#i'm a nerd she's a nerd you're a nerd if you caught it so take that

[msommers]

4, 16, 18 for maeve, meredith and jorina!

ok listen do NOT look @ me for this taking so long i WASN'T absorbed in laying in bed, staring @ the ceiling, constantly thinking thoughts but never writing them down. that's crazy talk. anyway thank u ily <333 // oc asks: childhood edition // placing the read more higher up than usual bc shocking nobody, i don't know how to keep answers short and i wanna save everyone's dashboards from this

4) How was your muse's relationship with their childhood guardians? Has it changed over time, and if so, how? Do they keep in touch?

so check it out. i read this question an entirely different way the first time i saw it and had different answers, doubted them for like 15 minutes straight, then redid it all upon realization. so now here we are

MAEVE — bad! not good!! never improved!!! i wouldn't even call Maeve's parents her guardians in any capacity because they were so horrible at that job. they started lowkey coercing her into developing her charm when she first caught a man's attention for being pretty because they wanted to get stuff out of it, emotionally neglected her the entire time she lived with them, made her feel guilty about the most ridiculous things on a regular basis, literally sold her to Carden the same day he voiced his interest in taking her away, etc etc add a dozen other offenses here. what changed over time would be Maeve having the distance and years to process how they treated her (mother straight up abusive, father on a lower level and mostly through his inaction), accepting it, and working on the struggles/damage they saddled her with. no contact at all, even if i did entertain the age old concept of her discovering where they moved to during her travels with a witcher or two, she wants nothing to do with them.

MEREDITH — so close to both parents, her father maybe a little more so due to extra time together but that didn't lessen the bond between her and her mother. Meredith and Bryce spent a great deal of time together as she was interested in following in his footsteps, and eventually being heir of the teyrnir, which required a ridiculous amount of educating (required is a strong term, but they both agreed it was excellent to have and she loved her lessons) and additional hands-on experience being at his side while he attended his duties. they knew how to make each other laugh, his hugs were her favorite thing in all of Thedas, and she was all but his official right-hand lady by the time origins came around tbh. Sometimes she'll make a snide comment that she knew he would have laughed at and it causes a physical ache how terribly she misses the sound. Eleanor was the one to initiate Meredith's rogue training to further her capability, and that's something she'll always be grateful for. Her mother taught her how to read maps, calculate numbers in a battle, properly host visitors, she was also the one to give her lessons in Alamarri to help preserve the language. They could soothe each other's nerves or irritation simply by being at one another's side, and held entire conversations through glances and expressions alone. Her mother's smile always filled her with warmth and she spends the rest of her life wishing she could see it just one more time.

JORINA — so much love was present, even in the times of trying to figure her out. she and her father were happy in their quiet art activities together, but she shied away from his affection when it became too overwhelming. her mother supported Jorina's fierce independence without question, but couldn't understand the introvert’s need to recharge and on occasion pushed her a little too far outside of her boundaries. they were most likely at the stage of classic moody arguments between a mom and teen before Wenna’s death and Jorina regrets that to no end. Renehn fell into a severe depression after Wenna was gone (plus some other events of the blight but who has the time to list) and it irrevocably altered he and Jorina's relationship as she was forced to step up in her mid-teens to provide for the family, but fortunately they get the time to heal from individual wounds and come together down the line to slowly rebuild their relationship with great patience and new understandings of each other. Jorina finding her own love helped an immeasurable amount with her coming to understand what her father went through because she doesn't know what the fuck she'd do with herself if anything happened to Aleksi. they kept in contact through Jorina's letters sent back home while she worked for the Inquisition (her siblings would read them to him until he was able to do so himself), and through the occasional visit when time was free for it. level of contact after events of trespasser depends on what happened there i guess lmao

16) If your muse could say one thing to their childhood self, what would they say? Would your muse want to meet their childhood self in the first place?

MAEVE — she would jump at the chance to meet her childhood self because the girl desperately needed love and attention that she’d be all too happy to provide, no matter how short their time together would be. trouble is!! this would likely be one of the rare scenarios where she’d struggle to find the right words, because her list of potentials would be so goddamn long she wouldn’t know where to start. she’d likely end up giving her a much-needed hug, a kiss to the top of the head, and telling her smth like “you are stronger than any deterrent that this world may try to put in your path, love. never doubt that.” bc y’know. soft girl gonna soft and not recognize the strength needed to endure all the shit she suffers to reach her happiness lmfao

MEREDITH — “never doubt your instincts. not even for a moment.” it was the doubt that Rendon could be up to anything truly horrible That EveningTM which led to Meredith holding her tongue, perhaps a gentle (or rather: intense as hell, calm down she's just a kid, mere-) nudge could alter that. could change everything, could change absolutely nothing at all, worth the shot tho.

JORINA — she wouldn’t want to meet her childhood self one bit, she'd get so depressed lol. even when she was young, Jorina was always trying to act older than she was and missed out on a lot of the youthful joy and activities she should’ve had because of that. she’d want to tell her to go play with the other kids, put down the chores for a few hours and just have fun, but i don’t think she’d be able to do it. she’d be too upset about the reminder incarnate of how she wasted her happy, full family years batting her mother’s helping hands away and insisting she could handle big girl things on her own.

18) What's one thing that instantly transports your muse back to their childhood? Why?

MAEVE — hearing a child being snapped at in a particular tone (most often by parents in the upper echelons of society) will, sadly, always send her back to being a little girl getting scolded by her mother. she can recognize later in life that she was being chastised for simply acting as an excitable child should, but falling back into those memories brings the shame of "disappointing" and "embarrassing" her mother back to the surface. 

MEREDITH — sometimes chatting with Delilah brings her back to their early teenage years, where they would trade gossip through whispers and giggle as they linked arms before gliding off to find a new source of information, or perhaps a private space to more openly discuss their findings. smth smth prime example of girlhood and she misses that innocent fun, wishes that it hadn't been taken by forces outside of her control. 

JORINA — counting her coin. whether it be checking what's on her person or what she'd been paid for recent scouting work, she'll sometimes flash back to the numerous nights she spent counting and recounting her limited household funds as if some extra money would magically appear and she'd be able to comfortably feed the family for the rest of the week.

[romugh]

INTIMATE STUDIES - nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, gp!bottom!natasha, handjob (n rcv), blowie (n rcv), cockwarming, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex

wc- 2.3k of pure smut

a/n- quick drabble as i'm working my way through BIOLOGY stuff as an ASTROPHISICS and ARCHITECTURE STUDENT. make it make sense?? I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE. not proofread, wrote this in like ten minutes as i was eating an apple :D

synopsis- you're studying biology, natasha comes in, you're doing biology (with her).

The past four hours had been a never-ending slog of human reproduction notes, diagrams of genitals, and biological functions that seemed completely irrelevant to your degree. You were an astrophysics major — the mysteries of black holes and quantum fields were your calling, not the intricacies of testes and ovaries. Yet here you were, neck-deep in textbooks, scribbling notes on a subject you didn’t care for in the slightest. Your biology exam was in two days, and every second spent on it felt like time wasted.

Your hand ached from writing, and your eyes burned from staring at diagrams. The irritation crept up further, gnawing at you, until the sound of the door creaking open drew your attention. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey,” Natasha’s soft voice greeted you. There was a tentative innocence to her tone, one that always tugged at your heart in a way you could never quite explain. Natasha, your shy and awkward girlfriend, a literature major who found comfort in the written word more than social situations. Your Natty — so soft, blushing, and oh-so-easy to tease.

You glanced up, the sight of her instantly pulling you from your academic misery. Natasha stood in the doorway, blonde hair slightly tousled from the nap she’d taken, round glasses sitting low on her nose, and your oversized shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. The shirt swallowed her whole, the sleeves falling past her hands, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how effortlessly adorable she looked. The fact that her boxers were barely visible under the hem of the shirt only made it worse.

She stood there for a moment, awkwardly shifting on her feet, and something about the way she looked at you made a surge of desire shoot through your veins. Natasha was always so shy, always so unsure about these moments. But that only made your pulse quicken, knowing just how easy it was to make her come undone.

“Natty,” you called, your voice low and teasing. “Want to help me study?”

She blinked, eyes wide behind her glasses, but she stepped closer, that innocent curiosity mixed with a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. Her bare legs peeked out from under the shirt, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she padded towards you. She always had this way about her—this quiet, almost timid energy that made you want to take care of her, tease her, ruin her. “Sure,” she agreed, pushing her glasses up. “What are we studying?”

You smirked, eyes narrowing as you slid your textbook to the side. “Human reproduction.”

Her blush deepened, but she tried to play it off, oblivious to the trap you were setting. “I’m not sure I can help with that. I mean, I’m more into poetry than—”

You smirked, your eyes tracing the length of her body, admiring the way the fabric of your shirt hugged her frame. “Oh, I think you can. In fact, you might be the perfect study partner.”

Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as she fumbled for words. “W-what do you mean?”

You caught her by the hips, guiding her until she stood between your legs, her lithe form pressed against your knees. Her blush deepened, her lips parting as she looked down at you, curiosity and nervousness swirling in her eyes.

“I can show you,” you whispered, running your hands up the sides of her thighs, pushing the hem of the oversized shirt higher and higher, revealing the fabric of her boxers. Your fingertips traced the outline of her bulge, feeling the warmth of her body beneath the thin fabric. Natasha gasped softly, her breath hitching as you palmed her gently.

“See,” you murmured, your hand cupping her clothed bulge. “This is all part of the reproductive process.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath coming out shaky as she looked down at you. “I-I know that,” she stammered, but the way her legs trembled betrayed her completely.

“You didn’t expect to be part of the lesson, though, did you?” you teased, your fingers moving expertly as you tugged her boxers down, letting them pool around her ankles. Natasha whimpered softly, her hand clutching the back of your chair for support as you wrapped your hand around her fully. “So sensitive,” you cooed, stroking her with deliberate slowness, your thumb teasing the tip just enough to make her gasp.

Her entire body tensed, hips instinctively bucking into your hand as you increased the pace slightly, watching her lose composure. "Y-you're—," she tried to speak, but her voice faltered, her body betraying her with every twitch and pulse of her length in your grip.

Natasha's breathing grew more ragged, her chest heaving as she clutched the back of your chair, her knuckles turning white from the grip. Her hips twitched involuntarily into your hand, every stroke sending ripples of pleasure through her body. You could feel her getting closer, the way her length pulsed in your palm, the faint whimpers that escaped her lips.

“Y-you’re gonna make me—" Natasha’s voice was barely a whisper, her words tumbling out in a breathless stammer as she squirmed in your grasp. Her face was flushed, cheeks burning with embarrassment as she tried to hold back, but you had no intention of letting her.

"Let go," you murmured softly, your voice thick with dominance. Your hand worked her faster, the slick slide of your palm coaxing her to the edge. "Come for me, Natty."

It was all she needed. With a strangled moan, her body tensed, hips jerking forward as she came, her release spilling over your hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting in a silent cry as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. You watched her, captivated by the sight of her completely undone, trembling in your hand as she rode out her orgasm.

But you weren’t done yet.

Without missing a beat, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the tip of her sensitive length, tasting the remnants of her release. Natasha shuddered, still trying to catch her breath, but when your tongue flicked out to lick her clean, her whole body jerked, a soft gasp escaping her as you took her into your mouth.

“You taste so good,” you murmured against her, the words muffled by the weight of her in your mouth. Natasha's hips bucked again, her hands gripping the chair for dear life once again as you began to work her with your tongue, teasing her back to hardness.

Natasha's body was still trembling from her first orgasm, her breath coming out in shaky gasps as you continued your slow, teasing licks. She tried to steady herself, gripping the back of your chair harder, but the sensations were too much. Every flick of your tongue made her hips jerk forward involuntarily, and before she even knew it, she was starting to harden again.

You smirked against her length, feeling her twitch as she became fully hard in your mouth. "That's it," you murmured, lips brushing against her sensitive skin. "You're already ready for more, huh?"

Natasha whimpered, her face flushed as she bit her lip, too embarrassed to answer. But you didn’t need her to. You wanted to drive her over the edge again, and this time, you were going to take your time. Wrapping your hand around the base of her cock, you began to stroke her in tandem with the slow, deliberate bob of your head.

The warmth of your mouth surrounded her, your tongue pressing against the underside of her length as you took her deeper, inch by inch. Natasha's knees buckled slightly, and her hands flew to your hair for support, fingers tangling in the strands as she struggled to stay standing. Every moan she tried to stifle only grew louder as you picked up the pace, the wet, obscene sounds of your lips moving over her driving her wild.

"S-so good," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, shaking with each breath. "P-please, don’t stop."

You had no intention of stopping. Your hand continued to pump the base of her cock while your mouth worked the rest, hollowing your cheeks as you took her deeper. Natasha's hips bucked forward again, her body betraying her as she chased the pleasure. Her breaths were ragged, and you could feel her getting close again, her thighs trembling as you sucked harder, faster.

She didn’t last long. With a strangled cry, Natasha came, her entire body trembling as her release shot into your mouth. You didn’t falter, swallowing around her, not giving her a chance to recover. Her grip on your hair tightened, her whole body buckling as she tried to remain upright, but the sensation of your tongue still working her through her second orgasm made her lose control completely.

But you weren’t finished.

As soon as you felt her begin to soften slightly, you pulled back just enough to take a deep breath before plunging your mouth down again, taking her all the way to the base in one fluid motion. Natasha let out a strangled moan, her hips jerking as your throat constricted around her. She was completely helpless now, every thought leaving her mind as she lost herself in the feeling of your mouth wrapped so tightly around her. The wet, gagging sounds you made as you deepthroated her pushed her over the edge once again, her body trembling violently as she came a third time, filling your throat with her release.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped, barely able to stand as her legs gave out beneath her, her knees buckling. "I-I can't…"

But the way her hands tightened in your hair told you that she didn’t want you to stop.

As Natasha trembled before you, utterly spent and flushed from her release, you pulled away, wiping your lips with a satisfied smirk. “I think we’re done here,” you said, standing up from your chair, feigning a tone of finality.

The look of disappointment that flickered across her face was instant, and though she tried to hide it, it was exactly what you wanted. A small, embarrassed frown tugged at her lips, her hands fidgeting at her sides, but she avoided meeting your gaze.

"Something wrong?" you teased, letting your words hang in the air. Natasha’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to respond but couldn't find the words. You grinned, taking a step closer, deliberately invading her space.

"Aw, poor baby," you cooed, running a finger along her cheek, your touch feather-light. "Were you hoping for more? Did you think I was really going to leave you like this?"

Natasha’s breath hitched, her eyes darting up to meet yours, wide and vulnerable. Before she could react, you pushed her down onto your chair, her body falling back against the seat as you straddled her in one swift motion. Her cock, still hard despite her exhaustion, slid inside you with ease, stretching you as you sank down on her with a satisfied sigh.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped, her head falling back against the chair as her hands instinctively grabbed at your hips, trying to ground herself in the moment. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the sensation of being buried inside of you, your warmth enveloping her completely.

Without missing a beat, you turned the chair to face your desk once more, your movements deliberate and controlled as you positioned yourself. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightened, but she didn’t dare move. Not yet.

You settled yourself, leaning forward slightly to grab a pen, pretending to return to your notes. Natasha’s eyes, however, were drawn to your cleavage, the way your breasts were just inches from her face. Her restraint shattered as her hands moved up from your hips, one hand slipping beneath your shirt to cup your breast while the other wrapped around your back to pull you closer.

She began to worship your breasts, her lips eagerly pressing against your skin, kissing and sucking, leaving wet marks along the curve of your chest. The soft weight of your breasts in her hands made her lose all sense of control. Her hips bucked slightly beneath you, the friction sending shocks of pleasure through both of you. You couldn't help but smirk, knowing full well what was coming next.

Natasha’s breathing grew more erratic, her kisses becoming more desperate, and before she even realized what was happening, she was coming inside of you. Her hands stilled, her body tensed beneath yours, her hips jerking up as she filled you with her release, barely fifteen seconds after you’d settled onto her lap.

“F-fuck!” Natasha gasped, her face flushed with shame as the realization hit her. “I—oh god, I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

Her words were cut off as her eyes widened in panic, suddenly aware that you hadn’t put a condom on her. Her hands gripped your waist, frozen in place as she stammered out apologies.

"Shh," you murmured, cupping her cheek with a soft smile, brushing her lips with your thumb. "It's okay, Nat. Don't worry." You leaned down, kissing her forehead softly. “I wanted this.”

Natasha looked up at you with wide, bewildered eyes, her blush intensifying as she tried to comprehend your words. “But I—”

You cut her off with another kiss, silencing her before she could spiral further into embarrassment. “I said, it’s okay,” you repeated, your voice firm but gentle. "You did nothing wrong."

Despite her lingering guilt, Natasha nodded, her breathing still unsteady. Her body relaxed beneath you as she wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head against your chest, her blush deepening as she continued to mumble soft apologies.

For the rest of the day, you stayed that way, continuing to study while cockwarming her, her cock still snug inside you. Every half hour, like clockwork, Natasha’s body betrayed her once more. She’d shudder beneath you, gripping your hips as another orgasm washed over her, filling you again and again.

And each time, her face would flush with embarrassment, her whispered apologies slipping from her lips, but you simply smiled, squeezing her tighter, grounding her in your warmth as you reassured her again and again: this was exactly what you wanted.

a/n again- oops? i'm going back to studying again, see y'all! (no taglist for drabbles, unless y'all want one i suppose)

[pupyuj]

okay hear me out... nerd!annyeongz (g!p) who take the reader to pound-town for teasing them🤭🤭

[new anon unlocked!]

-🐶

lordt apologies to 🐶 anon IT'S BEEN LIKE... MONTHS?! 😭 this ask was collecting mold in my drafts omg BUT EHE i'm lucky i had some stuff on it so i can just continue where i left off :DD this is gonna be a bit long too so bear with me ya’llll 😭✊

you weren't their bully, per se... but you would be lying if you said that you didn't make fun of them every once in a while 🤭 they just looked like the biggest losers ever, how could you not? 😭 baggy sweatpants, big hoodies, thick glasses, noses glued to their textbooks, always scribbling something in their notebooks... but at least wonyoung knew how to style herself, yujin was fucking hopeless! and you always made sure she knew,, either by making fun of her outfit for that day, her messy hairdo, and the rugged way she carried herself around the halls... you're always on yujin's ass for no reason 😒😒

and then there's wonyoung who could totally climb on the very top of the social hierarchy if she so wanted to. she was extraordinarily pretty, moderately rich, can definitely fight bcs you were always impressed with how stingy her side-eye is, but she wants to stick with her loser best friend 🙄 stupid girl...

seeing them together always made you excited bcs they were your daily dose of serotonin, for all the wrong reasons! but the thing doesn't happen until you catch them alone in a mostly empty classroom one day, huddled up in the back corner engaged in casual chatter with their textbooks and notebooks cluttered on their desks as usual... you were bored so you decided to pay them a visit!

"you know yujin, i always wondered—" you rudely interrupted their conversation, earning the usual frowns you get from them whenever they see you. ugh wonyoung was so cute glaring at you since you were once again attacking her bff just for the fun of it,, yujin was even cuter. head hanging low, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sleeves... but god she looked pathetic :(( "—how you would look without these..." you pulled yujin's glasses off her face before either of them could react,,

DSKHKSMVK your breath getting caught in your throat after seeing yujin without her glasses??? "well damn.. who knew you could be so sexy, ahn?" you teased, licking your lips and shooting the tall girl a suggestive look bcs she genuinely did look fucking hot???? "you should keep this look! or else you'll never get laid! that's gonna be a waste of that big dick." ofc that was the one thing about yujin that was appealing to you :((

🫠 wony being the one that gets the courage to stand up, trying to snatch yujin's glasses back but you raised up it in the air, laughing and just being a little shit 😭😭 it was funny until you found your ass backed up against their desk, now wonyoung looked intimidating bcs of how much she towered over you and that scary little glare she had on 😰 “leave unnie alone. this is the first and last time i’ll ask.” see now that made you laugh again! she was intimidating, sure, but oh her face was just too cute! and you couldn’t take her seriously when she wore that stupid sweatshirt with the university mascot on it! she even matched with yujin! “what are you gonna do? punish me?” you teased, tilting your head and giggling.. you were so annoying 😭

and then wonyoung sneaks her knee in between your thighs, shutting you up immediately bcs now she was wayyy too close 🫣 “that’s a great idea actually. i always wanted to know if the ‘campus whore’ deserved her title.” whoawhoawhoa 😳😳 you wouldn’t even be able to spit back since wony raises her knee and presses it against your cunt! and ofc you whimpered… and ofc wony doesn’t waste the opportunity to grab your hair from behind and force you to look up at her… “unnie, you wouldn’t believe how wet she is.” wonyoung tells yujin, dark eyes locked onto yours while she slowly moved her thigh… 😵‍💫

“i-i wanna feel too…” yujin was quick to put her hands on you! bcs in truth, even when you're so horrible and straight up rude to her, she secretly gets off to you 💔💔 she’s kinda creepy with it too… stalking your social medias, admiring your pics and jacking off to them from time to time… and every time you’re all up in her face being a bitch all she can think about is using your mouth and filling it up with her load… maybe she’ll get that chance today! 🤤🤤 while wony’s making your ride her thigh, yujin has already ripped your uniform open and pulled your bra down to fondle your tits with her shaking hands… god she was so clumsy! 🙄 (she has never touched a girl in her life, give her a break!)

and both of them make their little dreams come true with their favorite position: yujin seated on a chair while you’re deepthroating her as you’re bent over with wonyoung pounding your tight ass with her own monster of a cock 🫣🫣 you couldn’t believe that the two losers filled you up better than any of the guys or the hot girls you fucked before.. it was almost humiliating how into it you were! allowing the dumb virgin ahn yujin to grab the back of your head and move you up and down her length.. she was so obnoxiously loud that people wandering around the halls probably heard her 😳 and then there was wonyoung who clearly had a lot of anger to express towards you! ramming her cock in your hole and driving herself crazy with how well you can take both of them! fuck, if she was petty enough she could get you pregnant… but that was a mission for another day 🤭 for now she needed her revenge, and that she will get, that’s for sure! 🫢

poor yujinnie who’s too caught up in the feeling that she practically forces her cum down your throat.. she doesn’t hear your gags or feel how you’ve drawn blood on her thigh with your sharp nails 😣 “f-fuck… yujin-unnie, y-you have to fuck her for real… so fucking tight i can’t believe it.. ah!” ugh being talked about as if you were some kind of toy by jang wonyoung of all people was degrading by her voice was unnaturally high-pitched and whiny.. she (and yujin) was so cute and this all felt too good to fight against! 😵‍💫

and that was how the two biggest losers(?) of the campus got their way with the school whore with the big mouth 🤭 they may or may not have kept you in the classroom for a couple hours more.. just fucking you to their hearts’ content.. and it got even more fun when you ended up feeling like you didn’t have enough of them and invited them to your dorm room.. 😳

[luvbugs-blog]

getting caught with the mha boys - part two!

featuring: bakugo

a/n: aged up characters!

warnings: a little steamy

#bakugo

you were sitting in the living room with your friends, listening to a fruits basket episode, sitting next to your childhood best friend, midoriya. the two of you were facing each other, discussing the fact that the united states government just acknowledged the existence of extraterrestrials. the two of you were very passionate during the discussion, handing waving in the air. there was an occasional comment from todoroki who was sitting on the couch as well, but it was mostly rambling conspiracy theories about shape-shifters and ufo sightings.

you heard your boyfriend coming from the familiar stomp of his combat boots. the door was thrown open as he walked through, eyes roaming the room, presumably looking for you. but when he spots you, he immediately scowls, boots stomping a little harder as he turns to go to his room.

you stop your rant and look questionably at your friend.

"what's his deal?"

"i have no idea."

a voice behind you startles you slightly, "i bet he's jealous."

you whip around, placing a hand on your heart. "jeez, todoroki."

"maybe he's right," midoriya throws out there. "he's always been a bit protective of his things."

"you should go check on him." you sigh, knowing he is right.

"if i'm not back in 20 minutes, send help," you joke. todoroki looks at you funny, but at least midoriya laughed.

you meander to your boyfriend's door, taking your time in hopes that his temper might subside. you knock on the door, but don't hear an answer. you knock once more, but still, nothing. you warn katsuki that you're coming in, and hear nothing but a grunt. you walk in and gently shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed. you see katsuki tucked under the covers, scrolling on his phone. you sit next to him, who is facing you, but refusing to make eye contact.

"baby?" nothing. "kats, what's wrong?"

"why don't you just go hang out with your other boyfriend instead of me?" he shuffles around under the covers until his back is turned towards you.

"oh, you big baby." you kick off your shoes and join him under the covers, wrapping your body around his back. "you're so jealous," you giggle in his ear. you see him drop his phone on the bed as he turns back around to glare at you, but he still wraps his arms around your middle.

"am not."

"are too."

"fuck you."

"you'd like too." he glares again, and you just smirk back in response.

"i love you, you know. but i also have been friends with midoriya for as long as i've been friends with you." he frowns but nods.

"i know."

"you want to know what we were talking about?" he buries his face in your chest.

"no."

"we were talking about aliens." he just laughs.

"nerds. all of you." he pulls away to look at you.

"kats-" he cut you off with his lips, bruising against yours. he pulls you closer to him, grabbing onto your hips. his hand slides down your side until his reaches your thigh, pulling it over his hip and holding it there. your hands slide into his hair, pulling slightly, causing him to groan. his lips travel down your throat, sucking lightly, until you get impatient and pull him back to your lips.

he rolls on top of you, body in between your legs, not breaking the kiss, until the door slams open. katsuki rolls off of you and the both of you sit up, fixing shirts and hair.

"y/n?"

"todoroki?"

"half-and-half?"

"are you ok?" he asks worriedly, but not moving from the door.

"of course! why do you ask?"

"you said to come get you in twenty minutes."

you and katsuki look at each other, but before you could say anything, you hear midoriya running down the hall and yelling, "todoroki! she was joking!"

"I"M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

a/n: send me prompts!!

[thewertsearch]

We should hurry this along. My visitor is beginning to set things on fire. […] TT: Who? Some guy. I was joking anyway. I am not in a hurry at all.

You said you should hurry, which is different from saying that you're in a hurry.

If the Alpha Timeline decrees that this conversation will be rushed, then it's still accurate to say it 'should' be hurried, even if Scratch isn't personally pushed for time.

TT: I thought you didn't lie. TT: Aren't jokes essentially humorous lies? Jokes are only temporary lies. If the falsehood is never exposed, there is no punchline. If the punchline is never delivered, the lie is sealed forever, regardless of initial humorous intent.

And this is just bullshit.

First of all, admitting that you lied doesn't retroactively negate the lie. That's not how any of this works. Scratch is just unilaterally deciding that falsehoods only 'count' when they're permanent, a rule he pulled completely out of his foamy ass.

Even if we accept his premise - which I don't - he could still wait arbitrarily long before revealing his falsehood, so that Rose doesn't realize she's been played until it's too late. This definition doesn't meaningfully restrict him from lying, and I think it's purely designed to confuse Rose.

[…] Lies are not funny. TT: I think if you're going to risk tarnishing your record of honesty, you should probably get better material. My joke was objectively funny. Who would know better than I?

And these? These are opinions, which don't have objective truth values. There are so many strings attached to Scratch’s ‘I don't lie’ shtick, I could knit him a better outfit.

Not that it matters, because Rose is in too deep. She's not going to back out now, no matter how suspicious this guy is.

TT: So you're saying an inaccurate statement doesn't count as a lie, as long as you say "just kidding" later? Basically. TT: What if it's much later? Is it still "just a joke?" No, that would be something closer to a prank.

I appreciate that Rose is trying, but her language is still too imprecise. Scratch is immortal, and it's impossible to know what ‘much later’ means to him. For god's sake, he's having this conversation in a single extended second! Give us some hard numbers, fucker!

TT: Are you allowed to lie about playing pranks? If I asked you if you were playing a prank on me, would you tell the truth? I am allowed to do whatever I want. I choose never to lie. I also choose to tell jokes now and then, and to play pranks quite sparingly.

See, the trap Rose is falling into is that she’s buying into the premise of the game. She's delving deep into the intricacies of Scratch's rules, and in the process, has completely forgotten to be skeptical of the guy who's explaining them.

Scratch tailors his manipulation style to whoever he's talking to - and if anyone's susceptible to a nerd-snipe, it's the Seer of Light.

But I can say that I have never played a prank on you, and no statement I have made to you thus far, or will make in this conversation, will contain any trace of falsehood for the sake of setting up a joke or a prank, with the exception of the joke I just made, and another one I will make very soon.

Like – let’s take this statement as an example. We could review the entire conversation with it in mind, and try to puzzle out where the setup for Scratch’s second ‘joke’ is, if it exists at all. Rose is probably doing exactly that – and in the process, has completely forgotten that he just said that he’s fully capable of lying.

He’s literally telling her to her face that he’s deceiving her, but she's too caught up in his games to pay attention. This is what it means to play with your cards face up, and it’s as impressive as it is terrifying.

TT: I'm starting to change my mind. Oh? TT: Yes. I think your joke was funny in retrospect. Actually, your whole shtick is pretty good. I'm warming up to it.

It’s great! He’s a good villain! He’s a puppet who’s got everyone else tied up in strings!

[togetherhearted]

Could I request Nikola, Qin Shi Huang and Hades with a s/o that's from another universe :D? she can travel through universes and can collect the history of the universe in her books/scrolls and write something to change it and erase things to remove them from history/the future

Sorry if this requests is kinda cringey, but I'm sort of a nerd for space :)

Naaaah,you're not cringe come on! It's a love that you have. Nothing wrong with it!

I took some freedom to change a couple of things. But the core is the same. Hoping it's still ok

NIKOLA,QIN AND HADES WITH A UNIVERSE TRAVELER S/O

Nothing was better that landing inside what it looked like a lab. Your eyes scanned projects, blackboards, all full of formulas. The twinkle in your eyes brightening up at all you could take with yourself. It was time to hide though, footsteps echoed in the corridor. You flinched and tried to hide in time but those steps were fast to come. The door slammed open and you were caught;projects under your arms. There was silence between the two of you. tThe tall man noticed the warp behind you, then looked better at you, at what you were wearing. -Are you perhaps?- He started -F-from the future?!- He shouted with enthusiasm. -I..uhhh- -Oh no, no. Don't tell me. I'll figure it out!- You watched him circling you, a smile on his face, muttering about science. Was this the sign to flee? As he kept circling around you you smiled amused;no matter the universe Nikola Tesla was Nikola Tesla,your over excited lover.

Where did you land this time? Judging by how comfy you were it was probably a cushion;no wait,too big to be just pillows. As per always you didn't recognize the place, warping from the past to future and vice versa was still troublesomea nd let's not talk about universes jumps.  You hopped from what happened to be a bed; your figure searching for something to take away with you. Though your lookout was stopped once you heard a male voice from behind. -Looking for something?- Your head snapped at the young man. The blood washing away your face as you recognized the first China emperor. -Oh no no...I was...- Words died in your throat as he walked towards you with confident steps. He didn't seem that pleased to have visitors. Only one solution was possible;warping again but this time without a single piece of paper. Mission failed. Time to go to the Qin of your universe.

Another day, another jump between the fabric of times and reality. Where were you this time?And why did it look so dark? Luckily you always had a backup plan. You lit up a light and walked down a narrowed corridor. You entered a room. A man was hunched on a desk,his mind seemingly too focused on what he had under his nose to even notice your entrance. This was risky but you liked the risk and your mission was worth it. You took little steps towards the pile of books on the corner. You just had to take a look at the covers, grab one and warp away. You were now close enough to read the titles when a hand grabbed your wrist. -So, you wanted to steal from the king of the underworld...- His deep voice gave you the chills. That was the place you warped in;Hades domain and he didn't look happy to see you,of course he wasn't;he wasn't your lover here. You were in big trouble now.

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Badboy!miguel x nerdygirl reader

Where like badboy!miguel has an interest into this one specific nerd (which is reader) always trying get her attention,doing anything to impress her,even when she clearly doesn't want to deal with him, and that just get miguel to play harder,until one day he saw reader laughing and smile hard while blushing mess with an boy,causing anger to boil inside of him,veins popping but he doesn't show it,he wait until the end of the day and beat the hell of the boy, and grabing reader an pinned her down to an wall dealing her with his large body, this makes her scared and feel small she never saw him so angry before.

You could put nfsw if you'll like

Oh boy the one everyone’s craving… that’s a lot of pressure haha

Head Over Heels

(Badboy!Miguel x Nerdy!F!Reader)

CW: NSFW, yandere type shit, beating, too big, college, dirty talk in Spanish (all characters are well over 18)

Random note: I know you didn’t say it specifically but “Badboy” and “nerdy” makes me think school so college? Yeah idk sorry-

Miguel O’Hara watched as you walked through the courtyard. He loved to watch your skirt bounce, the pleated fabric swaying as you so elegantly made your way across campus. There were practically hearts in his eyes as his gaze never left your gorgeous form. You never noticed him of course. Part of him wished you would. But the other part was happy with his little secret. Stalking was such an ugly word, but how else would one define his actions?

[I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention]

There were times he did try, tried to get you to even look at him. Those weeks he felt particularly desperate. His throat was dry, skin warm to the touch. It was as if he were sent into a heat. Those days he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stay in the bushes watching silently. Miguel would get close to you, enough to brush against you and take in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

[You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time]

“Oh- sorry!” You looked up at him, apologizing for bumping into his arm. You hadn’t known at the time it was on purpose.

His face flushed as he looked down at you, your voice sent shocks through his body. “It… it’s alright.” He managed to mutter as you walked away, having seen your friends approaching.

That one encounter played in his mind on repeat over and over again. The one time you had spoken to him. You were so sweet, so kind to him, it made his dick twitch in his pants. Your voice was like music to his ears, he couldn’t get enough of it. Until then he had been content just watching you from affair. Now, he needs to hear you. He needs to hear that angelic voice.

[Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away]

It soon developed into Miguel not being so hidden. After months of stalking, he finally started making real moves. He liked bringing you gifts, offering you rides places, offering to help with your assignments. You accepted, of course, who wouldn’t accept such kind gestures. He seemed like a lovely friend. You thought that’s all it was, a new friendship blooming, and that he was just a generous man. You thanked him many times, and he’d always respond with something about it being no big deal, and that he just likes seeing you smile.

His response was bullshit. It was a big deal. It was a huge deal to him. Every tiny action was important to him. Hearing you call him a friend, a pal, a buddy… It drove him mad. He wanted you to want him. He needed you to need him. He needed you, needed your body, your voice, your touch… He would do anything. No matter how obvious he made it, you never caught on. Perhaps you did and were just playing hard to get. He wasn’t sure. But either way, he hated it.

Miguel brought you flowers, chocolates, made valentines day such a big deal. He even called your little get togethers “dates”. He got no response, which made him more desperate. This you caught onto and started to irritate you. You loved Miguel dearly, but only as a friend. He never seemed to get that. He just wasn’t your type. He’s the leather-jacket-motorcycle-riding-cigarette-smoking “bad boy” of the university. You’d much rather stay in your dorm reading a nice book or finishing up your assignments. Not galivanting around town on a bike that is super dangerous while smoking which is also super dangerous and scaring the weaker students.

You hoped one day he’d move on, and even tried to set him up with one of your friends. She seemed much more his style, “goth” as you called it. She was much more punk than “goth” but didn’t care enough to correct your misunderstanding. They seemed to get along well. They hung out a few times, and she started to look forward to seeing him. You thought maybe he finally would move on, and so could you. She would always call you to talk about how much fun they had, how he took her for late night drives on his bike and such.

Even with this new friend he had, Miguel still wanted you. His persistence never let up; he still wanted you. So, when he saw you in the courtyard with a handsome fellow, his arm draped around your shoulders, he was filled with rage. An intense fury filled him, fiery passion burned within as he watched you. Someone was touching his girl. He couldn’t stand that.

The longer he watched, the angrier he became. Who did this guy think he was? He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve to see that smile, to hear your angelic laugh. You giggled at whatever this dickhead was telling you. Miguel scoffed to himself. What could he say that earned a laugh from you? No one knew you like he did. He certainly wouldn’t let this dick get away with this. Miguel wouldn’t- no, couldn’t let him get away with being so handsy, so touchy so… affectionate with his girl.

You blushed as this man talked to you, his voice so smooth and sultry. Miguel hated it. He hated seeing another man make your cheeks flush. He wanted that to be him. He would make sure it was him, no one else. No one else could even look at you, touch you, make you feel oh so good like he could. You didn’t know it yet, but no one would be as good to you as Miguel. Only Miguel. He needed to do something.

That night, he followed your new boytoy back to the men’s dorms. Miguel Stalked behind this man for a good ten minutes before pulling him down an unlit hallway, covering his mouth with a large hand to hide any screams. He struggled and strained against Miguel but was helpless in that tight grip. Miguel pushed him to the ground and started kicking him repeatedly, saying things about you being his and only his. He repeated phrases about not going near you again, never speaking to you again, not even looking at you or passing you in the hallway. You belonged to him.

After the attack he left the guy laying there on the ground, bloody and severely bruised… and maybe with a broken rib or two just to really get the message across. Now he had to find you. He needed to. He needed to see you, to hold you in his arms. He’s sure you’ll need comfort when you realize your boy toy is ghosting you, and he’s just the man to provide said comfort.

Miguel grinned when he saw you making your way to your dorm. You were alone. Perfect. He made his way over to you, coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. The gesture made your heart jump. A million thoughts ran through your hand, wondering if you were being attacked or if your boy toy was trying to scare you. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against your neck. That’s when you saw his hair and caught the familiar smell of Miguel. He smelt of subtle cologne and smoke.

“Miguel? What are you doing?” You turned your head to look at him. He didn’t reply as his hands wandered over you. As much as you hated to admit it, this was kind of hot… His hands were so big, and glided so expertly over your frame, over every curve. They cupped your breasts perfectly, and you let out a quiet moan as he started to knead gently. “M-Mig… let’s take this somewhere more private-” Before you finished your sentence, he scooped you up in those strong arms and carried into a darker hallway.

“This’ll do, cariño.” He growled into your ear. His large body pressed you into the wall, making you unable to escape now. He towered over you, hands on either side of your head to keep you right where he wanted you. You blushed as you looked up at him, a playful smirk on his lips. Miguel leaned down and kissed you passionately, a hand moving to cup your cheek as the other made its way down to your skirt. He pushed the fabric up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. You returned the kiss, your arms reaching around his neck to keep him close.

You gave into him, let him do what he wanted despite every moral instinct in you saying this is wrong. You had always thought you could never be with someone like Miguel, that you two were just too different for each other. But fuck… the way his hands moved… all those ideals of what the perfect guy for you was crumbled away, replaced by the thought that the only one for you was Miguel. He had succeeded in doing exactly what he wished, he wanted you to be only his, and he got that.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt a thick finger rub against your wet panties. Miguel smirked when he felt just how soaked you were, pulling your panties to the side and dragging a finger through your slick folds. You shuddered and let out a moan as his finger grazed your clit.

“Qué dulces sonidos, mami.” Miguel groaned in your ear as he traced circles around your clit, listening to the heavenly moans leaving your mouth. Your hand quickly moved to his waistline, fumbling with his belt haphazardly as you urgently tried to free what you so desperately wanted. He chuckled at your desperation, bringing his hand down to assist you. He slid his belt off, letting you drag his pants and boxers down. You watched as his erection sprang free, face flushed red as the wetness between your thighs increased.

He smirked and pressed against your body more, his cock sliding between your folds, He covered his length in your slick before pressing the tip to your hole. Fuck, he’s big… Almost too big… You thought to yourself. Miguel knew this would be a tight squeeze, but he didn’t care anymore. You cried out as he shoved his erection inside you, stretching your hole so much with barely any time to adjust. He groaned as your walls contracted around him more, and he captured your lips in another kiss to quiet you down a bit.

You moaned into his mouth as he pushed into you further and held one of your legs up, allowing him to slide even deeper. Miguel continued to push in until his hips met yours, giving you time to adjust. That pause only lasted a few seconds, however, before he started thrusting. His pace was slow to begin with, he loved listening to your whines and moans as his length moved in and out of your cunt. He trailed kisses down your jawline and neck, his hands holding onto your waist. He groaned as your walls tightened around him more, his nails digging into the soft skin of your waist as he tries to keep himself composed.

He picked up his speed, fucking you into the bricks. He didn’t want to finish before you, even though he felt practically edged since he first laid eyes on you. He was determined to make you finish first, to prove you needed him just as much as he needed you. You gasped and moaned as his pace quickened, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over. You felt a familiar heat forming in your gut and he rutted into you like a desperate animal, your hands gripping his jacket to keep him close.

“M-Miguel…” You moaned and your grip tightened a bit. You felt so close already, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. He felt it too and tried so hard to keep himself together. His hips stuttered, thrusts losing the pattern he set. Your voice didn’t help, hearing you say his name so cute and sweet just fueled the flames of his lust. Miguel dipped his head down, hiding his face against your neck.

Miguel groaned and grunted as he felt his release approaching. You gasped and moaned as your orgasm ripped through you. He groaned when he felt your walls contract once more, causing him to release inside you as his hips stuttered more. He fucked you slow and deep, pushing his cum in further as it spilled inside you. You rode out your orgasms together, his hands moving down to your ass and kneading gently as you both came down from your highs.

You whimpered a little as the overstimulation, his cock slowing to a stop before he pulled out. He fixed your panties, keeping all that cum inside you, and he let your skirt fall back down around your thighs. Your skin felt so hot, every brush of his fingers sent a wave of heat through your body. You’re in a daze as Miguel fixes his pants.

“My dorm or yours?” His voice brought you out of your daze and you looked up at him.

“Hm? You know we can’t have each other in our dorms.” You chuckled a little.

“Like I care about that.” Miguel smirked a little as he pulled you into a kiss.

————

@theaussiedragon @jukioku @https-gassen @your-antares-universe @camzzn @kaqua @aug-ust69 @zaunsin @honeycomb-biscuits @lookingforgoodthings @lalalalala-888 @bustmybrain @downbadforurmom @m3wh0 @loosecan @qiaipia @ozzmodeus-main @nobloggy-onlyread @beingdeluluisthesolulu @whosking @irmiki @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @jasmineandmatcha @bookmark-anon @sarapaprikas-blog @gaby-3 @they-love-snacks @anakinskywalkerwhore @strrchasm @gecko290 @thel0velykey190

[insomniactic-daydream]

Really?- Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Part 5)

<- (Previous Part 4)

Summary: Y/n and Bakugo being supportive love sick idiots. (I'm too lazy to write a summary rn)

"What is this shit? Why is the fabric weird?"

"Those are your gloves. They'll help you adjust to the seasonal changes. Warmer in the winter and even more sweat in these warmer temperatures.

It's made with metal thread produced by yours truly. That way, they dont wear out easily." you say while tidying up some screws.

Bakugo's questioning has been going on for the last few minutes. If you didn't know better, you'd think he's trying to take your place in the support course. You swear he's taking up all the oxygen in the unventilated shed; nothing but an open window.

"You spent time sewing this shit together after creating the thread?"

"I am the best, aren't I?" You say, looking up from the gauntlets to meet his eyes with a smirk. He quickly turns his head in another direction, avoiding being caught flustered.

"Tch, as if. I just didn't think you losers had to put together so much shit just for one hero's gear." He grumbles, taking on a new appreciation to support course people and workers.

"Well, now you know not to be cheap when it comes to your agency's gear in the future, right Number One?" You say before grabbing the gloves and one of his arms.

You slip his hands into the fingerless gloves; shockingly compliant. Meanwhile, Bakugo is wondering how the hell your hands are so soft given your job. One of the pros of having a lava quirk.

"Tch damn right, nerd. Now the hell are we doing now?" He says, eyeing Y/n's calm and zone in look on her face.

"Do you ever stop asking questions? We're assembling your shit together already. If anything too tight or loose, tell me, and I'll adjust it. " You say as he examines the gauntlets on his arms, opening and closing his fists.

"One of the rings for my ultimate blast is a bit snug. It's making harder to pull on to activate it." He says while Y/n grabs the defective gauntlet pulling out the ring.

Y/n also grabs his hand again while heating up the ring with her quirk and goes to the finger in question; which so happens to be his ring finger.

"Oi, what the hell do yo -" Bakugo says in fear for his finger to be charred off or 3rd degree burns at least. He pauses as he realizes the ring is also being cooled down with your ice quirk.

"What too soon for you to say yes?" you say through a chuckle, jokingly makes it seem she's proposing to him.

That's when Bakugo quirk goes off, earning a little harmless explosion to Y/n's face. Even Bakugo was not sure he meant to do that, but he quickly composed himself.

"You're an idiot." He says, rolling his eyes and his face away from you. You let out a giggle.

"What? If this this career doesn't work out for me I had to make sure I'm rich somehow." She says sarcastically.

"Your father is literally loaded, dumbass." He says to you; now chuckling at your stupid joke. Totally forgetting that you almost burned his finger off. (He's being overdramatic)

You were an idiot he thought. But something warm erupted in his chest, thinking about your unwavering confidence in him to be number one in the future.

You always refer to his goal as something you believe he can actually achieve. You don't criticize his personality or tell him it's impossible with an ego like his. You actually think he's going to be someone big someday.

And if he were honest with himself, he wouldn't mind if you're there when he does make his dream a reality.

"Hm, I guess you're right." You say laughing, and you help him reattach parts of the gauntlets.

"Besides, you're not half bad at this shit. I don't think you'll fail even if you tried." He grumbles softly, almost embarrassed he's complimenting you.

"Guess I proved myself to you, huh then number one?" You look up to make eye contact with him.

He stares back intensely. Like a trance, he can't shake off.

"I guess you did, idiot." He says softly. He admit he had his reservations about you, but you ended up proving him wrong in the such short duration of time you've known each other.

The room falls silent for a while. Nobody mentioned the moment that just happened between them. Too stubborn to say the obvious.

"So why the support course? And how come not your brother too?" Bakugo says, clearing his throat into a new conversation. Y/n, let's out a pondering hum.

"Hm, well, I did get my quirk a little later than him. I was always around my dad, but he only focused on training Shoto for the time being."

"I'd usually stay around the agency when I was younger while my mother took care of my siblings at home. That's how I ended being looked after by the agency's support crew." You say with a shrug.

The information made Bakugo uneasy. How come your mother didn't take care of you? But your speaking cut off his thoughts.

"From then, I already learned the basics. And so, even when my quirk came and my dad pushed me towards becoming a hero, I knew that I wanted to make support gear. And I wanted to be the best at it." You say with a smile as you adjust the newly fitted ring back into the now newly completed gauntlets.

"Well, if my gauntlets serve any proof, I'd say your smartass is already halfway there." Bakugo says wholeheartedly to you. Hoping his words gave you an ounce of confidence you've given him.

"Really?"

"Really"

"Guess I should charge you extra then, huh? I mean, I'm going to be in pretty high demand then."

"You know what. I take it back."

As if he wouldn't pay top dollar for you if that were the case.

(Part 6) -> (Not Made Yet❗️)

I literally cringed writing this. Idk why I can't write lovey stuff 😭

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." 

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." 

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. 

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" 

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" 

"What, now you care?" 

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. 

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?" 

*

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like- 

"Watch out!" 

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him. 

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph. 

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-" 

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time." 

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way. 

For a second, nobody says anything. 

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful." 

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!" 

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …" 

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide. 

"I, erm … Dustin." 

"I'll stay here with Dustin." 

*

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick. 

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids." 

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light. 

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though." 

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee. 

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs. 

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-" 

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-" 

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon." 

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly. 

Dustin sighs and stands. 

"Coming, Hop." 

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says. 

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise." 

The door clicks shut. 

The car glides away. 

Eddie buries his face in his palms. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit." 

Eddie groans. 

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[george-weasleys-girl]

I saw your requests are open and I couldn't help myself 🤭 I was wondering if I could have some Fred fluff with

"I never said I was in love with her!" "Maybe not out loud."

maybe at Grimmauld place and readee is a part of the order? thanks so much and I hope the New Year treats you wonderfully!

A Little Confession

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: a couple curse words

~•~

Y/N sneezed as she stepped through the door into Grimmauld Place. It wasn't at all as she'd envisioned it. She'd expected the Black family home to put on a more regal air or at least be a little less dusty. And, perhaps, it once did. Instead, the years of neglect had left it dark, dingy, and a little depressing. She might've reconsidered her decision, were it not for the sudden laughter of one particular redhead echoing down the shadowy hallway.

Fred Weasley, of course, wasn't the only reason she joined the order. Though it might've appeared that way to any onlookers. She fiercely supported Harry and the cause. Fred was merely the linchpin that cemented her decision.

Y/N had had a crush on the older twin since their fourth year. And while they knew each other, she was never a part of his inner circle. Too shy to approach him directly, she'd been looking for the right opportunity to sidle her way out of his periphery and into his focus. Joining the order gave her the opportunity to do something good and, hopefully, get a little closer to the notorious prankster.

~•~

"Why is she here?" Fred's wide eyes watched Y/N cross the room.

George followed his twin's gaze. "Apparently, she joined the order. Is that a problem?" He asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

"No... I don't guess so... I don't know," the older twin sputtered. "I'm just surprised, is all. And, it's, you know, dangerous."

"Well then, lucky thing you're here to protect her." George chuckled and patted his brother on the shoulder before wandering off.

Fred rolled his eyes and glanced back over at Y/N, who was chatting Mad Eye.

His mind whirled off kilter. Fred had long admired Y/N. He first noticed her late in their fourth year when she laughed at one of his stupid jokes. There was something about the way she looked at him. The way her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed a rosy pink when he looked at her that melted his heart.

Y/N wasn't like any other girl he'd ever dated. Intelligent and insightful, she didn't just parrot back facts to the professors. She picked ideas apart and questioned everything. Even, it seemed, her own questions.

That alone made her one of the hottest girls he'd ever met. The fact that she was beautiful too was just the icing on the cake.

But what would a girl like her ever want with an impulsive jokester like him? She'd be better off with a nice, quiet nerd, he'd always surmised.

And yet her she was smiling at him from across the room.

~•~

Every time Y/N looked up, she caught Fred staring at her. But whenever she worked up the nerve to go over and talk to him, he always seemed to disappear. It was getting on her last nerve, and she was determined to find out what was going on.

As soon as she reached the top of the stairs. She heard voices from behind Ginny's bedroom door.

"You should tell Y/N," George said.

"Tell her what?" Fred snapped. "There's nothing to tell!"

"That you're in looove with her," Ginny replied, exaggerating the word love.

"I never said I was in love with her!" A note of panic tinged Fred's voice.

"Maybe not out loud," George said. "But the way you can't take your eyes off her says otherwise."

"The two of you have lost your minds!" Fred yelled, then stomped out the door, completely oblivious to Y/N's presence, until he slammed right into her.

She stumbled backward, stunned from the impact.

"Oh shit! Y/N, are you ok?" Y/N looked up to see Fred worried face hovering over hers.

"Uh yeah... yeah, I think so... "

"Here, let's sit down," Fred took her hand and led her into Ginny's room.

She nodded and followed him in, sitting beside him on the bed.

Fred glared at his siblings. "Why don't you make yourselves useful and go get Y/N something to drink?"

"Oooh, want some alone time, do you?" Ginny taunted.

Y/N looked up to find George and his little sister smirking down at them. "I - um, I could use a glass of water or something."

"Some water. Right," George chuckled. "C'mon Gin, let's go make ourselves useful." They both sauntered out of the room snickering.

Fred huffed and turned back to Y/N. "You sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, just a little dazed," she said, giving him a small smile. "I'm good."

"Good. Good. That's good..." Fred stammered. "Hey, um, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"It's ok," Y/N smiled again and reached up to push her hair away from her face only to realize Fred was still holding her hand. The redhead followed her gaze to stare at their clasped hands. He broke out into a cold sweat, but before he could pull his hand away, Y/N spoke.

"Is what I heard true? You know, what George and Ginny said?"

"What, G - " Fred began. "Wait, you heard all that?" His hand still firmly held hers.

Y/N simply nodded.

"I... um... maybe," Fred's cheeks burned bright. "I just..."

"I really like you too. Alot." Y/N blurted out. "If that, uh, if that helps."

"Y-you do?" Fred's eyes went wide.

"Yeah..."

"Like, alot?"

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the dumbfounded look on Fred's face. "Like, this much," she said, and before she could change her mind, Y/N leaned over and kissed him.

It was short but deep and passionate. And when they pulled back, their foreheads remained pressed together. "You really do like me." Fred grinned.

"Told you so," Y/N replied, pulling a chuckle and another brief kiss from the redhead.

"George and Ginny will be incorrigible - " Fred began.

"Of course we will," George bounced through the door with Ginny following close behind.

"Did we miss it?" Ginny asked, handing Y/N a tray hold glass of water and a slice of cake.

"We missed it," George clicked his tongue. "Told you we took too long."

Y/N watched their banter with her brows crinkled together. "Missed what?"

"The kiss, of course!" Ginny said as if it were completely obvious. "Hey! Maybe you two could replay it?"

"No," Fred deadpanned.

"Aw, c'mon!" Ginny pled.

"No," Fred repeated.

"But I bet you're so cute!"

"Gin - " the older twin started, but Y/N interrupted him.

"We are," she grinned and grabbed Fred's face, kissing him full-on.

Cheers erupted from their little audience.

"Happy now?" Fred asked after a few moments, his words a bit breathless.

Ginny squeed.

"I gotta admit," George said. "You two are pretty damn cute."

Fred narrowed his eyes at his siblings, but before he could say anything, George held up his hands. "Alright, alright. We're outta here now," he put his arm around Ginny's shoulders. "C'mon, sis, let's give our little lovebirds some kissy time." Then turning to wink at Fred, he herded Ginny out the door.

Once they were gone, Fred turned back to Y/N, chuckling. "Welcome to the family, love."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

@phant0mkitsune @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw @sierraluvzz @min-aaa

[bloogers-boogers]

Lucifer: *kneeling down infront of Adam as he takes a small box out from his pocket*

Charlie gasped in realization of what is happening, covering her mouth with both hands, while the others snapped their heads to know what was going on.

Adam blinks dumbly while staring at Lucifer.

Lucifer, suddenly nervous by all the attention: ehem *clear throat as he pulls on his bowtie* Adam, it's been a pleasure being tied to you by all means of a very intimate relationship-

Adam: what class of shit is this? Nerd poetry in the hotel? It was already lame with all those songs

Lucifer: Adam, please. I'm trying to be romantic here. EHEM *clears throat once more but with much more intensity* I've fallen so deeply in love with you, that I've grown blind to your stupidity

Adam, immediately blushing: *stammering * f-fuck you!

Lucifer *opens the box revealing a beautiful golden snake ring with a green gem in its eyes*

Adam, exhales air with widened eyes.

Lucifer: what I'm trying to ask you is... would you give me the honor to be your husband, to love and cherish you for the rest of our eternal lives. Would you marry me, Adam? *a bunch of roses summoned from the ground with flames around Adam and the lights darkened only letting Adam steal the spotlight*

Charlie was wiping tears of joy as she watched the two from her seat next to the bar. She was a emotional wreck like Lucifer.

Adam blinks while processing everything.

Adam, says simply: no.

It took awhile for Lucifer to process Adams words before having to process his rejection, his heart sunk: No?

Adam, shrugs: No. I'm married, I cannot marry again unless I get a divorce those are the rules

Lucifer stands up immediately, absolutely confused and offended: YOU'RE MARRIED!? But! But- but Eve- she's gone, she left you! You said-

Adam, stops him with one hand in the air, correcting him: not Eve. To somebody else. Well something else

Lucifer lifts a brow even more in confusion: whaT? What do you mean by that?

Adam: yeah, it's kinda like a crazy story. So me and Lute once crashed into the archangels base and let me tell you it was scary as hell. We thought we were gonna get caught, so like, we were like really sneaky about it and somehow me and Lute split up and we got lost, that place is HUGE. But yeah, I entered this weird looking door that had a really intense shimmer around it and I went in and one thing lead to another and I got married to Michael's celestial goat

Lucifer: WHAT

Adam: I know, I know. Crazy stuff. Anyways, yeah, Michael caught us, obviously because his goat was involved here, took us to Sera. Scold the shit out of the three of us and he did try contacting God to brake our holy union but nope, nothing. So I'm stuck married to that goat until one of us dies DIES, like actually die.

Lucifer, still processing.

Lucifer: no fucking way a goat is preventing ME from marrying you!?

Adam: yes way. I told you I'm a man of my faith I cannot marry you until I'm single again

Lucifer: but you would marry me if you were??

Adam: uh duh? We've been together for over two years now, I think it's kinda official at this point

Lucifer poofs away as he summons books about how to brake heaven barriers

[lixiesfreckless]

No Translation Needed | h. h.

➸ synopsis: when the language barrier between you and a stranger becomes too wide, your shared interests bridge the gap for you.

➸ starring: hwang hyunjin x female reader

➸ word count: 2.7k

➸ general content: artist!hyunjin, there is somewhat of a language barrier, both people are complete art nerds and it's way too endearing, takes place in south korea, flufffff(I'm so fond of this man)

➸ warnings: microscopic mention of alcohol

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: an older fic but I'm still so attached to it. two kinds of people: the type who hear hyunjin speak english and move on, and then me

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don’t need to listen to it while reading, but rêverie by the man, the myth, the legend, claude debussy goes SO HARD ON THIS FIC LIKE-

You were never the type to dabble in realism.

A pair of headphones, a wide brush, a blank canvas, and a bucket of red paint; that was your activity of choice on friday nights. Nothing that came from that ever resembled anything in particular, but it was never supposed to. Just looking at it, one could tell what emotions fueled the creative process those nights.

The feelings behind them were real enough, you'd hear people say.

But of course, there's always some people that detest abstract art. They say it takes no talent, no thought, that you're just slathering paint on a canvas and expecting to get recognition for it. Sometimes you think they're right.

Other times you buy a plane ticket out of the country, you know, for fun. If you were a starving artist, maybe you'd think about letting their words get to you.

And while some would argue that booking a spontaneous vacation to Seoul could classify as a form of escapism, the painting in front of you has you wondering whether you could mark this trip in your tax forms as a business expense.

All of your years in art school and not once had you ever learned so much from one piece of canvas.

Art museums are designed to look boring. They are supposed to draw your eye from one acrylic-covered canvas to another, making you forget about your surroundings and immerse you into the various artworks. This one was no different, hues of beige and black and white littering the geometric space.

That being said, you are certain that this painting would have caught your eye even if it was posted in Times Square.

You had made your way across the room, ears picking up on the few Korean phrases you knew as strangers shifted around you. A graphite cityscape. A gouache vase of flowers. A portrait made of ink prints on wood. The exhibit you randomly picked over tonkatsu and soju last night in your hotel room was definitely a good one, no doubt.

And to think you almost walked past this piece.

Bold strokes of blue, tiny specks of white, all on a frame that was wider than your wingspan. 

The girl was depicted just off center, in some billowy white dress.

Floating? Drowning? 

You settle on suspended as your footsteps slow down, turning to approach the watery scene.

Staring at it feels like staring at a glass of water. You can't definitively say whether it’s half-empty or half-full, whether she’s reaching for the surface or letting herself sink. Her face is covered by wispy brown hair, obstructing her true emotions from view. Somehow you know this was a conscious decision the artist made, to let the viewer come to their own conclusion on the piece.

Even though you know about the negative effects that human oils have on artworks, you still find yourself fighting the urge to reach out and touch it. To feel the ripples of the oil paint and somehow find your own hand soaked, as if you reached through the canvas barrier and felt the cold loneliness yourself.

Impressionist paintings did always have this charm about them, at least to you. They felt abstract upon inspection, just a mess of strange brushstrokes and controversial colors. And yet when viewed from a distance, it feels like a completely different experience. Up close, a dizzying mix of the shades of the sky. A step back, and it's an unspoken thesis on the solitude of limbo, or whatever you've decided to name this piece.

You glance at the info card at the bottom right corner.

Buoyancy- Hwang Hyunjin

You make a mental note to research him later before your eyes get pulled to the subject once again.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You have been staring at his painting for eight minutes.

He had walked around, chatted with other featured artists, talked with a few strangers, but when he came back, you had acted as though you were one of the items on display; still locked in the same position as before. Eyebrows furrowed, one hand resting on your canvas tote bag, the other in the pocket of your trousers. 

In the nicest way possible, you looked like a tourist.

But tourists don't have long attention spans, and you could have been roleplaying a statue with how long you'd been standing there.

A strange mix of anxiety and excitement rushed through Hyunjin when he found you still standing there. 

No one had ever observed his art for that long before.

At least, not in one sitting. Definitely not like this. Why haven't you moved on? Can you see something that he can't? Are you thinking of buying a print?

He wants to approach you. To leave you alone. To watch you scrutinize his painting. To run screaming to the event coordinator.

Casually, he sticks both hands in his jeans and stands a few feet from your right side, as if he's one of the visitors.

He takes a moment, gaining whatever’s left of his composure before speaking.

“I'm so glad I know how to swim.”

You snap out of your daze, surprised to hear English in the Korean white noise you've been immersed in. You look over and see the gorgeous young man standing near you, looking at the painting you've been so engrossed in.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “I totally get the fear of open water.”

Hyunjin chuckles, strangely drawn in by the sound of your voice.

“Although, she doesn't seem all that scared to me,” you add, shifting your focus back to the canvas.

“You don't think so?”

“I mean, you could argue that she doesn't want to be there, that she's drowning,” you begin, pointing to the girl. “But…the longer I stare at it, the more I feel like she's just hanging there, not reaching for the surface on purpose.” Your finger trails down to the bottom right corner. “I think that's why it was named Buoyancy, at least that's what I got out of it…”

You trail off, realizing that you're rambling to a total stranger about a random piece of artwork. Looking back at him however, you find your face heating up at the amazed expression on his, as if you had just told him his middle name.

“I wish I had thought of that,” he lies. It was almost scary how quickly you had found the meaning he'd tried to convey after months of fighting with the paint.

“Well that's the fun thing about art,” you say, smiling to yourself. “It's all subjective. What were you thinking?”

Hyunjin opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again in mild frustration.

“I'm not…very good with English,” he says, defeated.

He would argue that he's not very good with any language, even his mother tongue.

Art was the only language he felt he could speak easily without hesitation. It was easy to throw himself into that with reckless abandon, because it was the only place where he truly felt understood.

“But I can still understand you,” he quickly amends, glad to see that spark behind your eyes again. He walks past you, stopping at the painting on your left. “What about this one?”

“This one has some really dramatic lighting, which makes me believe…”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Evening sunlight filters in through the exhibit windows as you and Hyunjin examine an organically-shaped vase, admiring its handiwork.

“I’ve always wanted to try pottery but…I don’t really like the feeling of cold clay on my hands,” you chuckle, looking at the tall man next to you. He grins, scrutinizing his hands as he contemplates his answer. 

“People tell me I have good fingers- for clay,” he adds quickly, even though the meaning wasn't lost on you, and you fight back a smirk to appear unphased. “But I haven't found a good studio? Is that how you call it?”

“I wouldn't know, I've never been,” you say, walking to the next painting. Which happens to be where you both started.

“Wait, have we been through this whole gallery?” You quickly check your watch, confirming that you have been there for much longer than you had intended. Looking back at the stranger you have spent the evening with, you feel heat start to scatter across your face.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take up so much of your ti-”

“I liked it,” he blurts, and you feel reassured as his face lights up with panic. “Talking. With you, I mean.” He looks just past you to the art on the wall, ears turning the slightest shade of red. “No one has ever said anything so beautiful about my art before.”

He watches as your face circles through several emotions, before settling on embarrassment. 

“You're…you're one of the artists? Which one is yours?” You say, trying to recall what you said about every art piece.

He nods toward the painting that had first caught your attention, the one that practically jumped out at you an hour ago.

“Hyunjin,” he says quietly, extending a hand toward you in a humble introduction, as if that same hand didn't produce the masterpiece in front of you. 

“Y/n,” you whisper, trying not to let your mouth hang open in awe. “And to think I was going to Google you later.”

“You were?” The light in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I always research artists that inspire me,” you admit, bashfully dropping his hand.

“I inspired you?”

You meet his eyes and you know then, the weight that your words carry.

To create is a desire that all artists cannot shake; it is what keeps the painter keep coming back to the blank canvas, the sculptor to the slab of clay. But when the process is finished, all they can hope is that someone will see it, and feel a fraction of what they felt whilst creating it. 

Moving someone to the point of giving them the desire to create, through their artwork, is a dream many artists never get to see come into fruition.

And maybe that's why Hyunjin stares at you now, wondering which lucky star is shining down on him now.

“Can I…” he pauses, hoping he's saying the line like how they do in the movies, “can I buy you a drink?”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

When people say studio apartment, this is what you wish they mean.

Floor-to-ceiling window walls on one side, where several canvases sit propped up against the city skyline, and an apartment on the other, with a cute kitchenette and loft bedroom that doesn't feel cramped. It's perfect for someone who needs enough space to think, without sacrificing their space to live.

You hear Hyunjin click the door shut behind you as you set your bag down on a chair, surveying the studio side of his residence.

Several canvases catch your eye.

You can't even blame him for attempting to paint it because with the view he has, you'd paint it every day. 

Different versions of the Seoul skyline are scattered across the room, each depicting a different time of day. Sunrise is leaning against the window. Midday is sitting on a canvas. Twilight is hanging up on the wall, and something akin to golden hour lays unfinished, perhaps even abandoned on the floor. You crouch in front of it to get a better look.

“That one is…not finished,” Hyunjin says from the kitchen, pouring two glasses of soju. You can feel his nervous gaze on you even with your back turned to him.

“It's beautiful,” you whisper, looking at the palette he used to mix the colors. An array of browns and yellows are smeared on the glass, which were no doubt used to put the buildings into the scene.

He doesn't say thank you; his face does that for him when he crouches next to you, cheekbones pink as he sets the soju glasses on the floor. 

“I can't get the colors right,” he sighs, staring at the painting in discontent. “It looks…dull.”

“Maybe you should try adding red instead of brown,” you suggest, picking up a palette knife. “May I?”

Hyunjin stares at you in bewilderment, before opening a tube of vermillion and squeezing a bit onto the palette. 

“I studied color theory for what felt like forever,” you chuckle, taking the knife and adding red to a few of his previous colors.

“I never went to art school,” he says, as if that makes him a lesser artist. You feel a twinge of jealousy at that statement, knowing that the man next to you was this skilled without coaching, before adding, “You didn't miss much. It killed my creativity.”

Hyunjin goes pale at that as you pass him a clean paintbrush and toss the palette knife aside.

“Did you get it back?” He asks, and when you tilt your head, he adds, “Your creativity?”

“It comes and goes.” Sometimes you wish you didn't stake your livelihood on your ability to create. Inspiration is always a welcome guest but it never stays for long, at least on your side of the ocean.

Watching him add your hues to the painting is like having inspiration fed right into your bloodstream. Immediately the painting comes to life, the reds of the sunset becoming visible at the whim of his paintbrush.

He stops for a minute to admire the changes, and turns to you for feedback, eyes twinkling with joy. Or maybe that's just the soju.

“It was beautiful before,” you say, tracing your finger along the side of the canvas, “but now it looks alive.”

“I love the way you talk,” Hyunjin says quietly after a moment of silence, and the bluntness of the compliment nearly has you choking on your soju. But he just looks at you, no hint of humor in his eyes, sitting entirely too close to your tipsy self, and you feel your body buzz with warmth.

“And I love the way you smile,” you whisper back, unable to look away as he sets down his paintbrush, trying to hide his contagious grin.

He turns back to you, and you wish for several things. You wish you didn't have a plane ticket taking you away from this place in a week. You wish that you had finished your glass of soju. You wish you could poke the mole under his eye, or the dimple in his cheek.

You wish that you were drunk enough to close the gap between you two without a second thought.

But when your foreheads touch, your phone buzzes, so you grin and chuckle to yourself.

“I…I think we've had too much to drink.”

He looks at you through hooded eyes and smiles again.

“Or not enough.” He counters.

You nod in agreement at that and pull back, mentally kicking yourself for losing the only chance at finding out what his smile tastes like. But it's probably better this way. You don't want to be remembered as the girl who sweet talked her way into his bed.

You're halfway to the sink with your glasses when he speaks up suddenly.

“I want to see you again.”

You set the dishes down before turning to face him, and you wish you had brought a change of clothes. And maybe an extra toothbrush.

“I don't want to finish it without you,” he says, nodding to the painting that he had moved to the easel.

“I can come back tomorrow morning,” you promise, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“I can make crepes.”

“I love crepes.”

He picks up your bag from the chair and brings it to you, hating how much it feels like he's rushing you out the door. 

“See you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

You leave the apartment and close the door behind you, but your feet don't advance down the hallway. Hyunjin's hand hovers over the locking mechanism, unable to click the deadbolt into place as he considers running after you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you spin around to knock on his door, only to find him throwing the door open and grinning in delight at the sight of you.

“It's past midnight, isn't it?”

His smile tastes like mint and chamomile tea.

[vauxxy]

KILLER

spiderman!luke castellan x reader

part 1 || part 2

★ "i am sick of the chase but i'm hungry for blood, and theres nothing i can do"

ABOUT - luke castellan is new york's very own 'friendly neighbourhood spider-man'- because of course he fuckin' is. to make matters even better, you're the only one at school who knows. lucky you.

WARNINGS - australian slang yet again (sorry guys, i cant help it. its in my blood!), swearing, first person?? idk i thought it'd be cool. sorry if it sucks. lol. mentions of adderall (she has ADHD) and vaping. reader is a rich girl and the leader of the sassy girl apocolypse.

"are you okay, ma'am?"

"dont call me ma'am, luke."

"okay, what the fuck."

that's how i found out the nerd in my AP chemistry class was spider-boy. i mean, obviously i had caught on to his whole 'superhero thing' like, a week after the news articles started flooding in. it was so obvious.

luke is probably one of the only guys in the world dumb enough to put on a latex suit in order to help old ladies cross the street. sure, he's a good samaritan- and sure, he's saving small businesses from being mugged into bankruptcy and shit; but who cares?

every night, i see him swinging from building to building like a fucking weirdo. it gets old after the first 100 foot drop down from the hilton hotels building. like, we get it. you're spider-man. good for you.

sadly, my cynicism was brought to a halt as soon as he saved me from being brutally robbed on my way home. of course i got mugged on the one day i decided not to wear my doc martens. just my luck.

i used to cut through this sketchy alleyway to get to my bus stop because it took way too long walking around the block- that was my first mistake. DO NOT GO INTO SKETCHY ALLEYWAYS IN NEW YORK. NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS IN AN ALLEYWAY.

my second mistake was deciding against popping my second addy during 5th period, because if i had, then maybe i'd be alert enough to clock what was happening before this druggie had his glock pointed at my head. well, at least it wasn't his dick. praise the lord!

the druggie snuck behind me, before literally grabbing me by the neck and pushing me up against the wall of the dingy alleyway. then, he pulled out a WHOLE ASS GUN from his pocket and held it to my head, using the sleeve of his sweater to cover its form.

my breath hitched as the water bottle inside my backpack pressed against my spine. that was my third mistake. frank green water bottles hurt when they're pushing into your bones.

"you're gonna give me all the money you've got on you, kay?" he asked in a low, raspy voice. he definitely smoked 5 packs a day.

nevertheless, i nodded and reached into the side pocket of my backpack. i pulled out my cute little mimco purse and started taking out all the cash in it. it hurt my soul to get rid of it- that money was supposed to go towards my new vape. bummer.

my hands were shaking as they held the messy assortment of bills, waiting for him to take it from me and just leave me alone.

"good. thanks- dont be tellin' anyone about this, or else i'll find you,' he threatened, slowly pulling the gun away from my head.

"i wont, i swear!"

"you're taller than him, ma'am. why dont you just kick him to the curb?"

i furrowed my brows, my eyes scanning the alleyway for the origins of the voice. the origins of luke's voice.

his nasally tone was so distinct, i could recognise it with my head underwater.

"the fuck?" called out the short, ugly smoker with my money. he whipped his head around furiously, suddenly a lot more alarmed than when he was robbing me. suddenly, the nerdy loser in latex swung down and pushed him onto the cold ground.

spider-boy grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back, before webbing them together in some homemade handcuffs.

"are you fuckin' kidding me?" the guy grumbled, his voice muffled by the gravel pushing against his mouth as spider-dork held his head to the ground.

"nope, not kidding you," he sighed, using his webs to secure the man into his position on the ground. he dug into the mans pockets and pulled out my money.

yep, that was luke castellan all right.

spider-nerd leapt off the constrained druggie and walked over to me, handing me back my assortment of bills. "are you okay, ma'am?" he asked, looking downwards a bit to meet my gaze.

thats exactly how luke looks at me. he's gotta be luke- he HAS to be.

i had been watching luke for weeks. i had been analysing his every movement, every strange look and awkward gesture. i was 99.9% sure that spider-man was luke castellan.

but there was only one way to find out.

"dont call me ma'am, luke."

luke choked on air, taking a step forwards as he clumsily held onto the wall in shock. "okay, what the fuck?"

i laughed dryly, my eyes narrowed as i stared at him. the whole ‘spider-man’ thing really did suit him.

"you know?" he stuttered out. i nodded, before pointing over at the guy still squirming under his webs. "maybe you should get rid of him," i said calmly, crossing my arms over my chest after stuffing my money into the pocket of my jeans.

"oh. yeah, right."

before i knew it, luke had quite literally kicked the guy in the head to knock him out.

"are you allowed to do that?" i asked, my eyes wide in shock.

"nah, not really," luke shrugged, before looking down at his watch and pressing a few buttons.

"i thought you were supposed to be a friendly neighbourhood spider-boy," i retorted. luke scoffed, looking back up at me with what i could only assume to be a sly grin from under his mask. "its spider-man,” he corrected.

“and criminals who mess with pretty girls deserve to be curb stomped."

okay. yeah. he had a fair point. i am rather pretty.

then, out of nowhere, luke grabbed me by the waist and aimed his wrist towards the sky. before i knew it, he was swinging us towards the sky like a fucking lunatic.

“luke! what the fuck?!” i screamed, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to his body for dear life.

“what’s your addy?” he asked, his toned arm keeping me in place as it pressed against the small of my back.

‘what’s your addy?’ seriously? what a fuckin’ loser. i would’ve made fun of him for using snapchat lingo if it weren’t for how strong his arms were. jesus christ, they were so big and toned… no wonder he skips gym class every lesson; he doesn’t want to show off. what a humble king.

“uhh- greenhead avenue!” i cried out, digging my head into the nook of his neck. gods, he smelt good.

luke nodded, holding me tighter as he swung us through the air. “rodger that.”

“thanks for like… saving me, or whatever,”

i stood inside my bedroom, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as i clung onto the window frame. luke took off his mask as he stood on the balcony, leaning against the railing. he shot me a meek smile, tilting his head to the side as a way to play down his cocky demeanour.

he’s never gonna let me live this down.

“don’t worry about it.”

he paused, letting his smile drop. “just- promise you won’t tell anyone?” luke asked, his voice low as he leaned forward.

of course i wasn’t going to tell anyone- i’m not a total cunt. i have morals… sometimes.

“i promise, luke.”

he smiled, pulling his mask back over his head before taking a step back. “great. see you on monday,” he called out, jumping off the railing and swinging away from my apartment building.

as soon as he left, i face planted against my bed.

luke castellan was spider-man. i fucking knew it.

that was fine. i knew that.

but what really got me was how hot it was when he held me by the waist, how good he smelt, how raspy his voice was- WHAT THE FUCK.

no. what the fuck. are you kidding me. god no. no no no no no no no. i’m going to jump off the balcony. this is it.

of course. just my luck.

that day i confirmed my suspicions of luke being spider-man.

i also realised why i cared about it much.

fuck my life.

[wrenreid]

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

[gemini-sensei]

Shy!Eli Moskowitz x Goth!Stoner!Reader

Request: Could you do shy! Eli dating a Goth girl who smokes weed headcanons please

🍃 It started off as Eli watching Reader from afar. He was too shy to approach and say anything. He thought he was being discreet but Reader knew. She saw the way he looked at her, so she decided to ask him what his deal was. She was joking but Eli thought he'd done something wrong and started apologizing.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stare... it's just that... y-you're so pretty..."

🍃 Reader smiled and assured him that he wasn't in trouble or anything like that. She actually thought he was pretty cute and his stammering admission only furthered that thought. She asked him to hangout some time and he didn't want to be rude by saying no, so he said yes.

🍃 They ended up going to a park and walking around for a while until she pulled him into the woods to smoke a joint. At first he refused it when she offered but when she told him it would help him stop worrying so much, he thought it wasn't such a bad idea. Two puffs in and he's high as a kite.

🍃 They ran around the playground like little kids and had fun being high. They spun themselves silly on the swings and fell onto the grass with stupid little grins on their faces. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time. They made fond memories that she'd go on to say was their first date.

🍃 Like him, Reader is an outcast but by choice. She's goth and perfectly fine expressing herself but other students - like the popular kids - don't care for it. They try to bully her for it but she's content with where she's at in life that it doesn't bother her. Or she's too high to give a fuck.

🍃 When she and Eli start dating, her friends come sit with them at lunch. It's unintentional, but they act as a shield to Eli and Demetri. The bullies learned a long time ago that Reader and her friends can't be bothered by their comments, so they scoff and walk away when they see them hanging out with the two nerds.

Reader sees them walking up to the table where Eli and Demetri are sitting and she walks over with her tray, sits down, and he friends follow. She smiles at Eli and takes his hand into hers under the table. Then she turns to see Kyker and his friends at a standstill, not sure what to do, and she flashes a fake smile and waves her fingers at him, being a bitch to them since they wanna act like bitches.

🍃 He didn't think hed ever like getting high, but he loves sitting in her car together and smoking with her. They sit in an empty lot and hot box the car, only to end up making out heavily over the middle console.

🍃 He starts to adopt her beliefs about his bullies, how unimportant they are and how what they say doesn't matter. She definitely brings out a side of him he didn't know he had. Regardless of that though, he's still shy and quiet Eli. He just doesn't let the bullies bother him so much anymore.

🍃 Black lipstick smooches all over his neck. When it's smeared on his lips or around his mouth, Demetri is always at a loss for words. Eli never knows what to say if he's caught with the lipstick on him. He gets so flustered and stammers even more than usual.

🍃 Late night dates, long drives, and open-late diners are all perfect dates for these two.

🍃 Him worrying about his mom finding out he's smoking weed with his girlfriend, but she's too happy he has a girlfriend to notice his red eyes when he comes home after his dates with Reader.

🍃 People think she's too goth and spooky for him but obviously they just don't understand the couple. Reader gives zero fuck about their peers. She only cares about Eli and is more than happy to show that in any way she can.

🍃 Did I mention high sex? Yeah, these two end up there a lot when they're high, more often than not.

If there's any interest in making this a full fic, lmk and I'll see what I can do.

[multifandommilfs]

The Jürgen Theory

Pairing: Olivia Benson x reader

Wc: 840

Fluff!

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At first, it was a drop of water on the car's windshield as you and Olivia advanced towards the suspect's address that was currently pinging on the GPS to swerve away from high-traffic areas.

 

In the passenger seat, you craned your neck so you could gauge the incoming weather. "I hope you're not getting your hopes up expecting rain in mid-July." Olivia said from the driver's seat nonchalantly.

 

You cast her a side eye, flopping back into your seat. "To live without hope is to cease to live. Stop being such a party popper Liv, it's been in the 80s°F since last week. A girl should hope for some rain before we all faint from heatstroke."

 

Olivia sputtered out a laugh. "Did you just quote me on Jürgen Moltmann? I can't believe I've been working with a nerd all this while."

 

Her verbal blow made you smack her on the arm as you made a face of faux offence. "You're calling me the nerd? I'm not the one who knew the quote was Yurgen's or whomever you said it was."

 

However, she knew from your perfect pronunciation of the theologian's name that you had begun to rage a banter. "Says you, I bet you even looked up the pronunciation. Any normal person would've said Yargen instead of Yurgen." She clocked on the blinkers, maneuvering the car into a neighbourhood as a few drops of rain splattered against the windshield.

 

"And the fact that you have that information makes you more of a nerd than I am." Your laugh barked out, luring hers out as well. "Touché." And the both of you were trying your best to contain the unending waves of laughter pouring out of your throats, knowing the debate was over at your catch.

 

Your eyes trailed out the window when the car pulled up at the sidewalk closest to the building, skimming for your suspect in case he wanted to get a headstart while Olivia double-checked the GPS for the right address. "You ready?" Her tone turned grave and you nodded, sliding out of the vehicle in tandem with her.

 

The rain was more compact now, hitting your face every few seconds and making you hope you'd have luck by your side to stay relatively dry until you got back to the unit.

 

It took a while to reach his apartment, but when you did, your suspect's fight-or-flight instincts took over as soon as you flashed your badge. He leapt out from the fire escape, forcing you to follow this trail as Olivia rounded the apartment building.

 

She skidded around the corner into the alleyway, just in time to witness your tumbling down the suspended ladder after the suspect, simultaneously dragging him down onto the rough concrete ground with your body weight.

 

It seemed to take a whole thousand raindrops bursting against your skin and soaking your clothes as you cuffed the innocent-screaming suspect before handing the guy over to Olivia who shoved him into the backseat by the top of his head.

 

"80s°F and raining; it looks like Jürgen is the winner here." You sent her a smug smile despite the shiver that crawled up your spine. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She rolled her eyes in defeat, not trusting her teeth to not chatter and subsequently further your teasing.

 

She caught your winner's grin as she reared the car to life and you switched off the AC when you saw her fingers tremble as they gripped the steering, taking no consideration into the suspect more than pissed off objection.

 

Then it was all easy-going back to the unit when you and Olivia were sent back home due to a good job, late hours, and wet hair.

 

You two clocked out without a complaint, knowing Fin could finish off the interrogation better than two shivering wet detectives, one drier than the other but still on the same level of 'drenched to the core'.

 

It wasn't until you winded down for bed that you realised the trouble you both were in. "Don't tell me it is what I think it is." You slapped your hands on your face in bed when you sneezed for the third time that night, your back aching from the previous fall. It made you regret all the choices you made that morning.

 

"Looks like Jürgen doesn't have your back." Olivia laughed before succumbing to a fit of coughs, leaving you wheezing at her sickness's timely attack and puns.

 

"Yeah I'll bet he doesn't have yours either." You made an aggressive inhale, shifting up your pillow for a better angle of breath.

 

"And don't you even think about going to work tomorrow. I'm taking care of you." You continued, voice going snotty.

 

"Haven't you heard of survival of the fittest? We'll see who takes care of who tomorrow." Her flaunt made you smile wordlessly because despite her tough exterior, you already knew you'd be the one taking care of her tomorrow. She only proved you right when she let out another round of wet coughs.