwtbamg). And as a qpoc, i'd felt this extra layer of pressure to have to make something perfect on all fronts because if i fail in any capacity, i'm failing my community. it'd just be another another reason for people to say "ah queer media and work centering poc just can't succeed." then on the other end, i can only do and write what i know and feared that other people in my community wouldn't resonate with it or would feel like it's inaccurate to their own experiences.
but that's an exhausting way to feel and i've finally decided for myself that i'm just gonna tell stories that are authentic to me and it will reach whoever it needs to reach~ this realization was kind of the final step i needed to push myself to go all in. and now we're here!
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bwabys-scenarios · 11 months ago
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Hihi! Just wanted to say I absolutely LOVE your works esp the kurapika ones
Soo basically they take the reader out shopping specifically for undergarments and someone just so happens to walk in while they’re changing? Maybe w the phantom troupe + kurapika?
Panties and such(NSFW)
!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: I’m going to assume you mean that the character walks in on reader, but if you meant a random person, sorry 😭🙏 also I’m only doing a two from the phantom troupe, doing all of them is just too much. I’ll do a part two if enough people want it, though! 🫡 REQUESTS OPEN! JOIN MY SERVER
characters: Kurapika, Chrollo, Feitan
warnings: creampie, reader wears lingerie, semi-public sex in Kurapika’s
NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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Kurapika
-you brought up the fact you wanted new panties, and he nodded along before processing what you said.
-“d-did you say… panties? As in… underwear?”
-a little flustered, but he insists on taking you, and paying for whatever you want.
-he brings you to a lingerie store, pouting when everyone assumes he’s a woman. that does work in his favor tho
-he keeps bringing you different sets of lingerie to try on, and he’s starting to get horny imagining you in each pair.
-eventually he pushes himself inside the dressing room, eyes going wide and cock hardening in his pants when he sees you pulling up a pair of lacy panties.
-he pushes them to the side, slipping his cock into you and pushing you up against the wall. “s-so pretty, angel…”
-you leave the store with several new sets of lingerie… some of them a bit… sticky…
Chrollo
-he’s the one that suggested it.
-“my love, it seems you don’t have much lingerie. You know how I’d just love to see you covered in lace, don’t you?”
-he takes you to the most well known, expensive lingerie store in the area.
-he’s a bit picky, and takes forever choosing what options for you to try on. He settled on mostly black lingerie, with a few pink and red sets… and one white one, with little angel wings on the top.
-Chrollo helps you into each set, his fingers gently tracing your figure. “Just gorgeous… oh my love, you look like an angel sent from above.”
-he’s quick to purchase every set you try on, and soon as you get home he’s on top of you, his teeth nipping at your jaw as his cock sinks into you.
-“that’s my pretty girl, so good for me…”
-he takes you out for dinner later that night, insisting you wear the lingerie he fucked you in. You spend the entire dinner feeling his cum oozing out of you, embarrassed as he stares at you with utter love and adoration.
Feitan
-“Bras? Don’t care about that. Steal it if want it.”
-that’s usually how it went when you asked Feitan to go shopping with you for anything. Either he’d say he didn’t care, or he’d offer to just steal it for you.
-so that’s how you ended up following him to the lingerie store in the middle of the night. He easily broke in, guiding you by the hand through the dark store until the two of you reached the lingerie.
-“okay. Pick your favorite.”
-you huffed at him, looking through the selection. “I’ve gotta try it on first…”
-you stripped, and this got Feitan excited enough… but he started stroking himself when you pulled on a pair of lacy panties.
-he continued to jerk off to you, until you caught him in the mirror.
-“F-Fei!”
-you blushed, but felt strangely flattered… “I’ll take care of it…”
-you sat in front of him, leaning down to take his cock in your mouth. “F-fuck…”
-seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, your ass perched in the air was enough to have him cumming in no time.
-he helped carry home as many sets of lingerie as you wanted… maybe he liked seeing you like that more than he thought.
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brokenpieces-72 · 1 month ago
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Hi, I was thinking how cool it would be for the team to have a 3-4 foot nothing mouse as an infiltrator and informant. who can sneak in by squishing themselves flat like real mice through the smallest cracks, steal information and not get caught. Thanks, and I love your work ^^.
Omg I adore this idea it is adorable! Yes! I'm just imagining the reader, squishing themselves against the ground but their legs are just kicking up the dirt behind them as they wedge themselves under a door that should not even fit their skull, lol. Also, this takes place before Spirit's time or a different time all together. I couldn't think of a way to include her in it.
Click
TW: past trauma, mentions of prison, mentions of ruining people's lives, shitty bosses, criminal history, let me know if any changes are needed.
"Is this contract negotiable?" You asked, sitting across from Laswell. She'd slid the contract over to you for a job, promising you the basic amenities and a hefty cash reward for your participation in an infiltration mission. You would be a key player in an infiltration mission to collect data from a cartel, something you were very good at. The information was pretty basic stuff like bio-chemical research files, shipping manifests, buyer lists, etc.
"What are you asking for?" Kate asked.
"Reduced sentence." You said, sliding the contract back to her. Kate took it back, glancing at you. "I've served 10 years already, for following orders. I want to walk around freely after this."
Laswell didn't show it but she was surprised by your statement. You'd plead guilty during your trial, and chose your words carefully when you spoke. If you wanted your freedom she could arrange it. You would be tracked for a while, but you knew that already. In a place like this, your size was weakness, something plenty of other inmates could take advantage of.
"I'll see to it personally." Kate told you, gathering her things. You gave her a curt nod.
You didn't need basic training, but the overgrown lizard with the missing wing wanted to give you an assessment. You didn't argue, you could give him attitude once you'd warmed up to the others. Your contract required compliance on your end. While you didn't have to like it, you weren't about to start drama. Just get your work done, complete the contract, and get your tracking bracelet. Thankfully you passed the assessment with little issues. You returned to Price for your orders and then you see Alejandro. Fuck.
You have to dig your nails into your palms when you see the spots on his arms. You know those spots, and try to avoid them. And of course the colonel noticed your discomfort with his presence. Didn't comment on it though. Price dismissed you to shower, and settle in. A laptop had been put in your room for you to look over what information they had so far for the mission. You knew what you were going to do with the laptop right away.
Holy shit, you forgot how much you missed warm water and privacy like this. It felt so good to get all of your dirt and sweat off, scratching at your scalp to get out all the grime and grease that had built up. You had to brush your hair out in the shower because of how knotted it was, but it was worth it. If anyone had an opinion on how long your shower was, they kept it to themselves. Coming back to your room in a warm hoodie and wet hair was marvellous feeling. You felt much more refreshed. When you saw the laptop, you put your date with your bed on hold. The sooner the job was done, the sooner you could shower as much as you want.
The cartel location was pretty simple set up. There were blueprints of the building along with edits for renovations. Everything you'd requested for the mission was available, including any reciepts they could get a hold of for the renovations. Tech was higher end but not exactly the most secure, it would take time to make an attack plan for it. You'd want to get a drone out so you could see how many guards were on security at a time, especially if there is an event going on, because security would be tighter. There were some aerial photos that you could get closer looks at, eyeing the vehicles that weren't military make. Odds were mods had been added, like bullet-proof glass or compartments for weapons.
Everything you could find or didn't find was scratched into a notebook. The advantage with writing things down instead of typing, was how easy it was to keep it to yourself and destroy it if you needed to. You probably spent a better portion of the day working on your notes and plans. By the time you had most of your wrok done, your lip was a little numb from chewing at it. Your eyes watered from staring at the screen, realizing just how dark it had gotten in your room. What time was it? Evening at least. Shit, you hoped there was still some food for you at the messhall.
You left your room, yawning, wishing you had taken a nap before getting to work. After poking your head into the hall, you quietly slipped out of your room to find the mess hall. When you turned the first corner though you nearly had a heart attack. Kyle unintantionally scared the shit out of you. You had to cover your mouth so you didn't yell in surprise. Did you hear someone coming? Yes. But not someone with big wings.
"You good?" He askeed. You nodded needing a minute for your heart to settle.
"Yeah... sorry." You said. "Was looking for the mess hall."
"I'm on my way there, I can show you." Kyle told you, waiting for you to give him the okay to show you. You nodded and gestured for him to lead on.
"So what do we call you? The Cap'n gave us your name but I figured you had a nickname or something." Kyle said, walking with you. Great, he likely knew you had a record as well. Certainly didn't seem bothered by it though.
"Mouse. Or Click." You answered. "Super original I know."
Kyle told you about the other nicknames of the team. You couldn't help but notice he seemed fairly casual with you, while keeping to himself. As soon as you figured out what he was doing you cracked a small smile. Kyle noticed.
"Did I say something?" He asked. Oh shit, he saw that. Awkward.
"No no, just... old training kicking in." You admitted.
"How so?" Kyle asked. You were hoping "old training" wouldn't come with follow ups. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable, if you wanted any mission to go right you needed trust from both sides. Kyle was taking the first steps, and you wanted to catch up. If you kept it to yourself it could make him uneasy, or dig into your file deeper. If you told him it could make him more cautious.
"I learned speech patterns to go with my informant training." You explained.
"Figured." Kyle said. "So what have I given away?"
The question is phrased in a way that sounds lighthearted, but you get the feeling he's both testing you and wishing he'd been more careful about talking to you. The more open and forward you are the better it would be later on. "How much of a dressing down do you want?"
Kyle shrugged. May as well give him the fullset. "You told me everyone's name and nickname, while giving me one thing to focus on for each of them in terms of appearance. Instead of telling me what hybrid they are you described their more human aspects. You're attempting to make me feel comfortable with them by providing me with friendlier terms to refer to them. Instead of focusing on what makes them different you mention the things they have the most in common which is their humanity. In summary you're sizing me up - no pun intended - while wanting me to be more relaxed and comfortable with the rest of you."
"Yep." Kyle said simply. You gave him a double take. Was that a test?! Kyle just shook his head smirking. Not the usual response but you appreciated how he took it.
"Can I be informal about this meeting?" You asked Price.
"You have the floor use it as you see fit." Price said. Oh boy, this would be a trip.
"Okay, first and foremost, there is more than one target. You have a server room that I'm not even sure could be called that, and there's a main office holding both written files and a computer. Second, this place has gone through more renovations than I can count. There are plenty of ways in, but each one has something either blocking it or guarding it, which will take more than a smile to get in."
"More than lockpicking as well?" Rudy asked.
"Or breaking down the door, not saying brute force and ignorance isn't an option, but I don't recommend the latter." You added. Simon was looking over the map you had spread out.
"Where are the targets?" He requested. You marked them and they were some distance apart. The server room was in the general center, with the main office being further from the entrance. "You have a main one?"
"I was going to ask about that." You said. "How much data do you want?"
"All of it." Price answered simply. You thought so.
"Server would get you plenty of files but they'll likely be encrypted, office would get you their main computer which could also be locked pretty tight, and the option of hard copies, but that's if they have hard copies." You explained quickly. Getting everything would be an option it was more how much they wanted to break stuff.
"All of it." Price repeated.
"Okay," You sighed. "If you look at the papers there's maps and times for the guard's rotations, which aren't the most consistent, but are close enough, during events and meetings they put in the effort to cover up a bit more. Their vehicles are no exception, those illegal tints are probably hiding radios, and hidden compartments."
"The van is modded too?" Kyle asked, looking at the photos you'd gotten from the drone. Sketchy white van parked out front.
"Spoilers." You told him. "But yes... and no. The cartel gets businesses to come in and work on their stuff under the table, all of it is done in cash and off record, but it's not always the same person. Before Kyle said anything that would be the first way in but that would get civilians involved."
The team didn't want to get innocent people involved, even if they were doing sketchy business. The team examined the work you'd put together. There were plenty of scribbled notes, photos, and maps to go over but Price could see through all your work.
"Do you have any other suggestions?" He asked you.
"Sadly, no. I wasn't exactly the planner when it came to these things. One thing I can tell you that is close to a suggestion, is that the place's security system is like a smart home. System sends a signal anytime someone interacts with it. If someone is taken off or put on the system, ping. Door unlocked or locked, ping. Car leaves the premises, ping."
"Windows?" Soap asked.
"It's a way in, but a way to be seen as well. I get most of your guys are bulletproof to a degree, but I'm not." You explained. They could cover you, that wasn't a massive issue.
"Could we take out the guards, replace them?" Alejandro asked.
"Theoretically yes, it would require them to leave the premises and a car jacking." You explained. Less violence required, and you were starting to map some more things out in your head.
"That will work, but then how do we reach the targets?" Price asked. Ghsot and Rodolfo could get through easily enough and unlock the doors from the other side. Price and Gaz would be able to hide among the guards as easily with their wings, so they could provide recon and a distraction while the rest broke in. Meanwhile you would get into the computer and servers directly, retrieving the target. There was one problem though. How would you get in? Your ears could be stuffed into a ski mask with some discomfort and your tail could go around your midsection under your clothes, but...
"One problem... I'm a little short for stormtrooper." You mentioned. You didn't like it, but they found a way.
Night before the mission you were curled up in the rec room with your notebook. You were journaling. It was the one thing you could do when you were incarcerated, and your therapist recommended it. One mission and you would be able to walk outside again. Felt good to write about it. Your ears twitched hearing someone walk in.
"Looks like there's a creature stirring." Soap said, joining you. You rolled your eyes, but gave him a friendly enough smile. You sat in silence for a moment before Soap decided now was a perfect time to get personal with you. "What were you in for?"
"It's in my file." You answered.
"Didn't bother reading it. I prefer the source, more accurate." He replied. You looked over your journal and tucked up knees at him. It wasn't to catch you off guard, or anything, he wanted to hear your side.
"Hacked into National Security." You said, finishing the sentence you were on before closing your journal.
"That all?" He asked.
"I was... ordered to. I broke in, obtained files on suspoected war criminals, my commanding officer gave me the okay, said he'd gotten a warrant and everything. Tried arguing with him, and... he convinced me it was for the best. We were catching criminals, terrorists. Well he never got the warrant, and the next thing I know I'm on trial, hearing how many people I hurt through my actions." You said.
"What about your superior?" Soap asked. You felt something boiling inside of you. The night he'd come to see you to warn you about the trial, you thought he would defend you. You retold your side to him, despite him knowing it. His final words to you stung. In the end it was your hand on the trigger.
"Haven't seen him." You said, shrugging. "Got plenty of tats in prison though."
"Really?" Soap asked, giving in to the subject change. He'd only seen the one star on your neck. YOu set you journal aside, and pulled up your hoodie and shirt to show your ribs and some beautiful inked works. "Is that recent?"
"The snake is yeah." You said. You're pretty sure the reason the hybrids were more comfortable around you was because of your small size. As a mouse you're less of a threat, but you have a criminal record. Soap wasn't put off by it, none of them were. You'd heard things about the 141, some of the skeletons they might have in their closet. You assumed there was little room to throw stones in the glass house. "Tomorrow is gonna suck."
"Why? The plan is solid." Soap said. Yeah for him maybe, not for you. Maybe that was why he was being friendly, so you wouldn't get back at him for roughing you up. You gave him a look, and he failed to hide his grin. "It's a solid plan."
Oh yeah yeah, solid FUCKing plan Soap. Laugh it up. He was snickering about it when everything was being planned out too. Were you laughing about it too? Yes, but it was a bit of reluctant laugh, like when you know you've lost a bet and have to get drenched by a water balloon.
"Permission to speak freely?" You asked Alejandro who was ziptying your hands behind your back. Something about him having to kneel down to do so was forcing Soap to hide his face. God he was a fucking child sometimes. Kyle was doing the same, but it was more towards Soap and his childish humour.
"Always." Alejandro said.
"Thanks." You said. "Hey Soap? Fuck off."
"Aye. Remember who's dragging in you in there." Soap said.
"Aye, remember who can make you sketchy dating profiles." You reminded him. Soap put his hands up in surrender. Alejandro was nice enough to help you get on the edge of the open truck before applying zipties to legs. "The leg ones necessary?"
"Yep." Alejandro said simply. He finished up and stood up straight. Rudy put the bag over your head, as you got yourself to awkwardly roll into the trunk. Before shutting the door you heard Ghost.
"Comfortable?" He asked. Not really, you were stuck laying on your arms but being on your stomach wouldn't be any better. You were able to nod under the hood, and give out a muffled, good. Then the trunk closed.
Didn't take long for you to figure out why they put leg ties on you. As soon as they arrived, and pulled you out of the trunk, you got hoisted on to a shoulder. You don't know who it was but they maintained the cover, with no signs of laughter.
You kept quiet, letting them carry you inside. You heard Alejandro talking to someone. You couldn't make out the words, he was speaking Spanish. There was some back and forth and you think you hear the word ninos. Other guy probably thought you were a kid. You started moving again, and held back a sigh of relief.
A door was opened, and two things were put in your hands as you were laid on the floor. You were given a pat down, the equipment under your hoodie was ignored. The door was closed and locked. Your shoulder was starting to feel sore again, only having short relief from the car ride. You continued to wait patiently. You've waited ten years to see the world again, what was a few more minutes? You felt something nudge you and you knew it was go time.
You sat up, and carefully opened the blade. You got the zipties on your wrists cut and then moved to your leg-SHIT! That fucking smarts... okay legs ties were off. Should've shaken the bag off first. You checked the damage real quick. You'd cut your hand, enough to cause bleeding but not deep enough to warrant stitches. You looked at the thing that nudged you, a cadejo, who showed some concern for your injury.
"Go, I'll be fine." You ordered quietly. then you put the ear piece in. Immediately Rudy asked if you were okay, and if you needed anything. You assured them you were okay but would need an extra minute. The hood was the best option, so you cut some pieces of it of with the knife. They were tucked against the wound, and then you got your gloves on. It was going to hurt as you looked up at the vent shaft above you. They'd put you in a storage closet, classy. Thankfully the vent grate wasn't bolted. You could hear the team going over other parts of the plan while you focused on your own.
One hop up, and you were able to get the ve-dang it. Okay come on. Come on! Get the right gri-there you go! You got the grate off and set it aside. For anyone else your size, the shaft would be tight. You were a mouse hybrid. You could squeeze into plenty of small places. The vent was no exception. You got low to ground, shifting your feet for the right stance, and then sprung upwards.
You got your hands into the shaft and on to the edge of the tunnel. With some small swinging of your legs, you hoisted yourself further inside, getting the rest of your body in. As you shuffled along, poking your head around to check for any risks you continued to listen to the team. They were making their way to finding the security cameras, intending to watch over you so no one would suspect anything. Ghost was making his way to the server room where you were headed while Rudy was lingering by the main office.
Thankfully there weren't many issues, once you got to the server room, but your hand was starting to sting. Shit, you could feel the blood sticking to your glove. Once you reached the server room you tried testing your hand, applying some pressure. Yeah you were going to need some help getting down, otherwise you might just hurt yourself more. You touched your earpiece.
"Ghost I'm at the server room, what's your location?" You asked, keeping your voice down.
"On my way still. Security cams have been secured, you're clear to engage." Ghost informed you.
"I'm gonna need you inside." You admitted.
"Need medical?" He asked.
"I might." You said. Ghost picked up his pace a little, keeping an eye out for anyone else. Once he reached the server room, he stood, doing a scan of the hall and ensuring he wouldn't be noticed befor slipping inside, through his own shadow. You were still waiting above the room, carefully removing the grate and pulling it up into the shaft with you.
"Where are you?" Ghost asked. You saw a figure moving below you.
"Still in the shaft." You admitted. The figure looked up and saw you.
"Stop fucking around and get down." Ghost hissed at you.
"Needed a spotter." You told him, cautious slipping down and dangling by your good hand. Something wrapped around your leg, and you realize Ghost is keeping a grip on you with some shadow manipulation. Once your feet were on the ground, you got to work while Ghost got a first aid kit that was thankfully hanging on the wall. You started typing away on your laptop, after retrieving it from the bag under your hoodie. You had a program put together already that would duplicate items, making identical replicas of the files as if they were never accessed or touched.
Once you got the right cords hooked up to your laptop, you let the program play out. Thankfully you could get quite a few files from the servers alone. It meant some impatient waiting, but Ghost had a way to pass the time. Cleaning your wound properly and getting some proper bandages. You set your laptop aside while Ghost set himself on the floor. You held out your hand for him and hissed at the stinging of the alcohol.
"Do me a favour when you get back." Ghost said, wrapping the guaze around your hand. Simon was surprisingly gentle when it came to patch ups. "The coward that put you in jail, make sure he pays up."
"Laswell told me she was looking into it. Don't worry." You assured him. Ghost had his commanding officer fuck him over too, but he'd had it a lot worse. You flexed your hand a bit to test the wrappings before Ghost applied tape.
"Soap to Ghost." Soap was heard in both your ear pieces. Ghost packed the kit up quickly, getting Soap to continue. "There's a guard approaching, west side."
"Company?" He asked.
"Find cover." Soap said confirming. You looked at the program still running. Unplugging it would mess up the files, you know that. Ghost could hide no problems there, but you were a different story. Seeing your panic, Ghost ordered you to get on top of the server towers. You looked at your laptop, but he hissed for you to leave it. Yep you weren't going to argue with him. Ghost instead hid beside the tower closest to the door, while you waited on the tower. You kept glancing down to see if the program had finished yet. Almost. Come on, come on, come o-the door opened and you pressed yourself against the top of the tower as much as you could.
The guard walked in casually, likely a routine check-up, make sure no one was fucking around on duty, literally and figuratively. The door slowly closed behind the guard while you held your breath. You know Ghost isn't gonna kill em, if he does it will raise alarms if anyone finds him. Knocked out, it could be from anything. Ghost readies himself, shifting his weight to go in for a headlock. Then the guard stops and starts patting his pockets. Holy shit there was no fucking way. The guard turned and freaking left?!
"Click, where are we at with the files." Ghost asked as soon as the door shut behind the guard. You glanced down again.
"Done." You whispered with excitement. Okay, one down, one more to go.
"The guard is leaving, you need to move." You heard Alejandro say. Didn't need to tell you twice. You hopped down from the tower, and unplugged your laptop, stashing it away quickly. Ghost left the room the same way he came in. Once you had you gloves back on you got back to vent. You moved quickly knowing it the guard could return again, even with Ghost out there lingering. The office was a much longer way to go, with plenty more vents along the way. You overheard some muffled conversations, casual stuff from guards and other cartel members.
"Click hold up." You heard over the comms. You stopped, looking through the vent grate. You had a tracker pinging your location through the shafts, so the team knew where you were for each room. You noticed a group of people chatting, all masked. Your small size, meant less weight so no issue with making too much noise. You could hear Soap's irritation over comms.
"Soap, status?" Ghost requested.
"There's someone else in the office, talking to the leader. They're chatting and friendly by the looks of it."
"You need a distraction?" Gaz offered. He and Price had been pretty quiet throughout the mission thus far.
"Alejandro?" Soap asked.
"In position." He said. After a confirmation from Price you start to hear a loud ruckus. The men below look around confused, unsure of what they were hearing. Then you hear Alejandro barking orders at them in Spanish and they start moving. You needed to move to. Rudy would have to make himself scarce, so you would only have Soap as your eyes through the walls. You're a little ways from the main office when you hear a noise in your earpiece followed by Soap cursing again.
"Soap status?" Ghost asked, more concern in his voice.
"Shift change." He said quietly. Okay now you had to move faster and you scurried through to office, overhearing a commotion from Soap, likely dealing with his shift change. Get in and get out, the commotion will pull the leader away. Rudy confirmed it. Except the leader's guest was still in there, with Rudy guarding the door. You saw them once you reached the office, and saw him sitting casually at the desk, as if he were just waiting for his boss to return so they could keep up their friendly chat.
You kept an eye on him, waiting for the commotion on Soap's end to finish. The extra occupant was an unplanned variable. There was no back-up plan aside from the distraction. Damn it this made things more complicated. "We have a John Smith in the office."
Soap stopped whatever he was doing with the guard and returned to cameras. He saw the extra variable. You had to wait for orders, and heard him talking to Simon about what they could do to get rid of the guy. Killing him would be the easiest but it's harder to cover up as opposed to a quiet infiltration. Your ears flattened, as you let yourself relax in the tight space for a moment. You arms were getting sore from holding yourself up. Mad props to the soldiers who could do it under long stretches of dirt and mud.
John Smith got up from his chair and started to walk around the room. You reported it, and heard Soap, Ghost and now Alejandro debating what they could do. Then the stranger turned, letting you get a good look at his face. Your ees widen, and you cover your mouth to keep yourself from gasping. No, there was.... no. That fucking bastard.
"I don't recognize him." Alejandro said.
"I... I do." You said, trying to control your emotions. The soft white noise of the comms was deafening as you remembered the night at your apartment, when he came to see you. You thought he came to be friendly, but you were naive. Thinking you were doing the right thing.
"Click, we need a name." Ghost said, having to repeat himself. You gave his name and his rank. The team realized your connection to him immediately.
"Permission to engage?" You asked. Price needed a moment to think about it.
"Can you keep control?" He asked.
"Affirm."
"Engage, you do not have execute authority." Price ordered.
That's all you needed, as you got the vent grate off. You waited for him to come into view, being sure he could hear the noise. As soon as he was in view, the grate was angled and aimed. You forced it down as hard as you could and hit him in the head, making him stumble back and fall against the desk. You didn't know it but the noise form outside the office caused Rudy whip around. He'd heard the order but didn't know what you'd done.
You dropped down with ease, landing in a crouch while your old boss groaned. When you stand you keep an eye on him, pulling up your face mask. You heard Rudy ask if you wanted help. No you could handle this. Once again you plugged in your laptop to the main computer and ran the program. While that was running, you went back to your boss, who was slowly getting back up, and hit him in the stomach, getting him keel over. That was a mistake.
Your former boss is bigger than you, by a couple of feet. Keeling over he was able to grab you, and drag you with him to ground, pinning you down on your stomach. "Hey there mouse. Long time no see."
Of course he recognized you. You had been the shortest on your old team, and the only hybrid. He thought it would disarm you, but you freed your arm and elbowed him in the face, hard. Once he rolled off of you, you were much faster, climbing on top of him. His mistake was not wearing any armour. Jail time taught you some tactics as well. A quick comm to Rudy and you grabbed between your former boss's legs. You grabbed hard, fingers curved in. The look on hos face was so worth it.
Did he try to knock you off? Yep, but any attempts vanished when Rudy sent in the cadejos at your request. Both stood over him growling. When he tried to cry out, you covered his mouth. His pained muffled groans however would have left plenty of questions if there weren't visuals to back it up.
"Anybody have some questions for this guy? He's an informant working with a cartel after all. Not undercover either." You asked. They didn't admit it, but anyone seeing you on the cameras was wincing a little at yur methods.
"Is he a client of the cartel?" Price asked, unable to see what exactly was going on.
"Are you a client?" You asked him, uncovering his mouth.
"You're a rat bitch." He said. You squeezed, and admittedly, enjoyed his pained expression.
"Yeah I am, but that's not the fucking question." You told him. "Are you a client? Yes or no?"
"N-no." He managed. You loosened your grip.
"Why are you here then? Serve them with a warrant to check their liquor cabinet?" You asked, jerking your head towards the glass of alcohol on the desk.
"To keep your ass in check." He said. You squeezed again.
"You never needed to keep my ass in check. Try again!" You said.
"A business deal." He said quickly. You loosened and he sighed with some relief.
"See it'll hurt less if you do answer me nicely. Also keep in mind, we're in the very room containing documents that can easily disprove your statements." You said.
"Information... for product." He said. "Get off of me."
You stayed on top of him, because you wanted to do so much worse to him. In this moment you had the high ground, both physically and morally. You wanted to twist.
"Click, how long until you have the data?" Rudy asked. By now he'd probably seen what was going on. You needed to focus. Besides, now you had proof of his guilt and an extra reason to walk free after. You twisted your body and made out only a few seconds left on the screen. Your former boss tried to take advantage of your vulnerable state, but you were faster, punching him in the throat. Then you put your hands together into a fist and slammed down on his stomach, lifting your legs to bring more momentum with your weight. Yeah he wasn't going to get up any time soon.
Once you got off of him, you got to the other side of the desk, turning your laptop around to face you. Data completed. "Just need some hard copies."
"We're out of time Click, take what you have." Price said. Damn it, you got caught up in your personal drama. The cadejos vanished, returning to their vessel. As you watched them leave, your attention attached itself to some papers on the desk. A contract, with signatures. You took out your phone and started taking photos, as many as you could in between a rushed packing job. You even opened a desk drawer and took photos of the inside before putting the laptop in it's bag. Okay now it was time to go.
"I need an evac." You said.
"Rodolfo." Alejandro said. All he needed to say. Rudy came in and you put your hands up in surrender. The same routine as when it started, except he left your legs alone. Your buff went over your eyes and you were led out of the room. Your old boss was still on the ground groaning. Rudy took one look at him before turning and dragging you out of the room. You didn't see much of what happened after that.
Once you returned to base, you thanked Rudy for his help. Too much longer and Rudy might have passed out, you knew it was a risk. His only request was that on the off chance the two of you worked together, you warn him if you do something like that. You could agree to that.
As for the data you collected, it was enough to get the cartel taken down, and put plenty of people behind bars. You contract could also put your old superior away, and reopen the investigation into the crimes you'd committed. Until then you were permitted to remain on base, working through the intel you'd collected. Your assistance had been a great asset.
One day you get pulled into Price's office where he commends you on a job well done, especially when it had been so personal. Unfortunately, that was your one flaw, in your opinion. You made and took things personally. It was why you put on a sarcastic attitude from time to time.
"Yeah well, I had the motive of a hefty paycheck." You told him, cracking your back oulling your knee to your chest and resting your chin on it. It wasn't the real reason, but Price didn't call your bluff. That smug look you gave him was growing on him, ever so slightly.
"About that..." Price started. Your ears flattened, and your body straightened. What the fuck, you signed a contract! You should be getting paid. Price smirked at your insulted expression. "You're still getting paid, and a substantial amount."
"But?" you asked. Yeah there had to be more. No way there wasn't.
"You have a great skillset, you have a strong mentality, your abilities prove that you're a great asset, and you get along well with the rest of the men. That being said, I can't recruit you because of your criminal record. Laswell was adamant."
You fidgeted in the chair, listening intently to what he had to say. The captain slid a piece of paper across his desk. You took it and looked it over. "I could use someone like you on my team though."
Freelance work. The paper was another contract, for Price to have the ability to call on you should he need your services. It was tempting. The risk involved...
"I think I'd be better off giving you my number." You admitted. "I'm sorry Cap. Military and politics aren't the best for me. Learned that some time ago."
Price could've told you everything that was in that contract, how it ensured your immunity if charges were ever laid, the high prices they were willing to pay, and your freedom to turn down work. You'd already been screwed over hard by the system. Would the contract let you do what you did best? Yep. But it forced you to make judgment calls, ones that went wrong in the past. Price understands your concerns.
"Let me know when it changes." He said. You could agree to that.
You reclined in your chair with your headset and your feet on your desk. A video was playing in your ears, while you were gaming with the controller in your lap. After a long day you deserved some time to yourself. Your lamp was on to keep your eyes from watering, while your laptop ran through some programming and codes. You set the controller aside, to take another bite of your take out. You get two notifications on your phone which you check. The first is from your ankle bracelet having an issue. You contact the officer in charge of you, informing him that you're not doing anything and the bracelet is having problems.
The second is from a familiar name. You smiled, and called him. "Hello new phone, who dis?"
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf
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prettylilyanime · 2 months ago
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Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 05
˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader
˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.
˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder
˚✿˖ Authors note: subtle yn lore gets dropped here…
˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next
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After Bakugou had been generous enough to help haul in your endless pile of boxes—a consequence of your admittedly irresponsible spending—it seemed he decided to spare you further torment by announcing his departure.
Something about heading to the training arena to "get some real work done."
Not that his presence was bad.
No, it was torturous in the best way possible!
The I-want-him-to-stay-in-my-room-forever-and-keep-calling-me-princess kind of way.
Did that sound crazy?
Even with your ever-growing crush on the blonde, you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you at his exit.
He’d seen you like this—flustered, fumbling, barely holding yourself together—had even insisted you put on those stupid glasses, and yet…
Somehow, it wasn’t as horrible as you expected.
A warm flutter settled in your chest at the realization. He hadn’t cared about your appearance, hadn’t picked you apart like so many others had. It was a refreshing change from the judgment you’d grown used to.
You never quite understood why people felt so comfortable talking about your looks.
You barely felt comfortable talking to people, period.
And yet, strangers—people who didn’t know a thing about you—felt entitled to comment.
Your figure was amazing. Your hair looked great. What diets had you gone on?
God…
Bakugou didn’t seem to care about any of that.
His focus had been on your vision—or lack thereof. A stupid little thing, but the fact that he didn't seem to care about your looks made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.
Now, left alone in the quiet of your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed, manicured fingers scrolling through your phone.
Your official account, @OfficiallyFlora, gleamed on the screen. The blue checkmark beside your username felt more like a weight than an accomplishment.
Your profile picture, an overly polished shot of you in your glittering hero costume—stared back at you. The flawless image, taken against a pristine white backdrop, was the product of your mother’s money and marketing efforts.
It was perfect. Too perfect.
Too pretty. Too refined. Too far from the girl sitting here now, sock clad in her bedroom, still reeling from the lingering scent of caramel and smoke that Bakugou had left behind.
Are your teeth really even that white in person?
You don’t know…
Your bio reads: Official Page of Pro-Hero Prospect Flora, making your hearts bloom with every step towards justice!
You sighed, rolling your eyes hard enough to strain something. The bio had been written by your mother’s PR team, dripping with saccharine energy that made you cringe every time you read it.
The rest of your feed wasn’t much better: high-definition shots of battles, cherry blossom-themed merch promotions, and glamorous magazine features.
It was a glossy, manufactured version of you that bore little resemblance to the person staring at the screen, glasses perpetually sliding down her nose.
Growing bored of the staged content, you switched to your private account.
Your followers on this one are, well. Your classmates, surprisingly enough, and one of your mother's pool boys who had asked for your Instagram years ago before you ever even had an official page in hopes of getting to talk to you more?!
You can't help but quirk a brow, you should really get him off your page...
Here, the photos were more personal: snapshots of your travels, close-ups of meals you’d enjoyed, and a random assortment of things that caught your eye.
The likes rarely climb beyond single digits, but it was real and a better representation of yourself than the other page.
A pang of curiosity struck as your fingers moved on autopilot, typing in Bakugou’s name.
His official account, curated by Best Jeanist’s team, popped up first. His posts were as structured as yours—action shots, hero promotions, and carefully orchestrated PR moves.
But unlike how you felt about your feed, his action shots were breathtaking.
One image, in particular, caught your attention: Bakugou holding a tiny kitten that had been stuck in a tree. His sharp features softened as he cradled the fluffy creature, his biceps bulging against his hero suit.
You snorted, amused by the juxtaposition. No matter how intimidating he looked, the sight of him with a kitten was almost too much.
Shaking your head, you scrolled through some of your classmates’ accounts. Their updates showed them at the beach, enjoying pizza nights, and huddled around a glowing campfire.
Seems like without Bakugou around to act as head chef, they had to order takeout instead.
You frowned, an unshakable pit forming in your stomach.
You drop your phone onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. Maybe what you needed was a nice meal—something indulgent to shake off the restless energy.
The thought of heading to the nearest convenience store for another pint of ice cream crosses your mind, the idea warm and tempting. But no.
Not this time.
Instead, maybe you could make an effort. Doll yourself up a bit, put on some makeup, and head out into town. Who needs a big group when you’ve got yourself?
Determined to follow through, you sit up and scan the endless boxes of your new purchases. Finally, you land on a little buttercup-yellow tweed Chanel set, complete with a mini skirt and cropped blazer.
You slip it on, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly and highlighting your silhouette in all the right places.
Hell, for this price point, it better do all of the above!
You turn to your vanity, reaching for your makeup bag. You opt for a soft, casual look—subtle yet radiant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. Twinkly in all the right places.
To complete the look, you sling a new ivory-colored purse over your shoulder. A cute yellow dandelion charm clipped to the side adds just the right touch of cuteness.
Standing in front of the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. You look polished, confident, like someone ready to take on the evening—even if it’s a solo adventure.
Maybe you’d check out that new sushi spot closer to home!
Yeah, it’s fine that your classmates wouldn’t join you! They'd probably just make you more anxious anyways.
But as you’re heading downstairs and toward the door, you suddenly freeze. A realization dawns on you.
Hajime has the weekend off.
You groan out loud. How are you going to get there? You can’t drive!
Frustration bubbles up, and you slap your forehead. Were you really this helpless? The thought makes you wince, embarrassment creeping in at the edges of your thoughts.
"If I speak, you gonna jump and scream again?" A voice, an irritatingly familiar voice announces his presence.
The familiar gruff voice startles you, and admittedly, you do almost scream. Holding it back though, you whirl around to see Bakugou having just walked out of the elevator behind you.
He seems freshly showered, with his hair still a bit damp, out and pushed back from his handsome face. You could smell him from where you're standing.
Ugh, delicious as usual.
“You did kind of surprise me,” you admit, voice sheepish as your eyes dart away from him.
His eyes roam over your figure quickly, though you don't notice the action over your own mourning of the evening.
“You’re going out?”
The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it, and if he could, he’d smack himself upside the head. Why the hell did he even ask? It’s obvious you are. And more importantly—why is he even starting a conversation in the first place?
Up until literally yesterday, you were just another classmate. Background noise. But these back-to-back interactions are becoming unavoidable, and unfortunately, you’re slipping out of the backdrop and into his world.
You shake your head, lips pulling into a soft, resigned smile. “Well, I was going to, but… I just realized I don’t have any way of getting there.”
“Hah? Can’t take the train?”
Heat blooms across your face, creeping down your neck. “Oh, well… I’ve never taken public transportation.”
There’s a beat of silence—just long enough for you to see the exact moment Bakugou short-circuits.
“Is that some shitty joke?”
You thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn hotter, but—oh, look at that! They can!
“I- um, well, no. It’s not.” You swallow, fiddling with the strap of your ivory purse. “Hajime’s driven me everywhere since I was little.”
He blinks, slowly. More in disbelief than anything.
“Hajime?”
You nod. “Yeah, um… my personal driver.”
For a second, you think he might actually roll his eyes. On anyone else, the whole spoiled rich kid routine would piss him off. But with you, it’s different.
Maybe it’s the way you look so flustered, like you’re embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s the way your voice dips, like you’re apologizing for just existing.
Either way, it leaves him feeling something weird—something dangerously close to wanting to help. Again.
Twice in one day. A world record, if he says so himself.
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”
You wince, shoulders curling inward. “I know! It’s bad, okay? But it’s just how I was raised…”
How you were raised?
Bakugou’s brow lifts slightly. So what, you were raised to be a stay-at-home daughter? Spend money like it’s a full-time job?
He knows about your family. Everyone does.
A mother who inherited an entire hero firm from your grandparents—a dynasty so powerful its stocks and investments practically fuel Japan’s economy. And a father who died in the field before you were even born—a rising star in the hero world, gone far too soon.
Your mother, a young heiress to millions. Your father, a pro hero at the height of his career. Expecting their first child. A baby girl—you.
And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.
A mission gone wrong.
A hero lost.
Your father’s death sent shockwaves through the country, leaving Japan in mourning—not just for the man he was, but for the legend he never got the chance to become.
He doesn’t say anything right away—just stares at you with an unreadable expression that makes your stomach churn.
Then, without warning, he mutters, “Get your stuff. We’re going.”
Your head snaps up. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me.” He’s already pulling on his sneakers, his movements brisk and determined. “No way in hell am I letting you graduate from U.A. without knowing how to take a damn train. That’s pathetic.”
“Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”
“Second time today.” He cuts you off with a sharp look over his shoulder. “It’s already happening. Move it, princess.”
Your mouth opens, ready to argue—but the words die in your throat when you see the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze. He’s not going to back down.
You’re not sure what’s more overwhelming—the idea of taking your first train ride…
Or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one dragging you along for the ride.
You gulp, hurrying after him as he strides out of the dormitory, his natural pace effortlessly long and brisk. You almost trip trying to keep up, the heels of your boots clicking against the pavement.
God, why does he walk so fast?
“We’ve got a station down the block from the UA gates,” he says, barely glancing at you. “We’ll go to that one.”
You nod, stiff as a board. “Gotcha. So, um… where did you want to go?”
His blonde brow arches, the side of his lip curling like you just said something unbelievably stupid. “What? This isn’t about me. This is about teaching you how to get on a damn train.”
You wince, embarrassed. “Right. That makes sense.”
The two of you walk in relative silence, the crisp evening air settling over you like a thin veil.
The streets leading to the station aren’t crowded, but there are enough people out that you can feel the occasional passing glance—whether they recognize you as a hero-in-training or simply because you look like you don’t belong in a place as mundane as a train station, you’re not sure.
Your perfectly tailored blazer, Italian leather purse, and neatly manicured nails feel almost too polished for the scuffed pavement beneath your feet.
Bakugou, on the other hand, fits in seamlessly.
His hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his comfy sweatpants loose around his legs and tight at his waist.
He looks completely at ease, like this is just another part of his day—meanwhile, your heartbeat is rattling in your ears at the thought of navigating a train station for the first time.
After a few minutes, you reach the station entrance, the underground stairway yawning open before you. A few commuters shuffle past, swiping their cards at the turnstiles, moving like they’ve done this a million times.
You, however, stay frozen at the top of the stairs.
Bakugou doesn’t notice at first, too busy pulling out his own train pass. But when he looks up and sees you still standing there, brows drawn tight with hesitation, he sighs.
“Seriously?” He tilts his head, exasperation flickering in his red eyes. “It’s just a staircase, princess.”
“I know it’s just a staircase,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing down at the tiled steps leading into the station.
You’ve never been in one of these before, never had to navigate the organized chaos of public transport, never had to think about swiping a train card or picking a route.
A ridiculous thought hits you—you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you don’t know how to take a train… or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one who has to teach you.
You bite your lip, it's silly and you know it. “What if I mess up?”
Bakugou stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he snorts.
“With that attitude, you’re definitely gonna mess up. Sour face you got going on”
Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
His smirk is almost smug. “But that’s the whole damn point. You mess up, you figure it out, and then you won’t be a clueless dumbass next time.”
You scowl. “Your motivational speeches suck.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes before nudging your shoulder—just a small push, barely enough to make you step forward, but it’s enough to shake you out of your own head.
“Come on,” he mutters, starting down the stairs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
You inhale sharply and, with no other choice, follow him down.
The air shifts as you descend—cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of rails and the distant hum of an approaching train. Your grip tightens around the strap of your purse, nerves bubbling in your chest.
Why is everything so loud down here?!
Bakugou moves ahead, seamlessly navigating through the turnstiles. He scans his card with an effortless flick of his wrist, stepping through without hesitation.
You, on the other hand, stop in front of the machine, frowning at it like it’s a puzzle you weren’t given the pieces to.
Bakugou turns, watching you expectantly.
“Well?” he drawls.
You glance at the screen, then back at your card. “Do I just… tap it?”
“No, you rub it on the damn thing and hope it opens.”
Your glare is sharp, but you say nothing, instead hesitantly pressing the card against the sensor. The gate beeps, unlocking with a mechanical click.
You blink. That’s it?
“Wow, you did it.” Bakugou’s tone is mockingly slow, like he’s congratulating a toddler for taking their first steps.
You don’t know how, when, or what possesses you with a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out, shoving his shoulder.
His muscled frame barely budges under your touch, solid beneath the fabric of his hoodie.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He snorts, a short chuckle slipping out as he steps toward the platform, the train’s arrival chime ringing through the station.
Then, as you approach the edge of the platform, a realization slams into you like a ton of bricks.
“…Wait.” You stop in your tracks, eyes widening. “How do I know which train to take?”
Bakugou exhales so deeply it sounds like his soul is actively trying to escape his body.
“God help me.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying something he’ll regret.
For the first time today, you swear he actually looks pained.
Oh lord. Oh good grief. If you were just about anybody else right now, Bakugou wouldn’t just be snapping—he’d be out of here so fast, you’d be left choking on smoke.
The fact that a pro-hero-in-training, someone who’s supposed to be saving lives, has never taken a damn train is the kind of thing that should be illegal.
So why is he still here?
Why hasn’t he turned on his heel, thrown up his hands, and left you to fend for yourself like any rational, self-respecting person would?
He blinks, his gaze lingering on your face, and for a brief moment—so fast you almost miss it—you swear there’s something unreadable flickering behind those sharp red eyes.
Maybe it’s the way your lashes frame your doe-like eyes, dark and long, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks. Curse you and your stupid, stupid eyes. Is this some kind of second quirk? A hypnosis ability?
Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the way you fidget without realizing it.
Your hands twist together, fingers tangling like they’re trying to hold onto something steady.
Absentmindedly, you twirl the diamond-encrusted eternity band on your index finger, turning it over and over in a nervous rhythm. It catches the dim station light, flashing every time you spin it.
Bakugou’s gaze follows the movement, and something about the unconscious gesture makes his scowl deepen.
“…Tch.” He clicks his tongue, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You really are helpless, huh?”
The words are gruff, edged with frustration, but he still doesn’t walk away.
Instead, he takes a step toward you, nodding toward the digital display overhead. The glowing letters flicker slightly, listing station names, times, and train lines in a way that makes your head spin.
“C’mon, dumbass. I’ll show you how to read the damn schedule before you get yourself lost in the middle of the city.”
Relief washes over you as you quickly follow his lead. “Ah, thank you!”
“Don’t thank me… just pay attention.”
And you do. You pay such good attention that by the time you finally grasp how the whole system works, you’re practically bouncing on your heels in excitement, a bright grin stretching across your face.
You stand on the platform, buzzing with a newfound confidence, while Bakugou—looking as perpetually unimpressed as ever—waits beside you with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.
Then, the distant hum of the train grows louder, and soon enough, the sleek cars pull into the station with a sharp metallic whir.
The doors slide open, and you eagerly step forward, your heeled boots clicking against the platform as you move inside. Bakugou follows closely behind, scanning the interior in one quick glance.
The train is relatively full—enough that only one open seat remains near the doors. Without hesitation, Bakugou nudges you toward it.
“Sit,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto the nearest safety pole as the doors begin to close.
You shake your head, brushing him off. “I’m okay.”
He scoffs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “The train moves fast and isn’t super smooth. I’m sure you don’t wanna go through all that with those on.”
You glance down at your shoes—sleek, heeled boots, stylish but sturdy. Your lips curve into a small smile.
“I’ll have you know my hero costume boots are even higher than these.”
His brow arches slightly, the hint of sarcasm sparking in his eyes. “Yeah? I’m impressed, considering how fast you ran away from me on day one.”
Oh, hell.
Heat creeps up your neck at the reminder, your confidence faltering for a split second. But you recover quickly, squaring your shoulders with a dramatic huff.
“Wow, Bakugou Katsuki, impressed? By little ol’ me?” You place a hand over your heart, feigning exaggerated awe. “It’s an honor.”
He snorts, shaking his head, but there’s something unreadable in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer.
Then, the train lurches forward.
Despite all your earlier bravado, you do wobble slightly—just enough for Bakugou’s smirk to return in full force.
“…Told you to sit, dumbass.”
But you can’t.
Not because you’re too stubborn. Not because you’re still trying to prove a point.
But because—oh.
A singular, large hand is suddenly tight on your waist, steadying you with an effortless grip.
Oh my.
Who needs a safety rail when Pro Hero Dynamight is holding you like this?!
You internally scream, the realization hitting you all at once. The touch itself isn’t anything crazy—it’s barely even a thing, just a reflex, something automatic, instinctual. Nothing compared to the absolute torture of this morning’s, uh, straddling situation.
And yet, this feels just as bad—if not worse.
Why? Because Bakugou, in all his brash, loud, obnoxious glory, doesn’t even seem to realize he’s still holding onto you.
His grip is firm, warm even through the thick expensive fabric of your clothes, and worst of all? It lingers.
Still there.
Still present.
Still burning through your skin like a brand.
Oh, hell.
⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖
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r0ttenhearts · 2 years ago
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wasted on you
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idol! scaramouche x reader
sypnosis: after an argument with scaramouche he has to perform for a show. the show must go on, despite his mind being anywhere but the present
warnings: angst, arguments, no comfort
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“scara, we’re on in 5!”
“i know, i know. just give me a minute.”
scaramouche fumbled with his phone, typing a hasty response and sending it to you. it had only been a few hours since you last spoke, or fought. your angry voice still ringing in his ears, the harsh words left between you two as he left you there. alone.
it was eating at him, the way you looked so defeated. so done.
but you’d still show up for his show, right? you never missed one. even after bickering with him you’d always show. that smile on your face as he met you backstage after every show, embracing you while you praised him for a job well done.
he hoped that would be the case as he stood next to his friends, ready to perform that tedious dance routine heizou had choreographed for the group. painted nails adjusted his mic, a wide smile plastered on his face as he moved with his friends in sync.
his dark eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your usual spot he’d get you tickets for. the memory made him smile, your complaints of not getting the best view when he’d given you a different spot.
his smile faltered for a moment before perking back up as he realized you weren’t there. that comforting presence he’d always find when he felt the most nervous about his ability to perform wasn’t there. the one person he wanted to watch him wasn’t there.
“if you’re going to keep whining why don’t you just leave?”
“do you mean that scara?”
“i can’t even bother to look at your face right now. archons, don’t you see how lucky you are to have me? i could have anyone but i chose you.”
“maybe i shouldn’t have.”
his blood ran cold, recalling his words to you. he hadn’t meant it. he only said it in the moment because he was so angry. so angry about you pestering him. so what if your third year anniversary was on the same day of the concert? you knew how important it was to him, right?
more important than your relationship.
the rest of the concert droned on. he felt like a zombie, the same strenuously practiced choreography being repeated once more to a crowd of thousands of fans. the same songs he’d practiced with the group leaving his lips until they left the stage, heading back to their dressing rooms backstage.
he hoped, prayed, that you’d be there, sitting in his chair and ready to give him a hug. but you weren’t. he was greeted with nothing but an empty room, his makeup on the dresser left the way he had abandoned it. scara swallowed thickly as he pulled out his phone, opening your chat. his heart dropped seeing the “delivered” notification missing.
a dry laugh escaped his lips, almost collapsing at his dresser chair. his fingers tapping on his screen harshly.
scara: (y/n)? did you really block me
scara: this isn’t funny
scara: don’t be like this please.
scara: i didn’t mean it, you know that
he could feel a lump well up in his throat as the “not delivered” notification popped up. his phone was just acting up, right? you didn’t leave him. you couldn’t have. you promised him you’d always be there for him, especially after his mother left him.
it seemed cruel, the way he checked all of his social media accounts to see that you had blocked him on every single one. your bio now missing a ring emoji that you both once had on your profile.
tears welled up in his eyes, fist slamming on his dresser as he thought back to the argument. the very thing that had led to this.
to say he had been stressed was an understatement. with both the concert and your anniversary coming up he was faced with the decision to pick between the two. it almost seemed too easy, but he couldn’t forget the way your face fell as he told you he was still planning to attend to the performance.
you understood, didn’t you? perfect little (y/n) always waiting for him. watching him as he played out his part in the career he enjoyed. he could make it up to you after the concert, anyway. your anniversaries would always come again, but he couldn’t leave his friends high and dry for some relationship.
they needed him! it wasn’t even a question when it came to the two.
but if you knew that, why were you so angry? why did you shout at him that you wanted him to pick you instead?
“i’m sick of this, scara! i want to feel important to you! i don’t want to come second to none for the things you care about!”
“what are you bitching about now? you say this like we haven’t already done something for the other two. stop whining.”
the angry tears in your eyes as you shoved him was not something he was used to seeing. he didn’t think you’d be so upset at the news. even through your anger, your silence scared him more.
“i just thought.. i mattered to you, scara. i guess after three years i still don’t get the memo..”
“don’t be stupid (y/n). if you behave after we can do whatever you want for this stupid anniversary. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re like a dog. threatening to bite but wagging your tail if i give you a crumb of a promise. it’s pathetic, really.”
“i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean it.” he whispered to himself, eyes glued to your profile that now had him blocked.
“i wish you wouldn’t—“
“are you gonna keep bitching?”
that was the last night he saw you, the last night he ever called you his. he sat alone in that dressing room, his red eyeliner smeared as he cried into his hands. it wasn’t like him at all. he hadn’t realized how much he needed that bond, that intimacy he craved as he’d been lacking in it since he was a child.
maybe then he’d learn to cherish the things he had, before he pushed them away. he’s made a nasty habit of that, hasn’t he?
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a/n: i got the idea to throw this together after the ask from @magica-ren so thank you!
part II
taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis
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usersanon · 1 year ago
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Please be aware of the user @/saintsugu also known as Ezra.
Past pseudonyms include (but are not limited to: @/aces_high
I never thought that I would have to create a post like this. In my near 12 years on the internet, I never thought I would have to write down the words I am about to type, especially about a fellow fanfic creator, one I used to enjoy before I found out about the type of person he really is. I apologise for the long post, however I want to make sure I am as thorough as possible so I can bring this person to justice.
Before opening the read more/ continuing with this post, please read the trigger warnings. This will deal with heavy topics, ones that make me sick to my stomach. I apologise for all of the censoring in this post as well.
TW: P*DOPHILIA, UNDER*GE, SEXUALIZATION OF EDS AND SH
I would just like to start off by saying how difficult this post is for me to write. I have had to take multiple breaks while typing this out. I have felt disgusted since I first saw the posts on his twitter. Like I need to take a shower and scrub myself clean, however, at the same time I feel like I cannot sit idly by while Ezra still has a platform.
The posts I have seen on his twitter, what he actively endorses is just disgusting and predatory in nature. I have done my best to censor them so as to not continue the spread of such material. As of the time of this post, his twitter is still public.
HIS TWITTER (X) IS CURRENTLY UNDER THE NAME @/ezr_ace
First, I’ll give evidence I have to prove that the twitter account stated above is in fact his. I was wary at first as well, however, I believe this evidence in fact proves that beyond reasonable doubt that the account is his.
The obvious reasoning is as follows: Ezra goes by the pseudonym Ezra currently, and has gone by the pseudonym Ace in the past. Both the twitter account and his tumblr state that he is 21. Both twitter and tumblr themes are the same in nature, featuring manga panels of Suguru edited in the same way.
If you’re familiar with Ezra at all, you would know that they are very close with another user, Flora, also known as @/fyogasm. Previously known as @/pussydrunkfyodor on tumblr. When going through the followers of this twitter account, I noticed someone by the name of Flora following him (one of about 34 followers), with the user @/floratumblr. This account had their tumblr linked in the bio of the profile, and it led straight to Flora’s tumblr. Screen recording is posted below:
UPDATE: since Ezra has been called out, Flora has unfollowed Ezra’s Twitter as well as deleted her account. I can only assume it is to try and dodge the backlash of being associated with him. Here are screenshots proving they are moots/ interacting with each other.
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Note: I do not know what this means for the content of Flora’s character. All I can say for certain is that she is close friends with him (to the point they have each others numbers), and that she follows his Twitter. I did not dive deep into her Twitter before she deleted it. But I can say that I do believe she knew the content he was posting about, otherwise she wouldn’t have deleted her Twitter the second he was called out while remaining mutuals with him on tumblr.
UPDATE 1/19/24 1:50 pm: Since creating this post, Flora has reached out and stated that they have broken all contact with Ezra. They state that they are not frequently on twitter, and was completely unaware of the type of content he was posting on the account. They state that the content found on the account has made them feel sick and that they are no longer friends anymore.
Back to the main point, this only adds to the similarities listed above. A close mutual that he has been seen actively talking to on his tumblr also follows him on twitter, endorsing his behavior. This alone was too much for me to ignore. However, one final factor came into play that solidifies that user ezr_ace and user saintsugu are the same Ezra.
He not only posted to his tumblr about hateful anon messages, but also his twitter at the same time. Right after the messages were sent, he tweeted the following, as well as posted the following messages on his tumblr. Screenshots with time stamps posted below:
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This for me, confirms that the two accounts are the same. There are simply too many coincidences for me to ignore. I feel that there is no argument about the validity of the accounts, as there are just too many similarities to ignore. Now, I can delve into what the post is really about. The content of the Twitter account.
P*DOPHILLIC ACTIONS AND UNDRE*GE CONTENT.
To put it simply, I was horrified when I first opened the profile to be greeted with Shotacon artwork. Full on artwork of an adult Toji a*saulting a child Gojo. In this artwork, Gojo looks as if he can be no older than 10. Most of the image is censored for obvious reasons, however, part of the screenshot appears in the video above as well. Proving that it cannot have been doctored in any way.
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As you can see, the post is tagged with tw sh*ta. For anyone unaware, the definition of Sh*ta is as follows: “Sh*ta is a term used in manga and anime fandoms to indicate sex involving an under*ge boy.” (Fanlore.org) Aka, CP.
It is disgusting to see someone who I once enjoyed, once trusted, interact with literal cp. Drawing or not, the effect of it is still massive. Viewing children (ANYONE UNDER*GE) in a sexual nature is harmful to everyone. It breaches past dark content into something horrible. Something dangerous.
I felt sick seeing someone be as brazen as to repost a picture of a child being a*saulted. To get off on it. It is p*dophilic. That is the only way it can be put.
Further on this, he has written smut of, in his words, “not necessarily under*ge” Suguru in highschool. There is a whole thread on it on his profile, however, I will not be showing it here. The screenshot below describes the nature of the whole post from his own words.
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When I first read “not necessarily under*ge”, my first and only question was literally, what the fuck does that mean? Either he is under*ge or not. There is not some fuzzy grey area coating the world between adults and children.
But sure, give him the benefit of the doubt. That does not excuse him liking multiple posts tagged with under*ge content. The most recent being less than an hour ago. Posts censored to the best of my ability below.
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These posts all point to the same thing. The disgusting, undeniable truth that this man is attracted to under*ge content. Content depicting minors in sexual scenarios. Content that no member of society should ever consume. He is a p*dophile. For viewing this content of his own accord. For liking it, for reblogging it. For creating it on his own. He is a disgusting person.
FOLLOWING MINORS.
Him interacting with content like that above, consuming it in any capacity at all makes him unsafe to be around. For anyone. Especially minors.
Even though his blog is 18+, even though he preaches that minors should stay away from his blog. He still found himself following a 16 year old. Becoming mutuals with them. The fact this person is 16 is clearly displayed on their blog as well (in their pinned post).
Screenshots shown below. The individual’s user is censored out as, once again, they are a minor and I don’t feel they should have to be wrapped up in this mess.
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Once again, Ezra is someone who preaches about minors staying out of adult spaces. Multiple times he has complained on his blog about minors following him and having to block them. You would think he does the same and would be more careful about curating his online spaces, however it he fails to do that.
I don’t believe this can be boiled down to a simple case of missing the age in their bio— this user has their age in their pinned post, as well as their about me. Along with the sexualisation of minors prevalent on his Twitter, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to know that he is following a minor in any capacity. I’m sure it would make anyone.
SEXUALIZING EDS AND SH.
To end the laundry list of posts on his twitter, we have him writing smut glorifying eds, as well as liking posts depicting sh in a sexual light. As always, screenshots are shown below, censored to the best of my ability.
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In the post listed above, Suguru is described in a way that is hard to stomach. While it is not nearly as bad as everything else stated above, I feel it is still necessary to include, especially because in this pairing he has often described and implied Suguru to be a minor. There is a line and he has crossed it several times, this is just another example of such. Serving as the cherry on top to further demonstrate his mindset.
Dark content and discussion of these subjects in fiction are not the problem. The disturbing part of this is that Ezra often uses these tropes within his min*r/adult sexual fantasies, and when paired with the sh*ta and under*ge content, leaves a very poor taste in the mouth. It comes across as not only a gross f*tishization, but a gross f*tishization of taking advantage of a minor that way.
A DISCUSSION ON THE LIMITS OF DARK CONTENT.
In this section, I feel that it is important to touch on how dark content plays into all of this. I’d like to expressly state that this is NOT a condemnation of dark content or its consumption.
Dark fiction and dark content are a fine line. It’s a fantastic tool for exploring taboos and emotions or experiences that aren’t often talked about openly. DC creates what is essentially a safe space for exploring things that are not typically done or seen in the real world, with the knowledge that writing or engaging with it does not necessarily mean condoning it. That being said, this callout post is NOT about being anti-dc. Dark content is a literary or artistic tool. Keeping all of this in mind, to actively engage with sh*ta content in which a character is depicted sexually not only as a minor, but as a child, and to be sexually aroused by that image is the definition of p*dophilia. Writing or drawing children and engaging with that content in a sexual capacity is p*dophilia and at the very least, has p*dophilic tendencies. This is not dark content, this is p*dophilia.
It is one thing to write or create dark fiction between adults for the purpose of gratification or exploration of social dynamics and it is entirely another to engage with art of a child engaging in sexual acts with an adult for (seemingly) the intent purpose of sexual gratification. Everyone draws their own line, but it is also important to acknowledge that there are some depictions of taboo subjects that border (if not fully step-into) harmful, p*dophilic content that perpetuates behavior and mental tendencies that truly are dangerous.
To engage with a drawing of a child and a full grown adult in sexual acts for the purpose of sexual gratification is incredibly fucked up. And the fact that minor and adult p*rnography are not just common, but dominating Ezra's twitter page, should be an absolute red flag. It’s okay to acknowledge that dark content is a medium for fiction while also acknowledging that there are some ways of engaging with it that are harmful, especially when it is so glaringly obvious that the content is between a child and an adult (the art I am talking about specifically really is a child. I don’t urge anyone to look at it, but it is gojo depicted as a child of maybe 8 - 10 years old. I’m not using the term child as an umbrella term for minors here).
The problem, stated very plainly, is that the post/s he is engaging with are sexual depictions of a child with the purpose of sexual gratification. That’s the point here. It’s not the dark content, but rather that he is retweeting posts depicting a child of about 8-10 engaged in sexual acts and created for the purpose of sexual gratification.
Once again, this is not a condemnation of dark content. Dark content can be used in so many valuable ways— facing trauma, dealing with taboo subjects, exploring the literary world in a safe and healthy way. As someone who actively consumes dark content, I will be the first to tell you this. However there should always be limits to the types of content produced. Gaining any kind of gratification from looking at a child being a*saulted is disgusting. It is p*dophillic. Especially when he actively engages with minors on his platform.
This is not a conversation of morals— which side is right and wrong. But rather a conversation about the safety of children. This is not a conversation about ageing up as that is not what he is doing. The characters being depicted here are not being aged up, rather are being depicted as minors, or literal children being used for the sexual gratification of adults.
The issue here is a p*dophile. Not dark content. Not anything else.
CONCLUSION.
I’ll be honest, post was extremely hard for me to create. Discovering that someone I once thought was close to me is this kind of person feels disgusting and abhorrent. I honestly wish I never had the displeasure of meeting them in the first place.
Hopefully, by the end of this post you are able to see the kind of person Ezra really is. I could not be silent about this. I knew that the moment all I found all of this out. This post has been very difficult for me to write, but I hope by the end of it some good will come. Some people will be able to avoid interacting with this man.
I believe Ezra needs professional help, and truly hope that he is able to get it some day soon.
Please be careful with who you interact with on the Internet. Adults and minors alike, there are predators everywhere. Please try your best to stay safe in your own online spaces. All of the love in my heart goes out to anyone who has survived child expl*itation. I hope for nothing but the best for you in the future.
Thank you all for taking the time to read this post. I know it is long and triggering for most people. I hope you all have wonderful days and try your best to take care of yourself.
Listed below are some important numbers I would like to bring awareness to before this post is over.
National Child Ab*se Hotline (USA): 1-800-422-4453
National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (USA): 1-800-843-5678
The National Sexual A*sault Hotline (USA): 1-800-656-4673
Childline (UK): 0800-1111
International Child Helpline: 116-111
TLDR: Ezra has a Twitter account where he retweeted artwork of a child gojo being a*saulted by an adult toji. He liked as well as created posts depicting under*ge characters (literally tagged with ‘under*ge’). All while being mutuals with a 16 year old on tumblr.
Tags used to try and spread awareness. I tried to mostly include fandoms that he is in.
UPDATE: lmfao, he has since deleted the retweet of sh*ta gojo after he was called out. Literally proving that it was him.
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gloomskulls · 3 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader]
pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader
part 1
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ after finding the courage and the balls to ask you out, Peter couldn't help but test the waters.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any. MINORS DO NOT READ
If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content
A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs
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Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.
The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.
Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.
He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.
Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.
He wanted you.
Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.
The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.
Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.
"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"
He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?
Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good
As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?
But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?
I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.
Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."
Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?
That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.
But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.
He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.
He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.
What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?
He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.
But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.
He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.
What if you didn't reply?
What if you did?
His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.
He grabbed it with trembling hands.
"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"
He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.
For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.
What happens next?
"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"
He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.
Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.
"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.
Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.
"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.
"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.
"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"
Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"
The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.
"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"
He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."
May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"
"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."
By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"
"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone
"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"
Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”
May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."
Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"
"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.
Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.
Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.
May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."
"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.
"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."
Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."
"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.
May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."
Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."
So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"
Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"
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He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.
What if this is a mistake?
But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.
And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.
There you were.
"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."
Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."
You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.
Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.
“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”
Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"
"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.
Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.
You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.
When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.
Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.
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The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.
But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.
This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.
As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.
He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.
"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.
"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.
The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.
The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.
Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!
"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"
"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."
You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."
He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.
Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.
Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.
"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"
"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"
"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"
Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."
You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"
"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."
"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."
Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."
That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.
“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”
Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”
“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.
Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.
There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"
You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."
Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"
"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."
"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.
'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.
Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"
You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."
Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.
"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.
The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.
But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.
Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.
“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.
You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”
The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.
By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.
“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”
The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."
Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"
Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"
"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."
Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.
After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.
It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.
However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.
"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"
He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.
"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''
You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.
"I think that's really admirable, Peter."
That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.
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Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.
"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."
But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."
But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."
"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"
You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.
The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.
So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.
"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.
After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.
"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."
You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."
Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."
As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.
After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.
"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.
You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.
"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.
Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.
"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"
You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."
Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.
Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.
Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.
"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.
Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.
"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.
"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."
Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."
You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.
Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."
His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.
"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."
Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"
Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.
"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.
You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.
"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."
His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.
"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit
You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth
This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.
He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.
He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.
He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.
Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.
Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.
One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.
You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.
Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.
As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.
Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.
Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.
Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.
Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.
His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.
You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.
"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.
"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"
He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.
You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered
The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.
Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.
Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.
He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"
Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch
Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"
He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.
Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!
The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.
"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.
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@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me
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love-belle · 2 years ago
Text
it's golden like daylight !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the whole internet thinks that they're over but it's just a new beginning for them.
or
for when you know it's forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!! my first time writing for charles so i really hope u like it!! requests are open <3 thank you so much for reading, i love you <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, yourbestfriend and 782,517 others
yourusername loving him was red 🍒
5,829 comments
username hahahahaha "was" hahahaha
username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION WHAT???? HELLO????
username what if this was my last straw.
yourbestfriend red is your colour fr
*liked by yourusername*
username guys..........i hate to say it but i think it's true
-> username no.
-> username lol what??? nooooOoooOOO??? they're legally not allowed to break up
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by y/n444angels, f1aaliyah, wag_.updates and others
f1newz formula one driver, charles leclerc and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n have called it quits on their relationship of 4 years, sources close to the pair claim. "it just wasn't working out," the source explained, referring to the long distance between them and their busy schedules. "it just felt like the relationship had run its course," they continued, "obviously, they still hold a lot of respect for each other and will continue to remain close friends, as there's no bad blood between them." for more details, click on the link in our bio.
1,827 comments
username what do u MEAN that the relationship just RAN its course?????
username no bc the idea that a relationship can just be over like that, just "run its course" and that you had a limited time with your person, your partner and now it's over. it's so heartbreaking. my heart is breaking for both of them, they were so in love with each other 💔💔💔
username source is like "just trust me on this" lmfaooooo
username no way im believing this shit after charles called her his "motivation and the reason he pushes himself to do much better because she deserves the best"
username her caption, their interaction the last few weeks, this 😬😬😬 it all seems to be adding up i fear
username LMFAOOO NICE JOKE 🤣🤣🤣🙏🙏🙏🤪🤪🤪 !!!!!!!!!!!
username "to my muse, i already had an idea of what love would be like but u taught me a whole new meaning of it, i love u forever and ever in each and every lifetime" and u say they broke up???? bro they're not universally allowed to.
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liked by danielricciardo, yoursister, yourusername and 827,916 others
charles_leclerc stuck with me forever now 💌 cannot wait to slow dance around the kitchen at 3 in the morning for the rest of our lives. i didn't "fall" in love with you, i purposely, intentionally loved you and i always will, in this lifetime and all the others. any person would have been lucky to call you their love and i thank my skies and my constellations that i got to be that lucky person. here's to our forever ❤️ i love you
tagged yourusername
18,827 comments
username OH NY GOF
username SHUR THE FUCK UP WHAT OU M UHDO
username i just fell to my knees in walmart what.
yourusername forever never looked so good, i love you more than words could convey ❤️
-> charles_leclerc i love you mon ange ❤️
username hahahahahahaha!!!! ok!!!!!!!! nice!!!!!! happy for u!!!!!!!!!!!
username can't believe we really lost mother to a guy that drives around for a living
-> username i could be an uber driver just sayin 😮‍💨
danielricciardo the hardest secret to keep!! cannot wait to third wheel u for the rest of my life 🙏🙏🙏
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username I JUST SCREAMED SO LOUD OH MY GOD
lorenzotl the best sister in law ❤️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
lewishamilton congratulations ❤️❤️❤️ can finally post the pictures from that night ‼️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username IM SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 892,827 others
yourusername it's golden like daylight ❤️‍🩹
been waiting my entire life to use these lyrics, thank u charles for finally making it happen 🙏 also, i love you and i cannot wait for our future?????? kinda sad u beat me at proposing first but it's okay bc i love the ring (and you!!!!!!) thank u for making me the happiest person alive ❤️❤️❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
19,178 comments
username THE CONTRAST IN THEIR CAPTIONS
username poetic bf 🤝 funny gf
username i love them your honour
carlossainz55 it took him 27938291 hours to pick a damn ring so u better cherish that rock
-> yourusername it's tiffany how could i not??? (it's perfect thank u for helping him out ❤️‍🩹)
username SHE'S SO AJAJSJKAJSJSKA
charles_leclerc it was about time i put a ring on that 💍💍
-> yourusername REALLLLLL (i love you so much thank u thank u thank u i love you u make me feel like all the colours of a sunset, all the hues)
username they're so ☹️☹️☹️
arthur_leclerc can't believe you're gonna be my sister in law (i love u, thank u for making him and us the happiest by being in our lives)
-> yourusername better get used to it (i love you all so much, my forever family)
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 years ago
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I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.
A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.
However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.
I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."
I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.
I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.
While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.
I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.
Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.
AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.
What are these acronyms?
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subbmissivesuccubus · 7 months ago
Text
Keep it down
Summary : Aizetsu is pressed against his crush in a very crowded bus and can’t help but pop a boner from how close the two of you are. But, luckily for him, you didn’t hate it at all. Disclaimer : AizetsuXFem reader. Modern AU. Public groping and sex.
A/n: I fear I cooked with this one fam <3 This was a fan request from a Patron a few months ago and it is one of my personal favorites. I no longer take requests over on my Patreon as i'd like to consider seriously doing commissions some day, but the tiers over there are still fun and very worth your time. If you enjoy what I do, please consider supporting me! (Link in bio)
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Aizetsu didn’t consider himself to be a religious man. But at this moment, a prayer kept repeating in his head:
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look don’t look don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook-
“You okay, Aizi?” you asked, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes, your long eyelashes fluttering as you blinked up at him. He gulped heavily as he forced his eyes to trail up to the ceiling of the bus, focusing in on a random screw and trying to distract himself the best he could.
“Y-Yeah, all good.” He responded, grunting as the space around him got tighter. “I’m sorry about this,” you said, an apologetic expression on your face, “I asked you to come out with me but…I didn’t think the bus would be so crowded today.”
You grimaced as you looked around, huffing as the doors opened in a stop only for more people to shuffle in and for nobody to move out. Aizetsu grunted as he was pushed farther into the bus and towards the opposite side, the only thing separating him from the glass doors being you. His hands reached out and placed themselves against the glass, caging you and keeping you protected from the crowd around him.
“Don’t worry about it.” He said, trying to ease your nerves and his, “I want to go out with you- I mean- I want to visit this museum too.”
He looked down at you but remembered why he shouldn’t and snapped his eyes up again, hoping his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. Due to your positions, the two of you were pushed against each other- which led to your body pressed flushed against his and if he looked down, he’d see your pretty tits smushed right on his torso. It was torture enough to even feel your soft globes press against him and it took all of his willpower to not get a boner- but if he looked down and saw the peek of cleavage from the bottom of your neckline- there’s no way you wouldn’t feel his dick press against you and he really doesn’t want to do that.
The last thing he wants is for his crush to feel his erection and hate him for being perverted.
“Oh- shit!” you gasped softly, immediately shuffling against him which got Aizetsu to jump.
“Wh-What happened?”
“Nothing- it’s just- my skirt is…” he heard you grunt in frustration, an irritated sigh leaving your hips as you continued to move against him, “My skirts riding up and it can’t…I can’t pull it down!”
“Oh!” Aizetsu gasped, blushing before he cleared his throat, ignoring the few glances people gave him. He tried not to think of what you were looking like, plump ass pressed against the window with your cute miniskirt pushing up. “Yeah- I’m pressed to tight against the window and I can’t- fuck- I’m gonna turn around, ok?”
“Ok-“
But before he could process anything, you started wiggling again, your whole body turning against him and he swore he almost passed out. He trailed his eyes to the ceiling once more and bit his lower lip, groaning in relief when you finally stopped moving, having turned around.
But now there was a new problem.
Your butt was pressed right against his crotch.
And your skirt was still pulled up a bit and he could see the barest hint of a pastel pink lace panty.
His cock throbbed and he prayed that you didn’t feel it through his sweatpants. Fuck- if he knew today would have been like this, he’d have worn something thicker.
“Ok- lemme just…” you brough a hand back and finally tugged your skirt down, your chest pressed against the window a bit as you covered yourself up, “Ah. Much better.”
“H-How much longer?” Aizetsu asked once he took in a deep breath, not sure how much more of this he could handle. Was everybody on Earth busy today?! It sure felt like it considering it didn’t feel like the crowd was decreasing.
“Still another 30 minutes, Aizi.” You told him, once again apologetic, “But I’m alright. Since I have you around!”
Aizetsu blushed at your sincere compliment but his eyes immediately snapped open wide in horror as you started wiggling your hips side to side. You do that something- when you say something purposefully cute, you’d shake your hips a bit and give him your puppy dog eyes- a habit of yours he absolutely loves but at the moment- he loathed.  
“Stop! Stop- stop-“ he couldn’t help but gasp out, quickly using a hand to grab your hip and make you stop moving, “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?” you asked, confused and concerned, “this?”
“Fuck-“ he gasped as you shook your hips against his crotch again, either doing it on purpose to rile him up or innocently questioning him- either way- his dick was hard now. Very obviously hard.
“Shit- Y-you’re-“ he cursed, gritting his teeth as he could literally feel his erection grow with each wiggle but unable to move away thanks to all of the people around- not even as inch of space left.
“What? I’m what?”
 “You-“ Aizetsu hissed, his other hand also coming down to harshly grip your waist and making you freeze in place. Oh fuck. His dick was rock hard in his pants and there was no way you couldn’t feel it.
“Is- is that your…“
“Yes- just- fuck- stop moving!” Aizetsu hissed, his face flushed bright red in embarrassment. God, he wanted the ground to part under him and swallow him just to get out of this situation. Why couldn’t he control himself? Now you were going to think he’s some pervert and not want anything to do with him-
“Did…you get like that because of me?” you whispered to him, making his face flush even more. Oh, he really wanted to die now.
“…Yeah.” He admitted, beyond embarrassed and ashamed, “Sorry- I’m so sorry! I’d move away but…”
He looked around them. There was just no space to move at all. So he was stuck here, cock hard and pressed against the ass of his crush. He was so conflicted with his emotions that he almost missed your response:
“Don’t be sorry. It seems like it’s my fault. Does…it hurt?”
“It’s…” Aizetsu swallowed, wondering why you were questioning him but he could never deny you of anything, “It’s frustrating.”
“But I don’t think it will go down if we’re stuck like this, right?”
“I…yeah…you’re right. Fuck- I’m so sorry.” Aizetsu whined, tears prickling his eyes. This was it. You were going to hate him now for being a pervert and you’d never feel safe around him anymore-
“Don’t apologise. Since its my fault…do you want me to help you?”
Aizetsu blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
What?
But before he could say anything, he gasped as your suddenly pushed your hips back against him, very obviously grinding you butt on him. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning hot as he watched you move your body.
“What are fuuuuck- oh God- ” he whispered as he leaned towards you, making sure you heard him, “cut that out! You’re only going to- oh fuck- oh-“
“Hmmm, I didn’t think a little rubbing would make you so excited, Aizi.” You teased, having the audacity to grin at him as you moved your hips in a circle, his hard cock balanced between your cheeks, “If I had known, I would have done this way sooner~ Were you always getting hard when I was close to you? What about the times I’ve sat on your lap?”
“Fuck- fuck- what are you doing?!” Aizetsu hissed, his voice low even though he wanted nothing more than to yelp in surprise. You were absolutely grinding yourself back against him, peachy butt rubbing on his clothed member. He bit his lower lip harshly, hands gripping your hips tighter to try and stop you but you were apparently very determined to push your ass against him.
“I told you! I made you hard, right?” you said, licking your lips as you felt his thick, hot rod push between your cheeks, “It only seems fair that I help you make it go away~”
“A-Are you crazy?!” he whisper-screamed in response, his eyes darting around, terrified that someone could be looking at them, “We’re in public!”
“I know~” you responded, a twinkle in your eyes, “doesn’t that make it better?”
“Oh god- ah!”
Aizetsu quickly slapped a hand over his mouth again as you gave him a particularly harsh grind, his eyes widening as he noticed your skirt starting to ride up again. You noticed the movement of his eyes and its target, chuckling at his very obvious desires.
“Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have pulled my skirt down, huh?” you asked, popping your hips a few times and shivering as you felt his hard, hard cock against your butt. Even though it was through layers of clothing, you could still feel how hot his dick was- how needy- how…thick~ You knew of Aizetsu’s little crush on you and while you thought it was cute, you never intended to pursue anything as you were into more dominating guys. Aizetsu could be assertive when he needed to be but always leaned more towards the passive, sad boy side of the spectrum and while you loved him as a friend, you never really thought about having him as a romantic partner.
But seeing the way he was tearing up…the blush on his face…his contorted expression…
You were learning something new about yourself and it felt too good to stop now.
“You wanna see more, Aizi?” you asked, a hand inching back down to the hem of your skirt, thumbing at the fabric, “Want me to grind my panty covered ass on your fat cock?”
“Shit- shut up!” he snapped, moving the hand over his mouth to instead cover yours instead. Your words and your tongue! How sinful! He’d never imagines his best friend to be such a…such a…slut! But he couldn’t like that his cock twitched in his pants at your words.
He gasped as he felt something slimy against his fingers, gliding over his skin, his hand vibrating from your moans- Oh god- you were licking his hand! He bit his lower lip to muffle his own cries, grateful that the train was so packed that nobody could really see you, everyone too engrossed in their phones to notice his mewls and whines.
Your hands were still naughty and eager to tease and before he knew it, he saw you slowly pull your skirt up. His jaw dropped, practically drooling as you exposed your behind, your pastel pink panties clear for his viewing pleasure. It was an adorable colour on you but even better than that was the way it fit you- so perfect against you, it was almost like it was moulded to your skin.
“Mmph- come on, Aizi~” you said, shaking your head out of his saliva covered hand to talk to him, “Enjoy yourself.”
With that, you continued to grind your ass against him while also taking his other hand in yours. His breath got caught in his throat as you lifted that hand up and boldly placed it on your chest. He couldn’t help himself- his body moving faster than his mind- as his fingers instinctively squeezed on your plush tit. He heard you mewl happily, like his touch was satisfying a deep need inside you.
“You’re- fucking crazy!” he hissed out, still hyper conscious of his surrounding but…but…your breast in his hand felt amazing and your ass- only covered by a thin panty- was just heavenly against his cock- he was slowly starting to feel his surroundings melt away and he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.
“I know~” you responded, jumping on your heels a bit so he could feel the jiggle of your tit in his hand and your ass on his dick, “and you clearly love it~”
Aizetsu hissed, unable to argue with you as he brought his other hand upto your chest as well, no longer fighting his desires. He was still trying to keep his noises low and if anyone noticed the two of you, they weren’t saying anything so he indulged himself as he shamelessly groped your chest. Covered by your blouse, he could still feel how soft your pretty tits were. Your size was just perfect, fitting wonderfully in his hands as he gave you a few greedy squeezes before he found your nipples. Perking out due to how turned on you were, now it was your turn to muffle your moans as Aizetsu deftly caught your hard buds between his fingers. He pinched at them gently but the friction from your layers of clothing still made your toes curl.
“Shit- if you keep moving like that-“ the man moaned, sharp teeth taking a nibble of your ear and your felt your body shiver at the intimacy, “I’ll cum in my pants!”
“Oh, not yet, Aizi.” You said sternly, “Not until you pull it out for me~”
“P-Pull it out- you don’t mean?”
“Mmhmm~ Do it Aizi? For me?”
Fuck. He knew you knew how weak he was when you said that.
Giving his surrounding one final look to make sure no one was watching and giving your tits one final squeeze, he brought his hands back to his pants. With quick movements and making sure to not push down on his clothes too much- Aizetsu pulled his dick out. His bare cock was out. Exposed completely. In a moving bus full of people.
The things he did for love.
“Oh, wow!” you gasped, turning your head back so you could have a good look at his cock. Of course, your view was limited but you liked what you saw. His cock rested between your cheeks, the position so lewd you wish you had the patience to pull your phone out and take a picture but maybe later. His cock was dripping against you, beads of pre cum pooling on the tip that was sure to stain your panties. Delicious veins ran up and down his thick shaft and while you couldn’t see them, you were sure he had big, breeding balls.
You pushed back against him once again, mewling happily as you felt his bare cock against you. Now this was a man. You gasped as Aizetsu seemed to take control for a second, his hand coming down to grip your ass cheek. You felt the blood rush to your face now as he groped you for a few seconds before he went lower and pushed your legs apart a bit. You were confused but then your suddenly felt something slip between your legs.
Oh. Oh yes.
“Wanna thigh fuck me, you naughty boy?” you asked, gently pushing your legs together so your juicy thighs could squeeeze Aizetsu’s cock. The man whimpered and nodded, his head spinning from the sensation. While he wanted nothing more than to fuck you- he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He wanted to take his time, worship your body and pleasure you back. For now, he’d settle with fucking the thighs he had dreams about before. His cock was nestled perfectly, peeking out the other side, pressed flushed against your clothed cunt and he could feel how wet you were for him.
He wasn’t going to last long.
As the bus ride continued and more people shuffled in, the two of you were lost in your own world. The two of you were pressed tighter than ever against the door, your breasts squished against the glass, all the more restricted as Aizetsu was pressed flush against you from behind. The stuffy space was made even more suffocating (in a good way this time) thanks to the pure lust you were feeling. Your needy boy was whimpering against your ear, little pleas and begs leaving his sweet mouth as he meekly thrust his hips against yours. He didn’t have much room to work with but he enjoyed himself nonetheless, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit each time he pumped forward.
It felt delectable fucking your thighs, sliding against your panty that he wished he could rip off, a pussy who was getting wetter with every thrust. Fuck the museum. Once you reached your destination, he is going to drag you to the nearest love hotel and give you the pounding you deserve for teasing him so much.
“Fuck- wait- I’m gonna cum-“ Aizetsu whimpered, eyebrows furrowed as he felt his balls twitch, “I can’t- not here- I’ll make a mess-“
“Hmmm…” you pondered, “People will definitely notice if you cum all over the bus…so I guess your only option is to cum inside me, right?”
“What?!”
You grinned back at him, Aizetsu watching with wide eyes and bated breath as you reached behind and suddenly pulled your panties to the side. He almost choked on his own saliva once your pussy was revealed to him, but due to you two being positioned to tightly against each other- he couldn’t see her. Oh, but he could feel her. He could feel your sopping wet pussy against his bare cock, the heat of your body making his eyes roll to the back of his head. Your slick immediately started to coat him as his dick slid between your folds, no longer separated by the thin layer of fabric and it felt more amazing than anything he could have ever imagined.
But before he could process anything- you reached down between your legs, gently grabbed his dick in your soft hands, and pressed his tip against your entrance.
“W-Wait- I don’t-“ Aizetsu whined, knees trembling from the sensation, “I don’t want our first time- to be- ah- like this!”
“Awww. Then just put the tip in, Aizi.” You suggested, eagerly shaking your hips but waiting for him to give you the ok, “It’s not sex if it’s just the tip. Just put it in and cum. Use me. Use my pussy like a cum bucket~”
Aizetsu quickly did as he was told, knowing that your words were enough to push him off the edge. He pushed the tip of his cock inside you just as he started to cum- his whole body trembling from pleasure. His balls clenched with each pump, unloading his seed inside your greedy pussy. It was just the tip and then some but your cunt, wrapping around him was enough to make his vision go blurry. He could only imagine how good you’d feel once he’s balls deep inside you.
You opened your mouth in a silent moan, your eyes glazed over as your felt your best friend fill you up, use your pussy like it was a paper napkin- just something to cum inside of so as to not make a mess. You couldn’t wait to really get pounded by this thick, hard cock but for now, you simply enjoyed your creampie.
After a minute or so, the two of you were still attached together, Aizetsu’s cock still inside you, plugging up the cum in your cunt. But unfortunately, you had to break up the sweet, intimate moment.
“…Aizi?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Our stop is next.”
~~~~~
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shidoglazer · 5 days ago
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multi-character blue lock drabble !
ft :: sae , rin , shidou , kaiser , nagi , reo
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'(*★*)'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*..。*
how would they show you off on social media?
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SAE ITOSHI
- i feel like he’s a very discreet guy, he’d post you guys’s dates on his instagram story every now and then but he wouldn’t show your face to keep the relationship more private. “why don’t you post my faceeee???” “interviewers stick their noses into everything that isn’t their business to grab more money, they’re annoying.”
- if you asked him to, he’ll make a highlight and put everything that has you in it. he’ll label it just as “Highlights 🤍”
- doesn’t really interact with your posts on social media unless he scrolls onto it, he doesn’t need to like or comment on your posts to prove that he loves you. thats what he thinks at least. “why haven’t you liked any of my posts?” “…was i supposed to?”
- if you really wanted to make your relationship with you public, he’ll very, very, reluctantly agree, seeing the way your face lights up makes every pain-in-the-ass interviews worth it.
- he’d probably post a picture of you two kissing or holding hands and tag your main account. beware, the next day you check your socials, there’ll be articles about you two everywhere, your instagram followers has blasted up, everyone is spam liking your posts and your dms are bombarded with fangirls. this is the power of sae itoshi huh?
RIN ITOSHI
- wouldn’t care about privacy. he’d ask you if it was okay to post you, and as soon as you agree he’ll post all the cringy photos you forced him to take with you. you two doing a heart shape with the sun in the middle, the photo you snuck of him helping you carry your shopping bags and so on. “did you really have to take a picture of me carrying your bags?.. you’re making me look like a servant.” posts it anyways
- this man is an absolute loverboy. despite his stern look, he’s whipped for you. will immediately make a highlight for you just so people (and himself) can look through you two’s memories. “rin~ you made a highlight for me??” “yeah. so?” while he’s internally tweaking out from how happy you look.
- he did suggest you to private your instagram account before every fangirl came to harass you, which you wished you could’ve done sooner. “rin. why did one of your fangirls message me and said i looked like a well done steak.” “i told you to private your account.”
- when you comment on his posts, he’ll like it and pin it to the top of his comment section. he’s so cheesy
- despite all that, in the end he hid his story from sae and his parents because he absolutely knew this was going to be brought up at the dinner table to embarrass rin.
SHIDOU RYUSEI
- no shame at all. will post you two kissing, the lipstick marks you left on him, tags you in his bio, makes a highlight for you and occasionally even matching profile pictures with you.
- he keeps notifications for everyone elses posts off except for yours, as soon as he gets an instagram notification he’s in your comment section DROOLING for you. “WHOS WIFE IS THIS??? 😍😍😍” “thank you for the meal😜😜😜” “woah cutie didnt know you matched my freak like dat hehh😘😘😮‍💨😮‍💨”
- as much as you love him you swore you felt embarrassed for your life.
- in summary, he’s just a very open person about you two’s relationship. he doesn’t mind the articles or the interviews, he’s eager to show you off to the world. he’s so cutie woaw
MICHAEL KAISER
- doesn’t even use social media that much unless he needs to do a sponsorship
- finds it useless to post you or post anything about his life, but seeing how sad it made you look he rolled his eyes and posted a photo of you two sitting side by side on the bleachers of a stadium with the sun illuminating you two, even captioning it as “Nervensäge Freundin. 🤍” (pain-in-the-ass girlfriend)
- “kaiser, you posted me on your story???!!” you were basically beaming with happiness as you barged into his room. “tch, don’t overthink it. it’s just to stop you from being sulky all day.” without another word, you pounced on him and clung onto him for the rest of the day.
- thats how he made it a habit to post you occasionally, so he could receive extra affection from you, even if he acted annoyed or nonchalant about it. but oh boy, right after he posted you, your follower count shot up from 1,528 to 729k overnight easily.
- shares your posts onto his stories, likes it and occasionally comments an emoji on it if he’s feeling generous.
NAGI SEISHIRO
- quite active on social media. mainly posts about his games, football and reo. when you asked him why he didn’t post you, “do you want me to? i thought it would be a hassle to handle all the attention.”
- but when you convince him to finally post you, he wastes no time in making a highlight for you. the first post he made was him laying on your lap playing games, a picture you took of him a few days ago. he tagged you in it and captioned: “girlfriend pillow 10/10 :x recommended” you almost kissed him to death.
- after that, he started posting you a lot more frequently, just wanting to make you happy, and theres no doubt that it made your follower count rise as hell.
- posts you two playing games, holding hands, kissing, doing cringy couple stuff, despite all the interview requests hes been getting, its all worth it for your extra affection when you see his posts.
REO MIKAGE
- hes such a sweetheart about it, when you guys took your first photo together as a couple, he was so eager to ask if he could post it on social media. when you agreed, he basically looked like a golden retriever
- until now, before he posts anything about you he’ll always show it to you for confirmation and approval. “beautiful, is this picture okay?” “eh… my hair looks weird..” he’ll immediately discard it and search for a new picture without further words exchanged.
- likes, shares and comments on your posts with confidence although he doesn’t use social media all that often, he’ll always scroll on it for awhile to wind off.
- whenever he posts you, he’ll always caption it as some cringy yet romantic stuff like “Love of my life 🤍” “My world 🌍.” “Everyday with you keeps getting better and better.” “Prettiest girl in the world.”
hii sorry if any of them are a little too short or ooc!! thank you for reading through ^^
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