#please note the significance of the last clip

[veleci]

Forever and ever

[thebellekeys]

A strong suggestion of plagiarism: Detailing the similarities between Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewels trilogy and Sarah J. Maas’s ACOTAR series

Anne Bishop released her The Black Jewels trilogy between 1998 and 2003. It is a dark fantasy book trilogy, part of a larger fantasy saga within the world of The Black Jewels. Sarah J. Maas released the first book in her A Court of Thorns and Roses fantasy romance series, which goes by the same name, in 2015. This popular series of Maas is still ongoing.

For the last decade, many individuals have noticed glaring similarities between Maas’ fantasy series and Bishop’s earlier books. From character names to world-building elements and plotlines, several readers have concluded it is highly possible that Sarah J. Maas has plagiarized major aspects of Bishop’s work in the ACOTAR series. For purely legal reasons, I am hesitant to say outright that Mass indeed plagiarized The Black Jewels in ACOTAR. However, I do believe that there is very strong evidence indicating that Maas may have done so. Please note all my screenshots here are all from The Black Jewels and I can provide more if necessary.

This post presents my observations of the similarities between Maas’ book series compared to Bishop’s trilogy. Indeed, there are several elements that are near-indentical in Maas’ series compared to Bishop’s. Whatever is in brackets is my shabby-MLA-esque way of referencing in which specific book you can find the content I'm talking about. I am aware others have made similar posts on Tumblr and Reddit, and I salute them! Here, I am merely outlining what I have noticed myself, and I imagine there will be significant overlap between his post and others online.

The Eyrians and the Illyrians

The Eyrians are a winged warrior race in TBJ, described as having tanned skin, black hair, gold eyes and "batlike wings". They are one of the long lived races and live thousands of years, based upon a lofty mountain range in their realm. They are a warrior race with a long history of physical fighting, often reputed to be "backward" by aristocrats in their realm (DOTB, HTTS). Their "dark, membranous" wings are the prized physical feature among their race and they have a tradition of turning to militarism and barbarism during skirmishes (DOTB). Cutting off or clipping an Eyrian's wings is the greatest torture and the worst dishonour for a warrior (HTTS). The Illyrians in ACOTAR are a virtually identical winged mountain warrior race with a similar culture and physical features including "black, membranous" wings and tanned skin (ACOTAR). The Eyrians, like the Illyrians, yearn for freedom of their expansive mountains and the war camps within them.

Eyrian males are raised to be warriors in hunting camps in the mountains, while females are forbidden from touching weapons and are confined to domestic pursuits. Eyrian women are often mistreated and are usually expected to be docile and subservient to their militaristic males (QOTD). This is the same gender construct present among the Illyrians in ACOTAR.

The Eyrians in TBJ carry prejudices against half-Eyrians, similar to the Illyrians' prejudices against "half-breeds" like Rhysand in the ACOTAR series (ACOMAF). The word “half-breed” is actually used to describe an important half-Eyrian in TBJ, Lucivar Yaslana.

The Eyrians have a practice known as the "Blood Run" which is a rite of passage taken by skilled Eyrian warriors in their mountains, rather similar to both "Nephelle's Run" and the "Blood Rite" which we learn about in ACOWAR and ACOSF respectively.

Powerful Illyrians, like Cassian and Azriel, use siphons—colourful, jeweled gauntlets that channel and hone their magical power. This is eerily similar to the way aristocrats in TBJ use jewels to channel and concentrate their power. The Illyrians also wear fighting leathers while the Eyrians wear black skintight leathers to go to battle.

Lucivar Yaslana and Cassian

Lucivar Yaslana is an Eyrian male who commands a large portion of the Eyrian troops. He is described as a "bastard", both as an insult and a jest in TBJ, because his father and his mother were unmarried and he did not grow up knowing his father who’s the High Lord. The same situation is pertinent to Cassian in ACOMAF whose "bastard reputation" precedes him.

In QOTD, Lucivar begins training Eyrian females to defend themselves and fight military-style, which is a radical move in the realm and receives a lot of push-back from fellow Eyrian males. Lucivar wants to make sure the Eyrian women tap into their strength, at least a little, to prevent them from being helpless when under attack or in battle. There's a few heartwarming training montages in QOTD where he whips them into shape. Cassian leads a similar initiative in ACOSF where he trains Illyrian women so they learn to defend themselves and some even become respected warriors.

Lucivar has gold eyes, big wings, big muscles, shoulder-length dark hair, and light brown skin. Cassian also has gold eyes, big wings, big muscles, shoulder-length dark hair, and light brown skin. Lucivar ultimately reports to the authority of his queen and serves her faithfully just as Cassian reports to authority of his High Lord and Lady and serves them faithfully.

Daemon SaDiablo and Rhysand

Daemon SaDiablo of TBJ was forced to serve as a sex slave in the court of an evil priestess, Dorothea of Hayll, and he has experienced a lot of trauma and pain for hundreds of years due to being forced to serve in the bedchamber of this abusive enslaver. Rhysand similarly serves as a sex slave to Amaratha for 50 years when she builds her court Under the Mountain. In TBJ, the evil queen who conquers the realm through cruelty and corruption, Dorothea, enslaves multiple males to serve her in bed and she even banishes Lucivar to land's brutal "salt mines" when he becomes disobedient. Daemon is known as "Hayll's whore" by the public in DOTB just as Rhysand is known as "Amarantha's whore" by the public in ACOTAR.

Daemon has jet-black hair, golden skin, and a frighteningly beautiful face. Daemon is also known as a natural Black Widow, one of the one only male Black Widows ever in their world. As such, Daemon is one of the most powerful males in all the realm. Rhysand, similarly, has dark hair, a stunningly beautiful face, and has unique powers making him the most powerful High Lord. Daemon, like Rhysand, becomes the highest ranking male in his "Dark Court" and he is also the main love interest (QOTD).

Daemon has a habit of putting his hands in his pocket when he's nervous and/or trying to intimidate people. Rhysand has the same habit. Daemon is feared for his sadism and power in TBJ but is, deep down, a good person and a devoted lover, similar to Rhysand’s persona being much crueler and sadistic than his real personality (ACOMAF).

Daemon originally starts seeing the protagonist of the series, Jaenelle, in his dreams and he recognizes while enslaved that she is the realm's salvation (DOTB, QOTD). Rhysand also begins seeing glimpses of Feyre in his dreams while enslaved Under the Mountain and he knew she was Prythian’s hope (ACOMAF).

Wingspans

We know that in the ACOTAR world, the wingspan of an Illyrian male is supposedly proportional to their, yunno, male parts. This is also the case in The Black Jewels where, in the second book, we learn a male's wingspan also corresponds to the size of his… down there.

Scents and gender

In TBJ, magical figures have the abilities to identify or smell another person based on his or her "psychic scent", which is their unique scent. The psychic scent also allows them to sense the magical abilities, emotions and traumatic experiences of other persons. Romantic couples also have a keen awareness of their partner's scent. This is the likewise the case in the ACOTAR world where mates and fae can identify and read each other based on specific scents including their arousal.

In TBJ, you can put up a "psychic shield" to stop someone from peering into your thoughts and reading you through your psychic scent. It's the same in the ACOTAR world, a concept introduced in ACOMAF, where you can put up a mental shield or barrier to stop someone like the daemati from breaking into your mind.

The males in TBJ can become quite territorial and possessive over their women and mates, almost animalistic based on their emotions. They purr and snarl and growl quite often, and Sarah J. Maas uses identical descriptive language regarding the bat boys.

Dragons and Amren

There's an older female character called Draca in TBJ who is a dragon in human form, trapped in a human body. Draca, who serves in the main character's Dark Court, has to decipher old texts in the TBJ because she is the only one who understands the ancient languages they contain. Draca is referred to as the "ancient one." This is exactly like Amren being known as the little "ancient one", a powerful angel in human form who is the only one that can decipher the Book of Breathings in ACOMAF.

There is a "creature" deep beneath the Keep and library of the High Lord of Hell in TBJ who, in HTTS, turns out to be a mighty dragon whose name is Lorn. Likewise, beneath the library in Velaris lurks Bryaxis who is a dangerous dragon-esque creature (ACOWAR).

Other worldbuilding plotpoints

There are “High Lords” of various realms in The Black Jewels and High Lord is not a traditional feudal title throughout history or mythology. One major character in TBJ is the High Lord of Hell, Saetan SaDiablo. His court, and that of his adopted daughter, is known as the Dark Court or the "Court of Darkness". Rhysand is the most powerful High Lord who presides over the Night Court which is also, in many ways, Prythian's own Court of Darkness.

The Dark Court in TBJ has a "first circle" that is comprised of the queen's most trusted courtiers. Rhysand's Court of Dreams in ACOMAF also has an "inner circle".

Jaenelle is known as "Dreams Made Flesh" because of her immense power and ability to deliver her lands from evil. Jaenelle was a saviour-figure who was dreamt up by the "dreamers" in her realm who were suffering and oppressed for many years, ruled over by cruel queens (QOTD). Likewise, the Court of Dreams and Feyre's defeat of Amarantha were, more or less, the product of dreamers who wished upon the stars (ACOMAF). Just like how Feyre possesses the power of all seven High Lords, Jaenelle is the magical figure to possess the power of all the various colored jewels in TBJ.

There is a character named Prythian in The Black Jewels who is a powerful priestess, and the main land that the ACOTAR series is set in is called Prythian. There's also an assassin-prostitute character in TBJ named Surreal, and the Suriel is character in the ACOTAR series.

The sigil/seal of Janelle's Dark Court in TBJ, we learn in the second book, is an image of a mountain with a unicorn’s horn above it. The main sigil of the Night Court in ACOTAR is a mountain below three stars. The vastness and freedom of mountains are a motif in both TBJ and ACOMAF.

Conclusion: There are others online who have pointed out the similarities between The Black Jewels and the Throne of Glass series, but it’s been many years since I read Throne of Glass and I’m rusty so I won’t touch it. Did Sarah J. Maas rip off Anne Bishop’s work? I think it could be proven in a court of law, but I’m quite hesitant to say outright that she’s guilty of plagiarism. Is Sarah J. Maas guilty of serious unoriginality? Yes, definitely. A preliminary search online will tell you that Sarah J. Maas has openly praised Bishop’s writing and she has even said that Lucivar is her favourite fantasy man of all time. Bishop's books were released when Maas was a teenager. Make of this what you will.

I’ve used a variety of tags on this post because, honestly, I’m not sure whether it falls into the “anti” category of posts or not. I think this post neutral in tone and exists just to catalogue the similarities between both series. I hence believe both fans and antis might appreciate it... for different reasons.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Three months after the 2024 election, three major news sources STILL don't agree on the final presidential popular vote count.

Given that it is now January 2025, I figured all the states must have finally finished counting their 2024 presidential votes--including some of the slower Western states. (I'm looking at you ���� California.)

So I thought I'd check in with three major sources of voting information: The New York Times, The Cook Political Report, and CNN Politics, to see what the final presidential popular vote tallies were.

The Numbers Are STILL Slightly Different

What surprised me is that these three major sources of election information are still not in full agreement about the presidential vote counts.

Granted, the small difference between the highest (NY Times) and lowest (Cook Report) vote tallies for each candidate are small and not significant: 1,631 votes for Harris, and 1,576 votes for Trump.

Nevertheless, given that some states were won by laser-thin margins, it is still concerning that these three election news sources have three different tallies for both Harris and Trump.

Sources Please

Unfortunately, neither The Cook Political Report nor CNN listed the source of their vote tallies nor when they last updated their figures. At least the Times listed their source: the Associated Press, and noted that they had last updated their figures on Dec. 30th. It would be helpful if all major election information sources did the same.

No Logical Consistency in the Tallies

Given that the Times reported higher tallies for both Harris and Trump than were reported by The Cook Report and CNN, one might think that the latter two sources stopped updating their vote counts sooner than the Times.

The problem with that hypothesis though is that The Cook Political Report's tallies were actually higher for the TOTAL popular vote than were the Times' tallies: 155.2 million vs. 154.9 million, a difference of 0.3 million (or 300,000) votes. (Unfortunately, CNN Politics didn't report the total popular vote count.)

And if that was not confusing enough, the Times indicated that 100% of the votes in all the states had been counted (even California)--and yet, they also noted that their total popular presidential vote count of 154.9 million represented > 99% of the vote--NOT 100%.

Imagine If All Votes Were Hand Counted😳

Consider that these relatively minor discrepancies in the vote tallies occurred with electronic ballot counting.

Could you imagine how inconsistent the vote tallies would be if those hundreds of millions of votes were counted by hand--like Trump and some of the GOP want?

Pure chaos!

______________________ Note: All images were modified from their original sources. "Where are the results?" gif source, "Numbers" gif video clip source, "Check source" gif video clip source, "Winona Ryder confused" gif source, "Counting votes 1" source, "Counting votes 2" source, "Pure chaos" gif video clip source

[nightmarearian]

finally got this digital and all neat <3

boothill hair-headcanons! I did some (admittedly short) research on indigenous hair traditions & cultures (x).

A bit too tired to paraphrase rn so direct quotes to get the main points: > "believed that a person’s long hair represents a strong cultural identity" > "As part of the practice in self-respect, we are taught to take good care of our hair through proper grooming" > "adorn their hair with fur wraps, woolen wraps, feathers, fluffs, and bead work for war dancing and ceremonies" > "common to see family members and friends brushing and braiding hair for each other. > "we don’t cut our hair unless we have experienced a significant loss, like the death of a close family member, traumatic event or significant life change." > "When we do have to cut our hair, it is never to be thrown away, but rather, burned with sage or sweetgrass in a ceremonial way. When our hair is burned, all of our thoughts, prayers, dreams, aspirations, experiences, and history rise to the Creator to be properly taken care of." > " hair embodying so much of who we are, boundaries are important. Touching someone’s hair without permission is disrespectful in the Native community."

With that, looking at canon Boothill... I decided that at first he straight up just. Did not have the time to cut and burn his hair at first, and by the time he did he. Couldn't. (He’s dead anyway. Everything on his is dead anyway, so it doesn’t exactly count right now…) (he should be ashamed. He is. Being so fuckin selfish and one of the last of Aeragan-Epharshel and he making a mess of their culture). (He really should. He should stop being selfish but he can't let go of his memories of them and he's sorry, he's so so sorry, please he knows he's nothing more than a fuckin husk he's sorry he's sorry he's sorry-). (Going off of my other boothill art,) He loosely braids where a few of them would usually be, but comparatively it's too loose and he doesn't have as much feathers or sweetgrass or fur anymore but it's as close as he's ever going to get anymore so it'll do.

If any of this is inaccurate, really sorry and please correct me! :)

Text (Sorta. In order of my thoughts, all that, and then some): Aeragan-Epharshel "Boothill" (tesswehas) > had thick, soft, black hair -> current hair is thinner from lack of care + general consequences of becoming mechanized. -> Marie-Antoinette Syndrome + stress turned the majority of it white. > Tight & neat braids (w/ feathers, sweetgrass, fur) -> Family braids his hair & vice versa (-> Consequently, Boothill can't braid his own hair as well as he could someone else's. The difference in doing it to someone else vs. oneself, and all that) > Around~a bit longer than waist length -> Might've gotten a bit shorter when getting mechanized.

Post killing Oswaldo (a few months) > Cuts it a while after killing Oswaldo (while the power vacuum and all the extra stuff that comes with killing a head of department) -> Especially the braids/where the braids would be & the black parts. -> (his hair's all white now). > Burns it with sweetgrass > Additionally (not on drawing), He's tried to tie it back, sorta; It's a bit too short so he uses hair clips and stuff. It's at like mid-neck length. > His red bandana was his little girl's baby wrap. (yk those non-descript cloth wrapped around a baby).

-> (Eventually*) -> *meaning Argenti & Robin are able to keep Boothill from joining the rest of his family + heal/take care of himself > He lives long enough to grow it out. About shoulder length. > He usually has four braids (A/R/Sv/C), all with a few different ornaments. -> Side note, usually I guess one would get their hair braided with their associated accessories (if that makes sense???) but Boothill wants accessories based on his loved ones, so he has a little something. (Still doesn't have enough feathers, either). (Braid Dictionary): Each person's Ornaments, from Neatest -> Messiest: > Argenti(Tied w/ R): Vines & Roses > Robin(Tied w/ A): Metal/Fake flower ornamets (3); They're based of her halo. > Sunday*: "haloes"/rings > Clara (Tied w/ Sv): (Brass) Bolts & sometimes (uncommonly) fluff/fur, or flowers. > Svarog (Tied w/ C): (Steel/Silver) Bolts & Nuts > Hook: Usually doesn't have accessories, but the messiness & bits of dirt/grime (/aff) is enough of an indicator. Sometimes she can "braid"/tie string or smth. + Possibly aventurine? depends. -> neatness-wise would be around Sunday-Clara's; Accessories would be straight up jewlery, yk?

Bonus: Boothill (Makes the absolute neatest braids). Doesn't actually leave much accessories unless asked (Will be encouraged by A or R) -> would be feathers or sweetgrass; The children get flowers too. -> Bullet shells would be like bolts but he doesn't really want to give bullet shells to anyone. If he really wants to, it usually ends up in Svarog's ornament-strings/fur.

Ext. : > Boothill would give Argenti and/or Robin waterfall braids a good amount of the time. > Rose braid either from or to Argenti, to or from Boothill or Robin. > Boothill & Clara braid Svarog's coat's fur + give him strings of accessories.

Ext. Not in Drawing: > Between Robin & Argenti, Boothill gets around to taking proper care of his hair again :). > Sunday eventually joined in per Robin's request (as long as Boothill was okay with it, of course), and he found it calming & also just a good way for these two to bond. > Boothill keeps in his braids as long as he can, until it really has to or he meets the others again. > I only draw Robin, Argenti, Clara, & Svarog's braids in the final-post killing Oswaldo, so Sunday's would probably go behind Boothill's ear, next to Robin's. Hook's goes around the side, near Clara's. > Guess it was sorta implied with the neatest to messiest thing, But Argenti & Robin have the most clean braids, Sunday near close - his perfectionism/idealization is getting to him a bit - Clara & Svarog both have some troubles. It's like. Average-good? Not expert but not bad either. Clara's is a bit messy, and Svarog has some trouble with his bigger, mech-hands. Hook has the messiest. For obvious reasons. Little menace <3

> Oh also Don't think I ever specifically mentioned it but implied open/poly relationship between Argenti, Robin, Boothill & Svarog. (Argenti X Boothill X Robin, Svarog X Boothill). Think that's it. 👍

Original paper sketchpage:

[kittythegengarmonarch]

Some OC news in case any of you care.

There's actually quite a bit of future updates I feel like sharing with you when it comes to my characters, my art, etc. So, I would like to talk about it here.

OC News

Firstly, apparently, I've been drawing my Cookiesona, Mallow Cake Cookie's front hair (except the bangs) incorrectly, meaning I haven't been drawing it the way I've been aiming for. (The 'Bobin' on the second slide of this but with a more frosting-like look to it. I suspect the link is not the original work, and if you know where the original art is, please tell me so I can give proper credit.) As a result, I will be fixing her design a bit to make it look more realistic to the Cookie Run style, and have her hair live up to expectations.

On the note of Mallow Cake Cookie, I'm thinking of changing the hair clip as well, specifically the color. This is because of the hair clip contrasting with the simple color palette. Plus, my dumb ass also remembered that the blood and strawberry moons exist. Other than that, though, there's not really gonna be any significant changes on Mallow Cake Cookie, but I'm still forming up her story and personality. I'm looking forward to you all seeing the nature of the Littlest Beast. ^^

Next, a group of OCs I made in 2022 will be getting redesigns, as they will be getting a bigger role in my artworks in the future. I'm still trying to figure out who their leader is, or if they work for themselves. We shall see.

Also, three new Super Mario OCs are in the works. First and second out of the three, the designs that are almost done, are a set of Duplighost twins, Castor and Mimosa. Castor is the happier of the two; a mischievous jester of a Duplighost who loves to perform and play tricks on others. His sister Mimosa on the other hand is on the more negative side, having a sappy face and a soulless disposition; but she finds herself at comfort with her dolls that she always holds. All I need to do left is their colors, and I'll be ready to show them off. (They've been in the works since JULY, and they NEED to be finished.) The third of the OCs is pretty simple. A Queen Peepa. No more needs to be said. I love Peepas, and I need to remember they exist. lol

Back to Cookie Run, I will be making a protege for Mallow Cake Cookie, named Orchid Moth Cookie. I have a lot of things in mind for them, and I'd like you to help me with some. Again, I still need to figure out a couple of things with Mallow Cake, before I work on Orchid Moth. But I will tell you this; they are very close and are willing to go all out for each other. And yeah, Mallow Cake's pretty much Red Velvet's morality level, but I'll get to that in the future.

I'm saving probably the most controversial for next to last, as I feel that it's more than necessary for me to do it. My Pokesona, Kitty will be getting yet ANOTHER redesign. Not even an "I'll think about it" anymore. This is confirmed. Not even the last redesign, Kitty's design didn't feel like me. I went from basic to overly complicated (because of the stupid mood bow) in seconds, and I'm nowhere near happy about it. Hell, the design to me now might scream Clefairy or Clefable or whatever, and I've been having anxiety about that. I will be making Kitty feel more like things I like, while also making her feel truly like a Gengar. To make things fairer, Callie, Bunny, and Pretty will be getting redesigns as well. On top of that, I will be making a new and improved watermark for my digital pieces. A less complex watermark than the original for sure.

And finally (for the OC part), I will be making myself a truesona because yes. I'm having quite a bit of fun making her design, and I'm very excited for you to meet her! ^^

Art

As many of you know, I have been making less art. Also, I plan to be making more changes of it, as to contradict the pressure I put onto myself on DA.

I plan to be drawing more for myself, prepare designs, practice, and whatnot. Hell, I might even be self-indulgent and feed my stupid, fucking, overcomplicated macrophilia. (SFW as always of course; plus, G/t's a comfort thing for me, and anyone who actively shames this will be mercilessly blocked.)

So, to sum this shit up, art's going to be more of a hobby for me on social media. I will still be trying to involve art of some fashion in my future career though, as it is something I enjoy doing.

Two New Sites!

As a means to store my characters at least, I have made an ArtFight account (which I plan to start filling up this Spring) and an UnVale account. I might have to temporarily reactivate my account so I can get most of my OCs settled there. (I say most because there's some that aren't the greatest.)

That's all I have to share! Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. lol

-Kitty/Stelle/Mallow

[happypopcornprincess]

Call It What You Want || Chapter 3

Note: The story is set somewhere in 2018, pre covid, before Yei won the world champion. A lot of Oyei, Yak and Cher's backstory has been my own creation. Also some new characters are also purely fictional.

Please do not repost or reupload this story as your own.

Series Masterlist

---/---/---

SIX months Later

“Keep going, keep going!” Yei held down Yak’s legs as he struggled with the sit ups.

“P’Yei…” Yak groaned in defeat and laid down on the gym mat.

Getting Yak out of depression had been quite a task. He had lost a lot of weight, and his eating habits were uneven. Yei would have sent him to a therapist if he had the finances, but right now, he bought Yak at the gym, hoping the physical activity and post-workout meals would jumpstart his recovery.

“Oi Yak!” Yei slapped his leg to make him get up, but that stubborn kid would not give in, “Don’t you want abs for senior year! Stop whining and do another set!”

“Five-minute break. Pleaseeeee?” Yak stretched out his words, clearly on the verge of dozing off.

“P’Yak.” Cher entered the gym right when Yak was getting ready to give Yei a piece of his mind.

“Oh, Cher.” he left Yak splayed out in the middle of the gym to go talk to the new manager of his gym, none other than Cher.

Cher had been a godsend. With his help, Yei transformed the dusty warehouse into Phadetseuk Gym, a Muay Thai training centre. Cher poured a significant amount of money into the project, and his faith in Yei didn't stop there. He also pushed Yei to start renovations on the house they were living in. Together, they'd already modernized the bedrooms and the kitchen. Yei vowed to repay every cent, but it was a little unnerving how much Cher believed in him. It was almost as if Cher trusted Yei more than Yei trusted himself.

Yei hired some of his struggling friends as trainers, and after only a few months of the opening of their gym, they now have twelve clients, the first one being Cher himself.

Cher was a quick learner. Though skinny, Cher possessed raw strength – a valuable asset in Muay Thai. His days were split: mornings dedicated to Muay Thai training, and afternoons spent managing and promoting the gym's growth.

Cher proved to be a natural. He grasped the fundamentals of Muay Thai in a surprisingly short time. Despite his thin frame, Cher possessed raw strength, a valuable asset in boxing.

Most importantly, Yei witnessed a blossoming confidence in Cher; a brighter glint in his eyes after training for self-defense. When before he would always wear trousers and long sleeves even though it was forty degrees outside, he has now started wearing shorts with some kind of graphic tees or bold coloured shirts. Honestly, they fit his personality way better.

“I have both good news and bad news.” He said, smiling.

“Okay.” Yei listened, folding his hands.

“So, good news”, Cher jumped in excitement, “You qualified for the audition round for world championships!” Yei’s jaw was on the floor hearing this, “I had sent some clips of you fighting and training in the gym and had to write a lot of emails to consider you as a candidate, and they just emailed me back last night! You’re in!” He held Yai’s shoulders and shook him, laughing.

“Oh my god Cher!” Yai laughed out loud, punching the air.

“Now…” Cher took a step forward, his face now serious, “The bad news.”

Yai calmed down, and looked at him.

“The tournament is in three weeks.”

“What!”

“It will be the qualifying match. Three rounds. First knockout decides the winner. No rematch.” Cher sighed.

“Insanity!” Earth, one of Yei’s trainers, yelled loudly from the boxing ring, “Yei will have to start training as soon as possible dude!”

Yei sighed, looking down at his hands. He had been in touch with all the techniques and moves while training Cher and the others, but it was nothing compared to actually training for a boxing match.

Cher tapped his shoulder, “Don’t you worry P’Yei, we’ll help you get that world championship trophy.” He smiled, giving him a fist bump, “su su na, P’Yei!” (Thai - Good Luck, P'Yei)

His eyes crinkled with joy, his smile so intoxicating that Yei laughed too.

“Sure Cher. Let’s get going.” He followed Cher inside to find Yak sleeping soundly on the gym floor. He groaned in frustration; his brother had some superpower to fall asleep literally anywhere.

===

It was the morning of Cher’s first day at Muay Thai training. The early morning sky was still changing colors, and the tangent smell of rubber hanging in the air from the freshly unwrapped gym equipment.

He climbed into the ring, facing Yei across the canvas. Yak, still half-asleep in the corner, mumbled something inaudible. Yei cracked his knuckles, a familiar pre-training ritual. "Alright, Cher," he said, hands on his hips. "Show me your fighting stance."

Cher balled his fists, instinctively raising them to shield his face. Stepping closer, Yei gently reached for Cher's wrists, intending to adjust his posture. But Cher, startled, jerked back, his heart hammering in his chest.

Yei paused, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "It's okay," he said, taking a step back and lowering his own hands. "Look at me." He demonstrated the stance, his movements slow and deliberate, allowing Cher to observe and absorb the proper form.

Cher smiled to himself remembering his first day at the gym as he wrapped up his work at the gym office. He worked best late at night, hours designing banners and promotional posters for the gym. Yak would occasionally stumble in, sleep in his eyes still but eager to help. They would spend hours talking about everything. Cher never opposed Yak’s presence, even taking him on market trips wen they were free from work. It pained Cher to see such a gentle kid struggling through life.

Yei had confided in him once about Yak's downward spiral after their mother's passing. How he didn’t speak or eat for days, even when their father left, he said nothing. Yei would have to force him to eat food for days. “He was such a happy kid.” Yai once told him, “He is happy when he’s with you. I’m glad he has you as a friend.”

Cher noticed that Yei have a habit of thinking about everyone else before himself. He rarely spoke of his own struggles.

He cherished every moment he shared with Yei. During Cher's initial training days, his aversion to physical contact was understandable. Yet, Yei was patient, never forcing anything. He treated Cher with gentle respect, and knew he needed time to rebuild his comfort zone.

He was a kind man; he was struggling himself but was never late to pay his employees or help them. He loved Yak more like his son than a brother, he would do anything for him. Cher vividly recalled a night when Yak burned with a raging fever. Yei remained glued to his side until his temperature settled down until Cher had to force him to sleep, promising to stay with Yak.

A sudden jolt pulled Cher back to reality. He glanced down at the steaming parcel in his hands – Tom Yum Goong, Yei's favorite. Tomorrow marked the beginning of Yei’s rigorous training and diet, Cher wished to give this to him as a good luck token for the match. He went through the backyard to the house and knocked on the door just to find it open.

It’s midnight, why is the door open?

Yak would have been sleeping by now, he pushed through the front door and entered the living room. A faint shuffling sound emerged from Yei's room.

“P’yei?” he called out.

No answer. He called out again, but there was no answer. Cher noticed the door was ajar. Pushing it open, he was met with a sight that sent his heart plummeting.

Yei stood mere feet away, locked in a passionate kiss with another man. Both were stripped down to their boxers, the intimacy raw and undeniable.

“Cher!” Yai was frozen in place as he looked at Cher in shock. The other man, startled, turned, confusion clouding his features. His neck was littered with hickeys. “I… Cher…” but Cher didn’t let Yai finish, only thrusting the parcel at him.

He stepped back, “Sorry... I’ll go now.”

Taking long strides out of the house, Cher didn’t hear Yai calling him again.

He rushed to the office, taking a seat on the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the image of Yei and the other man, but it burned behind his eyelids. A confusing mix of sadness and anger welled up inside him. He knew, logically, that Yei being gay shouldn't bother him. In fact, a part of him had always suspected it.

He shouldn't feel a pang of jealousy at the intimacy, the possessiveness of the other man's hands on Yei's waist, or the kiss itself. He shouldn't be this devastated at the thought of Yei being with someone else.

So why did it hurt so much?

The question echoed in the emptiness of his mind, a nagging ache that only intensified with each passing moment.

===

Yei stared at the man sleeping next to him, the faint morning sunlight poured in through the open window illuminating his bare back. Memories of the previous night were hazy… A casual conversation at the bar, fueled by cheap drinks and loneliness, had spiraled into a one-night stand. The details were hazy, the man's name forgotten.

The only thing clear was the look on Cher's face when he'd burst into the room – a mix of shock and something deeper, something Yei couldn't decipher.

The man had dozed off after the second round, but sleep didn’t find Yei.

Shame coiled in his gut, tightening with each passing second. He hadn't planned for his carefully guarded secret to be so brutally exposed. Yet, relief snuck in his chest. The burden of hiding felt lighter now.

Then came the bigger question, a truth he'd long buried beneath himself. Something not even the closest to him knew.

Should he tell Cher he's gay? The question hung heavy as he took a cold shower that did nothing to dull his anxiety.

"He knows now," Yei muttered, the words hollow against the tiled walls. Yet, a part of him craved a genuine conversation, a chance to explain the unspoken attraction towards Cher, the yearning he'd suppressed for the sake of their friendship and Yak's well-being.

With a heavy sigh, Yei pulled on his training clothes. He couldn't afford to crumble. He had a responsibility to Yak, to the gym, and ultimately, to himself. Now, more than ever, he needed the discipline of Muay Thai, the focus it demanded.

He would do what he’s always done; face the situation head on.

---/---/---

"Cher." Yai lingered outside the office door, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

"P'Yei." Cher stood in his training gear, the loose tank top clinging to his lean frame. His expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions swirling behind his eyes.

"About last night..." Yai began, his voice tentative. But before he could finish, Cher raised a hand.

"I should apologize for barging in," Cher said, his voice surprisingly calm. He passed by him to enter the main area where the punching bags were.

"No, what I mean is..." Yai stammered, frustration lacing his tone.

Why wasn't this easier?

"It's okay, P'Yei. Don't worry about it," Cher interjected, his gaze shifting to the punching bags. With a practiced motion, he pulled on his gloves, the rhythmic snap of velcro a stark contrast to the turmoil within. He faced the bags, his back to Yei, before asking, "Does Yak know?"

Yei let out a shaky breath, the question echoing his own fear. "No."

Cher nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "You can tell him when you're ready," he said softly. "And I'm sure, when you do... he'll accept you for who you are." He turned back to Yei, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The dim ceiling lights cast a halo around him, highlighting the mess of his dark brown hair.

"If he doesn't," Cher added with a playful glint in his eye, "I'll kick his ass."

Yei burst out laughing. Cher's attempt at humour, despite the seriousness of the situation, warmed him from the inside.

"Come on! Don't you have training after this?" Cher nudged Yei playfully. "I have work to do!" He gestured for Yei to follow, his eyes lingering on Yei for a beat longer than necessary.

Cher chuckled, a genuine sound that banished the last vestiges of awkwardness. Together, they walked towards the heart of the gym, a silent understanding hanging between them.

He knew, with a certainty that surprised him, that he would follow Cher anywhere.

to be continued...

a/n: okay so I kinda missed this in the beginning but I imagined the side characters of this story as gmmtv actors and I totally forgot to mention them before.

Earth being played by... well Earth Pirapat [Him as Chief Phupa lives in my mind rent free I'm sorry] The unnamed character who hooked up with Yei played by Tay Tawan [idk I just thought Thor and him would look cute together hehe]

---/---/---

Series Masterlist

---/---/---

Taglist - @seoulmates98 @randomia-in-wonderland @fandomforever369 @nitorem

Comment down to be added to the taglist.

---/---/---

More Thai BL Fanfics

Tangled Fates: The Sign Series Fanfic A Phaya x Tharn fic about their past life as Sapuna and Wansarut.

[anthonybialy]

Football with Josh Allen and the Others 

I know of a team that can win because they have Josh Allen and hasn’t won despite having Josh Allen.  The inability of the Buffalo Bills to reach that championship game is unfairly yet inevitably linked to the last person in the universe who’s responsible.  Noting Allen hasn’t advanced is like blame Kate Winslet for the Titanic sinking.  Unlike several Bills, she wasn’t a real passenger.

Allen did enough in the same sense fans picnicking in the parking lot have sipped some ale.  Not everyone who’s technically on the same team can make that claim.  We’ve had ample time to mentally scowl at wide receivers who dropped quite catchable passes, defenders who didn’t tackle despite it being kind of key to the job description, and a kicker who better be spending the offseason re-learning how to aim.  I can say things the quarterback can’t.

Bills finally caught up with this whole passing trend.  Like rock and roll, it’s here to stay.  The quarterback’s prominence is unavoidable no matter one’s opinion on the percentage the position consumes.  Vince Lombardi lamenting that this one player category’s significance is a factual matter even if some wish there were a way to alter the imbalance.  The weighted importance is good news if you have Josh Allen.

There’s no use in condemning how the game is played by sides of 10 plus one.  Be glad if you’ve got a player who skews results even further.  Teddy Pendergrass deserved to be billed as the leader even though he played for the Blue Notes.  All teams can do is make use of the way the game is designed.  The Bills have only done so for a fraction of the team’s existence.  It sure was considerate of them to increase the joyousness of the present by deploying quarterbacks who struggled to hold a football for so long.  You’re supposed to grip the laces?

The Allen era makes up for all those seasons where other fans had to check who the Bills acquired to vainly attempt filling the post.  Taking snaps only technically makes one a quarterback.  Some previous vacancy-fillers should produce films about their stories because of their improbability.

You may have heard Allen is skilled enough at a particular game that he makes a comfortable living playing it.  Please keep watching if you want your hero to keep profiting off his most notable talent.  The selfless obligation helps pay his bills.  If you’re unacquainted with his uncommon talents, many social media platforms feature video clips that only look doctored.

A singular threat features multiple aspects.  Take away his targets and he’ll deem himself the carrier.  Prioritizing whatever option is best at that moment is a judgment call made by prudent captains.  Jean-Luc Picard will do so out of habit in a few hundred years.

Allen is already the best Bills quarterback ever, and it’s not particularly close.  Accounting for phases changes nothing.  Playing in a pass-happy time just means the numbers are even more in his favor.  As with every other evaluation of his impact, the best case is watching him play.

I have just been alerted about this squad’s lack of Super Bowl appearances, much less the high score in at least one of them.  The inability to will winning all singlehandedly finally brings us to the position’s limitations.  If it were possible, Josh would’ve done it.

There’s no way to speak too highly about everyone’s best friend.  The only person with more is Andrew W.K.  Routinely referring to him by his first name is a common habit amongst his BFF crew.  The familiarity reflects the politely introverted personality of the classmate who never gave a memorable answer.

The incumbent is the biggest difference between the Bills and Sabres.  The side wearing skates trails in a distant second.  The football division would be lagging if they drafted the other Josh.  Today’s sports scene may seem challenging, but imagine being jealous of the all-time playoff outcasts.

Frustration serves as the other notable parallel with the ice-based team.  Every hockey legend who never won it all while with Buffalo knows how he’s feeling.  That’s not even to mention Bob McAdoo.  Allen’s unique take in revolutionizing the game brings to mind Dominik Hasek’s uncommonly awesome career without the weird and aggravating playoff lapses.

It’s not to alarm everyone, but this often seemingly cursed club will never get a chance like this again.  You know what?  Go ahead and be alarmed.  Going to red alert may create useful pressure needed to halt squandering.  It sure doesn’t feel as if this franchise is dedicated to fulfilling the dreams of Buffalonians and what’s now several generations of their ancestors.  Terry Pegula’s indifference is palpable unless he’s bilking taxpayers.  

Everyone seeks a partner who gets them.  Ken Dorsey got dumped because he didn’t grasp his other half’s dark sense of humor or learn how he likes his coffee.  Replacing the immediate coaching supervisor might not reconcile enough.  Fans remain worried that Sean McDermott still doesn’t really get his guy.  His decisions feel like watching a Wes Anderson movie with your parents and trying to explain the quirkiness.  The French Dispatch is not as accessible as Wheel of Fortune.

Why feel urgency now just because Allen had yet another birthday last month?  Drafting wide receivers in the first, second, and third rounds should’ve been the first, second, and third priorities.  They dissented by instead opting for nothing with the initial chance.

An unbearably obvious need somehow hasn’t been prioritized.  Adding Dalton Kincaid was a nice start of a process that must continue at this draft.  Tight end has become a slightly bigger receiver.  The Bills are still forgetting focus on traditional deep threats.

There’s been a step up in getting crushed.  We experience the difference between annual disappointment at missing the tournament and annual disappointment at falling short during it.  Going .500 in the playoffs means making it five times, which is a monumental shift for a franchise that’s up to 23 of them.

It’s not that the organization has failed to win it all but rather that they’re perpetual contenders because of him.  Allen meets the true definition of the most valuable player.  Improvising while making rational choices is football at its best if everyone connected the Bills would like to not waste the best hope they’ll ever have.

[old-school-butch]

JFC why are you making me defend Israel?

I have lots of problems with Israel and am North-Americanlly torn about the whole idea of protective religous-ethno-states and the whole idea of any indigenous national claim to modern-day statehood, but will you please put more effort into not being brainwashed. There are so many nuanced discussions to have but step 1 is critically thinking about what you're hearing.

Source 1 - comes from Dawn news, huh. Who's that? Oh look, a 'news' broadcast from Pakistan. Do you wonder how that landed in your feed? I mean, do you normally read Dawn news for your information about global events? No? Think a little bit about the information war being conducted - someone wanted you to see this and that someone was probably not a person, but an organization. Also, the the most DAMNING statement they could get from the American-official-I've-never-heard-of-before was that Israel has released documentation supporting their claims and Hamas has not. Yes, you have to watch the ENTIRE thing to hear all that. It's 1:13 seconds, just hang in there.

The reporter-I-guess suggests sending in international investigators. No, Mr. America says, it's not appropriate. He doesn't say why (in this clip, remember there are always editors at work) but think about possible reasons. A ground invasion is imminent so the team is going into an active warzone, and for what? Israel has already released its sources. Hamas hasn't given any so I guess you're hoping they would send in theirs? They interviewed with the NYT and said all the evidence has evaporated. Well that sounds fishy, but you want to know, right? You're a skeptical, reasonable person who doesn't like the idea that information is being covered up.

Ok, so why are you swallowing this story about the bombing in the first place? What evidence convinced you? Think carefully because none has been produced. You're watching a terrorist media campaign. Did you even notice that your skepticism for the U.S. government is seamlessly connected to Israel? Read some history about this conflict and this entire area, it's incredibly interesting especially about how alliances have shifted over time and how many different factions there are.

Next step - we read the opinion of Noah-I've-never-heard-of and his theory about the REAL reason Mr America doesn't think an international investigation team makes sense. It's actshually because the UN Goldman Report from 2009 found something bad about Israel, which is why evil doers never go before the International Criminal Court and get the CIA (?) to prevent this, because it makes them look bad. Please don't skim past that wrangled logic - there's so much to unpack. So... Israel is so powerful they are never investigated, but we know from the 2009 UN investigation that they were bad. But now the CIA stops them I guess? Also, the U.S. is a proxy for Israel I guess, and they are basically one state despite a significant history suggesting otherwise.

Third screenshot - What did the report find? Well, that war crimes were committed in the period, which the screenshot notes. Committed by whom, you might ask? You have to read a little more to see it was by both sides. (But more so on Israel's - the occupation was truly a shitty thing and Israel was forced to finally end it in 2015, but it doesn't sound quite so definitive so the screencap uses 3rd person, passive voice to let you imagine the details). Anyway, go actually read the report. Or at least read the Wikipedia. Don't just let yourself fill in the empty gaps with supposition, because you are being drawn through an increasingly false narrative.

The last screenshot is some notes - we don't know who from - but it's supplied by the anarchistmemecollective because that sounds like a completely human entity, and the notes are supposed to be an anti-Zionist Jew providing legitimizing critique of Israel's genocide on your behalf. Don't worry - blaming Israel for genocide (it's mentioned twice in the notes and absolutely meant to put that word in your brain - again without any evidence, just the suggestion is planted... Israel-genocide). And you're walking away with what?.... Israel bombing, Israel bad, Israel genocide. You're accepting all of this vague truthiness without evidence, listening to highly motivated people working in an information campaign targeted at young progressive like yourself.

Look, Israel isn't bad because Hamas told you they were bad. Israel has its problems and has made many transgressions, but this particular war? Hamas started it and Hamas hasn't stopped - the rockets are still flying, their soldiers still fighting and hostages are still being held. Hamas didn't prepare or safeguard its citizens and is discouraging them from evacuating. The invasion (I watched the go pro footage released from Hamas fighters on Telegram channels) was an Einstazgruppen-level extermination event, only smaller by scale but not intent. The fighters approached civilians in crowds, at a bus stop, hiding in latrines, hiding under tables, in their homes - and machine gun them down. Hack at a few not-quite-dead people on the ground, toss a grenade in a room, burn some people alive, kill entire families. Sort out which women are for raping on site and which will be taken as hostages, and a few guys who definiately got the memo to make a photo op of them NOT killing an old lady in her own home. But the footage was brutal and raw, and they were proud of it just like Isis, before it all gets taken down. And then somehow the Economist interviewed the leader of Hamas who said no civilians were killed in their invasion which - I mean... it's incredible to lie that boldly with so much footage flooding the internet. I didn't realize when I watched the footage at the time that so much would be removed because it was 'too graphic' or 'too political' or 'violated policies' or I would have downloaded as much as I could. The start of this war was a brutal, personal and vindictive assault on Israeli citizens that was designed to trigger Israel's collective trauma about the Holocaust and pull them into war.

Hamas welcomes the deaths of its people. It plays well for them on social media. Don't cheer them on.

21 Oct 23

[removableveneersblog]

All you need to know about Custom Snap On or Clip in Veneers

If you're unhappy with the appearance of your teeth, custom snap on veneers may be a solution worth considering. These dental appliances can transform your smile, hiding dental imperfections and giving you a more confident appearance. However, if you're new to the world of snap-on veneers, you may have some questions about what they are, how they work, and what to expect. In this blog, we'll cover everything you need to know about custom snap on veneers.

What Are Custom Snap On Veneers?

Custom snap-on veneers are a cosmetic dental appliance that fit over your existing teeth. They are designed to be thin and natural-looking, providing an instant solution to a variety of dental issues, including discoloration, misalignment, and gaps. Custom snap on veneers are made from high-quality dental resin or acrylic, customized to fit your unique dental needs and preferences.

How Do Custom Snap On Veneers Work?

Custom snap on veneers are designed to be a temporary and removable solution to dental issues. To get started, you'll need to visit a custom snap on veneer manufacturer for a consultation. During this consultation, a dental technician will take impressions of your teeth, which will be used to create your custom veneers.

Once your custom snap on veneers are ready, you'll return to the manufacturer for a fitting. During the fitting, the technician will ensure that your veneers fit properly and make any necessary adjustments. Once the veneers are properly fitted, you'll be able to wear them right away. Simply snap them on over your existing teeth for an instant cosmetic solution.

What Are the Benefits of Custom Snap On Veneers?

Custom snap on veneers offer several benefits for those looking to improve the appearance of their teeth. Some of the most significant benefits include:

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The lifespan of custom snap on veneers can vary depending on the individual and how well they are cared for. With proper care, custom snap on veneers can last anywhere from 3 to 5 years or even longer. However, it's important to note that they are not a permanent solution and will eventually need to be replaced.

To extend the life of your custom snap on veneers, it's important to practice good oral hygiene. This includes brushing your teeth twice a day, flossing daily, and rinsing your mouth with an antiseptic mouthwash. You should also avoid biting or chewing on hard objects, as this can cause damage to your veneers.

It's also important to avoid consuming foods and beverages that can stain your teeth, such as coffee, tea, and red wine. If you do consume these types of foods and beverages, be sure to brush your teeth or rinse your mouth with water immediately afterwards.

If you're looking for the best veneers for occasional wear usages or the best clip-in veneers online, check out Removable Veneers USA  for the perfect solution for you.

[h2bakugou]

『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦  𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k

✦  𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦

Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.

Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset. 

You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.

The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.

You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him. 

Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.

And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.

You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat. 

“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.

“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.

“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.

“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.

“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.

“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.

As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.

“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.

“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.

“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.

“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.

“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”

“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.

“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.

“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.

“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.

“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.

“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest. 

You’re in awe.

“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.

Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.

“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.

“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.

You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.

“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.

“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-

“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.

“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.

“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe. 

“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.

But you get your answer soon enough.

“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.

“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out. 

“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.

Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.

“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.

“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.

He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.

Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.

You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.

It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.

“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.

“P-porn.” You stutter out.

“Oh.” Sero laughs.

“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.

You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.

So much for going in slow and easy.

You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.

You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.

And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.

And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.

“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.

“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.

“Are you alright?” 

“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.

“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes. 

“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...” 

“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.

“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”

“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly. 

Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.

“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.

It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.

Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.

But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.

And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.

“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.

And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku. 

Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.

And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.

"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.

"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.

"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest. 

"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.

"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.

"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds. 

The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine. 

"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.

"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.

"I-I can't take both-"

"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.

"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.

Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.

"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.

"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.

"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.

"T-that was-"

"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins. 

"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs. 

"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you. 

"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks. 

You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.

This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.

"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.

"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.

"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.

"I bet." Bakugou muttered.

"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.

"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.

The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.

"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.

"Sorry! I-"

"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.

Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.

"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.

It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.

Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.

"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.

Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.

"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.

"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.

Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.

Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.

Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.

Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.

"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.

"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.

Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.

"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.

"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.

"N-no!" You cry.

"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.

A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.

"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.

Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.

Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.

"Better?" He asks softly.

"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.

Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.

"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.

"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.

It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.

Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.

And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.

You. Were cumming.

Bakugou had taken your virginity.

And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.

It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.

"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.

"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.

"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.

"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,

"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.

Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.

Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.

It's so much, all at one time.

"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.

"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.

"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.

"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.

"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.

You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.

Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.

"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.

"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.

It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.

Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.

Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.

"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.

"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.

"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.

"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.

"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.

"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.

"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.

"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.

"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.

"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.

"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.

Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.

"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.

"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.

"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.

"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.

"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.

"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.

Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.

"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.

Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.

"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.

"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.

"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.

"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.

"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.

It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.

Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.

"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.

"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.

"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.

"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.

The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.

"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.

When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.

He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.

He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.

"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.

✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦

[natsukitakama]

Headcanon : Attention feat Kazutora Hanemiya

author note :  I was obsessed with this TikTok and couldn’t kick it out my mind, now I’m not sure if it’s actually his Seiyuu who is dubbed it but it sure felt like it. I can’t breath anymore lol. It feels good to be able to write ngl. Enjoy ♡ 

-->If you’re curious you can find the TikTok right here 

Warning : SFW but I can make a NSFW version if you’re asking for it / It’s not Spoiler-free so  if you didn’t catch up with the manga you’ll be spoiled I’m sorry but stay safe ♡ 

Masterlist

i do not own those pictures they came from Pinterest so credit to their owner

it's kinda short to my apologies I would do better next time

Kazutora Hanemiya 羽宮ハネミヤ一虎カズトラ

I can’t see him dating anyone before the time skip, even if we got proof that he was interested into people (we all see the way he was looking when he was at the beach). But during this time, he was a teenager more over he already a family, people who he cared about. He just didn’t feel the need to add a significant other, he has his family, he had Toman.

Now I’m not saying that he wouldn’t date anyone when he was a teenager but he was so focused on Toman on his family than I can’t believe he got time to date someone, especially since he was busy kicking ass with his friends Baji.

But no matter if you met him during his teenage, after he left the juvenile prison or when he left prison. You’re going to need some patience with him. He has lived a lot of things. He is still a broken man who is this close of loosing his entire mind.

I believe that I first you would be the only one working on this relationship, I mean you would do the whole flirty thing and at first he’ll barley interact with you. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel proud for your compliment and that he isn’t happy that you are interested in him. It just that everytime he felt close to someone, they either die or just left him.

He wasn’t sure if he was mentally, physically, emotionally ready for any kind of relationship

So yeah at first you would be the only to text/call first, you’ll be the only who is taking news might be the only one to think about where to go out together.

Most of the times you would feel insecure, after all he was so handsome maybe he just didn’t care about you ? Maybe you were bothering him ? Maybe he wasn’t interested in you and was just giving you a favor when he was answering back.

You would feel as if he didn’t care all as if your love was unrequited

But don’t worry about it, this situation wouldn’t last as long as you thought it would will.

His walls will finally shattered down and he’ll feel like he can finally be himself with you, showing you his insecurity, providing you all the love his broken heart got.

When this will happen, my my, you signed for the clingiest boyfriend of all time (top 3 at least)

I’m not kidding I just feel it, the boy got a lot of loves and needs to give and receiving (especially receiving).

You know those cliche movie where the boyfriend climb into your house so he could reach your bedroom ? He will do it, especially if he got free times and he felt lonely. Kazutora will just randomly climb into your bedroom and will knock at it with a lovely smile as if everything was normal (for fuck sake use the damn door baby boi).

He loves hugs whether he is the one who is been hugged of if you’re the one, either way he is fine as long as he gets close to you. Your warmth tends to relax him. He might even fall asleep if you’re stroking his hair or his neck (bonus point if you’re tracing the ink mark of his tattoo)

I feel like he loves kissing you too ? Like he just can’t stop kissing you ? He is an addict kisser. Like one day you were visiting him at the petshop dropping him a bento because you wanted to spoil your boyfriend. Even though he claimed to Chifuyu that he wasn’t tired 5min before you were here, suddenly he felt like he needs his 10min break. Guess who finds themselves being pushed against the wall as their boyfriends was kissing them deeply ? You. And he just didn’t kiss you once, no no that would be too simple, he will kiss you again and again one hand holding yours against the wall the other would be either on your cheek or on your neck. Good luck to find your breath after that. Believe me when I say that even when you were about to leave him so you could go back to school or whenever you were expected, Kazutora will take your hands in his to bring you against his chest to steal you a couple of kisses before finally leaving you.

Like I said he is an addict.

I can see him as the type to sometimes grab both of your cheeks with his hand and then kiss you, again and again.

He jus loves being close to you, so when you two are out for a date or just because you got the chance to meet him while you were going home. Kazu won’t hesitate and hold your hand stroking it with his fingers.

Holding hand is a minimum for him to best honestly

If he could he’d rather spend all of his time in your arms humming your smell getting warmth against you. But he can’t, so he is going to appreciate every occasion he got to get you close to him.

Since you’re his significant other Kazutora will be extra protector when it came to you, not afraid of threatening anyone that might be a bother to you.

Also he is jealous, he knows he shouldn’t feel like this especially since you’re always giving so much love and attention. But he can’t help but feel insecure, he knows what he is capable of, he knows his past, he knows what he has done, he is not perfect and certainly does not deserve love coming from such a piece of heaven like you. Yeah there would be time when Kazutora might be sad, feel down, and even though he’ll work on it so you won’t see it (afraid that you might be disappointed and will leave him) but you can tell that he is not feeling well.

Please, hold him tightly, tell him you love him, reminds him of much you cared about him, show him that there is no reason for him to be afraid. He just needs reassurance that you are here for good and that one day he wouldn’t wake up without you by side.

I just feel like he loves sleeping next to you, just the thought of sharing the same bed as him and getting the chance of waking up with you next to him is just his definition of heaven.

I also feel like is a tease, not on Mikey’s level, but I feel like sometimes out of nowhere Kazu will tickle you or whispering you something just to get to see your face turning red and then chuckle.

He is also the type to always give you his sweatshirt/coat, you don’t even need to be cold, if he noticed that you had been looking at his cloth or if you just compliment it boom its around your shoulder. It can be a way to show his possessiveness, like everyone would know that you belong to him who knows ? At least you won’t be cold.

He also the type to lay down on your bed and look at you with a loving smile, whether you were sleeping or not he doesn’t stop him from slightly stroking your cheeks bone, your cheek or even your lips loving the feeling of his hand/finger on your skin. It’s so smooth and soft he just can’t help.

Sometimes especially when he is sleepy, he will whisper things into your ear, kiss your all over your face.

A sucker for worshiping (do it for himself too)

Also he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, he might be not the first one to confess but once he knows that you love him. « I love you y/n » would be the first thing you will hear while waking up also the last thing before sleeping.

I think he might like the thought of you styling his hair even if all you’ve done was putting some cute clips on his hair he likes it and will even let you take picture. He is a sucker for your smile

Buy him jewelry and he will never take them off especially ring or necklace he just loves seeing you marking your territory.

As I stated before he is probably the type to overthinking a lot, like one day if you didn’t give the smile you used to give him, he is 100% you’ll dump him at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s not as bad as that, like you called him by his last name to tease him, he’ll just pout at you and then give you kiss all over your and won’t stop until you called him either by his name or by a nickname. But yes sometimes if you’re acting a little bit too cold to him he’ll think that your relationship is over, and will start to panic no knowing what to do to keep you by his side.

That’s the think with Kazutora he loves you more than he loves himself so he knows as a fact that he will be lost without you (not the only one to be honest but that’s for another headcanon)

So obviously you’ll need to be careful but since you’re still a human keep in mind to check him after if you’ve done something that let him think you guys were over.

Also, I can picture him to sometimes disappear. Like no one know where he is, not even you. He never left for too long (worst case : he leaves for a day), but sometimes he feels like he needs to be alone, like really alone. So he isolated himself for everyone, no one will know where he left, what he has done. But when he came back he always got that peaceful smile, the one where is eyes got nothing but regrets in them.

You feel like he spent his time in front of Baji ans Shinichiro’s grave, cause even years after this incident he couldn’t forgive himself for what he’s done to them. He can’t forgive him. Since he is lucky to be alive, sometimes he needs to see them in order to give him some strength in order to stay alive.

All the time when he is zoning out, you know he is thinking about all the bad things he has done to the people he cares the most, and even though he is working hard to be a better person what was done can’t be undone. Again hold his hand, stroke his hair do whatever you can to help him staying safe and not falling into his old demons.

Protect him at all cost.

Tag : @kshira

[withclawandvine]

what we pretend to be

Summary: Azriel was a veteran spy, well suited to the sneaking and solitude that comes with a life in the shadows. He was good at it. He wasn’t good at undercover missions, so he couldn’t hide his shock when new recruit and undercover specialist Elain Archeron was already seated at the conference table, looking beautiful as ever. And then it was dropped on them like a bomb: Azriel and Elain would be sent to the suburbs, posing as a married couple to get intel on a suspicious man who, according to intel, was in communication with notorious arms dealer, Koschei Sokolov.

Author’s note: so i started writing this way back in may for week 2 of elriel month, but i am probably the slowest writer in existence. and, the story kind of got away from me--i normally write little one-shots but this is shaping up to be a pretty long fic. but even though it’s several months overdue, i still wanted to post this ‘cause it’s been really fun to work on, and doing so got me out of a nearly two-year long writing rut (‘:   if people are interested i’ll finish part 2 👀 

Tags: SFW, undercover au, fake married 

Word count: 2.3k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42105033

According to Rhysand’s message, the meeting was in the east conference room at nine o’clock sharp. Azriel scanned his I.D. to unlock the door at 8:57, but he was still the last person to arrive. He could tell by the impatient frown on Amren’s face, made all the more conspicuous by her bloody lipstick. It was one of the only colors in an otherwise gray room. The carpet, the table, the chairs, and even the people sitting in them looked as if an artist had rendered them in pencil. Except for that slash of lipstick and Elain Archeron’s lilac dress. 

Azriel hesitated at the sight of her. Even though she’d been with the agency for a little over a year. Elain’s assignments had never overlapped with Azriel’s. Partly because she would be gone for weeks at a time on undercover operations, and therefore unavailable on the rare occasions he needed a partner. And partly because Azriel never went undercover himself. He started reaching for his phone, just to make sure he’d read Rhys’s message right, when he was greeted by the man himself. 

“Azriel, welcome.” He gestured to the table, and one of the few empty chairs still tucked into it. Heads turned at the greeting, and Elain smiled at Azriel as he hovered in the doorway. “Please, have a seat so we can get started.” 

He nodded, the movement blunt and awkward now that everyone was looking at him, and slipped into the closest empty chair. Amren nodded to one of the few people Azriel didn’t recognize. He stood up and introduced himself as Agent Tiberian. He sent a file zipping across the table to Azriel. He opened it, and stared at the blurry photograph paper-clipped at the top right. 

“This is  Ivan Galkin. Until recently, he’s had a spotless record. Still does, technically. He lives in a quiet neighborhood with his wife, in a house paid for with family money. We’ve started looking into it, and so far, everything checks out there. 

What’s interesting is that according to recent intel, he’s been in contact with Koschei Sokolov, an arms dealer we’ve been tracking.” 

“Who made contact first?

“How long have they been communicating?” 

Elain and Azriel’s questions came from opposite ends of the table at the same time, crashing into one another. If not for the troubled crease between his brows, Tiberian’s  answering shrug would have appeared casually disinterested. “Unfortunately, we don’t know the specifics.” 

“The specifics?” Amren echoed, her tone just shy of disdainful. “It sounds to me like you don’t know anything, agent.” 

With significantly more diplomacy, Rhys asked, “What about the informant? Perhaps they noticed something else that could be of significance. Did you take a statement?” 

“We didn’t get the chance,” Tiberian said. “He was found dead Wednesday morning.”  

A hush fell over the room. Clearly, he’d stumbled into something that Koschei and Galkin had decided was worth his life. 

Tonelessly, Tiberian directed them to the second page of the file. Azriel looked down at the city map, brow furrowed. It wasn’t the business district of the city that was highlighted, or even one of the seedier boroughs. The red circle on the map encased a small neighborhood just outside the city. An affluent one, at that. It was a neighborhood full of grand houses with pristine yards in the middle of a top-rated school district.

“Galkin lives in this gated community,” the agent explained. “Low risk and lots of privacy. It’s made surveillance near impossible. All we’ve been able to observe from a distance is that the house seems to have quite a few visitors. Not exactly enough to bring anyone in for questioning.” 

“That’s where two you come in,” Rhysand jumped in, looking down the table at Elain, then turning to Azriel. “Of course apprehending Sokolov remains a top priority, but it’s of equal importance that we gather information on Ivan Galkin. What does a wealthy man living in the suburbs want with an arms dealer, and why would Sokolov agree to work with him?

And lucky for us, the house directly northwest of Sokolov’s was for sale.” Rhys’s smile, nearly lupine, told a different story. “You move in tomorrow.” 

It took some effort for Azriel not to balk at the orders. He stole a glance at Elain. Her face was calm and thoughtful, but just before he looked away, she smiled at him again. Azriel didn’t smile back. He couldn’t do anything but sit there and think there must have been some sort of mistake. The closest Azriel had ever come to going undercover was sneaking into a party using random name on the guest list. And once he was through the door, he could shake off the identity, free to return to what was comfortable: listening from shadowy corners, planting cameras in forgotten vents, slipping out through windows. 

Azriel tried to argue. Tried to explain that he wasn’t capable of blending in, that he could only blur—disappear. But all that came out was, “I don’t do undercover missions.” 

“You do now,” Amren said. She was his direct supervisor—Rhysand’s right hand—and the comment was nothing less than a command. 

Azriel knew it was stupid to push back, especially now, in a room full of people that outranked him. But nobody in their right mind would look at him and believe that he was anything but suspicious. He was cold and guarded. Strung tight as a bowstring, nearly vibrating with tension at any given moment. Whether he was about to break or strike was anyone’s guess.

“I’m not sure I’m the right choice for this job.” 

Rhys’s shoulders tensed, the only sign of his dwindling patience. His voice was calm, teasing even, “Yes, Azriel. We all know you’re weird and vaguely off-putting. But you are also our most experienced at gathering intel and have good instincts. I trust that you can figure out the rest. Especially with Elain at your side. She’s done this plenty of times, and is charming enough for the both of you.” 

Elain, exactly the opposite of weird and vaguely off-putting, had recently returned from a deep undercover mission that had kept her away for most of the summer. She’d only just stopped accidentally slipping into the regional accent she’d adopted for it. He’d caught himself smiling into his dark roast last Tuesday morning when she asked him to please pass the suga’ in a voice like warm honey, slow and sweet. 

“We’ve been chasing our tails trying to get close to this guy for years, and whatever this thing is with Galkin can’t be good,” Tiberian refocused the group. “We need the best out there.” 

“Not to mention, research suggests that we humans are quicker to trust attractive faces.” Rhysand looked pointedly from Azriel to Elain, whose cheeks dusted pink.  

Without missing a beat, Azriel turned to Rhys, “Shouldn’t they be sending you, then?” 

Rhysand flashed a truly dazzling smile, “Flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

There was already a moving truck on the way, full of furniture and pre-approved wardrobes. Surveillance gear and a decent armory. Amren handed each of them an envelope on their way out of the conference room. Azriel peeked inside his, finding it stuffed with documents: a passport, driver’s license, and credit cards for Mr. Alexander Price. A marriage certificate binding him to Eleanor Price, and a simple gold ring. He stuck it into the folder from Agent Tiberian.

Rhys fell into step beside him, “Your cover stories, as well as everything we have on Galkin and Sokolov are in those files. Take it downstairs with you and study up between shoots.” 

Azriel blinked at Rhys, “Sir?” 

“Photoshoots,” He clarified. And when Azriel continued to stare blankly, he sighed. “We have every reason to believe Galkin and any of his co-conspirators will be just as interested in you as we are in them… at least at first. We can’t give them any reasons to keep looking into you. 

How many newlyweds do you know that don’t have pictures of the happiest day of their lives hanging up in their homes?” 

Elain was already downstairs, chatting idly with Morrigan while the blonde set her hair with hot rollers. Mor was Rhysand’s cousin, and officially a model, but Azriel knew she did this kind of thing often enough—using her connections and expertise to alter appearances or fake photo albums. Even though Rhys definitely had the resources to hire somebody else, and Mor definitely didn’t need the extra money. 

A photographer was busy setting up studio lights and hanging a chartreuse backdrop. The dusty boxes that had once been in the middle of the floor had were now arranged into something like a wall between two racks of clothing. Elain’s side was stocked with hair tools and various accessories. Mor’s makeup case was open next to a light-up mirror propped against an old filing cabinet, and a large garment bag was stuffed in the corner.

The only thing on Azriel’s side of the wall was an extremely well-made suit. And his boss. Amren inspected the label on the blazer and arched an eyebrow, impressed. When she noticed him standing there, she pulled it off the hanger and handed it to him.

“This seems…” He trailed off, not sure how to properly word what he was feeling. Azriel had done some pretty insane shit, but this might take the cake. He was holding a casefile in one hand, and an Armani blazer in the other. “Excessive.” 

“Don’t tell me a pretty boy like you is camera shy.” 

“Of course not,” Azriel frowned, although the effect was surely not what he intended, because he could also feel his ears burning. He wasn’t camera shy, he was the regular kind of shy. No, not shy. Reserved. He hated getting his picture taken—his dead-eyed I.D. bearing the proof of his discomfort. 

Azriel was ready long before Elain, and found himself pacing on his side of the partition, too afraid to sit and wrinkle the suit. He also wasn’t allowed to venture outside his corner of the basement, in an effort to keep his reaction to seeing Elain as authentic as possible. The whole thing had Azriel buzzing with a sort of nervous energy. Amren rolled her eyes, but made no effort to stop him. Instead, she wordlessly handed him the file Tiberian’s men had compiled on Koschei Sokolov. He flipped to the first page and started reading aloud to Elain. 

There wasn’t much. He was born in Russia, but raised not far from here. He’d attended a pretty prestigious university for three semesters before dropping out. Then, he dropped off the face of the earth. Or so it would appear. The web of suspected associates suggested mafia ties, but he was so far removed from everything—the deals, the kills, the shuffling of the money—it was impossible to be sure. 

“Anything else?” Elain prompted.

Azriel looked at the map of the area they’d be moving to and sighed, “We’re less than ten miles away from Whole Foods.”

“Oh, thank God.” 

Azriel’s mouth twitched, and Amren rolled her eyes again. He looked back down at the map, trying to manifest more valuable information than grocery stores and coffee chains. And to avoid making any more eye contact with Amren. He was relieved when Mor’s cheery voice announced they were ready. Azriel carefully set everything down, running his fingers over his hair one last time to make sure that cowlick at the crown of his head was submitting to the pomade.  

“Well, go on then,” Amren hurried him along, pushing him out toward the photographer’s setup. “Might as well put those longing looks of yours to use.” 

Her words were nothing more than a grumble, but Azriel nearly tripped at the sound of them. His head whipped around to face Amren, but she’d already devoted her attention to her phone. Azriel didn’t know why he was surprised—Amren had been in this field for years. Still, it felt wrong to be the subject of such vigilant observation. 

How long did he have before Elain’s carefully trained eyes saw it too? 

Just the thought of it kicked Azriel’s heart into double-time, pounding in his ears so loudly he almost couldn’t hear the hissing of fabric on the concrete floors. 

“Okay,” Elain’s voice was close behind him. “You can turn around now.” 

It was as if the dusty filing cabinets and evidence boxes disappeared, and it was just Elain. The ivory gown was simple, but the pleats at the bodice and the way it swooped over her shoulders made her look like the goddesses sculptors had once lovingly and painstakingly carved out of marble. For all he knew, he was at a gallery or a museum, marveling at the art. Even flash of the camera barely registered, Azriel’s eyes far too focused on the way the wispy fabric and loose tendrils of her hair moved with the cool air pouring from the vents above. Her smile was too big to be natural, and her eyebrows were raised in a Well, here I am sort of way. 

There she was, fidgeting with ring so ostentatious it had to have come from Amren’s personal collection. The massive sapphire was wreathed in tiny diamonds and was nearly blinding when it caught the setlights.  

“Wow.” The word was little more than a whisper. 

“I know,” Elain held her hand out to him so he might get a better look. “It’s stunning, isn’t it?” 

Azriel nodded, as if they’d been talking about the same thing. But his gaze had strayed from her left hand, tracing up her arm and across her collarbones, catching on the dip between them. He thought about saying something, about the ring or the dress or the general absurdity. Anything to fill the silence. 

The photographer did it for him. 

“Alright then!” She clapped her hands together decisively, “Elain, step in closer.” 

She was close enough to touch, and the smell of jasmine and honeysuckle overtook him. Azriel wasn’t sure if it was Elain’s perfume, or if there really was something blooming in his lungs, sweet and lovely, and making it very hard to breathe. 

“Perfect. Now Azriel, tuck your fingers under her chin to tilt her head back a little.” 

[singswan-springswan]

I just realized it’s May haha 🥲

What am I doing with my life that May was so far away and yet suddenly slammed me full-stop with a punching bag I don’t understand. Anyway have my Mermay contribution

Holy kriff what actually is this quality dumblr? grr.

I did the artsy a while back, but I’m pleased to announce that I still can’t draw consistent characters 😌 whaaaat? Psh, I mean—this is an aquarium AU, so obviously they can’t be clones irl come on 👀 that’s why they don’t look like each other.

Also, I wrote a lil blurb for the concept so enjoy :3

~

“So,” Padmé said shortly, keeping both eyes firmly fixed on the clipboard in her hands. “What do we know already?”

It was easier to stare at the infuriatingly thin packet of papers on the board than to raise her gaze just a little tiny bit and look into the pool she and Rex were standing over. For one, nothing in the pool moved much. The water only barely dipped and splashed on the very minute occasion from whatever sluggish filter had been placed inside. The water otherwise was clear and plain, and—honestly—a little boring.

It was another generic holding tank they kept at the aquarium: nothing Padmé hadn’t dealt with dozens of times before. They used the large, platformed containers to rehabilitate all kinds of sick and injured marine life, ranging from dolphins, to turtles, to stingrays, and even a few arthropods, though Padmé was decidedly less involved in some of those projects. The only nuance in this situation was the species—creature, really—currently within the tank.

To put things simply, it wasn’t something they already knew much about. And it was easier to stare at her papers than to risk looking at it.

“Nothing, really.” Rex sighed. He ran a hand over his clipped curls and gave the stack of papers a pitying look. “It’s been hard to run any tests since the three of them came in. Normal tranqs don’t seem to work as well, and anyone who’s tried to get close so far has been… compromised.”

Padmé’s thoughts strayed to Sabé’s broken arm, and the thing that had caused such a gruesome injury; how it was coiled at the bottom of the tank in front of her and—

She reigned her attention into focus.

“So this—all of this is it?” To distract herself, she flipped through all five papers with incredulous surprise. There was maybe one whole page of lab results, a few more of random notes, and a sad scattering of anatomical data. It was some pathetic compilation. Especially considering their aquarium’s research reputation. And the significance of this… species. “There’s no file? No report? This is all the information we have?”

“I’m afraid so.” Rex dropped his hands behind his back. “The director wants to commission individual research assignments for each subject. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard. You might just be the first, so don’t get too discouraged.”

Padmé wasn’t daunted by the task of personally studying the animal in the tank before her. She was more concerned about safety parameters. The last time she’d gotten close, it’d tried to drown her (almost had, actually), and it’d taken Dooku ripping one of its fins off to subdue the thing.

She wouldn’t ask why Sheev thought she of all people was best suited to personally researching this animal. Nevertheless, she had without a doubt been assigned the project, and Padmé had never underperformed in a task. Anyway, it was… a good opportunity. She should be thrilled—honored, even. Plenty of others would certainly die to have this chance.

After her first encounter with what she’d originally thought to be a beautiful, majestic creature, however, she was a little hesitant to be working so closely with it. It was dangerous. Worse than that, it was intelligent. It was the smartest thing Padmé had ever handled here at the aquarium, and she’d barely spent ten minutes in its presence.

“Alright,” Padmé’s huff sounded more frustrated than she’d intended. She tried to ignore the amused twitch to Rex’s lips and slapped the papers down against the clipboard. “I can work with this.”

He nodded.

“I suspect it won’t be an orthodox schedule, however. I may need access to the holding tank at odd hours.”

Rex chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder, camaraderie and sympathy in one go. They weren’t the closest of friends, but they were both dedicated to their work, and he understood her undeterrable drive which—in some cases—was slightly less than healthy. If her most recent disaster was anything of note.

“I know. And Palpatine knows too, don’t worry. You’re getting a lot of free reign over this assignment.”

It was good news; not that it reassured her about much. This was going to be difficult, conditioning such an intelligent creature to recognize her as its handler. It might take weeks, and Padmé was a stubborn person, but she wasn’t the most patient.

“Good. I’m going to need it.” Padmé looked up from the clipboard and met his eyes to communicate the authenticity of her thanks. She refused to look inside the pool. Only Rex.

“I appreciate your help.”

He smiled, nodded, then turned and went for the stairs that led down the side of the tank. “Good luck!” He tossed over his shoulder, leaving her alone with the merman.

[djbunnie]

“The audacity”

Raven: *enters Constantine home office* “DAD I DID IT!!!”

Constantine: *confused* “What love?”

Raven: “worked tirelessly for the last two months to create my own curse!”

Constantine: “that's wonderful baby bird, what is it?”

Raven: “the audacity spell.”

Constantine: ”what a... Unique name.what's it for?”

Raven: *sigh* “Sadly, father, we live in a world where entitled people have nothing but AUDACITY. so I created a curse specifically for them.”

Constantine: “I'm afraid to ask but what does it do?”

Raven: *summons Tadashi* “My loyal Familiar, would you please explain to my father what “the audacity spell” does? you have a better memory than mine.”

Tadashi: *bows* “Of course my Lady.”

Tadashi: *takes out iPhone, logging into notes app*

“1. Stub your toe on your favorite piece of furniture

2. Miss a spot while shaving

3. Have your contact dry out

4. Have toenails that grow too fast and have to clip them every day

5. Have eyeliner that is never straight

6. Always buy the clumpiest mascara

7. Suffer from severe split ends

8. Always receive "hot" coffee cold

9. Receive overcooked food at your favorite restaurant

10. Have to get braces for the second time

11. Buy cracked eggs

12. Have a pet that eats your bra

13. Get a bad haircut

14. Still have acne after the age of twenty

15. Have bad Wi-Fi that goes out when you're trying to submit a paper

16. Spill dark liquids on white clothes

17. Have bad gas on a first date

18. Get put on at least a 20-minute wait for a table

19. Can't get the right shoe size

20. Whites turn pink in the wash

21. Run out of conditioner but always have too much shampoo

22. Get thirty-second YouTube ads

23. Forget to cancel your free trial

24. Hit only red lights when you're late for work

25. Forget the punchline to your joke

26. Only hear "you had to be there" stories

27. Forget your pizza in the oven

28. Leave your phone across the room when you just sat down

29. Break a nail

30. Lose the TV remote

31. Have Netflix constantly buffer

32. Can't get spinach out of your teeth

33. Have to work on your birthday

34. Have a fly in your car

35. Lose your room key

36. Say hi when your friends aren't looking and don't get recognized

37. Get brought the wrong food

38. Run into your parents at a bar

39. Have your flipflop break

40. Forget your sunglasses

41. Kill your succulent

42. Get caught in the rain without an umbrella

43. Forget to charge your phone

44. Have an awkward conversation in stores with acquaintances

45. Fill your eyebrows in too dark

46. Don't have continental breakfast at your hotel

47. Have to cough during prayer in church

48. Call your significant other the wrong name

49. Watch your favorite sports team lose

50. Go over your data—because of your sibling

51. Leave your car windows down in the rain.”

Constantine: “shit...even I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.”

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[merccurry]

Klitz x gn!Reader pt 2

Part 1

You had been repeatedly checking the clock throughout the day, counting down the minutes until it was time to go home. Stopping at your locker you saw Klitz walking with 2 other guys. Quickly putting your folders and books in your backpack, you rushed over to him.

"Hey, wait up Klitz!" Jogging slightly so as to not fall behind in the sea of kids. He and his friends all turned to look at you

"You want to walk home with me, I thought it'd be more convenient if we just went together now." Your hands tightened around the straps of your bag as you waited for his response. You were never really the type to make the first move, and the seconds it took him to respond felt like hours.

He smiled, "Sure that sounds good." You could see his friends start to smirk at each other. The kid in the black cap made some oooh noises, giving Klitz a few hard pats on the back." Don't mind them.” He tried assuring you nervously. Walking side by side he guided you through the packed hallways to the exit.

The two of you made your way outside "My place is a few minutes this way I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, I like walking.” You were put a little at ease as the two of you walked.

"I know right, walking places is fun because you never know what you’re gonna find along the way. Worms, pennies, half-finished cigarettes. One man's trash is my treasure." He laughed at your statement.

"Never really saw it that way, but you're right. Maybe well get lucky and find something cool." The two of you continued on your trek. Obeying the cross walk signs, and jumping over cracks in the concrete. You ended up catching your foot on one, nearly falling flat on your face had Klitz not caught you in time. The adrenaline rush from almost eating it and Klitz's firm grasp on you made your heart feel like it was about to explode “You’re a real-life saver dude.” You said trying to play it off cool as if your face wasn't flushed with embarrassment.

" Well, this is me. Home sweet home." Klitz looked over the house with the unmowed lawn, dotted with white and pink clover flowers. Overgrown vines crept up the walls with large shady trees preventing the sun from drying them out. Due to its older design, it stood out amongst the other cookie-cutter houses in the neighborhood. The two of you made your way up the steps and to the front door. You slipped one of the straps off your shoulder to fish around your bag for your keys. Digging them up from the very bottom they made quite a racket due to the numerous key chains attached to them. Stepping in first you held open the door for Klitz to walk in.

" Take off your shoes, please. My room is just upstairs." You tell him as you kick off your shoes, Placing them on the small rack by the entrance. Klitz follows your example, placing his sneakers next to yours before making his way up after you. As he climbed the staircase, he noticed the various pictures hanging on the walls. Some of you, family, and a few paintings of less significance.

Your room is the last on the right. Opening the door Klitz takes a look around. It was very eclectic, to say the least. Posters, photographs, and artwork covered the walls from floor to ceiling. Your bed was pushed into the corner. Draped across it were a few blankets and various stuffed animals.

"You can put your stuff down by my desk."

Dropping his stuff, he has a glance at its contents. A desktop computer is set up with sticky notes placed around the monitor. A few toys and figures of different characters were lined up at the top of the shelf that was connected to the desk.

"So I was thinking we could get started with the colleague. It's pretty simple, the hard part is clipping out the images and letters so that's where I need you to come in," you say as you drop your things off on your bed.

Going to your closet you bent down and picked up a stack of magazines you had been collecting, then made your way to the desk to retrieve some cutting tools.

" It shouldn't take more than an hour if we work together, and if we cut enough maybe we can have some leftover to make a ransom note or something."

Klitz smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors, flipping through the pages looking for images that would best fit your project. You were defiantly out there in terms of humor, but Klitz didn't think that was a bad thing.

The two of you stayed hunched over on the floor, clipping and placing the pieces into a shoebox. There wasn't too much talking going on, except for the occasional gesture to a page to ask if it would be relevant to the project.

After an hour and a half, you dropped your scissors and straightened out your back, and an audible crunch noise followed. "Jesus Christ! Did you hear that? I think I broke my back." You giggled as you continued to stretch. Klitz too was feeling a bit stiff and began stretching out.

"I think we deserve a break." You stood up and started walking out of the room, " You want something to drink, maybe a snack?"

"Yeah. If it's not too much trouble." Klitz said as he stretched out his legs.

"Is lemonade okay?"

Kiltz nodded. He listened to your footsteps as they went downstairs. Standing up he stretched out his legs. He took this opportunity to look more around your room. He first looked through your music collection. He wasn't able to gauge what type of music you liked as you had a CD for nearly everything. He then made his way to your vanity, littered with various perfumes. Gently picking up one of the smaller bottles he examined its intricate design and lettering before popping the cap off and inhaling deeply. Taking in the smell of you.

He nearly dropped it as he heard you coming back. He quickly capped it and set it back down. Scrambling his way back into a less compromising position before you could question what he was up to.

In one arm you carried the drinks and in your other a container of fruit. Setting down the bowl, you give Klitz a glass.

"Thank you," he said before gulping down the beverage and wiping the tiny bit that escaped his mouth. As his tongue darted out to catch the drink, you took a quick glance at his lips. Quickly averting your eyes from his mouth, you took a sip from your own cup.

"I think we've clipped enough for the collage. Great work partner." Setting down your cup you grab the fruit bowl and found a place next to Klitz, holding the bowl out so he could grab some. "So what should we do now? Do you have anything else planned for tonight?"

Klitz's brain short-circuited for a second. No way was he this lucky to get to spend more time with you alone. "Nope, I'm all yours."

"Sick, so what do you want to do? I have a few movies here that we can watch." Leaning forward on your hands and knees, you look through the various DVDs stored under your tv. Klitz couldn't help himself from using this opportunity to get a look at your ass. Quickly realizing this was a pervy move he averted his eyes to something else in the room. Maybe Eli was rubbing off on him too much...

"Have you seen this one yet?" Holding up one of your favorite films Klitz looked over the title and shook his head. "Can't say I have, but it looks good. Put it on." Smiling as you sat up and turned the tv on, you inserted the disk into the slot. You get up for a moment to get some pillows and blankets. Tossing Klitz one of your stuffed animals you made a little nest around you two, getting comfortable as the movie started.

You saved the image of Klitz sitting, cross-legged clutching the froggy plush in his large hands, in your head.

Making your way to the floor you set up a nest of blankets around you and Klitz. A single pillow dividing the two of you. As the movie progressed he could feel the two of you getting closer and closer. Occasionally his hand would brush up against yours, quickly retreating back to their respective areas. Whenever a particularly romantic scene would play you noticed Klitz would grip onto the stuffed animal. This was, unfortunately, one of his only ways of preventing a boner other than thinking of calculus equations. Once the credits began to roll you both began picking up. Grabbing the containers you put them on your desk. Klitz helped you fold the blankets up and place your clippings into an envelope.

"That was a great movie y/n. Can't believe I never saw it before." He said as he began putting on his bag. "Well, I'm glad you liked it." The two of you made your way downstairs

"This was a real fun time Klitzy, I'm glad we got picked to be partners." Klitz's heart skipped a beat. "Y-yeah? I feel the same way." He said trying to retain his composure when in actuality it felt like his insides were filled with butterflies.

As both of you stood on the porch you took a step toward him before giving him a hug. Klitz tensed up, forgetting his motor functions he raised his hands up and patted you on the back.

"I guess I'll see you on Monday then. Bye~" He didn't get the chance to respond before you shut the door, just standing there awkwardly waving goodbye and he watched you disappear behind the door.

Your face was beaming as you rested yourself against the door. Had it not been for the door propping your up, your shaky legs would have given out from under you.

A/N: I had no idea how to end this part. I'm open to any ideas or requests y'all might have:)