#kind of surprised thats the only sound other than cars

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

me: "what else is different here than on mobile....and different from the other times ive been on desktop.........somethings different......"

i got an ad blocker on firefox. thats whats different lol

no ads

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hi! What is Rabid bits of time WIP about?

Thats kind of a dark one sjsjsj its for bad things happen bingo sole survivor, where Buck vanishes in the days after the tsunami and takes place a few years later when Athena takes a wellness check call and finds the person a few days dead in their basement from a trip and fall head injury, next to a chained up, severely injured and emaciated Buck... Will be Eddie (and maaaybe Athena pov), lots of flashbacks of like pre disappearance Eddie and Buck working towards something romantic but Eddie not being ready for it and Buck saying he'll wait, buck's disappearance setting off Eddie's season 5 breakdown early, Eddie dating guys but still grieving Buck, and then everyone dealing with Buck suddenly being back and in really rough shape. Bobby is not doing great! He's not been doing great for several years!

Here's some drawings of the second time Chris sees Buck when he comes back (the first time didn't go great because like... Everyone else looks more or less the same but a kid grows up a lot in 2 years so it hits Buck for the first time how long he was stuck down there)

And here's a little snippet

It’s a Thursday, sunny. Weather has been unpredictable this winter but it’s been nice out for a few days now, seems like it’ll hold til the weekend. Shift ended at noon but went over a little, had to deal with a pileup in midtown, so it’s almost one o’clock as Eddie heads out to his truck. Still, he has a few hours before he has to get Chris, school not out until 2:30 and then another hour for science club. They need groceries, and the laundry is starting to pile up, but a nap is maybe too tempting to resist. It had been a long night, lots of calls. The turn in the weather, maybe, more people out and about to get into trouble. He’s making a list in his head of what they need from the store so he can make a quick trip after the nap, before or after he gets Chris depending on how long he sleeps, and is about halfway to his parking spot when a cop car tears into the lot. He didn’t catch the number on it but he supposes he’s not surprised when Athena appears moments later, walking towards him with tension coiled into her every muscle.  “The others still inside?” She calls, barely looking at him long enough to see his nod, not slowing down as she walks towards the station. Her face is grim, jaw set tight, and Eddie thinks it’s entirely unnecessary when she says “Come on, you need to hear this, too.” There’s only one thing this could be about, as impossible as it may be. Eddie follows her inside feeling kind of muffled, like there’s a layer of cotton between him and the rest of the world. Hazy, as Hen comes out of the locker with a frown on her face, as Chimney freezes halfway down the stairs. Athena’s shout for Bobby sounds half as loud as it probably is. Bobby comes out of his office immediately, looking less calm and collected every step closer. They all end up in a little huddle in the middle of the room, other firefighters giving them both a wide berth and curious stares. Hen’s elbow digs into his left arm, Athena is close enough to his right to feel her body warmth. Bobby, wearing that kind of see through look he gets sometimes, scans his wife’s face. “What’s going on?” “We-“ Athena seems choked for words, suddenly, and that more than anything makes this feel real. For her to be scared. Dread bubbles up in the hole in Eddie’s chest that he thought he’d mostly patched up these days. “Bobby. We found him. We found Buck.” Eddie takes a step back, involuntarily. Hen grabs onto his arm, so tight her nails dig in. Chimney makes a strangled sort of noise, hand hovering over his pocket like he wants to go for his phone. Does Maddie know? Eddie is sure he’s thinking it, they’re all thinking it. Who told her? It should be one of them. It shouldn’t be a stranger, not after this long. It should be-  “How?” Bobby asks, the crack in his voice turning it from how did you find him to something more like what condition is the body in? What do we have left to bury?  Because, well, none of them have any delusions about it. Not after this much time. Two years and nearly three months ago Evan Buckley vanished, and not a single trace had ever been found of him. The only thing waiting for them at the end of this is a body.  Except Athena stands there, in the warm air of a pleasant afternoon, and says “We found him alive.”

[musicoftheheart]

oh my gosh okay so I wanna ask about all ur wips honestly but that kind of defeats the purpose soooooooo

4,7,8,14

4 because it sounds really ominous, 7 because the title makes me think someone (probably james) freaks out every time someone else (probably regulus) speaks french and a third person (probably sirius) thinks hes having an allergic reaction, 8 because this sounds like a sequel to hold me tight (and never let me go)??? and I have been loving that fic so far and cant wait for you to finish it (but no pressure, take ur time of course), and 14 because thats funny as shit

also, I remember you saying a while ago you might write a snooker au? is that happening? (again no pressure, I just wondered if u forgot to list it since you mentioned having brain fog recently (which is a cool name for it btw and I will be using it in future))

hi!! thanks for asking! <33

so ive covered a couple of these in another ask, so ill only sum them up here (you still get rambled at though dw <3)

4. dont walk too close

so! as i said in another ask, this is a fic following sirius (and regulus, later) starting hogwarts as walburga’s obedient heir, only to end up in gryffindor and learning that life isnt quite the way he’d been taught. his revelations and his sorting end up causing tension at home in the yule holidays, and a series of events end up with regulus in gryffindor too. im sure we can all imagine how that one goes. i posted a snippet in the other ask here

7. french epi fic

HA okay i love your guess, but— well, actually, youre closer to the truth than you might’ve thought. sort of.

regulus has just escaped his parents’ clutches and moves across from france to the one place he hoped he might be welcome: sirius’ home in england. its set in yorkshire, because thats where i grew up before i had to move away, and i miss it :( regulus’ english is poor as it is, but meeting sirius’ ridiculously attractive housemate, james potter, muddles his brain enough where the few basic greetings he knew were gone

james has epilepsy (thats where the ‘epi’ in the title comes from), remus gets them all free donuts, and sirius refuses to flirt on behalf of either james or regulus with the other. its chaos, its fun, and im enjoying it so far despite only being a few thousand words in. here’s a snippet:

Regulus slowly set his eyes back on the house. “It’s so big.”

Seeming to finally catch up on Regulus’ surprise, Sirius explained, “Effie and Monty helped us get on our feet, but with what Alphard left…”

”Mon dieu,” he breathed. But this time, it wasn’t at the house. It was at the man stepping out of it.

Stood at the front door, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun that had emerged from behind the rain clouds, was the most beautiful man Regulus had ever laid his gaze upon. His dark brown hair was tussled in a mess of curls on his head, but almost like it was purposefully messy rather than just uncontrollable. Round golden glasses sat upon his bronze skin, framing his chocolatey eyes perfectly, and a wide grin pulled at his mouth and revealed a little dimple on his left cheek.

When Regulus was eventually able to tear his eyes from the man’s face, his breath caught again at the sight of the rest of him. He clearly worked out, if the muscles making his t-shit stretch were anything to go by, but he wasn’t tall — perhaps only a couple of inches larger than Regulus himself, and he reached only a measly 5’7. Something shining in the sun caught Regulus’ eye, and he saw a thin metal bracelet on one of the man’s wrists.

”Hey, James!” Sirius called, climbing out of the car and snapping Regulus out of his trance. He’d made it to the boot to pull Regulus’ suitcase out before Regulus had even managed to open the passenger door.

”Padfoot!” James called with just as much enthusiasm — that was, far too much considering they lived together and had presumably seen each other just a few hours ago before Sirius had left to pick Regulus up. “And mini Pads!” he added, spotting Regulus finally getting out of the car.

Regulus shot him a swift glare for that nickname. He may be cute, but looks could only get him so far.

8. the warmth of your arms rivals the sun (its burning out)

this is another ive covered in another ask but i love it so im still gonna talk about it. youre exactly right, by the way — it is a hmt sequel! i guess the naming conventions were similar enough ahaha. its very james-centric with background storylines, and focuses on much heavier themes than those in hmt. i wont go into what they are, but anyone who was around during chapter… four? five? i dont remember, but it was early on. i added some tags, then took them away once i decided id split it into two parts. if anyone remembers those tags, that’s what twoya will cover :))

14. sirius is actually helpful for once wtf

this is planned to be a shorter fic, but still multi chapter. its pretty much just sirius shipping jegulus and doing everything he can to get his two favourite people together :) not written yet, but ive got a fair bit planned so far

bonus: snooker au

okay so, i would love to say i’ve worked on this some more since then but… i haven’t :( i really want to, but i want to do it well, which i know will take a lot of time. but, the details i have so far:

its the snooker world championships. regulus black’s first, but james potter’s third. sirius black — former world champion — is the estranged brother of the newbie regulus black, and the mentor and best friend of james potter, who was second place two years ago, but couldnt compete last year due to an unrelated injury, though healed up now. james, of course, is head over heels for regulus. regulus, of course, pretends hes not pining madly for the boy who stole his brother. sirius, of course, pretends hes not offended or hurt that regulus wont even try to fix their relationship. he also just happens to be stealing glances at remus lupin, who came fourth last year and seemed rather close to regulus. theyre all hopeless, and determined to win.

thanks for your ask! <33

[forevermore-quoth-the-kitten]

For the first time in my life, I'm glad I had an empty tank of gas.

Long story short, my grandma's car is broken, she needs a new one, so until she gets one she and I are sharing the car my mom got me when I got my license. Yesterday she had it and had taken it pretty far to do something for my mom. Well today it was empty and I was going to the library. As always, with these gas prices, I was a bit annoyed, but after I got gas I had to stop and call her to thank her for not fillng it up. On the corner next to the gas station I stopped at was an older gentleman who had a thick accent and didn't speak English well, but he had a sign and a red gas tank thing. He didn't have enough money to get him home to Phoenix from work and was asking for some help. I had no idea how long he was standing there, but thats about an 1 to 2 hour drive from where I live. So I got my gas and then called him over. It wasn't a big thing for gas but I filled it up with about 20 bucks and he was very kind the whole time about it. He seemed a bit surprised at first that I was doing that for him, which I'm not too surprised by, I'm only 19, but was so thankful and kind about what I was willing to do for him. (That made it clear to me he'd been standing in the slightly breezy 50 or so degree weather for a while.)

If my grandma had put gas in the tank like she admitted to almost doing, I never would have seen him. So yeah, I'm a college student and I don't always have a whole lot of extra to spend, my grandma's and I tend to be pretty good about making sure we don't leave the other person with an empty tank, but I still wish I could have given him a bit more. Sometimes I feel depressed and sad at how awful the is, how bad things are sometimes, and I've gotten grief my whole life for having a bleeding heart. My dad has been worried for me my whole life because I see the good in everyone. But I'm glad that I have the big heart I do, it means that I can do things like that just because. For no other reason than it helps me remember that there are good people out there. And I don't say that in the context of myself buying this man gas, I say it because this man was so sweet and grateful for whatever he could get. We both knew it wasn't enough gas to get him home, but it was something and I feel amazing, sven if im still upset, that I could do even that little bit for him.

So yes, I'm glad I have an empty tank, and I hope I have more in the future like that. There were so many factors that could have meant I didn't see him, but I did. So for however weird it sounds, I hope I'm not the only one with an empty tank this season.

[jade-04]

Dove (Part 3)

first part | part 2 | part 4

Summary: Dustin Henderson’s older sister finds herself in a predicament having to choose between Steve “the Hair” Harrington and Eddie “the Freak” Munson

a/n: Hi! It took me a bit to write this part because of how busy I've been getting ready for school, so I'm not 100% on how I feel about this part, so yea.

taglist: @happiejoon

Warnings: mainly just swearing, thats about it. (I think...)

-----------

As you hopped into your car, you noticed that it was a little past 8:00 meaning Steve and Robin should still be having movie night for another hour. Tonight, it was at Steve’s house, so you put your keys into the ignition and made your way over there. The drive wasn’t too long, it had been about 10 minutes and you were already pulling in to Steve’s driveway and luckily enough, Robin’s bike was still sitting outside. You turned the car off and headed up to the door to be let it in. You rang the doorbell a few times before it opened.

“(Y/N)! You’re here! Steve! She’s here!” Robin said ecstatically wrapping you in a hug. “And you’re just in time,” She said releasing you. “ Steve was starting to get all mopey about his love life.” 

“Well if she’s here, Robin, why don’t you let her in?” Steve chimed in from the living room.

“Sorry sorry sorry.” Robin said shaking her head a little and opening the door. “Come on in!”

The living room wasnt too far from the front door, so you could hear Ghostbusters blaring right as you walked in. Steve was chilling in the arm chair almost mesmerized by the movie when you walked in. 

“(Y/N), so glad you could make it.” He sounded irritated and you could understand why. You did bail on him and Robin for movie night, but you still showed up. Yes, about an hour into the movie, but you were still there. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you whined “You cant be mad at me forever.” Knowing him, he could probably hold a grudge for a whie, but you, Robin, and the kids were his exceptions. 

“Yea, but I can try.” He grunted out, he was pissed, but you couldnt really figure out why.

“Well,” Robin clapped her hands, interrupting. “I’m gonna pause the movie so we can listen to (Y/N) about her auditions because that would be so much more interesting to me than hearing you drone on about your hopeless love life, Steve.” She shot daggers at him with her eyes.

Another thing Robin knew about Steve that you didnt, he only dated around so much because he was trying to get over you. Yes, you never dated, but Steve couldnt stand the fact that he couldnt get over his crush on you, so he hoped that if he dated enough people it would eventually fade. It never did. Robin would always try to convince him to ask you out on a date, but he was always to scared to even approach the topic of dating with you. He didnt feel good enough for you, you had a set goal and he couldnt even get into a college. So he just tried to ignore his feelings, but he really couldnt. 

“First of all, I doubt Harrington’s love life is that hopeless. He’s got a new girl every week!” You chuckled to yourself a little, knowing this would get on his nerves.

‘Yea, but not the right one.’ Steve thought to himself glancing over at you. He could never get over that smile.

“Second, the audition went amazing! I’m the new lead singer and you’ll never guess who I saw.” You acted like you saw Tom Cruize or something just so you could grasp the attention of your friends. Robin looked like she was on the edge of her seat and Steve. Steve just kind of looked at you with interest, but he didnt necessarily seem excited. 

“Tom Cruize? Did you see Tom Cruize!” Robin yelled. What was her obsession with Tom Cruize? 

“No, Eddie fucking Munson. He’s like the lead guitarist and the other lead singer. I was quite surprised.” 

“What? No way. No way youre gonna be in a band with Eddie “the freak” Munson.” Steve said sitting up straighter. He didnt necessarily like the idea of you spending more time with another guy that wasnt your brother, but he knew he had no control over that. Still, it made him feel a little insecure. “He’s a bad influence, (Y/N). Also he’s just kind of.. I dont know… weird?” He scrunched his face up a bit. 

“Steve” You looked at him annoyed “It’s not like I’m becoming a drug dealer or joinign a cult. I’m literally just singing in a band. If you’re worried about losing your precious (Y/N) time, my practices and performances dont interfere with movie night.” You leaned back crossing your arms.

“It’s not that, its just -  its just-” Steve stuttered before being interrupted.

“What Stevey here is trying to say is he’s proud of you and we’ll be at every performance just to cheer you on.” Robin said smiling trying to cover for him. 

“Yes! Yes that is exactly what I’m saying.” He ran a hair through his hair. “Now can we please get back to the movie?” 

“You guys can, but I promised Dustin I’d pick him up from the Wheeler’s tonight by 9:00 and its already 8:45. I would love to stay, truly!” You were rambling. You felt bad for only staying for 30 minutes, but you really needed to get home and you knew mom would kill you for not getting your brother home at a decent time. “Like I said, lunch tomorrow and double-feature next friday!” You still kept going as you walked out of the house.  

-------

You pulled up outside the Wheeler household a little bit past 9:00. Dustin was already waiting outside looking a little pissed off. He grabbed his bag and walked begrudgingly to your car. 

“Hey, Dusty. Sorry, I’m late.” You offered up a smile. You weren't that late, it was maybe 9:05.

“Yea, yea. How did it go?” Dustin said hopping into the car. 

“It was good, I’m the new lead singer of your favorite person’s band.” You teased him a little knowing how much he idolized Eddie.

“Wait!” He said turning to you excitedly “You’re the lead singer in Eddie’s band! Oh my god! That's fucking awesome!” 

“Language, Dusty.” You smiled to yourself while scolding him “And yes, I’m the lead singer in Eddie’s band, but you can’t tell mom. She’d kill me if she knew I was in a band.” 

“You’re secret is safe with me (Y/N).” He made a motion like he was zipping his lips. “I still dont understand why you feel the need to sneak around mom though. You’re an adult now.” 

“I may be an adult, but I have a shit gpa and no academic plans for after I graduate, so to say the least if she found out, she would be pretty pissed.” You said putting an extra emphasis on the syllables in the word “pretty” to really show how mad your mother would be.

Your mom was always super supportive, as long as you had good grades and had a plan. You had neither of those, while your brother had both. Therefore, if Dustin wanted to hangout at the Wheeler’s house until 9:00 pm on a school night or stay out late with Hellfire Club he could. You did not have this same luxury which is why you would sneak around, coming up with excuses just so that you could live the life that you wanted. 

“(Y/N), just talk to her about it. She most likely won't care.” Dustin said. You could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Dustin, I can assure you that she would care. I will literally be performing in dive bars weekly and staying out late on school nights. I just…I just need you to cover for me until I can at least get my way up to a B average and convince her I have an actual plan. Okay?” You didn't look at him, but you were pleading. This was so important to you and you weren't willing to give it up.

It was silent in the car for a bit before Dustin responded. “Okay okay fine, but you owe me. Also, I want to come to performances.” 

“NO! No no no. My performances are at bars, Dustin! Bars! I understand you’ve fought to save the world like three times, but this is a no.” You scolded him as you pulled into the driveway in front of your house. “I’m already taking a risk sneaking around behind mom's back, but sneaking you around with me? That’s an even bigger risk.” You turned the car off and pulled the key out of the ignition. 

“Fine, if youre not gonna let me come to the shows, then I’m just gonna tell mom.” He said reaching for the door handle.

“NO!” You reached over him, grabbing his arm. “Fine, you can come to my performances, but I cant be your ride. Ill have to be there early and youre not sitting at a bar for 4 hours.” You sighed with your head in your palms. 

“Then how am I supposed to get there?” 

“Ask Steve, he would gladly take you.” You said opening your door. “Now, this conversation is over until the morning when I am not absolutely worn out from working and auditions and arguing with my little brother.” You shot him a frustrated glance.

“Fine, Ill drop it, but were picking this up tomorrow.” Dustin said following you up to the house.

------

You’d barely even opened the door and your mom was already there waiting for both you and your brother. 

“Kids, its 9:30, you said you would be home by 9:00.” Your mom said angrily. She was in the typical ‘mom stance’, hands on her hip and tapping her foot. “If you were gonna be late, you should’ve called.I was worried about you.” She shot disappointed yet worrried glances at both of you.

“Sorry, mom. It’s my fault, movie night with Steve and Robin ran a little late and Robin needed a ride home.” You came quick with a lie to try and make sure that your mom knew the blame was completely on you. “ I know I should’ve called, but I was in such a rush to pick up Dusty from the Wheelers,” you wrapped your arms around your brother “that I just didnt think to call. Im sorry.” You offered up a smile.

“Its not completely (Y/N)’s fault, mom. I also took a while to leave the Wheeler’s. You know how into our games we get.” He also offered up a smile. Both of you knew your mom couldn't be mad at both of you especially with those cute smiles on your faces. 

“Aww, okay! I can't stay mad at you guys.” Your mom said, squeezing the two of you into a hug. “Now go get cleaned up and head to bed. I know you have an early shift tomorrow (Y/N).”

“Yea, I’m gonna shower, but probably eat something. Steve and Robin forgot to get food tonight, so I’m a bit hungry. After that, I’ll head to bed, okay?” You smiled at your mom. 

“Okay, but Dusty, you should head to bed soon.” She patted your brother's back with a warming smile. “I, myself, am going to head to bed. I love you kids.” Your mother said, planting a kiss on your and your brother's cheeks.

“Goodnight, mom. Love you.” The two of you said in unison watching her walk to her room. 

“I’m gonna turn in too.” Dustin said dropping his bag and coat by the front door. “Goodnight, (Y/N).” 

“Night, Dusty.” 

You had been home about 45 minutes. You already showered and put on your pajamas and now you were searching for something to watch on the t.v. while your food was heating up in the microwave. Your mom had made spaghetti tonight and she made sure to have a serving for you leftover just in case you were hungry. You appreciated this so much, especially on nights when you would get home late and nothing was open. 

Beep beep beep

You were startled by the noise of the microwave. You got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen to grab your food, but first stopping to grab a fork. You took your food out of the microwave and lifted yourself onto the counter. You began to stuff your face with the leftover spaghetti. You loved your moms cooking, she always knew how to make everything taste amazing. The, the phone started ringing. 

‘Who the hell woul be calling this late at night?’ You thought to yourself making your way over to the phone and taking it off the hook. 

“Henderson residence. May I ask who’s calling at these hours of the night?” You asked the mystery caller a little annoyed. You didnt really care, but seriously, nobody calls your house this late, not even Robin. 

“Hello to you too, Lady Henderson.” Said the voice on the other line.

“Eddie, its like 10:30. Why are you calling this house? Also how did you get this number?” You were getting a little interogative, but it was late and you were a little annoyed.

“Well, sweetheart, I know your younger brother, so that’s how I got this number and I’m calling to talk to you.” You could just about hear the smirk he had on his face.

“Okay, Eddie, make it quick. I have an early shift at the record store in the morning, we’ve got a shipment coming in.” Really you just wanted the phone call to end in case your mom decided to wake up and interrogate you on who was calling at this time of night. You knew if she found out who and for whatever reason why, she would be absolutely pissed.

“Okay, okay. I need you to meet me after your shift tomorrow.” You furrowed your brow at this and it was almost as if he could either read your mind or see your face because he was quick to follow up on his request. “I want to practice a duet I want to do with you a bit outside of practice because I know the boys would be rushing through it.”

“Okay Eddie, but one small problem, I wont have the car tomorrow. My mom’s car got put in the shop today and Saturdays are her shopping and running errands days. She’s gonna need the cr.” You turned around to lean your back on the wall next to the receiver. 

“Ill pick you up from work. What time do you get off?” He was desperate to get alone time with you outside of band rehearsals and was trying his best to mask that by keeping his voice cool. It wasn’t a lie that he wanted to practice a song with you, but he also needed an excuse to just spend time with you and possibly even try to get a date with you. 

“Im out at 2:00. I’ll want to change out of my work uniform though, so itll be closer to 2:15. Got it?” You sighed exhaustedly. Honestly, you didnt care that he wanted to practice, it’s just the fact that he called at this time of night and you were tired. 

“Alright, Henderson. It’s a date.” You could hear him chuckle a little on the other end of the line.

“Not a date, Munson. Goodnight.” You said hanging up the phone, though, for some reason there was a small smile forming on your face. 

After the phone call, you started cleaning up the dishes you used to reheat the dinner your mom made for you. While you were washing the plate you couldnt help but let your mind wander. You wondered why Eddie called your rehearsal a date. Is that what it was? A date? You didnt hate the idea of going on a date with him, but dates just werent really on the table for you right now. Still, if it was just one date, it never had to be anything more. Why were you even thinking about this? It was just Eddie, you’ve never felt anything towards him, so why are you thinking into this rehearsal so much. 

‘God, pull yourself together (Y/N)’ You thought.

You rubbed your eyes with your palms and made your way to your room. You were exhausted to the point that you just about fell asleep as soon as you plopped down on your bed. You pulled your comforter up over you and started to slowly drift to sleep. 

[reidsnose]

hair tie

overview: spencer and the reader start carpooling to work together

genre: fluff!!

a/n: i really dont know if this one is any good i just thought the idea was cute but let me know what yall think :)

masterlist

-

-

spencer was startled by the sudden knock, guests were rare in his little apartment, let alone this early in the morning. a bit paranoid he put his hand over the gun attached to his hip, just in case.

what surprised him even more than the unexpected knock was seeing you through the peep hole when he got to the door.

"y/n? are you ok?" he worried, scanning you up and down quickly to make sure you weren't hurt.

"no um i'm ok," you nervously chewed on your lip, "i was going to call you but i don't have your cell yet. oh my gosh this is going to sound so weird."

you were relatively new to the BAU and they were all very welcoming. the only person who seemed a little bit more closed off was Spencer.

it was true, he was avoiding you a little bit, but only because you were the most beautiful human being he had ever seen; which only made you that much more intimidating. he was afraid. what if he said something stupid? what if the second he opened his mouth you started thinking he was just his IQ. but you were fully a part of the team now. he would have to at least be aquatinted with you.

"its ok, you can say it." he encouraged kindly, causing you to visibly relax.

"ok. oh before i ask i want to preface this by saying you could totally say no i completely understand its a super weird thing especially because we barely know each other." you took a breath as he nodded, a slightly amused smile toyed with his lips.

"i understand the implications. proceed." he mentally slapped himself for wording his thoughts like that.

"do you maybe.. wanna drive to work together? i heard you talking about how you take the train and i also heard that you have an aversion to germs and i drive by your apartment to get to work anyway so i-" you cut yourself off, looking up and seeing him staring at you wide eyed. "i'm sorry this is too weird i over stepped my boundaries and now you dislike me even more. i'm sorry for interrupting your morning. um, you're going to be late for work if i don't leave you alone so ill just- sorry. i'm sorry."

truthfully, this was one of the kindest things anyone has ever offered to do for him. and you offered it with genuine kindness, no ulterior motives to try and get something from him. he stood stunned. how were you so beautiful AND kind. and still somehow a little intimidating.

"we're gonna be late" he called out.

"what?" you turned, having already walked a couple steps from his apartment, your heart beating a bit faster at the sound of his voice.

"you said i'm going to be late. but were carpooling. so we'll both be late," he said matter-a-factly, grabbing his coat and satchel.

"YES!" you laughed, a cracking a wide smile and punching the air triumphantly.

you leaned against the railing of the stairs as you watched him lock up. he was tall and slender and very handsome. so handsome. not handsome like morgan, handsome in a way you were sure you'd never seen before. an incredibly unique and scarce handsomeness that only Spencer Reid had. you tried to forget those thoughts as he began walking towards you.

"i don't dislike you, by the way." he blurted as the two of you walked down the stairs. he felt bad that he made you think he isn't fond of you; the problem was he was too fond of you.

"oh! thats good i've been trying to think of every interaction we've ever had because i was afraid i might have said or done something."

"truth be told," he huffed out a breath, "i was kind of intimidated by you."

you laughed a real, genuine laugh from deep in your belly as you reached your car. the sheer coincidence of the situation as well as your entirely non intimidating nature was seriously laughable.

"you cant be serious! did Garcia tell you?" you asked, completely dumbfounded.

"tell me what?" he asked back, confusion lacing his voice.

"that i was intimidated by you!" you confessed.

"what? this guy in Texas called me a pipe cleaner with eyes! how could i have possibly intimidated you?"

he looked around your car trying to subtly profile you. thats when he noticed you had put hand sanitizer in the passenger side door. and you had pushed the seat back to accommodate for his long legs. it was just two little things, two ways you put a little extra effort in to make him feel welcome, but he was 100% positive if he thought about it too much he would cry. he felt the need to do something like this for you. not to get even or anything, but simply because he wanted to make you feel the way he felt right now.

"i don't know! you're so tall and smart and you seemed quiet but i guess thats only because you were avoiding me. are you sure garcia didnt tell you?" you laughed, watching the road.

now it was his turn to laugh, "no i swear, Garcia didn't say anything about that to me!"

The two of you continued driving, either talking or sitting in a comfortable silence. and this little carpool became a tradition. the two of you arriving and leaving work together every single day, causing the two of you to become closer.

you had to admit, every morning and evening you spent with Spencer made him just seem more and more perfect. unbeknownst to you, the exact same thing was happening with him.

he noticed, one day, as you were pulling your hair up to tie in a ponytail, your hands alternated searching your wrists for a hair tie but there wasn't one there. once he noticed it once, he started noticing it constantly. on a case, in the office, in the car, at a bar. you always seemed to forget your hair ties.

so he went to the store after you drive him home one day, and got a few packs of hair ties. after paying for them, he put one on each wrist and the rest in his satchel, so next time, when you needed one, he'd have it.

he felt like such a creep, constantly watching you to see when you would try to put your hair up. of course the rest of the team took notice, though they had noticed your obvious incline towards each other, Spencer was clearly acting a little weird.

and then it happened.

the two of you were partnered to go to the crime scene on a case, and you went to tie up your hair before you entered the scene. he could hardly contain his excitement, his mind moving a mile a minute trying to decide how he wanted to give you the hair tie. he watched one of your hands search your wrist, but this time it pulled off a little black band and started looping it around your hair.

he couldn't believe it. he finally had a chance to make you feel a portion of the way he felt when he saw your effort in making his car Spencer-friendly, and new he had to think of a new way to do it.

snap.

he looked over and saw you holding what used to be your hair tie, now no longer a band, but a completely useless elastic line.

"you've gotta be-" you muttered to yourself, but your sentence was interrupted as Spencer nonchalantly jutted his wrist towards you. "what are you doing?"

"take my hair tie." he stated simply, trying so hard not to blush. this became even harder as your fingers graced the skin of his wrist while you pulled the hair tie off.

"oh! thank you! you're a life saver!" you breathed, cracking a wide smile as you used it to tie your hair up.

you couldn't help the butterflies going absolutely insane in your stomach. why did he have a hair tie? does he tie his hair up sometimes? why have you never seen it up? you tried to suppress a smile, that would be completely inappropriate for a crime scene.

but you couldn't suppress the warm feeling in your chest. because that was always there when Spencer was around.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife

[madwomansapologist]

Don't feel dumb it's a honest mistake lol ❤ - from the person who asked for death from sandman 💀

Meeting Death would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Death | AO3

synopsis: You and literally every other person around the world would expect Death to be someone terrible. Or at least for it to be a skeleton with violent tendencies.

warnings: death will be a topic :| and just a little bit of gore (but is really just a mention)

ps: thanks for your patience! I was so sick the last week, I just post some of my already prepared writings, sorry for making you wait :( i love Death, and loved writing for her, put a lot of effort to make you happy with this (also, please, someone say that I am not the only one thinking that Kirby would be a amazing Monique on a Evelyn Hugo adaptation NETFLIX YOU BETTER OPEN YOUR EYES)

• You we're dying. You knew that this would happen. Thats how the world works since the beginning of times, but something on your mind made you believe that it would only happen when you were 80 eyes old and sleeping. You were dying and, honestly, part of you was dying of shame

• Car accident. Thats really how you are going to die? Like just a billion did before? If it was for you to die young, at least it could be on a awesome way. Like fighting for freedom and becoming a martyr or doing something so freaking cool that your parents would be ashamed to say it out loud. But a car accident, really?

• You didn't really think about that because of the, you know, terrible pain. You were trying to find your phone and call for help or, what the amount of blood and organs made you realize, say good bye to those who you love. But you couldn't. It was to far away from you

• Until a gentle hand took the phone and put it on your hand and all the pain turned into a blurry memory

Your first instinct was to scream for help, but before you could open your mouth you knew that it wouldn't change anything.

The woman in front of you made you peaceful. She looks like someone who know what she was doing. More than that, she looks nice. Like someone who would be a great neighbor. Who would warn that your bag is open. Like someone who could be trusted.

And you don't know how, but you knew that she was Death itself with the same certainty that you know your name.

"Thank you", you said, with a weak voice. "So... Good Place or Bad Place?"

Death laugh, and what a beautiful sound came out of her mouth.

"Too soon?" You asked.

"Just a little bit" Death smile at you. She kneel beside you and touch your belly, picking up a fragment of what was once a car engine. "That must hurt you so bad, I am glad you don't feel it anymore. Do you wanna pray? I can wait."

Her kindness... Damn, that is not how you imagine Death to be. Where is the evil laugh? Or the terrible constant smile? Wouldn't she say that you are a stupid mortal? She waited and, with such a tiny amount of time, you realized that she will always wait. Why would Death fight against mortals if, at the right time, everyone of them would came into her arms? Why would she be rude and mean if the good ones and bad ones will always find a way into her softness?

"So... no skeletons?"

Death shake her head. "Disappointed?"

"A little bit." You got up, surprise that it wasn't painful, and she helped you with a friendly hand. You look at your belly, and damn, that was a really awful view. You look at her again, and damn, that was a really great view. "What we do now?"

Death eyes left you by a second. She look at the floor where you once was, and her eyes view something she never, ever, saw. Death saw a dirty and bloody road that smells like burnt tire, but what matters is what she didn't saw: your dead body.

"What are you?" Death asked you, with an intrinsic surprise in her voice.

"Dead, I think."

"Yeah", she said. You are dead, she knows that, but... What the hell is happening? "I think so."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[spinster-sisters]

[11:45pm]

TW: Mafia Hongjoong cuz why not, spanking, possiveness, jelousy, semi public (car), pain kink, i think thats all

-

“Wasn’t the whole purpose of me coming out with you tonight was to get to know your friends?” You ask with a huff, sliding into the back of the limo alongside Hongjoong. The man was being childish.

Hongjoong had hosted a party at their club specifically in your honor, to allow the others in his gang to become more familiar with you now that you have stuck around for a while. And you had done exactly that. You had spoken to everyone in his inner circle throughout the night, getting along with all of them quite well, but in Hongjoongs eyes, you had gotten on a little too well with Mingi.

It’s not your fault that the tall boy was easily the most approachable one of the group. He had kind eyes and a brilliant smile despite being inherently dangerous. While it was obvious to you that the rest of the inner circle was mostly just being cordial with you for the sake of appeasing the boss, Mingi seemed to be the only one who genuinely wanted to talk to you. So you stuck to him for much of the night.

And of course, Hongjoong noticed. There was no way to avoid his glare, but Mingi wasn’t bothered by it so neither were you. Whether you liked it or not, the tall man had known your lover far longer than you had so if he wasn’t concerned then you had no reason to be. And it’s not like you actually were flirting. It’s not your fault that Hongjoong is jealous. It was all his own doing, and you reap what you sow.

But of course, Hongjoong would never see it like that.

“Get to know. Not fuck.” He growled. The door snapped shut. The partition was up, so you were left alone with your stewing boyfriend.

“Oh, we did? I must have missed that. Tell me? Was that before or after you made a scene of dragging me away in front of the whole party?” You snap back, not in the mood to entertain his delusions.

“Don’t play cute with me now, it’s not going to work.” He shot with a glare. “Maybe it wasn’t intentional, maybe you weren’t flirting, I don’t really care. The point is, it looked like you were. Either way, I can’t have the people there thinking I allow that kind of behavior.”

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes. Hongjoongs glare went from angry to downright menacing in seconds. At some point during his monologue, the car had started, and while you were jostled slightly as the car pressed on, Hongjoong was as still as a rock as he stared you down. You didn’t look away, even though keeping his gaze was becoming increasingly difficult.

“What has gotten into you tonight to become so disrespectful?” His words were posed as a question but the tone was far from inquisitive. “First you insult me by parading around on the arm of another man knowing damn well your mine, then you have the audacity to deny it with this attitude that I don’t know where it came from.” Hongjoong broke his gaze to lean into your ear and whisper.

“Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here? Who you belong to?” He asked with an edge. Your breath hitched at the suggestiveness of his words. His hand took hold of your thigh with a vice grip.

“Here?” You asked in a shaky voice, sitting straight as an arrow. He somehow managed to get closer, his lips brushing the sheep of your ear.

“Here, and now.” He spoke his command with finality.

In an instant, you were pulled off your seat and across his lap. You let out a surprised humph, but you allow yourself to settle. The dress you wore was not amazingly short, but with your ass presented over your lover's lap in such a way you felt suddenly very exposed.

“Joong-“

“Ah, hush darling,” he started with a giggle, smoothing a hand down your spine with a surprisingly gentle touch. It calmed your nerves a bit, easing into the touch.

“Now, isn’t this better? You here with me? Laid out so pretty for my eyes only?” He asked in a coo, clearly soaking in the scene with pride.

“Mmmhmm,” you mutter in agreement. The location wouldn’t have been your first choice, but arousal was already stirring in you regardless. Hongjoong thumbed the hem of your skirt, rolling it between his fingers as though lost in thought. He flipped up the material and ran an affectionate hand over your ass.

“I think I know the perfect way to teach you a lesson and leave my mark on you, darling, wouldn’t you like that?” As he spoke he continued to caress you with gentle strokes.

It was a bit scary how quickly his mood had gone from livid to coddling in a heartbeat.

“I’d like that very much,” you whisper, clinging to the seat, arching you back to appear more inviting.

The first smack to your ass was unexpected so you let out a squeal and jerked forward, only to be pulled back tight by your waist with his free hand. But it wasn’t hard, not yet at least.

“Come on now, we’ve barely started.” He chided with another soft chuckle and soothing hand.

You did your best to right yourself, but the next spank came as suddenly as the last. This one was hard. A groaning cry fell out and the sting lingered, but it felt delectable coming from him.

And so he carried on. Hongjoong was never one to be predictable, each spank was different. Some were so soft it did little more than make your ass jiggle a bit, and some were so hard you felt the imprint of his hand still on you until the next one came. He varied the frequency as well, several smacks in rapid succession followed by a gentle smoothing hand that did nothing but caress for what seemed like minutes before his next spank. It was driving you mad.

At some point your underwear had been pulled down off your butt, giving him more access. From time to time he would giggle or mutter something along the lines of ‘absolutely beautiful’ but you could hardly focus on words right now.

You must have sounded pitiful, crying out and pleading for nothing in particular with every touch. But that is what Hongjoong was after. Your mind is clouded with arousal. Thank the lord for the soundproofed back seat.

Your ass was practically burning by now, and would surely be bright red for days but each throb of pain was accompanied by another in your core. You barely noticed the jostling of the car as you drove on, as he would let your mind rest from anticipation or pain. The whole thing was dizzying, and if you had any shame at all you would have been embarrassed by the leaking you felt coming out of you, but you had none.

Once again his hand rested gently against your butt to soothe.

“This is a punishment baby, you weren’t supposed to enjoy it,” Hongjoong started, though he sounded too pleased with himself to be angry. You only whined for him to continue, too far gone to form words.

“Do you even remember what you were being punished for?” He asked in that same jovial tone. You shook your head ‘no’ quickly and arched your back again. What did it matter why? All you wanted was his hands on you again.

“You don’t remember? Not even the name of the man you flaunted yourself off to?”

Another head shake ‘no.’

“Perfect, let’s keep it that way.”

[izusun]

Headcanon: Izuku is into DIY.

Hot Take: Izuku would create a long furby. He has a collection of various eldritch creepy long furbies. Katsuki absolutely refuses to go into his room because of them. He would've exploded them by now but that would make Izuku cry.

Other CursedTM Things that Izuku does that makes Katsuki die inside and that Katsuki tries to hide from the rest of Class 1-A:

He's a part of the Vulture Culture community and collects roadkill and dead animals to turn into bones.

He has a collection of shitty All Might hawaiian shirts.

He has a collection of stuffed animals. They all have names ripped from Lovecraft such as "Yawgsathoth" and "Mother of Pus"

He writes fanfiction of the heroes.

He has a giant worm on a string plush, and his room is also decorated with Worms on Strings (you have no idea how much Katsuki had to bribe him not to add worms on strings to his uniform blazer)

He does have a plague doctor mask and will regularly just go out in a cloak and his mask

He cosplays exclusively female heroes, and crossdresses the worst dresses

He basically does art makeup, on his face and the face of Katsuki

"Hey what are you reading?" "Oh, this book on how to cook frogs."

He will eat anything. Including stuff that is on the ground. He has an iron stomach.

The actual reason Izuku hangs up All Might everywhere (it used to be a mix of all heroes) is because once in middle school Katsuki accused him of being straight, so he put him up everywhere and continued the habit, Katsuki hates his room now

- Goblin Anon (otherwise known as Goblin anon projects everything she does or wants to do onto her fav)

HI GOBLIN!!! GENUINELY SCREAMED AT THIS AU BECAUSE WTF

even i would not want to enter the beloved’s (izuku’s) room because of his shit.

i’ve searched up long furbys and i am, simply put, traumatized. i had a collection of furbys when i was a kid but we had to give them away because there’s too much of them. but long furbys? i am very much scared.

there’d be a picture of a long furby under the cut, and i’m genuinely terrified of the fucker.

also, can i just say that izuku writing fanfictions is the least cursed thing that he does? because like, reading the rest is like looking at that picture where you can’t decipher a single thing because, again, wtf izuku.

but they’re also funnier? creepier? because i can genuinely see izuku doing those dhekdoowks

✄┈┈┈

this shit would probably be snaking around the frames of izuku’s door. or he probably has one at the corner of his wall, the one that meets with the ceiling, and when a visitor looks up, they’re greeted by the sight of this centipede looking furby that has additional four eyes that izuku lovingly and carefully sewn on. it’s so nightmarish :’)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the vulture culture part started when they were young. his interest started when he saw a documentary on how to pin butterflies and he was like, “you know what? thats actually something i want to do!” but! BUT!! he cannot catch a butterfly, thus he settled for mounting dragonflies which he collected in the nearby stream (where katsuki fell).

fun fact about mounting dragonflies: they lose colours when they’re dead. you can use acetone to not only help preserve its colours, but also to stop its decay. they decay so quickly, it’s terrible.

anyways, izuku does not know that and instead followed a youtube video of how to mount dragonflies, using an old picture frame as the case.

inko comes home, sees his son doing his stuff and is just happy that izuku’s not rewatching that loud all might video. she helps him pin the other wings and they are fascinated at how pretty they look. well, the next day, the wings are now transparent and the belly side of the dragonflies are black. it also stinks so they had to throw the whole thing plus the case.

izuku’s fascination grows from there.

a failed experiment, after all, instigates the desire to right them.

so that’s where he starts: butterflies, moths, beetles, another dragonfly case.

katsuki is fascinated and disgusted because, “why would you want dead insects in your room, deku?”

the rest began when the bakugou’s and the midoriya’s have road trips. inko doesn’t have a car so the bakugou’s drive along with them, and it’s a good day. the kids are having fun and getting along, and the parents are chilling and enjoying their vacation. life is good.

then on their drive home, izuku, who is sitting sandwiched between katsuki and inko, lets out this blood-curdling scream. it wakes katsuki up and almost had masaru swerving the car out of the highway.

“maru-san (because my boy izuku cannot say masaru) can you please stop the car! i wanna get that!” he screams, pointing at something indecipherable by the side of the roads.

masaru does anyways because it’s so rare for izuku to request something, but also his heart’s still pumping so fast after izuku’s scream.

masaru wasn’t even done stopping the engine when the car doors are opening, and katsuki and izuku are tumbling out, hand-in-hand. masaru and inko follow them closely, while mitsuki stayed to watch over the car.

katsuki’s excited for an adventure, but then izuku just. stops them. in front of a skull.

masaru chokes from behind them and katsuki lets go of izuku’s hand so fast, running back to his dad because, again, “deku what the shit?”

izuku ignores him and gestures at the deer skull, one that has moss growing by the teeth and around the jaw, turning to inko to ask, “mama? can we bring that home?”

masaru feels very faint, but doesn’t say anything when inko easily agrees, laughing at her boy and patting his untameable hair as if your child asking you for a carcass’s skull is normal.

inko picks it up and they go back to the car. mitsuki does a double-take on what inko’s holding, but shushes up when she saw izuku bouncing happily. katsuki hesitantly sits beside izuku, but when izuku began yammering about all might, he forgets about the skull and nerds out with izuku.

inko explains to mitsuki and masaru about her son’s newfound interest, telling them that it’d go away in two years, don’t worry.

it didn’t. instead, his interest and his collection grew. so for his subsequent birthdays, along with hero merch, he has vulture culture collections gifted to him.

when he moved to the dorms, they’re more packaged than his hero merch and katsuki wants to get angry because he’s been looking for those limited hero merch and yet there they are, chilling beside izuku’s many many skulls and bones.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU STARTED COLLECTING THE ALL MIGHT HAWAIIAN SHIRTS WHEN HE WAS TWELVE

he ransacked for the very first edition, often saving his allowance just so he can buy the retro versions of the all might hawaiian shirts. sometimes he’d barter, but that’s only when he’s really desperate for the shirts. usually he’d just be in an auction site and buy just those.

he’d take katsuki with him and katsuki is very careful in what to buy, often researching the things and having a very long pros and cons list to narrow down what he’d buy, then his best bud izuku just out there buying all might hawaiian shirts.

funniest thing too is that those are the first to go because they? don’t value much? and they’re ugly, tbh, and yet izuku’s slurping them all up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the first time class 1a were talking about plushies, izuku dropped the names and they’re confused because-

“bro did you name your plushies with lovecraft names?” OR “bro? do you perhaps have personalized lovecraft toys?”

it’s the earlier one but izuku would want to buy personalized lovecraft monster toys.

ok but? he names them as per the appropriate lovecraft characters? like:

a purple octopus plushie is called azathoth.

a green gecko plushie is called bokrug.

a fish plushie (literally nemo) is called dagon instead of nemo.

a pink jellyfish plushie is mother of pus.

he has other plushies that have normal names (well, as normal as naming a plushie “cheese grater”), but he has a collection of specific plushies that align with lovecraft beings.

he writes all might x reader fanfictions, i’m sorry ;v;

he only writes them because he doesn’t want other heroes with all might, but also the reader pairing gets more views than all might with other heroes.

katsuki caught him writing a slowburn, enemies to lovers all might x reader fanfic and proceeded to proofread it for him.

synopsis of the fanfiction: reader is a villain with a sound quirk (tailored to present mic’s quirk) and all might met them in a hero gala where the reader pretended to be a worker so that they could infiltrate the gala’s holder’s office for a specific banking access that is linked to the world’s bank. all might manages to sniff them out and proceeds to fight them, but when a beam is about to hit the reader, all might swoops in and saves them. cue the reader developing unwanted feelings for their greatest foe, all might.

aND THEN!!! all might knows the reader outside of their villain persona and is actually very much taken by them. so it’s a painful surprise that the reader is a villain. but he is willing to save them.

it is still incomplete despite having 102 chapters. by chapter 78, katsuki asked for payment because shit was too long and too angsty.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HEISOSL IZUKU HAS A WORM ON A STRING DOOR CURTAIN

he genuinely likes them but creating the door curtain kind of extinguished that interest because that’s just too much worms and too much strings for a single curtain, and it was very much tiring.

he has a tiny one stitched on his blazer and inko heaved this really big sigh when she saw that her son’s crisp UA uniform got a worm by the chest pocket.

aizawa eyed it once and was so close to expelling izuku just because of that.

shouto, when they became friends, sends a box of them to izuku because he thought that those are izuku’s favourite. katsuki had not stopped cackling when he saw the huge box of them.

to punish katsuki, he made a furby with worm hair and left it by katsuki’s door. katsuki’s scream woke everyone up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the moment he walked out with a plague mask, tokoyami was exiting his dorm room too and they made a long eye contact.

tokoyami does not know if he is amazed by izuku’s plague mask or he is terrified because why does it look authentic.

for halloween, he was a plague doctor.

he stowed them away after saving eri.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

his first women hero cosplay was in third grade when they had a play about different heroes. the girl who was playing ragdoll got sick and everyone’s already strapped in as their hero and unwilling to change. izuku, himself, is present mic (katsuki’s all might).

the girls don’t want to give up their heroes and izuku, the bestest boy, goes and says he will become ragdoll.

their teacher agrees and helps him strap in as ragdoll and you know what, izuku loves it.

from then on, he tries to cosplay as much women heroes that he can afford. inko loves helping him and katsuki thinks he is adorable but! dont tell deku!!!

OK BUT he wore the dress that broke the internet once and katsuki almost exploded the dress off him. almost because izuku dodged and warned him that if he ever breaks that dress, katsuki will have to pay (either monetary or revenge, katsuki doesn’t know so he behaved).

FOR HALLOWEEN, HE WORE THIS AND KATSUKI HATES IT

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku painting star freckles on his face!!!! or heart freckles!!!! or flowers!!!!

izuku in fairy makeup, pleaseee!

he also loves giving katsuki his own freckles because something about blonde hair and red eyes with pale cheeks kissed by freckles is making izuku gay panic.

izuku putting concealer on his own freckles once and his classmates are looking at him weirdly, wondering why he looks off?

like he still looks amazing, but something’s missing. it’s fucking them up and katsuki isn’t helping them so they’re trying to piece what’s up.

it takes monoma sneering at izuku and asking where his eight freckles are that 1a realizes why he looks different.

ok but denki asking monoma why he knows how much freckles izuku has and monoma spluttering, bright red and embarrassed, until he just walks away.

(answer: he’s crushing on green bean).

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU HAVING A COLLECTION OF LIKE ARCHAIC? BREWING? STUFF? BOOKS.

i dont know how to explain it but my friend has this specific book about poisons, detailing recipes and ingredients.

it also talks about the use of frogs, lizards, snakes. the benefits of different flowers (ones with toxins) and how to use them during tea time.

it’s bizarre but the book looks pretty so i think izuku would have a handful of those in his room.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku eating grass? flowers? trying dandelions and complaining that it’s furry

izuku wandering what a twig tastes like so he just sucks on it like a lollipop.

inko gave up on stopping him because her son would just eat anything but his broccolis, and she’s very much tired of thinking if izuku would have an upset stomach. he never had.

first time mitsuki saw izuku do that, she forced him to drink cola and eat candy to cleanse his palette.

katsuki goads him on eating more.

izuku’s favourite is chewing on maple leaves. he’s just a weird boy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

OK BUT THE FINAL ONE ABOUT HIS ALL MIGHT POSTERS?? I HAVENT STOPPED LAUGHINGF

izuku wanting more all might figurines than posters. he only has some chemistry stuff (periodic table) on his wall, a little tapestry that matches inko’s, a canvas of monet’s water lilies (again, matching inko), and some cosmic facts that he bought online.

and yk katsuki sees those and thinks that it’s so weird that izuku has those posters but not all might?

his first thought was, “he doesn’t like all might as much as i do.”

the following one is, “he’s straight so he doesn’t want a guy’s face on his wall.”

katsuki’s mouth so happens to say the second one and the next week he visited izuku’s room again, each surface of the wall that is not taken by pinned insects and his frog-book stuff, plus his other existing non-hero posters, is covered in just all might posters.

he belatedly realizes that his own face is also on izuku’s wall, but that’s for later musings because for now he’s jealous that izuku managed to scourge the limited all might posters, but also is disgusted a bit because that’s too much all might.

katsuki walks out before his interest in all might plummets.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

ps to my beloved: ﹤୨♡୧﹥

GOBLIN I LOVE YOUR AUS ALL THE TIME AND IM SORRY FOR RESPONDING SO LATE! YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE AND I LOVE U!!!! you’re genuinely so precious pls dont stop your ramblings!!!!

[sansacherie]

“sansa’s feminity is defined by social constructs that the man made world created. its materialistic and performative and restrictive. it harms all women. thats not to say women can’t... enjoy certain aspect of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

There is just a.... lot with that statement.

First off, you can really tell that OP does not understand Sansa as a character (or girls like her) when they say her femininity is “performative”.  

Sansa’s interests in particular things aren’t her attempting to put on some kind of “performance”, it is a natural part of who she is. it would exist regardless of whenever she is canon Westeros or in a modern AU. Could you argue that Sansa has been shaped/influenced by the women around her (Catelyn, Septa Mordane, Margaery, Cersei) Yes, to a certain extent. Because Sansa “being a lady at three” (and going by normal developmental stages, would have been in diapers not that long ago) again suggests to me this is who she is inherently. Using words “performative” suggests falseness and that doesn’t work because a proper look at Sansa’s chapters would understand that her interests/desires/behaviour is sincere.  

Regarding her femininity being “materialistic” …. In that same post, the OP defines Sansa’s femininity as “fancy dresses, pretty embroidery, floral perfumes, dainty desserts, slippers on polished floors, music and dancing, love stories, traditional marriage, courtly intrigue, smiling when you want to cry”

I look at the statement above with OP’s own definition of Sansa’s femininity… and I’m like, where’s the bridge?

This is where you actually need to understand the words that you are using instead of just throwing them in to make yourself sound revolutionary.  The word “materialistic” means “excessively concerned with physical comforts or the acquisition of wealth”.

None of that really applies to the things OP listed.  First off, a lot of the items they listed “floral perfumes, dainty desserts, music and dancing” could actually be considered a form of self-care- that is to maintain “one’s emotional and spiritual health.”  Looking after yourself doesn’t just mean keeping a proper sleeping schedule or drinking water because self-care is unique to the person. Self-care is about that person making themselves feel good.  It is not materialistic.  

Let’s move onto “fancy dresses and pretty embroidery”.  I don’t think liking “fancy dresses” makes you materialistic. If it is, then why are so many Arya stans insistent on arguing that Arya actually likes dresses? Because being materialistic is defined as being “excessively concerned” so in other words, “overly, extremely” – so basically obsession. Sansa loves pretty clothes, but not to the point of being obsessed.  She understands the need for her to dress in simple clothing in the Vale, even if she resents it.  She was genuinely surprised by the dress fitting because Cersei neglected her clothes.

“Pretty embroidery” … I would argue (and somebody correct me if I’m wrong) but embroidery is related to sewing… and that’s actually a really important, practical skill that transcends class lines (something I’ve talked about before)?  People in Westeros – even the rich- simply do not have the luxury where if they were me, the local shopping centre is 10 minutes away by car and at this centre, I have thousands of dresses to choose from right then and there (if money wasn’t an issue) Instead, the clothing that Sansa and Arya wear (both at the beginning of their stories and throughout), as well as the clothing of Catelyn, Cersei, Arianne, Margaery, Daenerys, Beth Cassel, Jeyne Poole, to the small-folk (i.e. Pia) also took the time to make- but the difference lies in that Westeros hasn’t undergone a textile revolution where clothing can be produced at a mass-scale.  That dress Sansa wore for her wedding? Took weeks to make, and if something had happened it the day before- they would not be able to get another copy of it elsewhere.

Furthermore, there’s also the fact that sewing circles/doing embroidery together can actually be a way for women to bond, share conversations, perhaps hatch plans because it is done within a feminine space that their husbands/brothers/fathers don’t cross.

“Music and dancing”. How? Why? Loving music and dancing don’t make you materialistic.  Loving music and dancing- things related to the arts, is deeply human.  It brings joy to people, helps us to connect with others. People often use music as a form of self-healing. The same for dancing, which enables people to express and tell entire stories/send messages through movement.

Fuck off with this “materialistic” bullshit.

“Love stories”.

LOL, what?  How is liking love stories “materialistic”?

And if it is… then why are Arya stans also huge Gendrya shippers? (Which I also ship btw, although I definitely wouldn’t say I’m invested. I can take it or leave it.)

“it harms all women. that’s not to say women…can’t enjoy certain aspects of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

The issue with that statement is that it is IMO putting the blame entirely on women/girls who happen to enjoy these things naturally (for example, I like to wear pretty clothes because it makes me feel good) rather than the men in their society with the actual power.

Ned Stark might have indulged his 9year old with sword lessons but it is abundantly clear through his POV that he saw it as a passing interest. “She would tire of it soon”. Tywin wouldn’t even consider doing the same for Cersei.  Selwyn Tarth finally relented after Brienne broke three-four betrothals.

Sansa or any girl liking “pretty dresses, perfume, music, dancing, love stories” is not the thing driving female subjugation. You know what I tend to think of when reading the books? I think of how girls can be forced into marriages they don’t want/have their entire futures decided for them at the age of 11/12, be subjected to marital rape, queens being abused by their husband’s Kingsguard, a sex worker being murdered in bed, an eighteen year old girl’s virginity treated as a contest, that same girl being told by Tarly not to look to him for justice if she gets raped,  the fact that smallfolk women if Kingslanding had fallen would have been at most risk of violence/rape, the fact that women can be excepted to keep having more children even though it would be dangerous for them to do (Naerys, Alysanne)

Just… the amount of conscendation and arrogance in that statement (as well as the entire post) is staggering.  imagine thinking you’re writing some sort of feminist post only to degrade women/girls like sansa because they don’t fit your way of being. you do realize you are no different than the adults in arya’s life who keep trying to force her to be someone she’s not? smdh

[sunlightandsuffering]

Corruption au Eren cockwarms mikasa once they’re together, he says ‘it helps him remember things’ and then every so often he gives her an orgasm just to keep her pliant against him while she plays with her boobs, he doesn’t do it in a cruel kind of way, it just he wants to pleasure her while doing his work

however when they’re not together, he’s such a sadist about it, he refuses to let her come even after he’s done his hw and is just fucking her, he always leaves when he’s done. Until one day when he starts feeling bad, he lets her come and it absolutely ruins him, he becomes obsessed with pleasuring her and seeing her face flushed pink, and hearing the needy sounds she makes and the quiet sighs, and the way her hands frantically move around until he Holds them together

STOP U GUYS KNOW ABOUT MY COCKWARMING OBSESSION STOP IT 😂😂 omg bless corruption Eren tho, this is my favourite kink for him, its so hot and it fits their situation perfectly.

It starts slow for Eren, to be honest he has no fucking idea when it really started. One day he'd been failing calculus, accepting he wasn't going to pass the year and thinking about maybe dealing drugs as a career path over his previous dreams of doctor. The next he was being forced to study three days out of the week with high school princess, Mikasa Ackerman.

At first he'd hated it, hated her really. He'd never been able to stand her, not since they were little and she'd chosen the dark side of Historia Reiss, bully and mean girl if there ever was one. Historia had sweet innocent baby Mikasa under her thumb. Mikasa followed her around like a dumb fucking puppy and Eren hated followers, they were all the same, no personalities, no aspirations of their own. She had no backbone either. She let all the shit Historia did slide, all the bullying, the holier than thou attitude because her family was richer than god. So very typical of the rich kids from the upper class neighbourhood. Eren would know, he used to be that rich kid, used to live that life. That was until his parents died in a brutal car accident, Zeke had inherited half the estate on the condition he'd take care of Eren and the rest was tied up in Eren's trust fund until he was twenty one.

Big surprise, no one had taken care of Eren and he was fucking lucky Armin and his grandpa had been there to help him out.

Everyone else, all his other 'friends' had given him the cold shoulder upon finding out he was no longer rich for the moment, he'd been dropped like a hot potato. So Eren's hatred of the upper class of Shiganshina had begun.

And Mikasa Ackerman was the pinnacle of it all, the worst the rich had to offer. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, had every opportunity in life, completely innocent and sweet, and the cherry on top of it all she volunteered on the weekend at the pound.

She disgusted him, so prim and proper and all around good girl while she was letting her 'friends' bully him for being poor, watching the injustice happen like a fish in a bowl.

He couldn't fucking stand her.

Of course, she would be the person who ended up tutoring him though, Principal Erwin mandating it if he wanted to graduate. So here he was sitting in the computer lab at five on a Wednesday watching her plump lips move as she explained integrals to him for the third time in an hour.

It's been a few months since they've started this little arrangement and he's gotten used to her presence. He wouldn't say he likes her, thats a stretch but he's not quite as cruel as he once was. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a kick of watching that beautiful mouth part every time he does something mean though, those little gasps when he pinches her thigh or touches her where he shouldn't.

It's probably the highlight of these sessions.

Today he's feeling bold, maybe he'll push his luck. After all, he's done it before and she's never protested. For some reason or another Mikasa Ackerman has a soft spot for him, and no matter how mean, she lets him get away with murder. "Miki, come here I can't hear you properly." "And then you take the-what?" She looks up, pretty dove-grey eyes wide, sparkling as she explains her favourite subject, fucking math.

"You heard me, get over here." As usual, she takes orders so fucking well, it brings out the absolute worst in him. She's standing up and next to him in seconds and he's eye level with her perfect chest, those tits he dreams about every night, ripping her bra off with his teeth and sucking at those pretty pink nipples of hers. He's only seen them a few times, when he convinces her it's okay, when he's sure there's absolutely no one around, but they keep him awake at night. He pats his lap, grinning as she goes easily, settling into her favourite spot, he knows she loves it just as much as he does. Her thighs always shake and she shudders as his hands find their place cupping those beautiful creamy thighs, head tucked into her shoulder.

Mikasa starts talking again, beautiful lilt soothing him as she launches into a renewed explanation of integrals while his hands move up, up, up and to his absolute favourite spot, her panties. Today she's wearing cotton, he can feel it, must be laundry day and he kisses her shoulder as he feels how wet she is. Fucking perfect.

Lately she's been more partial to fancier underwear and he can't help but wonder if it's for him. He has a feeling it is, because the first month of their little arrangement he'd snuck as many peaks as they could and it was always pink or white cotton with polka dots and pretty bows. They were his favourite, so fucking innocent, so untouched by anyone but him.

He watches as she moves her pencil drawing lines and numbers, a little bit of the alphabet too and he ignores it all in favour of watching her chest, her breath hitch as he slides a finger inside her panties, feeling those velvet lips, it's been a while.

He's been on his best behaviour lately since Levi almost caught them at her house that one time, but he's horny and she's wet and he misses being inside her, misses watching her try to talk through him fucking her, how her voice would waver, change pitch. How many times she'd stumble through her sentences, have to start all over again, because she can't handle how big he is, doesn't know how to deal with the all-consuming sensation of him fucking deep within her walls, just sitting there filling her right up to her cervix.

Fuck.

He can't really be blamed for what he does next, and besides it doesn't matter, Eren's not a stupid kid, he allowed himself to get this far behind in calculus. He'd spent an hour last night going over integrals with the sole purpose of knowing what was going on today so he could fuck with his favourite toy.

He moves her a bit so she's resting more heavily on one thigh and slides his joggers and boxers down just enough expose his heavy cock to the air, already rock hard and waiting. Mikasa gasps a little bit, a breathy sound quick and sharp as she sees him, her eyes transfixed on his dick and he grins, sliding her panties to the side and slamming her down on him before she even knows what hit her. The slide is so fucking easy too, it takes almost nothing and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction that even with little to no prep she can take him, probably better than anyone else he's ever fucked. She takes it all no complaints, as deep as she can and he bottoms out.

She lets out a long moan, that pretty sound he wants to record and listen to on his phone over and over again, her head lolling back uselessly against his shoulder as she takes in the sensation.

"Miki baby you know this helps me remember better right, sorry it just wasn't getting through my head I was too distracted, but now I'm all ears, why don't you continue. What's that rule you were talking about, how are derivatives and integrals related again baby, they're opposites?"

She's breathing quick and Eren doesn't blame her, he's struggling to keep his tone level as her walls squeeze him, warm and soft and he wants to stay buried there forever, she's so fucking tight.

"I-Eren-I-yeah, opposites," she finally manages to get the last word out ending a little broken as she struggles to sit up and make herself comfortable on his cock, she should be used to it by now with how often he does this, but it never fails she always reacts like she's taking him for the first time all over again. He fucking loves it.

"Why don't you explain again baby, I don't think I really understand? And make sure you're clear Mikasa." She nods, still squirming around, every movement shooting electricity up through both of them as she accidentally grinds down, she lets out an involuntary moan and Eren smirks.

Eren takes it upon himself to move her up and off his cock a few inches before impaling her back down, biting down on her neck a little bit as punishment and she whines, teeth coming out to bite down on her lip brutally as she tries to keep quiet.

"Stop moving baby, you're distracting me, just take my cock like a good girl and explain for me yeah?" She replies brokenly her voice soft and struggling with her breaths, "Yeah."

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[butwhyduh]

Since you wrote Christmas with tha Bois are you planning on writing a New Years Eve fics too 🎇🎉?

*insert surprised pikachu meme*

now I am (!!!)

They are all required to go to a Wayne gala that Bruce has thrown since before he took Dick in as a ward. It’s important. So of course, I wanna show what kind of suits they would wear too. (Indulge me lmao) [none of these images are sensitive. Tumblr is an idiot]

Tim

Okay I get that you wouldn’t think high strung proper Tim Drake Wayne , Mr CEO, would were a pretty casual suit. But he wears a suit everyday and by golly, he isn’t wearing a tie for New Years freakin Eve. It’s something different and he can relax. And he’s so tired of black. Plus the blue brings brings out the color in his eyes.

—————

He adjusted the collar of his suit. He always wore a nice suit to work. But this was for a gala. The tie just wouldn’t lay flat. You walked up behind him and pulled the offensive fabric off and tossed it on the bed. He moved to protest but you started unbuttoning his collar.

“Okay,” he said with a slow smirk. “But it’ll have to be quick.”

“I’m just fixing your shirt,” you said rolling your eyes. “I’m not messing my makeup up before a gala. That looks nicer. I never see you relaxed,” you said leaving your hands on his chest longer than necessary.

“I relax sometimes. I’m relaxing tonight. With you,” he said turning to give you a quick kiss. You smiled and he took a look at your outfit. “I’ll have to keep my eye peeled though. You’re going to attract a lot of attention in that.”

“Too bad I’m already dating a man they couldn’t possibly compete with. Come on, lover boy,” you said and he took your hand before going downstairs.

It was always stressful to first go to a gala. Tim was moderately famous as Bruce Wayne’s heir, heir to the Drake family fortune, and the acting CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Luckily this was very boring to most young people and his pictures were in a small section of the business page of the papers rather than like Dick Grayson being splashed all over the lifestyle section like a celebrity. But cameras flashing as you walked down stairs in heels was terrifying. Tim was the only one to notice as you gripped his arm like a vice each time.

You could usually smile and drink champagne as Tim talked shop with the old men he worked with or young men who were trying to climb the business ladder. Tim’s fingers made idle circles in your hand or on your back as he talked. He was also taking glances at you in you outfit all evening.

Only when he was desperate for a break would he ask you to dance. Tim was a good dancer. He had been taught at an early age. But he was not a natural and he didn’t want you bothered with more photos. You insisted after a full hour of talking about some sort of quarterly investment opportunity that he take you to the dance floor.

“Dance with me, Timmy,” you asked quietly in a lull in the conversation. It was almost midnight anyways. He smiled at you before looking back at the men.

“Excuse us,” Tim said before letting you lead him to the floor. He gently held your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The song was fairly slow so you barely danced more than a sway. That was fine. You were more interested in staring in to his ocean eyes than cutting a rug.

“Sorry if it’s been incredibly boring,” Tim said. “You’d probably rather be doing anything else.”

“Dancing is nice. Seeing you more than 5 minutes is nice,” you said.

“Speaking of 5 minutes, it’s 5 minutes until midnight.”

“No more work talk tonight. Just be with me,” you pleaded softly. Tim frowned for a second before pulling you closer.

“I can do that. All yours tonight. I’ll just punch anyone who tries to talk business to me,” he said.

“Good enthusiasm. Terrible plan. Sweet though,” you said kissing his cheek. He smiled.

“Or we could just leave right after New Years,” Tim said with a wiggle of his brows. You giggled.

“Better plan.”

Bruce had gotten on the stage and the music stopped. You didn’t let Tim go. As they counted down to midnight, you and Tim gazed at each other.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

You leaned your face up and kissed him. Tim held your waist tighter and your wrapped your fingers up in his soft black hair. After just a few seconds you pulled back and smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, sunshine,” he said.

“Happy New Years, Duckie.”

“Let’s get out of here before they see us leave,” he suggested. The rest of the night was spent in his room and you were so glad for the loud fireworks to cover any noise you might have made.

Dick

Dick has been to 714 galas. He’s an expert. He’s expected to play the handsome charming eldest son. Wearing a beautiful suit is half the battle. Not to mention, he kinda likes showing off a little. It’s New Years. And the blue and grey bring out the color in his eyes so well.

———————————

Dick barely got in the door before flopping on the bed with his detective uniform still on. You sat on the edge of your bed, already in hair, dress, and makeup, and reached over to rub his shoulders. He groaned softly.

Barely off of work and already having to change into a suit for a family event. Dick needed a day off. Badly. He had the next 3 days off of work and he just had to deal with this night. No, he needed to be positive. You hadn’t done anything and he didn’t want to ruin New Years Eve.

You pushed your palm into a knot on his shoulder. He all but moaned. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “It’s these stupid cases. They have been driving me- baby,” Dick said turning to look and taking you in. “You look good.”

You smiled and giggled. “You think?”

“Always, but this? Wowza,” he said laughing. “Im going be showing off the prettiest girl at the ball,” Dick said sing song. You rolled your eyes with a grin. His compliments were usually over the top.

“Yeah, yeah. Not likely. You need to get dressed or I’m going to be very fancy for no reason,” you said and he hopped up. Dick was overworked but he always was. In record time he was dressed.

“Do you want to drive,” he asked hopefully. A quick 30 minute nap would be awesome.

“I can’t drive the Porsche since it’s stick,” you admitted.

“Well in that case, I’m teaching you soon. But not tonight. You gotta learn how to drive my car,” Dick said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You added that to the list of skills he thought completely necessary that hardly anyone could do anymore. Could you even buy a new standard transmission car?

“Sure, hun. Let’s get going before we’re late,” you said kissing his cheek. You straightened his pocket square and you were both out the door.

“-and then you push the clutch. Right here,” he pointed at the floorboard as he drove.

“Not tonight. We can do this some other time. And if we don’t get there, it’s fine,” you said evasively.

“Ever? It’s important to be able to drive any kind of car and if it’s just you and the Porsche,” Dick said with a frown. You could see a contingency plan forming in his head.

“I very much doubt there will be a situation where I have to drive your car,” you said with a shrug.

“I’d rather plan for it,” Dick said and you dropped it. It was like a security blanket for him to plan for anything.

Walking into a gala was exciting and nerve racking. Dick was extremely popular back in Gotham and it was honestly weird as he was normal back in Bludhaven. Dick was the perfect gentleman and made sure you felt comfortable and safe when the cameras flashed. You smiled and ignored whatever anyone said about you. It could be mean with jealousy. You were with him for his money, you were just arm candy, and you weren’t that pretty. The first time had hurt pretty badly. Now you had a new ring on your hand and you felt almost as nervous as your first gala. One through the door to the ballroom, you relaxed.

“Are you okay? You looked really nervous,” Dick said and you grimaced. That sounds like nice pictures.

“Just a little,” you said subconsciously playing with your ring. Dick, of course, noticed right away.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want the ring? Or the engagement,” he asked quietly and it broke your heart that he was even worried about it. His big blue eyes were wide with worry.

“Not at all,” you said grabbing his shoulder. “I just don’t like how they talk. I’m very happy. And I love the ring. It’s beautiful.”

Dick’s frown turned to a pleased smile. “Good. Because that was my mom’s ring.”

“Dick! You gave me a family heirloom without mentioning it? That makes it twice as special,” you said shocked. “Thats so sweet of you.”

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love it. But if you give me something that important again without telling me, I’ll beat you,” you whispered in his ear and he laughed.

“Let’s dance,” Dick said. He pulled you to the dance floor. He was the best dancer out of all of the Wayne children and possibly better than Bruce. He had been dancing since he could walk. His parents were performers and taught him many dance styles. Bruce also insisted that all the children knowing all the common dances they would need to know at a gala.

Keeping up with Dick was the biggest issues with dancing. He could dance quick dances for hours and you had to remind him that not everyone spent hours a day training and fighting. At the moment you had insisted on stopping to get a drink. You practically pounded a water bottle while he sipped on some punch.

“Kinda floral. Not bad. Little sweet,” he said.

“It’s not alcoholic, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just one glass,” Dick said. “I’ll be fine to drive later.”

“No. It’s just that Damian and his girlfriend have a cup each,” you said motioning over to them.

“It’s fine. They wouldn’t give them alcohol,” Dick said and you relaxed. Of course not. That would be crazy to give kids alcohol.

“Let’s sit down. My feet are getting a little tired,” you said with a wince. He nodded and you sat at a table by the dance floor. As if Dick had put out a sign, a bunch of people flocked over to talk to him.

Somehow a plate of small snacks ended up in front of you, probably Alfred. You ate a little while he played the philanthropist son of Bruce Wayne. It was actually really nice to be ignored.

Until it wasn’t.

An older Wayne investor brought a woman over as his ‘date.’ She instantly latched on to Dick and started flirting with him. Her hand kept touching his arms and shoulders. You were getting mad but this wasn’t a surprise. People acted like he was someone they could grope and touch without consequences.

Finally it was too much and you cleared your throat. She looked at you in disgust before going back to flirting with Dick.

“Can you give my fiancé some space,” you asked politely as you could. Her eyes raked over your body.

“He could do so much better than some poor trash like you in a second rate dress. Not even that ugly little ring could change that,” she said nastily. You gasped.

“Okay we’re leaving,” Dick said standing up. The woman had to back away from him. His jaw was clenched in controlled anger. He had a temper and this wasn’t the time to lose it.

You stood up and hissed as your shoes cut into your feet worse than when you had been wearing them all night. Great, you couldn’t even wear heels in front of her. She laughed. Dick simply picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the ballroom and upstairs to his old bedroom. He sat you on the bed gently.

You knew that she was just a vapid socialite but it did hurt. She had pretty accurately attacked your insecurities and you blinked to prevent yourself from crying.

“Baby,” Dick said bending to a crouch in front of you. “Don’t think anything about what she said. She’s just jealous. Not worth your time.”

“She’s not wrong though. I’m just a poor kid trying to fit in in Wayne freaking Manor,” you said wiping your face. Stupid tears.

“And I’m just a circus kid. Don’t forget that,” Dick said sitting beside you. He pulled you into a hug. “Not a single damn bit of that matters. It’s almost midnight in a minute. Do you want to go back downstairs?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a dry smile.

“I figure. We have a better view anyways,” he said opening the curtains. You could vaguely hear the noise downstairs.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

“Happy New Years, baby,” Dick said giving you a kiss. He wiped the tears from your cheek.

“Happy New Years. Sorry I’m all teary,” you said.

“Nope. Don’t be sorry. My new New Years resolution is to make you smile,” he said with a devious look. His fingers suddenly attacked your sides and pulled laughter from you. He pushed you to the bed in his attack.

“Dick! Okay! Quit!” You shrieked with laughter. He stopped his hands and leaned over you.

“Alright. I quit. But since we’re alone. Wanna ring in the New Years the right way,” he asked with a smirk. You grinned back.

“Got any ideas on how to do that?” You asked back.

“So many. Baby, so many,” before kissing you. Fireworks sounded in the background.

Damian

(Older 16 yr old) Damian is literally the son of Batman. He’s going to dress like it. Nice and formal and expensive. It was like a form of armor. Homeboy looks like a million bucks. His watch might be. And if a burgundy turtleneck A accents his well defined pecs, B shows the gold in his tan skin, and C the gorgeous green in his eyes, he ain’t complaining.

“Beloved,” Damian said pulling on his jacket. “Come out,” he said in a sing song voice that would have been completely foreign to hear to anyone else but you.

You flushed as you came out. His jaw dropped before he quickly straightened his face. He’d taken the risk of buying you a dress for the party. He’d seen Bruce do it for women all the time. It was practically his calling card. Even Dick had done it a few times. But this was a first for Damian.

“You look very nice. Beautiful,” he said quietly looking away at his cuff links. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”

“Just my shoes,” you said, trying to slip them on and almost falling over. Damian quickly grabbed your waist.

“I got you. I can put them on,” he said kneeling to the ground. He hadn’t meant anything besides efficiency with his offer. But as he slid your foot into a heel and strapped it across your ankle, it felt far more intimate. His hand held your calf a little longer than necessary before switching to the other foot. This side had a slit up to your thigh and he could see your bare leg up close. Damian gulped before attaching the shoe. He quickly stood up and cleared his throat.

“Are you ready now?”

You nodded. He offered his arm and you went downstairs. Cameras flashed for just a few minutes before Damian skillfully steered you away from them. His father would kill any pictures of you before they got to the papers but Damian knew how much you hated them.

“Dance with me?” You asked and he happily complied. He had been trained in several dance styles and was good at it. He also enjoyed the way you would smile when he would spin you. If it made his beloved happy, he was happy. It attracted a little attention. Bruce Wayne’s teenage son and his date could dance with skill. This too was only viewable in person.

“Let’s get a drink,” Damian said pulling you to the refreshments. You were out of breath but happy and followed him. There was suppose to be people handling the drinks but there were so many people. Damian pushed through and grabbed two drinks and handed one to you.

“Let’s find a table,” you said. As always, Damian pulled you along to a secluded corner close to the door to the garden. Cold air and little whiffs of cigarette smoke swirled around but at least you weren’t in the overheated body filled floor anymore.

You sat and drank at your punch. It was heavily sweetened and floral. It was refreshing and... warm. You waved at yourself.

“Is it hot in here to you?” You asked Damian.

“Want to go for a walk outside? It’s cooler out there,” he suggested. Damian took your arm again and you walked out the door into the garden. A stone path lined little beds of delicate plants. Topiaries lined the path. Small solar lights and the full moon lit the garden. There were a few people walking but not many.

Damian looked so handsome. Long dark lashes frames his bright green eyes. His skin almost glistened with silver light of the moon. He bent and plucked a flower from a bush. Damian tucked it behind you ear with a little smile.

“The prettiest rose in all the garden,” he said and you smiled shyly.

“I don’t think that’s actually a rose though,” you said and he laughed. A rare occurrence.

“It’s not. But I was talking about you. May I kiss you,” he said lightly touching the side of your neck with his hand. You nodded and he leaned down. You closed your eyes and his lips brushed against yours. You pressed a hand against his chest.

Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck to hold you as he pressed harder against your mouth. His tongue slipped in your mouth and you made the softest whimpering sound. Damian’s eyes flew open and he almost froze. That was new and he could get used to the pretty sound.

You kissed like this for a little while. Damian’s hand slid down to hold your waist when he noticed you shivered. He pulled back.

“Beloved, are you cold,” he asked, cursing himself. Of course, you were cold wearing a thin dress while he was in a full suit. He quickly pulled off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.

“Just a little. It’s fine,” you protested. He insisted on sliding your arms in the sleeves and button the jacket.

“Let’s go in. It’s close to midnight anyways,” Damian said giving you one last kiss.

3-2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years beloved,” he said with a kiss. Damian had grabbed another two glasses of punch and you two touched them in cheers.

“No sir,” Alfred said sternly, taking the glasses from your hands. “No alcohol for either of you. There is juice on the other side of the table.”

You waited until Alfred walked away before laughing. “They should have labeled that better.”

“That explains why it felt overly warm in here earlier,” Damian said thoughtfully.

The music had changed to overly sappy and people were kissing and dancing far too close. They were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had been drinking all night. Damian looked at them in disgust.

“Want to go upstairs,” he asked. You quickly looked at him. “Not like that. We can watch a movie or something, anything away from this.”

“Sounds great,” you said and you both left.

Jason

I’m fairly certain I’ve seen him in a suit like this in the comics. I considered him saying FU to Bruce and showing up in boots and black leather jacket. But Jason knows he looks good in red. And he’d probably get a kick out of wearing one of his suits he wore as Red Hood to a fucking gala. Bruce would know.

—————————

“Princess, if you make me wait any longer I’ll kick down the door and physically carry you to the damn party,” Jason said with no malice in his voice. You opened the bathroom door.

“Not all of us look good without a little work,” you said playfully tapping his chest. You yanked his tie straight with a little more force than needed.

“I’d have to disagree, doll. I’d honestly prefer you in nothing,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“How does it look?” You said with a twirl.

“Like a million bucks. That ass. Let’s skip the party and-“

“No no no. Let’s get going. You can be handsy later,” you said grabbing your purse.

“Promise,” he asked as you both left. The roads weren’t too bad with ice and in fact, it was going to be a rare dry night in Gotham.

Jason didn’t do pictures. He hated them and so you both parked in the servant entrance and walked in a side door. It didn’t matter. The Manor was beautiful no matter how you looked at it. And being a poor kid from Gotham, you couldn’t believe you were actually at a party in Wayne freaking Manor.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just a bunch of shitty rich people in pretty walls. They aren’t any better than us. Hell, worth half of you, sweetheart. Let’s get a drink,” he said pulling you to the drink table. It was pretty packed but he muscled through to the front. He got your preferred drink. “And a whiskey on the rocks.”

“Don’t get drunk,” you whispered to him. “I won’t sleep with you drunk.”

“With a finger of water,” Jason added to the bartender who nodded.

“Good save,” you said turning to look at the floor. You sipped your drink and people watched.

Dick and his date were dancing some quick steps in the middle of the floor. No surprise there. Tim was talking to boring business men and his poor date looked absolutely bored on her feet. Alfred was watching Damian and his date from the corner of his eyes whereas Damian seemed completely oblivious with his eyes on her all night. And Bruce was currently heavily flirting with a woman who literally meowed at him. You resisted the urge to gag and turned back to Jason.

“Wanna dance,” Jason asked casually watching the floor. But you knew he wanted to dance because he asked.

“Yeah,” you said grabbing his hand. He pulled to to the floor. Jason was also trained to dance as all the Wayne boys had been. But he was probably the worst dancer out of all of them. His parents had never taught him anything as nice as dancing and he’d only lived with Bruce for a few years before the whole Joker thing. But Jason was a natural athlete and his dancing was still pretty darn good.

The dance was a bit slower than the one Dick and his date had been dancing to earlier. Jason held one hand on your waist and the other stayed in your hand. His dancing was visibly polite and innocent. The words he whispered in your ear were far from.

“Is it hard being the hottest woman here? This dress on your ass is fucking delicious,” he whispered and you flushed at his words. “I can’t wait to fuck you in it later.”

He really enjoyed saying things that were completely naughty in public where you could do nothing about it. But you knew that if he kept it up, you’d be finding a spare room before New Years even came. And you didn’t want to miss the fireworks again this year.

As the song ended, and you thoroughly turned on and scandalized, you asked him to walk in the garden with you. Lover boy needed something to cool him down.

“Sure, Princess,” he said snagging 2 glasses of punch on the way out. You both walked between the flower beds and he told you stories of things that had happened there. “And that’s when Dick accidentally cut the top foot off of this bush. Alfred had him scrubbing floors for a month,” Jason said with a laugh. “It was so bad that there is still a rule of no swords in the garden. Damian hates it.”

“I bet he does. But he could probably destroy the entire garden with a pocket knife,” you said with a laugh. Jason suddenly pulled you to the side with a hush. He motioned over a ways.

“Speaking of the kid, look over there,” Jason whispered. You looked over to see Damian making out with a girl his age. It was so weird to see him being so sweet. “I didn’t know he felt human emotion, much less find someone his age to makeout with.”

“They could have said that about you a few years ago,” you said slyly.

“Yeah, point taken. Want the best view of the fireworks?” Jason said.

“Where?”

“Top of the roof.”

You blanched at the idea. “No thanks. I choose life.”

“It’s safe. There’s a ladder and everything,” Jason said hugging you from behind. “Best view in the house. And if not, dinners on me.”

“Jay, you get the check every time,” you reminded him. He chuckled.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get a pretty girl alone to give her a kiss,” Jason said pulling you to the roof. You flushed. “Unlike demon boy making out in the garden. I have class.”

“You’re a classy lady. Show me the way before I change my mind,” you said. He took you to a ladder over the library. You pulled off your heels and started climbing.

“Don’t worry I’ll catch you you if you fall Princess. I’m right behind you. Did I mention your ass in this dress? I kinda have the perfect view,” he said. You rolled your eyes before throwing your leg over the side of the roof. Jason quickly followed you.

“Here, wear my jacket,” Jason said throwing the red blazer over your shoulder.

“Oo my knife now,” you said feeling in his pocket and pulling out a sizable switchblade.

“I forgot to take it out of there. I wouldn’t touch it too much,” Jason said taking it out of your hands with a grimace. You gave him a look.

“That’s incredibly gross. Seriously. Do I even want to know?”

“Not really. Look at the stars. You can see them through the shitty Gotham sky,” Jason said sitting on a box. He pulled you into his lap and you were grateful as it was really quite cold. You could see some stars and you leaned your back against his chest and looked up at the heavens for a few minutes.

The music stopped downstairs. It must be almost midnight. You couldn’t understand but you heard Bruce talk over a mic. Then everyone started counting.

3–2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years, Jaybird,” you said turning your head and holding Jason’s jaw. You leaned your head up and gave him a kiss. He held you close and you made out until the sound of a firework had you jumping. You laughed before turning to look. The roof really did have the best view.

After a few minutes of watching the fireworks you heard some lewd noises. Jason looked over at a window near your spot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said with a disgusted look. “That’s fucking Tim’s room and the sound of him getting laid is literally the last thing I want. What I do want is to take a bite out of that ass I’ve been looking at all night.”

[bratkook]

girls in bikinis. (m) kth.

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: smut, pwp word count: 5.3k warnings: exhibitionism, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, creampie, he fucks her in roller skates okay and its light and playful author’s note: this came to me as i washed my dishes and listened to this song by poppy and idk what possessed me to write this when i have 2471819 other wips i should be focusing on but i hope u enjoy it lmaooo

As the sun beats down on Taehyung, beads of sweat trickling down his neck while he cruises on his long board along the concrete path right on the beach, he doesn’t think he regrets encouraging your new hobby more than he does right now

You see when you first voiced your desire to learn to roller skate Taehyung had found it endearing, even going as far as purchasing the skates for you as a surprise because you had been so excited watching videos online of other girls gliding around.

When you finally got them and slipped them on, stumbling around like a baby deer discovering they had legs, he thought it would be an adorable hobby. Seeing you bundled up with your knee pads, matching elbow pads ready to catch your fall and a helmet strapped tightly under your chin.

It all screamed cute.

But your determination had set it, constantly practicing out on the sidewalk or in the shoddy parking lot of your apartment complex, not caring how many times you bruised your tailbone with your nasty falls until they slowly minimized.

Soon enough Taehyung had stopped providing you ice packs and comforting words when you took a tumble and instead he had begun to watch in awe as your strides got more confident, no longer afraid to apply pressure onto your toe stops when you caught some speed, mixing in some cool spins as you skated around him in circles.

With that added confidence came the fact that you no longer needed to be wrapped up in safety gear as extensively as you used to be which is what landed him in this situation, watching you glide along beside him with the skimpiest outfit on.

This no longer screamed cute, no this entire thing was currently shouting sexy in his head so loud it was a surprise no one around him could hear it.

Taehyung swallows down a groan when you push out so you’re ahead of him now, the scrape of your wheels mixing in with his own. His eyes trail up your body, seeing how your legs glimmer in the sun thanks to the body oil you had lathered on before you, making your entire body look like its glowing.

The expanse of your legs are out for the world to see and he’s almost positive if you bent over just slightly he’d catch a peak of the underwear you currently had on because these black cut off shorts were purely for aesthetic purposes.

Its not until you whirl around on your skates, gliding backwards with your arms and head bobbing along to the music you had blasting from your phone in your back pocket, that his eyes zero in on your tits. Taehyung can’t hold the groan back this time, not with the way he sees them bounce and jiggle with each stride of your legs, only being caged in by the tiniest triangle bikini top you had so graciously slipped on.

He knew you did this on purpose, did this just for him, color coordinating your orange top to match the suede of your skates and passing it off as a cute notion. Taehyung had gotten drunk a few nights ago, and with the added alcohol came the slip of his tongue, confessing how hot he thought you looked as you rolled around and how much hotter you’d look if you did it in just your underwear.

You, being ever the people pleaser, weren’t going to let him down. Of course you weren’t clad in your bra and panties but this was definitely second best and when you catch his dazed out expression it proves you right.

His foot mindlessly keeps pushing himself forward, coming back onto his board robotically to continue the glide while you shimmy your chest at him tauntingly.

“My eyes are up here.” You quip teasingly, your hand coming up to rake through your hair as you shoot him a dazzling smile. Thats when he finally blinks out of his daze, meeting your eyes with a cheeky smile on his own face.

“Oh I know,” he shrugs, rocking on his board as he glides side to side, his wheels kissing the edge of the path each way as he does so, “prefer staring at your tits though.”

A snort leaves you at his comment, swirling back around to face forward, slowing your pace down until you’re once again right beside him. You turn your head to look at him, smirking when you see him staring at you already, “Figured, that’s kind of why I wore this.”

“Ah,” he sighs out, his hand reaching forward to grab your own in a sweet notion as he matches your speed, “so I fell into your trap?”

The soft laugh you let out makes the horniness that's clouding his brain clear up, paired with the fact that he can no longer see the way your boobs bounce with every crack on the floor, he has a moment to cleanse his impure thoughts. 

“Yeah, it’s all going according to plan.”

Taehyung laughs fully at that now, his eyes crinkling up as he smiles, his ash blonde hair being fluffed up from the wind and the speed at which he pushes off the floor, “Oh yeah?”

A small hum is your only response, mimicking his movements and pushing forward once more to make room for bikers approaching you, once again giving him the glorious view of your ass and legs. 

“And how does this plan of yours end exactly?”

You spin around once more, the action smooth and nothing at all compared to the way you struggled months ago, your hand still grasping his own as he helps guide you from any oncoming people. There's a glint in your eye that he can’t pinpoint but he knows its trouble, it usually always is with you. 

“With you fucking me.”

His brows arch up at your lewd comment, how you said it so nonchalantly, almost as if you were discussing a grocery list. His balance falters slightly as he wobbles on his feet, your hand being the saving grace that stops him from face planting onto the hot cement. That would definitely sober his filthy thoughts up just as quickly as they came, nothing like good road burn to help him stop sinning.

“Well let's go then.” He chokes out, ready to drag you to his awaiting car, maybe you’d let him defile you in his backseat if you were this horny but you shock him once more when your shoulders shrug. A playful frown on your face as you look behind you, your eyes focusing on the surrounding buildings, “Why?”

“What do you mean why, you said you want me to fuck you or am I reading this all wrong?”

Another laugh bubbles out of you, the sound sweet and angelic as if you aren’t currently thinking of him rearranging your guts in the unholiest of places 

“Oh no, I definitely want you to fuck me but why leave?”

That’s when the realization hits him, his eyes widening up as his mouth drops open when he understands just what you’re suggesting, “Here?”

A simple nod is sent his way, your smile widening when he looks around in exasperation, almost as if he can’t fathom that you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you in any location. “But we’re in public!” He hisses out, his cheeks warming up to a blush and its adorable. 

“So, I’m horny and I want you to fuck me. Are you game?”

As adventurous as Taehyung was, he'd never, ever, fooled around in public and as much as he wanted to, the fear of getting caught and possibly being thrown into jail always stopped him. But the way you look right now is making all of his logical thinking go straight into the gutter and he can’t find it in himself to care, not when he can see this whole thing play out in his mind.

With every blink of his eyes he sees flashes of you, pressed against the side of a building as you moan out his name, the feel of your oiled up skin against his fingertips as he grips into your hips and fucks you from behind, the thrill of having to keep quiet.

He feels his cock spur to life in his shorts and that is absolutely the only convincing he needs to make his feet come down with a thump, haphazardly hopping off of his board and yanking you to an abrupt stop, his hands having to catch you before you topple over from the force of it all. 

“Hell yeah I’m game, but if we get caught it’s all your fault.”

He wastes no time scooping his board up and tucking it underneath his arm as he takes off, dragging you behind him while he hauls you off the bike path and onto the crowded boardwalk. His grip on you is secure as your wheels wobble on the uneven path, his pace speeding up when your laughter reaches his ear. 

A smirk spreads onto his face as his eyes bounce along each building, determined to find a location good enough for your rendezvous. The small whispers you send him make him feel like you’re a little devil perched onto his shoulder, luring him into making the worst decisions with the best outcomes.

“You gotta be quiet Y/N.” Taehyung whispers with a laugh, his hands placed on your ass, pushing you into the small alleyway between two buildings you had both deemed good enough for the scandalous act you were about to perform.

You have to bite your lip to prevent teasing words from slipping through, your heart was currently pounding in your chest as reality hits you, not believing just how easy it was to convince Taehyung do to anything involving sex.

It’s almost comical how he rolls you deeper into the small hiding spot, his board slipping from its spot under his arm and landing on the floor in a loud thunk. The sound echoes all around you but he can’t focus on that right now, completely ignoring the scowl you send his way after he had just shushed you into silence.

“You gotta be quiet–” You mock him, the end of your words being muffled out when he slaps his palm over your mouth, a taunting look on his face as he pushes you against the brick wall. The heels of your boots thud against the building as your back presses flush against it, the gritty texture of the wall digs into your back but any complaints you have get stuck in your throat when you see the look in his face, your breath huffing against his hand, the tiniest smile creeping onto your lips.

“Don’t worry about me baby,” he whispers out, his face inching closer to yours. His eyes sneak a side glance towards the opening of the alley way, seeing the occasional person walking past blissfully unaware that the two of you were tucked away in here, “unless you want people to see how desperate you are for my cock you need to keep that pretty mouth of yours closed okay?”

A stiff nod and a hum against his palm is all you give him, your eyes staring straight into his as he takes a moment to ogle you. His gaze trails down your neck, onto the swells of your chest covered in the tiny orange bikini, his head tilting slightly as he watches the rise and fall as you try to steady your breathing. 

“Nervous?” Taehyung teases, choosing now to remove his palm from your mouth.

“No,” you breathe out a laugh, resting onto your left toe stop as you sag against the wall, “I’m excited.”

Of course you were, this had been your plan after all. Get Taehyung so hot and bothered he’d do anything you asked and he had fallen right into your grasp, not that he had any complaints.

“You fucking minx.” He jokes, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss, the smell of the sunscreen he had slathered his face in invades your senses, it reminds you of summer and you know after today it’ll also remind you of this moment.

Your lips drop open as he licks his way into your mouth, groaning when his tongue slithers against yours. Your arms hook around his neck, tugging him closer as he lightly licks the roof of your mouth before pulling back with a hum.

“Gotta be quick yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, letting his hands grip your sides, his thumb softly rubbing your waist on his way down to the button of your shorts, “hurry.”

The bouncing wheels of skateboarders whizzing by a few feet away has you gasping in excitement, Taehyung shooting you a wink when he catches the thrilling look on your face at the prospect of getting caught, “You got it.”

Taehyung pops the button of your shorts open, the sound reaching your ears, aiding in the small rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The metallic scrape of your zipper being yanked down joins the air, his long fingers dipping into the waist of them and tugging them down your legs until they catch around your knees from the way your thighs are spread out.

He eyes the tiny pastel orange panties you chose to wear, your entire outfit being carefully thought out for this exact moment and it makes him chuckle under his breath, he really had fallen right into your trap. 

His fingers toy with your underwear, following the edge of it as it curves into your inner thighs, a shiver wracking through your body at the ticklish feeling, a slight detour being taken when his thumb presses into the damp patch decorating the front of it.

A wiggle of your eyebrows is sent his way when he eyes you teasingly, “Who would’ve thought you’d get this wet just thinking about me fucking you out in the open.”

“Please, I get soaked just thinking about you doing literally anything.”

He knew that much to be true, taking pride in being the main reason your panties were ruined.

Its not until the sound of people talking reaches his ears that he remembers he needs to hurry up, the idea of being caught was definitely hot but actually getting caught wasn’t so he once again grips your hips and turns you around.

Your heavy wheels clank against the ground at the change of position, your hands gripping the rough wall to keep you steady as he moves you, the rolling of your wheels only making him laugh.

“Uh, you’re gonna have to lean on your thingy to stop from rolling.”

“My toe stop?” You tease, putting pressure on your right foot to help stabilize you as he places a palm on your back, his fingers tracing the ties of your bikini top as he pushes you forward.

“Yes you smart ass.”

With you no longer rolling back onto him he deems himself ready to continue, his palms roaming over the smooth expanse of your exposed ass. You had clearly covered your entire body in that damn oil, not leaving a single area bare of the jasmine scented liquid which Taehyung had now decided was his new favorite thing.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” You whine out, your hips jutting further back, not at all expecting the swift slap he lands on your left cheek. His large palm swats against your skin so hard it bounces off the walls, the gasp getting stuck in your throat when everything falls into silence once more, half expecting someone to peek their head in from how loud it had been but it luckily never comes. He soothes your warm skin with his palm, kneading your flesh gently as he bit his lip.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for me baby.” He scolds, his thumb hooking around your underwear and yanking it to the side, revealing your dripping slit to him. His other hand comes forward to let his fingers trail up your folds in a teasing motion, softly tracing up and around, not being able to resist teasing you further. When his index finger glides through your slick with ease his mouth drops open in awe, forever being prideful at the effect he has on you.

The small whine spills out of your lips when he slowly dips his finger in, enjoying the way your walls pulse around the tip of it before he pushes in to the hilt, starting a slow rhythm as he pulls out and thrusts back in, quickly adding a second finger and scissoring them inside of you to properly stretch you out for his cock.

“Mm Taehyung,” you sigh out, your head falling forward to rest against the cool wall as he continues to fuck you open. Each thrust of his long fingers has you keening, more of your arousal gushing out of you in excitement, becoming more and more desperate as he continues, “fuck I’m ready please.”

He playfully hums in thought from behind you, not entirely convinced two fingers would be enough for you to adjust to him. “I don’t think you are Y/N.”

The way your pussy clamps around his third finger when you feel the tip of a prod at your entrance proves his assumption correct, but he could take care of that. He knew you body well enough, having the motions down to a science. The way he curls his fingers, alternating between spreading them out and nudging against the sweet patch inside of you, it doesn’t take long until you’re fully relaxed in his hands, your hips rocking back into him at the feeling of being so full.

“There you go sweetheart,” he coos, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he focuses on the wet thumping every time his palm hits your ass when he thrusts into you. The softest moans fill the otherwise silent alley, your fingers desperately clutching the wall, no doubt scraping your skin but that was a problem for later on, right now all you could think about was how amazing Taehyung’s fingers felt inside your cunt.

“Fuck, nngh please Tae.” You plead, twisting your body slightly to crane your head over your shoulder, hoping the clear desperation etched onto your features was enough to have him whip his cock out and fuck you like you wanted.

Your wide eyes glimmer with unshed tears from frustration and he takes pity on you, slipping his shiny fingers out of your pussy and popping them into his mouth like second nature. As if you needed him to do more to turn you on he has to go and lick your arousal off of his digits like it was his favorite candy.

“Okay,” he murmurs out, undoing his own shorts and yanking them down just enough for his cock to spring free. The visual of it out in the open almost makes those tears pool over, his large hand wrapping around the girth of it as he lazily pumps his aching length inches away from you, “you ready?” He questions, bringing his palm to his mouth to noisily spit into it, using it to lube up his cock as he steps closer to you.

“Yes.” You breathe out, rolling your lips together as you face the wall again, your head hanging low as you wait, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

Taehyung steps in between your legs, keeping them nice and spread apart, yanking your underwear to the side to reveal your sodden folds to him once more. He licks his lips over as he guides the head of his cock towards your entrance, the slight pressure of it pressing against you has you sighing out, gritting your teeth together to keep from shouting at him to hurry up.

Finally, he eases his way inside, his bulbous head breaching your entrance, the stretch that accompanies it beating the feel of his three fingers from before. This was what you wanted, his thick cock stretching you apart and filling you up the way he knew best.

Taehyung holds in a groan when your walls tighten around him when he bottoms out, his hips fully flushed against yours, the two of you panting as he stills inside of you.

“You okay?” He whispers, his fingers moving to grip your hips once more to help ground himself as he waits for a response from you. The sound of more people approaching has your walls pulsing around him and he groans, “Fuck, of course you’re okay. You fucking love this huh?”

A small whimper of his name is all you let out, the idea of being caught in the act making the words stick to your throat, instead you push back onto him, urging him to move.

Taehyung takes the hint, a smile gracing his face as he slowly inches back, beginning to rock into you in a steady rhythm, his pace increasing every time you let a tiny moan slip out from between your grit teeth, a small reward for being vocal because he wants you to let anyone listening know it was him making you feel good.

“Answer me baby.”

The squelching sounds of his dick hammering into you fill the air, the lewd moans finally leaving you with no qualms about who could possibly hear, “Fuck, yes I love it.”

He hums in appreciation, his hips fucking into you with more force at your admission, new determination settling inside of him to get you to fall apart, not an ounce of shame remains at getting caught.

Taehyunt can’t lie, he knows he loves it too, loves the way you’re letting him claim you in public, the way your moans echo in the space you’re in, your hand gripping the wall. A squeal leaves your lips, mixed in with a breathless laugh, when he angles his hips just right.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts out, gripping your hips tighter when you squeeze him, “letting me fuck you like this. Want everyone to see that you’re mine huh?”

One of his hands curls around your front, trailing up your body until he reaches your skimpy top. He yanks the fabric of your bikini to the side, his palm squeezing a handful of your tits as he continues to thrust into you, the coolness of his palm contrasting with the warmth of your chest.

“Just yours, only yours.” You slur out, your brain turning into putty when his dick curves just right. The way his hand squeezes and tugs at your exposed nipple has your mind spinning, your body being jostled by his thrusts and in turn making the foot that remains flat on the floor roll back and forth from the force.

“Ah, baby,” he laughs as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipple, hearing a small hum in response from you, “you’re rolling again.”

Taehyung slows his thrusts, rocking in to you more calmly as you grunt in frustration, neither of you took into account how inconvenient fucking in roller skates would be.

“My calves are cramping from holding my feet like this.” You admit with a laugh, feeling Taehyung lean his head forward until it rested in the juncture of your neck, his soft breaths hitting your skin as he chuckled.

“Okay, here bring them down flat.” He guides you, holding you steady as you even out the weight on your skates, a tiny yelp escaping you when you begin to roll down on the uneven alley floor. Taehyung repositions his feet to rest right behind the skates to keep you from sliding further, an experimental thrust of his hips being sent your way to test the hold, “Better?”

When you no longer roll back, just bump forward slightly, you sigh in relief, “Yeah, so much better. C’mon keep fucking me.” You plead, your palm coming down to wrap around the hand currently groping your tits, urging him on and he listens.

“Whatever you want baby.” He mumbles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he pulls his hips back, rearing forward in a brutal pace that has you nearly shouting out. Your body hunches forward more freely now, no longer afraid of rolling away, instead your hand slides down the rough wall as you moan out his name.

His eyes catch on to the way you’re soaking his cock, leaving it slick and shiny with your arousal each time he pulls out. Taehyung feels like his mind is swimming, the whines of his name and the way you rut your hips back on him is the only anchor keeping him in the present.

He releases your nipple, trailing the hand down your front until it dips past your underwear and reaches your clit. Your reaction is instant, a loud gasp filling the air as your walls clamp down at the stimulation when he begins to rub tight circles on your sensitive nub.

“Oh god Taehyung,” you cry out, placing both hands on the wall and throwing your head back in pleasure, “you always fuck me so good.”

He grunts at your confession, the slight ego boost inflating his chest, the tiny licks of pleasure curling in his gut as he feels his release approaching, “Mm yeah? You’re creaming my cock baby, you enjoying yourself?”

Taehyung marvels at the way your back arches further, focusing on the way your ass bounces with every thrust of his hips and he can’t help himself when he delivers another harsh smack onto one of your cheeks, watching as the skin ripples and smarts at the slap.

“Ah,” you mewl, the sting of his palm sending tingles of pleasure up your spine. Your velvety walls pulse around him, always one to enjoy a little pain with your pleasure, “yes! F-fuck, I’m close Tae.”

He can tell, the way you’re sucking him in further every time he pulls out, desperate to keep him buried to the hilt, “You gonna cum like this? Gonna let everyone hear what a filthy girl you are?”

The taunting tone of his voice has your stomach tightening, the small coil of pleasure winding up inside of you with every roll of his hips, every deliberate flick of his finger against your clit. Your head turns to the side, having a clear view of the opening of the alley way, seeing the occasional person walking by. You never thought you’d enjoy the thrill of this as much as you did but the oncoming release you feel is evidence enough that you were thoroughly enjoying yourself.

“C’mon baby, let everyone hear you.” He groans out, a smile gracing his face when he hears the way you instantly do as he says, lewd moans of his name bouncing off the wall as you edge closer to your release. “Good girl.”

Your walls spasm around his cock at the praise, a few more flicks of his finger paired with his length expertly hitting your g spot every time is all it takes for your orgasm to crash over you. Your head falls forward, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as your mind momentarily blanks, every nerve in your body lighting up as you come undone.

“Oh fuck–“ your moan dies in your throat when your body tenses up, small shocks coursing through you as he continues to roll your clit, enjoying the small twitches your body gives him.

Taehyung gasps when your walls tighten even further around him, his hand retreating from your clit to firmly grasp your hips to continue fucking you through it, seeking his own release now, grunt of pleasure escaping his open mouth and reaching your ears.

“Shit,” the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy is what sends him over, his thrusts getting sloppier until hes surging forward, his cock twitching as he pumps his hot cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim with a sigh of your name.

Your forehead rests against the cold wall as you try to catch your breath, the pounding of your heart can be felt in your ears as you come down. The breathy moans of Taehyung get closer as he tucks his chin over your shoulder, still buried deep inside of you.

“That was...so fucking hot.” He confesses, a wide smile spreading across his face when he feels your body vibrate with laughter.Carefully, he slides out of you, the both of you groaning at the loss of contact.

When Taehyung pulls away and slips his softening length back into his shorts, his eyes stay glued to the way his cum coats your folds, slowly dripping out of you. That was totally unacceptable so he gathers some of it onto his fingers and stuffs it back inside you before he readjusts your underwear to fully cover you, sliding your shorts back up your legs and helping you spin back around, readjusting your top with a grin.

“My legs feel like jello.” You admit when your balance falters, Taehyung having to grip your hips tighter to keep you from toppling over onto the gross floor.

“What can I say, my dicks just that good.”

He dodges the smack he knows is coming, a deep laughing filling the air as he ducks away from you, laughing louder when your horrible aim makes you wobble around.

“Tae!” You whine, an adorable pout on your face when he only laughs some more. Your arms cross over your chest as you stare at him with a slight scowl, “Help me.”

The smile on his face softens as he looks down at you, his hands trailing along your arms to unfold them and gently clasp his fingers around yours. “Of course I’ll help you baby.”

That satisfies you, standing up straighter now that he had a hold of you, “You think we can make it to the car without either of us face planting it?”

His eyes narrow in thought, the odds really weren’t in either of your favor but an idea pops into his mind, the curl of his lips indicating just how evil he was but you miss it, too focused on not catching your wheel on a pebble. Your legs were once again reminiscent of bambi and as much as he acted like he was unaffected, blowing his load in you had made his own legs feel boneless too.

“I mean, if we fall at least we fall together?”

Right, that seemed to be the best outcome but it was fine by you and way better than the two of you staying in this dingy alley way for much longer.

He leads you out of the alley, bending forward to pick up his discarded board before exiting the hiding spot and reentering the real world. It feels like you hadn’t seen the sunlight in ages, your eyesight spotting for a second before you adjusted to the brightness of your surroundings.

Taehyung uses that to his advantage, placing his board back on the floor as he stares at you, not yet noticing that he had let your hand go because the sun was absolutely blinding.

“I’ll race you to the car.” He shouts out, not giving you a moment to respond or argue about it before he hops onto his board and takes off, his foot pushing off the floor in a haste to win.

Your mouth drops open when you see him bolt, your brows furrowing tightly on your forehead, in disbelief that he had abandoned you after claiming he’d help you, “Asshole!” You shout after him, missing the way he smiles when the words reach his ears. With that comes the scraping of your own wheels as you take off after him, a small grimace on your face when you feel the way your ruined underwear sticks to your skin.

Soon enough you’re speeding right past him, your hair flowing behind you and the muscles on your legs flexing from the force of your pushes. Taehyung lets out another loud laugh, a change of position from earlier, this time you had fallen into his trap and everything was going according to plan. With you now a few feet ahead of him Taehyung can freely ogle at your body without a care in the world.

Checkmate.

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy (rewrite)

note: heyo, rewriting an old fic of mine. i hope to be able to rewrite all 5 chapters quickly. if you guys don’t like it, i won’t continue because its kinda dark and idk i feel like no ones gonna like it anyways. please leave feedback though, im on my knees begging for validation. also sorry if its ooc, please forgive me.

++ sorry the beginning reveals how rusty my writing is </3

(*** i wrote this as as a fem reader fic because it worked easier with how i wrote things.)

+ please remember that this is purely a way to get out my own feelings/struggles in a healthy way. also i’m sure this works better as a ship fic, but someone asked for this version so yeah :).

** mistakes are mine im too tired and lazy to proofread right now.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse, slight mention of domestic abuse.

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers

ch.2 | ch.3

[love, fragility, and the memories that eat us alive.]

meeting wanda changed everything for you. she wasn't like anyone you’d ever known. she was always kind, never quick to lose her temper or scream and yell at you for things you couldn't possibly control. she was warm, tender with everything she did.

your relationship with her was very new to you. it was much different in comparison to your past experiences — and you weren't quite sure what to think of it. there was no doubt that you appreciated her and everything she did for you, but you were still waiting for her to snap. it was almost like a need burning throughout your body. being able to grasp the idea that someone could ever really, truly be gentle with you was out of the question. in turn, you’d push all of her buttons, hoping that she would get mad enough and get it over with.

no one could really fault you for it. the steady stream of abuse was the nearly the entirety of your life, both physical and mental.

lately wanda was having to pick you up from wherever she could find you, most of the time in the alleyways of of bars you’d been kicked from.

once you were drunk enough (anyone really) you weren’t afraid to say the first thing that came to your mind, offensive or not – which meant it was no surprise when you’d been involved in fights. the alcohol numbed a majority of the pain anyway, so didn’t really make much of a difference to you.

with this happening so many times, you figured wanda would be angry with you – perhaps so angry she would find it within her to hit you. but each and every time wanda brought you home, she made sure you were comfortable before tending to your inuries.

what you didn't know was that being so worried for you all the time, every second of everyday, was beginning to take a toll on her. wanda only wanted to fix you, but you were making it more than difficult for her to do that.

she knew very little about your past, simply because you didn't like talking about it and she didn't want to push. but there was no denying the fact that wanda was curious.

sometimes she would ask questions, only between the soft moments the both of you shared. much to her dismay, most of her curiosities were turned down. on the rare occasions you shared brighter memories of your childhood, wanda would bookmark them in the back of her head.

no harm would ever come from her, but you didn’t know that. at least not right now.

too many times had your exes used the trust you’d so politely given against you. to be fair with wanda though, you shared only the brightest parts of your childhood. they were very seldom, but the ones you could remember were the ones you enjoyed talking about the most. 

despite her limited knowledge, it wasn’t hard for her to tell that you’d already been hurt plenty of times before. apart from the fact that wanda was overall truly a good person, it made her even more gentle with you than she’d ever been with anyone before. 

on top of that, wanda wasn’t stupid. she picked up on every little flinch you tried to hide, or the times you had to ask her if it was okay if you could do something on your own free will, and she definitely didn’t forget about the countless times you berated yourself over small, humanly mistakes. a frown never failed to decorate her face when these things happened. 

wanda tried her hardest to make it known how much she loved you, and how she would never intentionally hurt you. she never once lifted a hand on you or raised her voice in the slightest, even when she felt like she’d met a breaking point.

the last few weeks seemed to be putting more stress on her than usual. the gashes on your body seemed to be cutting deeper and the bruises on your jaw and rib cage were beginning to turn a darker shade of indigo as each fight became more aggressive. your knuckles had been swollen, irritated to the point your hands trembled when your palms were held open.  

you completely missed how drastically wanda’s mood had changed. she became quiet, seemingly lost in thought most of the time until she needed to take care of you. she grew tired, a purple tint claiming a spot below the lip of her eyes. fifteen pounds of weight had shredded from her body and her head grew dizzy every time she stood up. none of that mattered to wanda though, you were her number one priority.

alcohol was the biggest issue in the way. if wanda could get you to stop drinking for just one night she might be able to reason with you. 

the brunette knew that was out of the question though, because she knew no matter how many times she told or expressed her love for you, you wouldn’t stop until you wanted to, not when she wanted you to. 

you never allowed yourself to be vulnerable around her, so she never knew how you truly felt about the things going wrong in your life. there was an unbearable amount of pain when it came to confronting what you tried so hard to push away. the idea of allowing yourself to heal, to mourn the things taken away from you caused a lump in the back of your throat. living in denial was the easiest way to cope - that was as long as you could bear the damage it created.

 (and whether wanda knew it or not, knowing that you were causing her so much misery was the worst feeling you’d ever faced. all she had ever given you was love and in return she was met with destruction.)

so once again you found yourself walking alone, a slight stagger between steps. it was cold, each breath exhaled from your lips could be seen vaporizing into the air. every movement ripped what balance you thought you’d gained right out from underneath you. the feeling of numbness in your fingertips brought your attention away from the fact that you didn’t know where you were. 

the buildings all looked familiar, but everything was hazy. being drunk wasn’t always the fun everyone bragged about. too tired to carry on, you found yourself slumped in the back of an alleyway next to a dirty garbage bin. it reeked of sour, expired food, but you’d given up on caring about anything else other than trying to drink yourself numb. 

your mind began to wander. flashes of early mornings with wanda’s hands wrapped around your waist, breath tickling the back of your neck while the sun began to rise started filling your thoughts. the warm feeling wanda gave you outweighed every bad emotion you could possibly think of.

but as you stared at the ground beneath your feet things began to spiral. your throat contracted, the guilt you tried so hard to swallow began clawing its way out of your body.

(and holy fuck you could not deal with this right now.)

you curled your head between your legs in an attempt to shield yourself away from something that was born from the inside.

it was too much.

without a chance to stop what was happening, your stomach began heaving. a mix of bile and alcohol drooled from your mouth as you continued to vomit.

you missed the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. the feeling of a hand on your shoulder caused you to jerk back, slamming your back into the brick wall.

“hey, hey, it’s me. you’re okay. it’s just me, wanda.” she cooed.

through teary eyes, you looked up at the woman in front of you.

she’s your girlfriend.

(but you weren’t sure that you deserved to call her that after everything you’ve put her through.)

“what are you doing here?” your voice wavered as you wiped your mouth free of excess vomit. you sniffled backing away from her.

she tilted her head, desperate to read what your eyes would give away. “i’m here to bring you back home. can you stand up for me?” you shook your head. you were too exhausted and dizzy from the alcohol to even think about standing.

“that’s okay,” she whispered. “here, i’m going to pick you up, okay? wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my hips.”

“mkay.” your speech was still slurred, but at that point all wanda cared about was getting you home safe.

you didn’t remember the ride home or wanda carrying you out of the car to lay you on the couch. by the time she got the supplies she needed to wrap and tend to your wounds, you were completely passed out.

when you woke up you were greeted with a glass of water and an over the counter pain medication. you swallowed the pills and moved to set the glass on the coffee table, but wanda beat you to it and took it out of your hands. she smiled down at you, taking a seat next to you. she tucked your hair behind your ears, giving your face one last gentle stroke.

thats when you noticed her eyes were red.

you immediately sat up, crossing your legs and moved closer to her. you’d hoped to comfort her somehow, but the shake of her head broke sonething inside you.

you bit your lip, anxiety shooting throughout your body. she sensed your nervousness and took your hands in hers, rubbing circles on the outside of your wrist with her thumbs.

“i love you, you know that. at least i hope you do,” she let out a soft laugh. “but i can’t keep doing this.”

your heart dropped, and you could feel the all too familiar feeling of guilt building its way back up. you tried to speak, but wanda cut you off.

“i need you to hear this.”

when you didn’t respond she took the opportunity to continue saying what she needed to get out.

“i have exhausted myself to a breaking point. i can’t keep worrying about you every single night you’re gone. i can’t be there every time you need saving. i’m losing myself.”

she paused to check and see how you were handling her words. for once you weren’t shutting down. you were genuinely trying to process what she was trying to say.

(and she was so proud of you for that. she almost considered giving you another chance. but she knew for the better, she couldn’t do that. not to you, not to her.)

“i’ve packed your things. you can leave tomorrow morning if you wish, i don’t mind having you for another meal or two.”

she squeezed your hands and got up from the couch, allowing you to take in what she said. it was in that moment when you realized that even when she’d finally drawn the line, had enough, she didn’t yell at you. she wasn’t angry, she was just sad.

you were chasing after something that wasn’t there, and it never would be there.

and now you were able to register just how much you’d fucked up the one good thing in your life.

[tobi-momo]

A Comfortable First Date :)

@awmahleebakugou said:

okay so i’ve never asked before (god i hope your requests are open, i’m sorry if they’re not) but i found you just now and your writing gives me life. i hope i’m not missing any rules, but i wanted to req a kind of first date scenario (the date can be your choice but i’m thinking something out of their comfort zone that the reader kinda eases them into having fun and they actually end up having a good time) with bakugou, todoroki, and dabi. a fluff type thing with a fem reader. they don’t have to be all in one, they can be separate but i really wanted to see your take on this with bakugou. thanks for your time, and i hope you can do this req cuz i love your writing :)

a/n: dflhgdfjhgdfkjgh you make me malfunction omg- i jut started writing a couple weeks ago and to hear that you love my writing makes me smile so hard kfsdjgdfkjg omg ty <3 and, lucky for you, my requests are def open and feel free to come back any time! (if you do want to see my rules tho here’s a link: rules<3 (you didn’t req anything out of my comfort zone tho so dw )

Pairing(s): Bakugou x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff :)

Warnings: cursing, youre uncomfy for a lil- but it gets better- FLUFF SKDJGFJSD dabi’s is SO mf short im sorry skhgdlfg

A Comfortable First Date :)

Bakugou:

Man are you glad yall came with ya friends-

You were excited, but anxious. you have never been on a date before, let alone the one and only bakugou katsuki, so ya. you were nervous asf

On the ride, the radio played loudly while you rolled the window down and caught the warm breeze in your face, you were just wildin out in the car, making katsuki laugh in hopes of relieving some stress

when you arrive, it was a different story. there were so many people and the water was dark, and this is gonna be his first time seeing *this much of your body. Your nerves were not helping

“Yo, Y/n, you nervous or somethin’?” Calls Sero, averting your attention from the packed beach

“Uh, no, not at all,” you smile walking over to the trunk of the car, picking up towels

kirishima and mina walk together to find a spot, denki and sero leave you and katsuki alone and immediately start throwing the frisbee around

‘god this was so awkward’ you thought, although it really wasnt, it was just in your head

“Here, give those to me,” katsuki whispers as he takes the towels from your grasp, taking notice of the way you rub your fingers together, the way you keep looking at the ground

He can tell that youre unsure, but he knows that you wont be like this for long- i mean- its bakugou, right?

once yall get to your spot, kirishima and mina catch up to you guys, talking about whats more manly yall cant convince me they dont do this- im convinced mina teaches him how to drink his respect women juice although we know he drinks plenty

You dont even have time to realize katsukis arms around your things, picking you up and throwing you on his shoulders

You play smack his back, laughing and yelping at the same time while he runs towards the water

“kastUKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING??” all he can respond with is his laughter before he sets you down gently in the water

“What, you thought I was gonna throw you or somethin’?” he smirks

“Uh, YEAH? I DID! You scared the crap outta me, babe,” you laugh off, the water suddenly feeling a lot better than you thought it would

He’s still laughing, almost gripping his stomach while kirishima and mina join sero and denki with the frisbee

The face he makes when you splash water on him is-

hmmm

How do i say it

flabbergasted? no. thats a weird ass word. He was like that tho

His face was like 😂 > 😳 > 😶 > 😐 > 😑 > 😐 > 😏😈

yk? yk

He splashes back

hard

so skip to an hour later when you guys are tackling each other in the water holy shit this is soft i cant

yall are having a mf BLAST and yall ended up playing beach volleyball too- have yall seen the episode in avatar where azula, mai, ty lee, and zuko play beach volleyball?

ya basically that but yall actually have fun and its more playful- but yall DESTROY the other teams

you guys end up staying longer than expected and you sleep in the car on the way back with his hand on your thigh but shhh

Todoroki:

ok, this may be dif because i believe movie dates are awkward asFF and i just jfhfkg ugh yk

but anyways~

yall arrive to the theatre, buy your snacks and get your ticket ew ew ew ew

and you literally dont know what to do-

where do you sit? where do you put your hands? what do you do for the rest of the movie? all of these questions filled your head when you guys entered the room, it was empty

great.

You guys take your seats, the commercials starting while you guys start small talk

you and him make fun of the trailers while you guys are literally sitting down like 🧍🧍

So awkward even though yall are talking- like, who takes popcorn first, who gets to put their arm on the middle rest? just overcomplicating everything in your brain

until a skittle falls down your shirt sorry if you dont like skittles but cmon their skittles

coming out the bottom of your shirt, you pick it up, then look at shouto’s soft, playful smirk before he looks away like he didnt do anything

that cheeky bastard

so, you throw it back, knocking his head then falling down the seat to the ground 

he looks back at you with and incredulous expression- not a serious one, but a look of sarcastic surprised

when his hand grabs popcorn out of the bucket, your eyes widen and you quickly leap out of your seat, running out of the isle and up the stairs to the top row of seats, being chased by shouto, and eventually trapped in the corner before getting a face full of popcorn

“Shou!” you laugh out, and you can hear the faint sound of his giggles piercing through yours

Your hands are placed on his chest, and his have dropped down your forearms, holding you in place while you laugh into him

“What?”

“There’s popcorn in my hair now,”

“Oh,” he takes a gentle hand and takes the popcorn out of your hair, tossing it to the side

“This place is a mess now,” he adds

You just laugh it off, taking notice of the fact that the movie has already started

“Shou, the movie,” you point, him turning around to the big screen

“The movie’s boring”

“It’s barely started!” you chuckle

your voice was interrupted by more popcorn hitting your face, and Shouto holding the bucket

“You did not just do what i think you just did.”

“Maybe,”

“I’m gonna get you back for that!” you shout as he starts to walk back to your seat, you grab the box of candy and quickly open it, pouring everything on his head before rushing down the stairs to the other side of the room

lemme just say yall were kicked out PFT JSDHGFSDKJHF

ok but yall didnt care shsdlfsfg

you hung out more after that too, not wanting the day to end :)

Dabi: 

why 

on your first date

would you go

CLUBBING??

like- why??? 

when you arrived, you really do be FINE AS FUUUCKK and everyone is thirsting over you periodt get into it

and when you see him, his eyes widen, admiring your figure

you just smile bc you’ve never been to a club before and set your bag on the counter, taking a seat at the bar next to him

what do you do? are you supposed to order something orrrrrrr? are you supposed to talk? are you supposed to dance with him? like wtf

the most awkward feelings are making home in your stomach

just before you could rush off, his hand grabs yours, making your head whip up for your eyes to meet his, silently reassuring you

You smile before he stands up, and leads you to the dance floor, guiding you with your hips to the music

you place your hands on his shoulders, letting him sway you to the beat, before you turn yourself and dance on him, forgetting your problems

he smirks, running his fingertips down your back while you move your hips on him

after a couple drinks you guys were clicking, like really, really, really, clicking and you felt good

so did he, and he wanted to know you more, so after a couple more dances and drinks, yall were giddy and shi 😏

And yall decided it was time to get to know each other more😏😏😏

when you guys woke up with a hangover, you made him breakfast and yall talked ab everything under the stars omg yall are made for each other istg

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

thats it im sorry dabi’s is so short i just chugged rosé and im hanging out with friends be happy <3

taglist: @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @combat-wombatus @katsuhera @zerohawks