#criminals are people fuckers
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If you ever calling suicide the “coward’s way out” “ even just ” in regards to criminals taking their own lives after committing crimes, you are fucking vile and I hope the crawls get a little too close to you.
#suicide#tw suicide mention#ableism#tw ableism#psa assholes#criminal rights#criminals are people fuckers
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got into an argument with my friend about the movie cause they liked it and i. didn't. i feel cursed and im mostly just annoyed that so many of my problems with it are so easily fixable. but alas. there is no space for character arcs or growth. the MCU demands more cameos
i joked with a friend that if they just added a scene at the end of the movie were sam jackson shows up to actually offer wade an avengers membership proper and wade told sam jackson to fuck off then the entire movie would have been a success for me
#sci speaks#just one. stupid fucking scene. to add payoff to the set-up of wade wanting to be an avenger.#it would have been the?? greatest call-back to. um? the entire instigator of the mcu???#literally fucking criminal that nick ?? fury?? didn't?? show?? up???#i dont care if it doesn't make any fucking sense NONE of this movie made sense#and youre teloign me you coudlnt get nick fury?? to show up'/??#sam jackson?? ryan's bff??#you coudlnt get sam jackson to come in and say “mother fucker” legally this time???#i cant believe how the addition of one (1) tiny scene could have salvaged this entire shit show for me.#i say it would be just a funny joke scene that riffs on the end of the first iron man movie and the birth of the mcu.#but it would give wade a?? character arc too???#just with one? little additional scene???????????????????????.#a little fanservicey scene that fans would not need to think too hard about .#a perfect love letter to the origins of the mcu and phase one and wHY people got hype about the mcu in the first place#and a perfect jab at wade wilson being the perfect subversive little addition to the mcu.#movie fixed.#you're welcome marvel.#if they put this scene in you cuold've tricked me into thinking this movie was actually clever.
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I think it's really funny to come across people who morally posture about certain characters and ships in Golden Kamuy. Like. Nearly the whole cast is convicted criminals and/or members of a historically-known-to-be-cruel-and-unethical imperial army. Are we really doing this.
#golden kamuy#i mean like imperial army and unethical are redundant terms but some of these fuckers are ranked members of the ija#and remain as such until its dissolution#im not here to only like the nice boys im just here for a good time and sometimes that means my blorbo is a war criminal#HOWEVER. These are not real people.#Also the era and plotline make it slightly more permissible from the North American POV to vibe with? which is a take that lacks nuance but#like push that plot up a few decades i probably wouldn't have touched it#for the record im not trying to start shit with anyone. ive merely seen that vibe with some#no this isnt about the genuine analysis of themes related to heavy subject matter#this is about 'when will people come to their senses and stop liking [XYZ ship]???' type posting
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#yall have been very quiet since Israel started bombing hospitals#rhetoric of the white#call israel for what it is#war criminals#netanyahu is the terrorist#how can the excuse ‘hamas was hiding in the hospital’ make this any better you fucker#we will see Palestine free#free palestine#msf#those poor poor people and children and workers
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I'm really popping off with my "Please interpret my meow meow war criminal husband correctly" posts lately
#i love gehrman. practically worship him. i would do anything to so much as kneel in his proximity.#but he IS fucked up and he SHOULD be rightfully reviled and seen critically#NOT the way you people do it though#i did not know that becoming a gehrman fucker would come with baggage#gehrbear honey you're a fucking war criminal but im not gonna let your detractors say this shit about the doll and your disability.
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FLANN. More info in tags.
#im the grim reaper#oc#oc art#my art#flann#I haven't figured out his name in life yet but flann is the one he took up after death#his demon: Aiur. is a hyena#medium control. Horns are like 3-4 in long. Tail is hidden#Orangey-red color#Weapon: sickle#his hair got fucked up by Satan too#the fucker#He was sentenced to the sixth circle#since he was a criminal prosecutor in life who probably fucked over and indirectly killed some innocent people#Not justice-driven either just a guy who follows the rules as they benefit him#If you couldn't tell from expression he's cocky as shit. annoying#That's why!!! Other reapers don't get along with you!!!!#Cause of death blood loss due to dismemberment. he was presumedly murdered#mixed race part asian I don't have too much of that thought out#“Scavenges” for easy kills sometimes#by taking the final blow from other people#Apologies for my handwriting being illegible it got compared to grandma and doctor handwriting#en yaps in the tags
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THERE HE IS! THE REASON I DECIDED TO WATCH THIS SHOW His design is just mwah so beautiful also hes a little gremlin man Red head Oz is a wonderful design please i love it so much (also his can is snazzy as hell) Fight scene pics cause I love him
#This man needs to drink more respect women juice thou#Also respect Alfred juice#I am loving the Pennyworth Cobblepot grudge its funny as hell#Cobblepot be like 'bird? hmmm yes.... but what if they were criminals?'#WHAT THGE FUCK ARE HIS HENTCHMEN??? MARIONETT LOOKING MOTHER FUCKERS WHAT KINDA HORROR MOVIE IS THIS#Spitefull Alfred my beloved#My internet is so shit man#Alfred entering the Cobblepot mansion “damn bro you live like this?”#Alfred just wants his tray back man#CREEPY DOLL PEOPLE ARE BACK AAAAAA I HATE THE WAY THEY MOVE#WHY IS THERE OMINOUS WHISPERING WHENEVER THEY APPEAR#WAIT THE GRUDGE GOES BOTH WAYS#Ozwald is like wait your a Pennyworth??#proceeds to try and feed him to his birds#“Call me Penguin- a flightless bird but one with style” HELL YEAH#“Bring it on Rodent BOY!”#HES GOT A LASER WHIP???????#Also slay Alfred you absolute king!#NOOO my boys so sad he just wants to restore his family to its former glory#ALSO NOOOO THE DOLL POEPLE ARE GONE FUCK I HATE THEM#random’s random talks#the batman (2004)
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It's that time of the year where police departments start warning everyone about "drugs disguised as candy" for Halloween!
And while everyone's reaction is usually "haha they're so stupid lol!!" Let's not forget that this is one of the ways they transparently demonize addicts in order to keep the populace convinced that they are evil, horrible people that deserve to be locked up. They know that citizens will eventually start thinking "hey, they're really only hurting themselves, shouldn't they get help instead of being punished?" so in order to keep everyone comfortable with criminalizing drug addiction, they spread the idea that addicts have a secret agenda to turn EVERYONE into addicts, so they just *NEED* to keep them locked up.
"They're coming after our children! They're trying to turn our children into _____!" (Does that sound familiar?)
We need to go harder at humiliating these fuckers every year they keep trying to spread this bullshit.
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exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.
cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.
Your date was a disappointment.
The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.
"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.
"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.
Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.
Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.
"I'm her boyfriend."
Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.
Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.
"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.
"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.
"You didn't even meet him."
"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"
You hated that he knew you so well.
"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.
"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."
"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.
"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."
"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.
"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.
"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.
"Where can we talk then?"
"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.
"Then let's go home."
"You mean to your home."
Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.
You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.
"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.
"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.
You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.
"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"
"Princess-"
"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.
"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"
"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."
You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.
"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."
"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.
They taste like cherry chapstick.
His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.
His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.
Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.
"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.
"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.
"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.
"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.
"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."
You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.
"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."
The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.
You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.
Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.
Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?
No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.
"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.
The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.
Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.
"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."
"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.
"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.
"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"
"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."
You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."
Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.
For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.
You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.
"Alright, come then, you've earned it."
With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.
Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.
"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.
Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.
"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."
"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.
You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."
When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.
You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.
"Cozy."
"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.
"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."
The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."
"I did."
He looks at you. "Why?"
"You know why," you say, tired again.
"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."
"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."
"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.
"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"
"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.
"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."
"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"
"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."
There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.
Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."
"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."
"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."
"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."
"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.
"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."
"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."
You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.
"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."
Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"
"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."
"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."
You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.
"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."
"That's asking for a lot from a guy."
"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.
"Bye, Sukuna."
Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.
He leaves without another word.
When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.
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It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.
The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?
"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.
"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."
"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.
You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.
"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.
"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."
You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.
"Hey."
"Hey, princess. Bad time?"
"No, just, what do you want?"
"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."
You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?
"What do you want to say?"
"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."
"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.
"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."
You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.
"Uh huh."
"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."
"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.
"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."
"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"
"Why do you talk like such a brat?"
"You know-"
"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.
"So when is this date?"
"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."
"Are you fucking here, you creep?"
"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."
"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.
"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."
"Alright, I'll see you soon."
Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.
But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.
There's another guy that you love.
So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.
Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?
Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.
#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk#sukuna
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UNDERCOVER — SPENCER REID
dividers credit: cafekitsune.
PARING: spencer reid x fem reader
WARNINGS: crime, blood, spencer being overprotective, (normal warnings in the series) innuendo to spicy time, physical fight, spencer from season 10, hotch and derek being cheeky fuckers, fluff, a bit of angst.
SUMMARY: SUMMARY: You and Spencer are undercover on a case, acting as a couple. When you stray from the original plan, it leads to danger and ends up with your friendship with Spencer being much more than just that.
WORD COUNT : 6,7k
Notes: English is not my first language, so bear with me. There might be spelling mistakes here and there. I need to start watching Criminal Minds. This isn't proofread!
It had started as a normal case. An unsub had been killing women, taking and leaving behind pieces of themselves. You and Reid had been assigned to go undercover in a bar at night to get any possible leads. You were a couple.
And now here you were, sitting at a table in the bar, your legs crossed and head resting gently in your hand. You weren't actually dating. Not at all. Just working together.
Spencer had a hand on your knee, gently tracing small circles with his thumb as he kept an eye on the patrons in the area.
You glanced around the bar, feeling Spencer's touch on your knee. You tried to remain in the undercover character you had created, sipping your drink and feigning being interested in the people around you. It was hard when Spencer was so close to you, but he made you feel protected, even if it was only for a case.
The bar was bustling around you, music playing in the background while people chatted, laughed, danced, and drank. Spencer’s thumb gently tracing circles on your thigh sent a flutter of butterflies to your stomach. It was always like this when the two of you were on a case. It was always so.. different, but no matter what, you trusted him, especially when he got to show his protective side.
You glanced sidelong at Spencer, noticing the small pout that had formed on his lips as he looked around the room. He always wore that expression when he was lost in thought. It was kind of adorable how focused he got. He didn't seem to notice that he was still tracing circles on your thigh, his hand resting there like it was natural. But to you, god it felt like your skin was on fire by his touch.
You continued to watch him, admiring the intensity of his gaze as his eyes scanned the room for any suspicious activity. You knew he was focusing on the case, that was obvious, but as his hand continued to caress your skin beneath the table.. it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the act. Why did he have to be so good with his hands?
Spencer suddenly tensed up, his grasp on your knee growing firmer as he spotted something on the other side of the room. He leaned a little closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice. "Someone is watching us. Don't turn around."
Your heart skipped a beat. His closeness alone sent a shiver down your spine, but hearing his voice in your ear? It was almost too much. You struggled to keep your cool as you casually took another sip from your drink, resisting the urge to turn and see who was watching you.
He moves even closer to you, his hand still firmly on your knee. He was acting so casual as if he didn't notice the effect he was having on you. How unfair.
Spencer noticed the shudder that ran through you as he leaned closer. For a moment, he almost forgot about the case at hand as he took in the sight of you struggling to remain collected. He was tempted to tease you for it, but he knew there were more pressing matters. He let out a shaky breath before whispering to you again. "They're coming closer. Stay calm."
Spencer's hold on your knee tightened as he saw the figure approaching your table. You could feel him tense up beside you, his hand remaining a steady presence against your leg. As the person drew closer, you could see that it was a man, tall, with a sinister smile on his face.
He stopped at your table, his eyes flickering between you and Spencer. "Well, well, well. Aren't you two a lovely couple?"
Spencer forced a polite smile, his grip on your knee growing tighter. He could practically feel your anxiety radiating off you, matching his own. This wasn't good. The man's comment had set off alarm bells in his mind. This guy was definitely the unsub.
"Thanks," he replied, feigning nonchalance. "We like to think we make a good pair."
The unsub's gaze lingered on you, his eyes roaming over your body in a way that made Spencer's blood boil. But he kept his cool, knowing that any overt display of jealousy might give away your cover. He leaned slightly in front of you, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the unsub's leering eyes.
The unsub chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "You two look so cozy together. How long have you been a couple?"
Spencer's jaw clenched, but he managed to maintain his facade of calmness. He wanted nothing more than to deck this guy, but instead, he chose his words carefully. "Oh, we've been together for a few months now," he said smoothly, his hand rubbing small circles on your leg again.
The unsub's smile widened, clearly finding some sick amusement in this situation. "Well, isn't that just adorable," he cooed, taking a step closer. "You seem very much.. in love."
Spencer suppressed a scoff, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. He would have liked nothing more than to wipe that smug look off the man's face.
You did your best to maintain a calm and cool demeanor despite the growing sense of unease. The unsub's presence was making your skin crawl, but with Spencer's hand resting on your leg and his protective stance, you remained collected.
"He makes me very happy," you said in a soft voice, glancing at Spencer with a smile that was half-genuine, half-act. "I'm a lucky girl."
The unsub's expression turned almost predatory at your comment. "Oh, I bet he does."
Spencer's eyes narrowed as the unsub leered at you, his grip on your leg growing firmer. He forced himself to remain civil, knowing that one wrong move could compromise the entire operation. But it was difficult, especially when he could see how uncomfortable and uneasy this whole situation was making you.
The unsub leaned closer, eyeing you up and down like you were a piece of meat. "He better treat you right," he almost purred. "A pretty thing like you deserves it."
Spencer bristled beside you, his jaw clenching as he bit back a scathing remark. The unsub's leering made him sick, and knowing he couldn't confront the guy outright drove him crazy. He wanted to punch the bastard's lights out, but that would definitely blow your cover.
The unsub smirked, clearly noticing the change in Spencer's demeanor. "Oh, don't like me commenting on your girl." He chuckled. "A little possessive, are we?"
Spencer couldn't hold back any longer.
"Yeah, I am." The words came out through gritted teeth, his hand instinctively rubbing your leg in a possessive gesture. He knew he was letting his emotions get the better of him, but he couldn't help it. Seeing this creep ogling you was driving him mad.
The unsub chuckled again, clearly amused by Spencer's reaction. "Careful now, pretty boy. Wouldn't want to do something you'll regret."
Spencer clenched his jaw tighter, his knuckles turning white as he held back a torrent of profanities. Seeing the unsub taunt him and openly flirt with you was pushing him to the edge. He was about to snap.
Suddenly, as if on cue, Hotch's voice came through your earpieces. "Keep it cool, guys. We've got eyes on you. Don't let him get to you."
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, slow breath to try and regain control. Listening to Hotch's calm but stern voice cut through the tension, reminding him that they needed to keep their cover intact.
Knowing that the team was watching and they had your backs helped to settle the nerves, but the unsub's unsettling presence was still making your skin crawl. And Spencer's obvious tension only heightened the situation.
Meanwhile, the unsub continued to leer at you and Spencer, enjoying the way he was clearly getting to him.
Spencer was trying to regain his composure. He let out a slow breath, his hand still gripping your knee like a vice, but he was clearly struggling to rein in his emotions. Despite his efforts to appear calm, it was obvious to everyone listening through the earpiece that he was on the verge of exploding.
The unsub, of course, noticed this and seemed to relish the power he had over Spencer. He chuckled again, relishing in his ability to provoke a reaction. "Looks like I hit a nerve."
You did your best to maintain a cool facade, plastering on a polite smile as you spoke. "Yeah, my man can get a little overprotective," you said with a laugh, trying to keep your voice light and casual. "It's kind of sweet, really."
You cast a glance at Spencer, hoping he would pick up the hint and reign in his emotions a bit. But with the way his jaw was clenched, it was like trying to tame a lion with a collar.
The unsub snorted, clearly not buying your attempts to downplay the situation. "Overprotective, huh?"
Spencer's grip on your knee grew even tighter, his knuckles white as he tried not to snap. But the unsub's words and the way he was still eyeing you were only fueling the fire.
A thought suddenly flashed through your mind. An idea. A dangerous one, and definitely against protocol, but you were certain you could handle it. You had to let Spencer know, somehow.
You reached down and gently placed your hand over his, giving it a subtle squeeze, hoping he'd pick up on the cue. Then, as casually as possible, you turned to glance at him. "Baby, I need to use the ladies' room, I'll be right back."
Spencer tensed up even more as you spoke, his eyes flicking to you with a mixture of disbelief and concern. He knew you well enough to know when you had a plan. And Spencer had a bad feeling about this one.
He caught the subtle squeeze of your hand, and the tone in your voice when you spoke to him. Danger, danger, danger. He wanted to protest, to tell you not to go alone, not to put yourself in danger, but you were already standing up and heading towards the bathroom.
You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you made your way towards the bathroom, the unsub also watching you leave with a leering gaze. You maintained your calm demeanor, but your heart was racing inside. This was dangerous and stupid, but you were certain you could handle it. Hell, Spencer would probably kick your ass after this, but as long as it got the job done...
You reached the restroom door and pushed it open, stepping inside the dimly lit space.
As the door closed behind you, the sound seemed to echo in your ears. You took a deep breath, pushing aside the nerves and reminding yourself that you were trained for this. You could do this.
You glanced at the mirror above the sink, taking a moment to check your reflection. It was still you, same facade, same expression. But there was a flicker of determination in your eyes, something that hadn't been there before. You were ready.
"What are you doing?"
Damn, you'd almost forgotten about the earpiece. But Hotch's voice snapped you back to reality. He'd seen you stand up and walk to the bathroom, and you could sense his concern through the comm link.
"I have a plan." You muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped further into the bathroom.
There was a brief pause before Hotch's response came through the earpiece. "What kind of plan?"
You could practically feel the disapproval in his voice. But you'd already made up your mind.
"I'm going to try and detain him."
Another pause, longer this time, as Hotch processed what you'd just said. You could almost see the disapproving look on his face. "That's not within protocol," he replied, his tone stern. You know you should wait for further instructions, for backup. But you were set on your plan, no matter how much trouble it would end up getting you in.
"I know," you admitted, your voice still hushed. You stepped over to the sink, pretending to fix your hair in the mirror as you continued your conversation. "But it's the best shot we have at him without causing a scene."
"You're putting yourself in danger," Hotch protested, his voice tight with concern. "We can't risk-"
You interrupted him, your voice firm. "I can handle myself. Just trust me, okay?"
The comm line fell silent for a moment as Hotch considered your request. Trust was a big thing in the BAU, and he knew you well enough to know that you weren't one to take unnecessary risks. But you were determined, and he wasn't about to stop you.
"Be careful," he said after a moment, the hint of reluctance still present in his tone.
"Always am," you replied with a hint of a smirk, your voice regaining some of its usual confidence. The nerves were still there, but you pushed them aside. Time to focus.
"Keep an eye on Spencer, would you? I don't want him charging in here like a bull."
You could hear a huff of amusement through the earpiece as Hotch replied, "I'll try. You know how he is."
You couldn't help but chuckle softly, knowing full well how protective Spencer could be. But you had a job to do, and you needed to remain focused.
"I'll report in once I got him cornered. Wish me luck."
With that, you pulled off the earpiece, not wanting to draw attention to yourself with any potential noises. This was it. Time to see if your plan would work or blow up in your face.
You took one last deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You'd taken care of dangerous suspects before, this was no different. At least, that's what you told yourself.
You reached a hand down to your hip, making sure the small handgun was still secure in its holster. Just in case. Now, all that was left to do was wait and see if the unsub would take the bait.
You stood at the sink for a few moments, fidgeting with your makeup and waiting for any sound that would indicate the unsub was coming. Your heart beat anxiously in your chest, the anticipation growing with each passing second.
Then, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and the scrape of shoes on the tiled floor. It was him.
You turned around slowly, forcing a casual expression onto your face. He stood a few feet away, a smirk on his lips as he regarded you. He looked more sinister now, without the cover of the restaurant between you.
"Well, look who we have here," he drawled, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He took a step closer, his gaze roaming over your body in a way that made your skin crawl.
"Just needing a little touch-up time," you replied, trying to keep your voice light and unbothered. You leaned back against the sink, trying not to flinch as he closed the distance between you.
"Yeah? I think you look perfect to me." He was standing way too close now, his body practically pressed against yours. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and it took everything you had to maintain your composure.
You tried to subtly shift away from him, your heart racing as your back pressed against the cold porcelain of the sink. Your hand casually reached back, fingers inching closer to the gun hidden at your hip.
He seemed to notice your subtle movement and leaned in closer, his gaze flickering down to your hip. "Whatcha got there?" he asked, his voice a low, mocking whisper.
Your heart was hammering against your ribs now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. "What do you mean?" you feigned ignorance, hoping he wouldn't notice the way your palm was slowly closing around the grip of the handgun.
He leaned in even closer, his face just inches from yours. "Don't play dumb. I know you're hiding something." he reached out, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your hip, dangerously close to your gun.
You froze as his fingers brushed against your hip, adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was now or never. You had to act fast.
In a swift, fluid motion, you grabbed his hand and spun him around, pinning his arm behind his back and pushing him against the wall. The sudden movement surprised him, and he let out a grunt of surprise as his face pressed against the cold tiles.
The element of surprise gave you the upper hand for now, but you knew he was still dangerous. "You've got some skills," he grunted, a hint of anger in his voice as he tried to twist out of your grip.
You pushed him harder against the wall, applying even more pressure to his arm. He grunted again, unable to move. "And you talk too much," you retorted, keeping your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.
You could hear his breathing getting faster, his body tense as he tried to break free. "You think you've got me cornered, huh?" he spat. "You're not the first agent to underestimate me."
"I think I've got you right where I want you," you replied, your grip on his arm tightening. You could feel his muscles straining under your grasp, but he was still pinned against the wall.
Suddenly, he let out a dark chuckle, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "And what makes you think I'm alone?"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "What do you mean?" You demanded, your voice steady but your mind racing with the implications of his words. Was he implying that there were more people involved? People who were never mentioned in the case?
"Oh, you really think it's just me in on this?" He twisted his head to look at you, a sly smile on his lips. Despite the situation, he seemed to be enjoying this. "You've been too busy watching me, you didn't even spot the two guys outside."
Your fingers closed around the familiar grip of your gun, heart thundering in your chest as the man advanced towards you. You could hear more gunshots and commotion coming from outside, but that didn't matter right now. You had to focus on staying alive.
And take this man down.
You tried to back away, your back hitting the wall behind you as the unsub stepped closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Think you can shoot me, sweetheart?"
Your finger rests on the trigger, ready to shoot if needed. But the unsub is faster than you, managing to grab your gun, and it goes off, sending a bullet into the mirror by the sink, shattering it.
he sudden sound of the gunshot and shattering mirror jarred you, but you fought back against him, your adrenaline kicking into overdrive. You cursed the fact that you were wearing heels, the thin stilettos making it difficult to keep your balance.
You threw a punch, aiming for his face, but he caught your wrist, and the fight turned into a grappling struggle for the gun.
You could feel your heart sink as the gun skidded away from you, the sound of it hitting the tiled floor echoing in your ears like a bad omen. The unsub noticed it too, a victorious glint in his eyes as he took a step back from you.
"Looks like you're out of weapons," he jeered, his voice low and mocking.
You looked around, trying to think quickly. You were outnumbered, unarmed, and trapped in a confined space. The odds were not in your favor, but you refused to give up.
You took a step back, putting some distance between you and the unsub as you scanned the small bathroom for anything that could be used as a weapon. There wasn't much – a few toiletries, a paper towel dispenser, nothing that would be much use against a man twice your size.
The unsub's gaze was on you like a hawk, following your every movement. "Where you think you're going, pretty girl?" he taunted, moving forward slowly, his footsteps echoing loudly in the small space. "You're not gonna get away that easily."
With no chance of running or finding another weapon, you were left with no choice. You clenched your fists, readying yourself for a physical confrontation. You hated hand-to-hand combat, it was never your strong suit, but you had to make do.
"Bring it, buddy," you taunted, trying to sound braver than you felt.
The unsub chuckled at your challenge, stepping closer again. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he said, his eyes scanning your form up and down. "But you're way in over your head."
He lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab you. You managed to dodge the first attempt, twisting your body away from his reach, but he was quick and relentless. He kept coming at you, his movements swift and fluid, like a snake.
You threw a punch, aiming for his face, but he dodged it with ease, his hand catching your wrist and yanking you to the side. You stumbled, the heel of your shoe catching on the edge of a tile. You barely managed to keep your balance, your heart hammering in your chest.
You gasped as he grabbed a handful of your hair and slammed you into the edge of the sink. The impact sent a sharp pain through your skull, making your vision swim for a moment. You tried to fight him off, but he had an iron grip on your hair, keeping you pinned.
The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the sight of your teammates appearing in the doorway sent a wave of relief through you. Hotch, Derek, and even Spencer, all holding their service weapons at the ready.
The unsub's grip on your hair loosened slightly, his eyes wide with surprise at the unexpected arrival. For a moment, it seemed like the tables had turned.
Derek quickly assessed the situation, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him – you, pinned against the sink, the unsub's hand in your hair, the shattered mirror, and the gun lying just out of reach on the floor.
"You wanna let her go, pal?" he barked, his voice hard and unwavering.
Hotch's gaze fell on you, his eyes instantly locking onto the blood dripping down your face. Concern flashed across his features for a brief moment before he schooled his expression back into his usual stoic demeanor.
"Let go of her," he repeated Derek's command, his voice firm and commanding. "Now."
The unsub didn't move, his eyes darting around the room, calculating his options. But his grip on you loosened as he realized he was outnumbered. He released your hair, his hand dropping away from your scalp.
"Hands on your head," Hotch barked, stepping forward. Derek moved in as well, his gun still raised and aimed directly at the unsub.
Spencer lingered by the doorway, eyes wide and worried as he took in your injured state.
The unsub complied, raising his hands slowly and placing them on the back of his head. He looked resigned, his earlier bravado replaced with a resigned acceptance that he was outnumbered and outgunned.
"Turn around slowly," Hotch instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument. The unsub obeyed, turning slowly to face the wall, his hands still on his head.
Within seconds, Derek had him restrained, his hands cuffed behind his back. Hotch holstered his gun and moved swiftly towards you, Spencer right behind him.
Hotch stepped closer, his eyes scanning over you. His hand reached up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face to the side to examine your face, and the blood trickling down the side.
"How bad is it?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.
Spencer, lingering at Hotch's side, leaned in closer, concern etched in his features. "Does it feel swollen? Are you dizzy?" he rattled off, his usual rambling coming in rapid-fire.
"I'm okay," you assured them, though you leaned slightly into Hotch's touch. Your head throbbed, the adrenaline from the fight starting to wear off.
Hotch gently released your chin, his fingers still lingering near your injury for a moment longer. "We need to get that cleaned up," he said, gesturing to your temple.
Spencer had already taken a handkerchief out of his pocket, gently dabbing at the blood The white cotton quickly stained red as he cleaned the blood away.
"You'll probably need stitches," he commented, his fingers gently prodding the edges of the wound.
The sounds of your teammates clearing the scene faded into the background, leaving you alone with Spencer in the now-silent bathroom. The adrenaline was quickly being replaced by the pain from your injuries, but it was his silence that was unnerving you more than anything
Spencer was focused on cleaning the blood from your face, his touch gentle but his expression unreadable. He didn't say a word, just continued his work silently, but you could tell he was tense, his jaw set in a firm line.
Once he was satisfied that the wound was clean, he finally spoke, breaking the tense silence. "You should've waited for backup," he said, his voice cold and clipped.
He kept his gaze focused on the cut, refusing to meet your eyes. "We could've taken care of this without you getting hurt," he added, his tone bordering on accusation.
"I had it under control," you protested, but even as you said the words, you knew they weren't entirely true. You'd acted impulsively, putting yourself in danger just to prove a point.
Spencer's hands stilled, finally meeting your eyes, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and worry. "Under control? You're bleeding. You could've been killed." His voice was a growl, his frustration palpable.
He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if he was trying to see past your bravado and into your true state of mind.
"You can't just throw yourself into danger like that," he said, his voice softer now but firm. "We have protocols for a reason."
"I know we have rules and protocols, but sometimes situations don't allow us the luxury of following them," you muttered, your stubbornness rearing its head even in your injured state. "I didn't feel like I had a choice."
Spencer's grip on your head tightened for a moment, his jaw clenching as he fought back a more heated retort. He exhaled through his nostrils, his frustration clear.
"There's always a choice," he argued, his voice a low growl. "You just took the most reckless one."
Spencer's eyes flicked over your face, lingering on the gash on your temple for a moment before moving down to your lips. The atmosphere was thick with the kind of tension familiar to both of you, leading to late nights and whispered secrets.
"You don't get to throw yourself into danger like that and expect me not to worry," he nearly hissed.
He was standing close, his body practically leaning over you as he tended to your wound. His hands were still on your face, one gently holding the side of your head while the other held the handkerchief against your skin.
As he spoke, you could feel his breath, warm against your cheek. "Don't do that again," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't make me worry like that."
"I can't promise that I won't get myself into dangerous situations," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his stare. "It's part of the job."
There was a pause, the tension thick between you. His hands were still gently cradling your head, but his touch felt more possessive now, like he was silently claiming you as his.
"Just promise me you'll be more careful," he said, his voice pleading.
His fingers trembled slightly against your skin, the vulnerability in his voice only increasing your desire to comfort him. You reached up and gently laid your hand over his, silently reassuring him that you were okay.
"I will," you whispered. "I promise."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, an idea forming in your mind. You knew that one way to get past Spencer's stubborn facade was through bribery, particularly with his sweet tooth.
"How about this," you began, your voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. "I'll be more careful, and I'll buy you some donuts as an apology for worrying you
His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing through them. It was almost comical how quickly you saw him crumble, his resolve melting under the suggestion of donuts.
"You're bribing me with sugar," he stated, sounding almost offended, yet the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards.
"Is it working?" you asked, grinning up at him. You could practically see his weak willpower crumbling away. Donuts were his kryptonite.
Spencer tried to maintain his stoic exterior, but the way his eyes lit up betrayed his true feelings. He was a sucker for donuts, and you knew it.
"I mean, it's not the worst bribe," he admitted, his voice laced with resignation but also with a hint of playfulness.
You let out a soft laugh, his feigned resistance amusing you. He could pretend to be mad all he wanted, but you knew he was already imagining the taste of those sugary treats.
"I'll even get the ones with sprinkles," you promised, knowing that would practically seal the deal.
"Sprinkles?" he repeated, his voice a little too eager to be convincing. "You know me so well."
He tried to play it cool, but his eyes betrayed his excitement. It was almost endearing how easily the idea of donuts broke down his defensive walls.
"Of course I do," you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "I know exactly how to get you to forgive me."
You knew that donuts were his weakness, and you were more than willing to exploit it when necessary. After all, it was a small price to pay for Spencer's forgiveness.
He looked down at you, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his expression. He was fully aware of his sweet tooth and the power it held.
"You're not playing fair," he muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words.
He knew he was defeated, and deep down, he was probably already planning which donuts he wanted.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his response. He was adorable when he was trying to resist, even though you both knew he was fighting a losing battle.
"I never said I would play fair," you teased, a cheeky smile on your face. "I play to win, and this time, winning means getting you a dozen donuts."
Spencer flushed, his cheeks coloring slightly under your touch. He hadn't expected the gentle gesture, and his usually stoic demeanor faltered for a moment.
He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. He looked a little flustered, his usual controlled expression replaced with a hint of vulnerability.
"That's...that's a good start," he murmured, his voice a little shaky.
He swallowed, trying to regain his composure but failing. The simple act of you kissing his cheek had thrown him off balance.
"But it's going to take more than that to truly make it up to me," he said, his voice regaining a bit of its usual teasing tone.
He leaned in a little closer, the air between you growing more charged. His eyes held a hint of mischief, his smile growing wider.
"I mean, I do like donuts, but I think I'm going to need something a little more substantial as a true apology," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive.
His hand lightly rested on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path over your skin. He was being playful now, his usual serious demeanor giving way to his more flirtatious side.
His hand moved down to your chin, his touch light but deliberate. He tilted your face up to meet his gaze, his eyes darkened with desire.
"Can you think of anything more substantial that might serve as an adequate apology?" he murmured, his voice dripping with suggestion.
You felt yourself shiver under his touch, your body responding to his proximity and his words. There was a hint of hunger in his eyes, and it sent a thrill through you.
"Maybe," you replied, your voice a little breathless. "But I think I'll need a hint first. I wouldn't want to disappoint my favorite genius."
Spencer's smile widened, his fingers tracing a slow path down your jawline. He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear.
"Hmm," he pretended to think, his hot breath against your skin sending another shiver down your spine. "Perhaps the apology should be a little more... physical."
His hand moved from your chin down to your neck, his fingers lightly tracing the sensitive skin there. He was so close to you now, his body almost pressed against yours.
You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath growing a bit heavier as he continued to toy with you.
"Something that involves a lot of... touching," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.
His hand moved lower, his fingers tracing a path down your collarbone, down your arm, and finally settling on your hip. His grip was firm but gentle, his touch possessive.
He stepped even closer, his body flush against yours now. You could feel the heat of his chest against yours, his heart beating a little quicker.
"That's the kind of apology I might forgive," he murmured, his mouth hovering just above yours.
He was so close, his eyes locked with yours. His thumb continued to trail patterns on your hip, his touch both maddening and exhilarating.
His hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. He leaned down, his mouth now just a whisper away from yours.
"I'm a very tactile person," he whispered, his voice dripping with implication. "I need to feel my apologies, not just hear them."
Your pulse quickened at his words, his proximity and his touch sending a wave of heat through you.
You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth close to yours. "Then I guess I'll just have to make sure my apology is extra convincing," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.
You closed the remaining distance between your lips, kissing him hard.
Spencer let out a soft groan at the contact, his hand on your back tightening as he pulled you close. He responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours with a ferocity that caught you off guard.
He tasted like coffee and some lingering sweetness, a combination that was irresistibly addictive. He nipped at your lips, his hands roaming over your body, touching and caressing with an increasing hunger.
The sound of the bathroom door made you both pull away. You looked past Spencer to see Hotch and Derek.
Derek's smirk widened as he saw the two of you quickly pull away from one another.
"Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Looks like we've interrupted something."
Hotch couldn't help but chuckle, his gaze flickering between you and Spencer. Hotch pulled out his wallet, handing Derek a 50$ bill.
You looked between Hotch and Derek, your confusion deepening at the sight of the fifties changing hands.
"What are you two doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of amusement and bemusement.
"Oh, we just had a little bet going," Derek explained, his smirk widening.
Hotch nodded in agreement, his expression still one of mild amusement. "We bet on when you two would finally stop dancing around each other and just admit your feelings," he explained.
Your confusion slowly turned to embarrassment at their words. They had been betting on your relationship?
You shot a glance over at Spencer, who was looking just as flustered as you were. He was clearly still a little worked up from your earlier encounter, his cheeks slightly flushed and his hair a little disheveled.
"You two bet money on our love life?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of amusement and indignation.
Derek chuckled, pocketing the money Hotch had handed over. "Guilty as charged," he said, his grin unapologetic.
Hotch shrugged, his expression still mild but with a hint of amusement. "Consider it a friendly wager," he said.
"Friendly wager or not, you two are unbelievable," you muttered, still a little flustered but trying to play it off with a laugh.
Spencer, on the other hand, was trying to regain his composure. He ran a hand through his hair, fixing his disheveled locks and trying to look unfazed.
"It's not like we were the only ones making bets," Derek pointed out, his gaze flickering over to Spencer. "JJ and Penelope have had a bet going on for months."
Spencer's face flushed even deeper at Derek's words. JJ and Penelope had been betting on your relationship too?
You couldn't help but laugh at Spencer's reaction to Derek's revelation. His expression was a mix of mortification and resignation, as if he had known deep down that the rest of the team was watching the slow burn between you two.
You turned to him, nudging him playfully. "Looks like we're the talk of the office, genius."
Spencer let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit at your comment. "Great," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair again. "Just what I need, the whole team betting on our relationship."
He looked down at you, his expression a mix of resignation and fondness. "But I guess it was only a matter of time before we gave them something to talk about."
You gave him a reassuring smile, reaching up to touch his arm. "Hey, at least they seem to think we're a good match," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Hotch and Derek chuckled again at your comment, their grins still just as knowing.
Spencer let out another sigh, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "Yeah, and they're enjoying our... progression a little too much," he grumbled, his voice still a little flustered.
Derek let out a bark of laughter at Spencer's tone. "Oh, come on, Reid. Lighten up. We're just happy you two finally got your act together."
Hotch nodded in agreement. "And I have to say, I've never seen you quite so worked up over someone before," he observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Spencer's cheeks colored again at Hotch's remark. He shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted at best.
"Can we please stop discussing my love life," he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly.
Derek and Hotch exchanged another smirk, obviously enjoying their ability to embarrass him.
You guys left the restroom and the bar all together. The unsub as and the two others had been detained and taken to interrogation. The EMTs had just finished tending to your injured head the wound was cleaned and plastered but thankfully did not require stitches. You were sitting on the edge of the ambulance, a blanket draped around you
Spencer hovered over you, his expression one of concern. He had been by your side the whole time, watching as the EMTs cleaned and bandaged your wound.
Now, he was sitting next to you on the edge of the ambulance, his hand resting on your leg. He was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on your face, taking in the sight of the bandaid plastered against your forehead.
"About earlier...in the bathroom..." you began, your voice soft.
Spencer's hand stiffened a little on your leg at your sudden mention of the kiss.
He swallowed, his gaze flickering away from yours for a moment before coming back to meet your eyes. "It...it meant something," he said, his voice hesitant. His eyes searched your face as if looking for some sort of confirmation. "At least, it did to me."
You smiled at his words, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. "Good," you said, your voice soft. "Because it meant a lot to me too."
You reached up, your hand gently tracing the line of his jaw. You could see the emotions flickering across his face, his usual stoic veneer cracked just a bit.
"I still owe you a dozen donuts," you reminded him, your voice light.
Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes flickering with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. "But I think I'd rather have another kiss than a dozen donuts."
He looked down, his expression a little contrite. "Not that I don't still want the donuts," he added quickly, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
You leaned forward, your hand still tangled in his hair, pulling his face down to meet yours.
The kiss was soft, a gentle press of lips against yours, filled with tenderness and sweetness. It was different from the urgent, passionate kiss you had shared in the bathroom, this one slow and deliberate.
You thought back to how it all started - how you had both agreed to pretend to be a couple to gain information during the case.
And now, here you were, sitting in the back of an ambulance, your lips still tingling from the kiss you had shared with Spencer. You never could have predicted that this charade would lead to something real, but it did.
Somehow, the lines between acting and reality had blurred, turning your pretend relationship into something completely genuine.
I don't know a lot about Criminal Minds and the characters, so I'm sorry if this is completely different than what the characters would say or do. I haven't watched the series, but I know the basic things.
So I apologize to anyone who's watched the series and that it doesn't match their personality!!!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#bau team#spencer reid fluff#doctor spencer reid
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No because if I was Viggo I’d ALSO be fucking pissed off?? Like you’re this mastermind dragon hunter that is running possibly the largest operation in the entire of the archipelago that is family owned and ran with your older brother with hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of henchmen to do your dirty work and whenever people even MENTION your name they get scared and you’re this big strong powerful dude in his like mid forties but then a group of mother fucking barely adult stupid ass kids show up and successfully threaten your entire business model? Everything was fine yesterday but then this gaggle of incompetent fools show up with their stupid reptiles and suddenly you’re in a war??? AND the fucking malnourished stick insect of a leader they have has the AUDACITY to steal an ancient relic off of one of your predecessors ships??? AND THEN THEY BLOW UP YOUR ONLY MODE OF LONG FORM TRANSPORTATION??? AND THEN THEY RELEASE A BUNCH OF YOUR STOCK AND SINK THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF YOUR PROFITS BY SAVING THE DRAGONS YOU CAPTURED??? WHAT??? MOTHER FUCKER HAD EVERY SINGLE RIGHT TO START A WAR. HICCUP AND HIS STUPID ASS FRIENDS SHOWING UP AND JUST TANKING YOUR WHOLE ASS LIFE??? IMAGINE BEING A FUCKING KING PIN CRIMINAL EXPERT IN DRAGON TRADING AND YOU LOSE AN ENTIRE WAR TO A GLORIFIED WALKING EMBODIMENT OF AWKWARDNESS AND HIS 5 WEIRD LITTLE CREATURES HE TAKES AROUND WITH HIM. IMAGINE HAVING TO SIT THERE IN YOUR COOL ASS DRAGON HUNTER EVIL LAIRE AND PLAN HOW YOU WERE GONNA FIGHT OFF THE LITTLE RUNT OF BERK HEIR GUY THAT WON’T GIVE UP. IMAGINE?? FUCKING IMAGINE????
WHO WOULD NOT BE PISSED??? THAT MAN HAD A VERY EXTREMELY RATIONAL REACTION BECAUSE THAT WAS LITERALLY THE FOUNDATION OF HIS LIFE??? HIS ENTIRE CAREER GOT NOT JUST ENDED BUT FORCEFULLY FUCKING SLAMMED INTO A WALL OF CONCRETE AND CURB STOMPED BY A FUCKING STEAM ROLLER RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. I mean sure yeah he put up the biggest fight of the century and did his whole ‘I’m gonna mess with your head until you go insane and just fuck off and leave me alone you stupid little annoying boy get a life,’ thing BUT STILL HICCUP WON THAT WAR AND THE AGE OF 18. EIGHT GOD DAMN TEEN.
#And I know Viggo was technically redeemed#and he technically didn’t lose because he switched sides#BUT STILL#C’MON#DO BETTER#Httyd#how to train your dragon#rtte#httyd rtte#race to the edge#viggo grimborn#rtte viggo#httyd viggo#hiccup httyd#hiccup#hiccup haddock#hiccup how to train your dragon#toothless#astrid#ruffnut thorston#tuffnut thorston#snotlout jorgenson#httyd snotlout#fishlegs ingerman#astrid hofferson#httyd astrid#dragon riders#they’re so stupid#art#artist
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Mafia!König falling in love with the illegal back alley surgeon that saved his life. He wakes up in a bright room to a pretty face and he thinks he saw an angel.
He thinks he saw god, and she was wearing a doctor's coat. Well, actually, you were not wearing a white coat. It's way too hard to clean after all the mud and blood that gets on you after botched field operations, and the criminals you worked with never appreciated your cleanliness anyway. If anything, practical plastic coats and lack of light in your eyes is what made them trust you more. Not that you cared about trust - but it meant getting money and keeping away from the worst parts of the community. Konig is the worst part, however. Leader of Kortac, a notoriously evil gang that operated in basically everything but bodies - and yet, they were sending more people to you than you ever had when you were a general practitioner. You never thought you hated these guys, but they did give you too much work...and you can stop it now with a simple drop. Maybe put a bit of air in his veins, maybe just plainly cutting his throat while he is laying on your table. You could stop 70% of the city's crimes with one swift knife swing. Too bad he opened his eyes right when you started to doubt your Oath. "Engel..?" It was enough to drive you off the rails. You were called a dozen names, but it was the first time a man grabbed you by your arm and asked if you were an angel sent to get him to heaven. To save him and his soul with your beauty. You never thought mafia bosses could be this cute in their last moments, but it actually made you reconsider not saving him. Now, two weeks later, you have this hunk of a man-eating your food, sitting on your bed, making his important mafia calls from your house phone, and still refusing to move out. He literally has three mansions in this city alone - and he still spends his days in your house because he can pretend you're his housewife and not an overworked, underground doctor. He tried to convince you to get out of this hole and become his personal doctor - but you're always not quite desperate to agree. Maybe, when his patience will run thin eventually, he will get in your pants...and under your coat, too. At least he protects you now - if any fucker is trying to run after you just stitch them back to health, Konig will be there, a couple of his best boys ready to fucking butcher the poor person. And when you finally have enough of the streets, he will establish you the best practice money could afford...with a very exclusive clientele, of course.
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Enough people have told me to watch Merry Little Batman that I'm doing it right now, and I can't get over Bruce's dad persona. He really decided to settle down and become a family man, and his go-to was to grow a lumberjack beard and start wearing flannel shirts.
Fucking Clark Kent-looking mother fucker.
Also, the fact that so many of you wanted me to watch this but didn't tell me that Damien had to defend the mansion Home Alone style is criminal. That little gremlin went full Kevin McCallister, replete with fire boobytraps. Incredible.
#merry little batman#this is so silly#also the animation style is also high-key reminding me of something from my childhood#but I can't remember what
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9 people you would like to get to know better
tysm for the tag @alexmey-does-an-arts!
1. 3 ships; bowuigi, metadede, heavy/medic(I forget the name lol)
2. first ever ship; alphyne
3. last song; Ghost Cowboys by Louie Zong
4. last movie; Midsommar. That was...something
5. currently reading; Dante and Aristotle discover the secrets of the universe. Pretty fire
6. currently watching; JCS criminal psychology
7. currently consuming; nothing
8. currently craving; Iced Cream. About to go get it. I know there's mind chip in my freezer (:
9 people to tag; @littlegreenwyvy, @garf-official, @d1nosaurpower, @tractor-inside-joke-fucker, @junkydoodlez, @seacrown, @neldu-nak, @darkcanid19, @stormyykat
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Genocide? What's that? Are you a war criminal when you kill your genociders? War crimes is just a synonym for crimes, right? Yeah! Totally! Words don't mean anything besides whatever vibes you catch from social media posts!
In fact I think that counts as religious extremism too! Because you're not a multifaceted person when you're religious, melanated, and hate the forces that tried to wipe you and your people off the planet! Hell, you're not even a person if you're all of the above AND violent!
(Please ignore who and what the violence is aimed at, and the myriad why's that have fuck-all to do with the religion itself.)
Sure, Scar never attacked or brutalized alchemists before the genocide. (He was religious then.) Sure, he literally had a beloved brother who was an avid alchemist whomst he never once attacked or killed. (He was still religious then too.) And suuuuuure, Scar only ever targetted military alchemists, (while religious). And fine, he was disgusted by the practice of creating chimeras because of the horrors wrought on the beings used to form the chimera, and he knows that the state creates these creatures to literally exploit them AND maintain its military force. BUT he also said that these alchemic atrocities are against Ishbala/Ishvala, so obviously he's just an evil, savage, reactionary evangelist for his backwards anti-science culture!
/your average fma enjoyer, who loves fma for being "anti-racist/anti-imperialist" while espousing the most bald-faced racist opinions, and pro-Western imperialist propaganda to boot
Seen a lot of bad takes and misinterpretations of Scar as a character across all major versions of the FMA series, and none betrays a greater failure in grasping his character, his narrative, and the journey he goes through than describing him as a "murderous religious fanatic."
Congratulations! You completely failed to grasp the most rudimentary beats of this character and instead went with a racist caricature instead! Flush your head into a toilet!
#it's really clear what you fuckers think of irl oppressed ethnicities#and i know you assholes see violent resistance/retribution against imperialist forces as equivalent to imperialist violence#we are shown repeatedly that alchemy (like modern sciences) is used to oppress and torture people#it's used for extremely unethical biomedical experimentation & it's used for consolidating power into the state & military#but no it's scar's violence and scar's religion that's the root of the problem#the ~cycle of violence~ you guyyyysssss! scar's as evil as the war criminals (who we vastly prefer anyway!)#bonus points for the clowns who think that if their fash faves should have been tried for war crimes ''then scar should too'' 💩#fma#fma 03#fmab#mine#vent#scar fma#meta
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Stress relief-
Even pros need coping mechanisms.
Pro Hero Bakugo x Reader
Warnings: Sex, Cursing, catching feelings but in denial, being used for sex but not really, there will be a part 2
Mostly GN reader but a lot of fem references... especially in the smut part
While mistakes weren’t often, even Bakugo was still human. And when he fucked up, the whole office felt the ripple effect of his fury.
His friend and by happenstance, neighbor Denki, would sometimes stop on by for a visit or for a hero collaboration; and happened to walk in on one of these moments.
“Yo! Katsu-“
He narrowly dodged a stapler flung past his head.
“DAMMIT! SHIT!”
He took in the scene in front of him. Interns and secretary’s hiding out of Dynamights rampage followed by a path of office supply themed destruction.
He rushed up to him to try and calm him down before he accidentally injured someone and got a lawsuit.
“Woah! Dude! What’s going on?”
“THAT SLIPPERY FUCKER GOT AWAY!”
“Uh… who??”
“THAT SLIMY SWAMP RAT LIZARD VILLAIN THATS BEEN RUNNING AROUND!”
Denki managed to slightly grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a private break room to separate him from the innocent bystanders, closing the door and blocking the handle.
“Dude you gotta chill out! You’re gonna hurt someone!”
It had been a long road for Bakugo and his anger issues. He had come a long way since his youth, and Denki had witnessed most of the growth first hand. And he knew how dangerous he could be when he got like this.
He took a deep breath beneath furrowed brows and aggressively plopped into a seat.
Denki sat across from him, sliding him a bottle of water.
“Alright you wanna tell me what happened?”
Bakugo chugged the bottle before slamming it onto the ground.
“This stupid fucking bank robber keeps terrorizing MY NEIGHBORHOOD and he’s been getting away every single time! I feel fucking useless! And all because of his stupid reptile bullshit quirk! How can I can I ever be number one if I can’t take down a SINGLE PETTY CRIMINAL ON MY BLOCK?!”
Denki took a deep sigh.
“Look man, I get it, but you’re taking it out on your agency and they don’t deserve it.”
Bakugo slouched back and crossed his arms, brows furrowed and teeth grit.
“You gotta find some kind of stress relief before you kill someone dude! You have any hobbies?”
“Work is my hobby. And I somehow still keep fucking up at it!”
“Well I mean something outside of work- when I get over stressed from work I always just go fuck around.”
“You’re a sleaze bag.”
“Look I’m just saying, when was the last time you got laid?”
He sat in contemplation for a dull moment… Bakugo was no virgin, but no playboy either. He just never really had the time or interest. He didn’t like people, and most everyone knew him at this point. Too many gold diggers or secret journalists trying to make him into a marketable tabloid.
“See there’s your issue. You gotta go get out there dude!”
He tched.
“I don’t have the time.”
“Katsuki. We both know that’s bullshit.” He grinned
“I’m just not into anyone right now.”
Denki dragged out a long groan. “Ughhhhh! Please don’t tell me you’re still limiting yourself with your stupidly high standards.”
“All I want is someone who’s hot and has a head on their fucking shoulders. If I wanted to fuck a brainless meaningless hole I’d get a sex doll.”
“So you’re seriously trying to tell me that there’s not a single woman you’ve found pretty and had interesting conversation with?”
He went back into thought. And to his frustration, someone did pop up. The cute little tea shop owner he started to become a regular too a few months ago.
It was so secluded and special, and so precious compared to the rest of the shit hole of a part of town that it was in.
He found it completely on accident, following a string of crimes which led him questioning the locals.
When he entered the secret oasis where that bell rung as he stepped foot in pushing the door open, he was almost awestruck. It was no bigger than a single room, but it was so beautifully laid out and decorated. You could tell that whoever owned it really loved it, like it was their pride and joy. Plants strewn across the walls and little vases on each table, you could tell they were all thoughtfully and meticulously taken care of. The water fresh, the leaves healthy. Atop the windows were hanging glass decorations, causing rainbows to speckle across the walls of strewn art and paintings. It looked magical, he could spend all day in here.
“O-oh hello!!” You rushed out a door behind the counter, messily tying your apron.
“I wasn’t expecting customers this early on a Tuesday haha… what can I get for you?”
He was dumbfounded. Between the lighting framing your face and the scenery around him, he felt so at peace.
“I-“
He found himself almost speechless. He felt like he walked into a magic secret garden, walked through a door to a different world. Especially with how ugly the outside was. Guess you could only afford to live in the poor part of town.
“I’ll uh… take a coffee.”
You tied your hair back swiftly as you worked your way to the espresso machine.
“Alrighty!” You began working your way around the station and whipping something up.
He looked around a little more before settling into a chair and watched as you worked behind the counter. It wasn’t until he saw you pouring something into a cup that he realized he never told you specifically what to make.
He almost spoke up until you started strutting over with a cup of something that smelled amazing towards his way.
“I took a lucky guess. Go ahead and try!”
You placed it in front of him and watched intently as he reluctantly smelled the mystery drink, and took a sip.
His eyes slightly widened, and he downed the whole thing in one go, not even caring that it burned.
“Careful that’s still hot-!”
But he was done before you could protest.
“Are you okay?!”
“…I’ll take another.” He embarrassingly wiped his mouth and looked away.
You sighed in relief and then started laughing.
“You scared me! How did you not get hurt?”
“How did you make a drink so damn good without knowing me?”
He sounded almost accusatory.
“Ah..! Well…” you shyly looked away.
“You a stalker or somethin’?”
“What! No!! I just got a good read on you. Do… you want me to share?”
He looked at you blankly, his signal of approval to continue, but his piercing gaze made you nervous.
“Okay see I noticed that when you came in up you looked in a hurry so I decided to make something that wouldn’t take too long… Then when you just said ‘coffee’ I knew you didn’t have anything particular in mind. Which either meant you didn’t know yet or didn’t actually come in here for coffee… so I knew it had to be something simple. But you didn’t seem quite like the type to just like plain black coffee, weirdly enough, I figured you were more complex than that! But I also could tell you wouldn’t want something overly sweet. So I went with a dark chocolate mocha extra half shot of espresso, for a semisweet yet strong mix, and then I added a touch of cinnamon for some subtle spice and extra flavor…’
You nervously fiddled with the hem of your apron. You knew it was unprofessional and risky to make something without someone asking.
“Well fuck me…”
It was just surprise after surprise. He had even forgotten why he had come in here.
“So… you said you want another?”
And thus begun his frequent ship to your small business. He went in at least twice a week, and he always tipped twice whatever he paid. You two had so many conversations and funny stories shared between the two of you. It became a part of his routine, one that was private and special to him. You were so tucked away and secret; it was like he had you all to himself. No one else worked there, and he hardly saw any other customers. And even when he did, you always gave him special treatment. You’d chat at his table, let him try new pastries, sit and listen to him talk about his day for much longer than you should. Yet somehow… he had never considered sleeping with you.
In his own daze remembering you, he forgot his idiot friend was there, smugly grinning with raised brows.
“Sounds like you thought of someone…”
“Shut up! What the hell are you even doing here?! Go back to your own damn building!”
“So I was right!!”
“Fuck off!!!” He threw the finger as Denki walked out laughing triumphantly.
Fucking idiot. What does he know? He didn’t see you like that anyway. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you weren’t attractive… he just didn’t think you deserved to be nothing but a one night stand. But also… he did have a point.
He took a deep frustrated sigh as he rubbed the crease of his brows.
“…fuck it.”
You were counting the cash in your register as that familiar sound of the bell dung.
“Sorry we’re cl- oh!”
You looked up to see it was just Dynamight.
“It’s just you! Haha… sorry, I close early because of the crime recently. Come on in! Just your usual?”
“I’m not here to order anything.”
“Oh… is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.”
He seemed colder than usual; and it made you nervous. An awkward silence followed by prolonged eye contact, until he slowly walked up to the counter where you were counting, causing you to freeze.
“Do you wanna go out sometime?”
“F-fuck!!” The pro hero was buried between your thighs on his king sized bed, gripping your hips like his life depended on it.
You bit your hand as the other tried not to grab to harshly in his hair.
“Hah… hah…. I- Bakugo…mmngh!”
You squeezed your thighs around him after your second orgasm of the night, pitifully moaning and whimpering as he lapped everything you had to give up.
He came up and pulled your hand from your mouth.
“Why do you keep trying to stay quiet? It’s just the two of us.”
“I’m just… hah… embarrassed..”
You didn’t know how to feel having sex with one of your regulars after one date.. how were you going to go to work and look him in the eyes after this?? Have you no decorum?
“I’m just.. worried that you’ll stop coming to my shop after this…”
He gave you a perplexed look.
“The hell you talkin’ about?”
“W-well now that we’ve…”
“You think I was just trying to fuck you or somethin?? Like I’m some kind of fuck boy?”
He looked angry.
“No! I just… it seems kinda hard to stay professional with a customer after doing this.”
“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna stop coming to your shop just cause we slept together once.”
He crawled upwards to you and held your face.
“I just worry-“
He pulled you in for a kiss to shut you up. It was messy but coordinated, you heard a grunt in the back of his throat as his hardened cock pressed against between your legs.
“You worry to much, you’re stressing me out. Just relax.”
You moaned as he pulled away and nodded. Totally at his mercy.
“Are you ready?” He slid his boxers down.
“Fuck yes.”
He smirked,
“That’s the first I’ve heard you curse.”
Before you could protest he kissed you again. It was sloppy, and full of yearning. He rubbed his cock between your folds, letting the tip rest at your entrance for a brief moment as he pulled his face back and grabbed your hips.
You couldn’t bite back your moans as he slid himself into you. A perfect fucking fit, the stretch burned in such a good way, and hearing his pants as his rested inside you for a brief moment, just basking in the moment.
He moved one hand back to your though and pushed it back, letting himself get a good look of himself fully inside you.
He cursed under his breath. you reached down to rub your clit but he grabbed your wrist and placed it above your head, moving his other hand to do it for you.
“You think I can’t do this?”
He started slowly rubbing circles into you with the rythym of careful thrusts. Each one was experimental, testing the waters of what you could handle.
You two were so in sync it drove you crazy. You subtly thrusted your hips into him, feeling his pubes tickle you each time he bottomed out. He was darker blonde down there, following a gorgeous happy trail that made you drool.
He released his grip from your wrist and held onto your hips so he could steadily increase his pace.
“F-fuck… Bakugo….!”
“Call me fucking… hng… Katsuki.”
You fluttered around him when he said that, making him bite his lip.
“Don’t… fucking do that…”
“Sorry Katsuki..”
Oh you knew what you were doing. And it was taking him all his willpower to not fuck you as hard as he could right now.
He put his hand over your mouth which made you whimper, he decided to fuck you hard but slow, and each time he thrusted you moaned.
You bit his hand, he hissed in pain and watched as you moved it down to your throat.
“Didn’t take you for, a brat.”
“Mm… didn’t take you… as a- sadist-! Ah!” He started going faster with his pace.
“So you wanted this then huh? Acting all fucking innocent..”
He started squeezing on the sides causing you to go lightheaded in the best way.
“For so… hah!! Long! Mng… I’m still surprised you chose me..!”
“Don’t talk like a fucking- idiot- hnn.. youre fucking sexy”
“Mmn! You’re so fucking.. hot.. Katsu…”
He growled at the nickname, whether it was intentional or not.
“Don’t hold back… I can… I can take it.”
You moaned into his ear, knowing he wasn’t going all out yet.
Cursing under his breath he switched both his hands underneath your thighs and put your legs over his shoulders, and he did what you asked. He didn’t hold back.
You couldn’t even think straight. You couldn’t form a coherent thought, it was nothing except him fucking you ruthlessly. His tip kissed your cervix causing a good pain, reaching the deepest parts of you.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! F-fuck!”
Your moans were endless. Blending in seamlessly with his grunts and pants. He wasn’t very vocal, but you enjoyed his sounds nonetheless.
The sounds were filithy, you could feel your wetness leaking out onto his sheets and every noise between the two of you. Nothing else existed outside this moment.
You were in a pleasurable trance that was suddenly cut off as he flipped you over onto your stomach; pinning your wrists behind your back as he fucked you even harder from behind.
The sight of your ass smacking against him and your hands pinned against your back drove him fucking wild. He reached his head down and started biting on your shoulders to hold himself back, your whimper from the pain only made it worse though.
“Mm! Ah! Ah! K-katsu..ki!!”
He growled in frustration, feeling an odd sense of possessiveness every time you said his name.
“M’ gonna mark you up, and fuck you so good you’ll never forget it…”
He started leaving a crude trail of hickeys and bite marks across your shoulders and neck.
“Mmn! Kat- Katsuki…l-let me…-!”
You started to roll over, wanting to see his face, he caught on and picked you up turning you around without leaving inside you, placing you on his lap as he sat upright against the headboard.
“Think you can fuckin ride me baby?”
You whimpered at the name, placing your hands on his shoulders as you started to move up and down. Your pace was no where near as controlled and fast as Katsukis, but neither of you were complaining.
You started to get faster and faster as you felt his dick press up against your sweet spot, desperately chasing that sensation. He could see what you were trying to do as he started or fuck himself up into you, getting a hold of your hips and taking charge.
“Couldn’t take it huh?”
“Sh-shut up… you didn’t give me a chance!”
“I saw how needy you were getting. Just let me take control yeah?”
You dropped your face into his neck, biting the nape to suppress your moans as he started fucking you faster.
You stayed like that for a moment before you started to get close and moved your fingers to rub against your clit, once again he shoved your hand away and took it over.
“What did I hah.. say… before?”
You only moaned in response, gripping one hand onto the nape of his neck and the other onto his chest like you were scared of falling.
He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, rubbing frantic yet gentle circles on your clit while repeatedly hitting your g-spot.
“K-katsu…ki! I can’t.. I-I’m gonna…!”
He fucked you as fast as he could so he would cum at the same time as you.
“Do it…”
He groaned one last time in your ear and it sent you over the edge, he fucked you through your orgasm until your body was shaking, and then he bottomed out one last time.
“F-fuck…!” He moaned out as you felt his dick twitch as he finished inside you.
Both of you sat there still, the adrenaline winding down as you both breathed heavily, basking in the afterglow and silence for a moment before you pulled him closer into an intimate hug.
The silence was comfortable, and part of you both wish you never had to leave.
“Mm.. could go t’ sleep like this..”
“Could you now?”
“Mhm.” Your body fell limp into his.
“We should probably use the bathroom first.”
“Mm. Probably.”
“Mm… Yes. Cmon”
You groaned as he pulled out slowly, all the slick between the two of you pooling into a sinfully delicious mix under you.
You squealed as he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom bridal style.
“H-hey!”
“Im not letting you get a UTI. Go piss and then we’ll hop in the shower. I hate sleeping in sweat.”
“Ugh you’re no fun.”
You reluctantly left his arms to go use the toilet, knowing he was right.
You rested asleep on his chest, as he gazed at the ceiling, listening to the lull of cars outside the window and the sound of your rhythmic breathing. He had one arm lazily strewn over your back, and the other under his head.
He looked down at your sleeping form, and felt something unfamiliar within him… something sentimental, caring, protective.
He slowly and carefully rolled down the sheet to reveal the marks he left on your body and smirked. Closing his eyes and drifting off.
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