#its nice to slow down for a hot second and actually think about these things!

[sunminshine]

Bias Tag Game

Tagged by: @baekhyunnybyun (thank youuuuuuu 💕)

Rules: you're going to pick 10 of your biases (or as many biases as you have and then fill in the rest of the spots with idols you like) and number them 1-10, then answer the questions below. try not to look at the questions before you make your list!

Tagging: @dive-in-the-blue @shalalayong I'm curious to see yours but feel free to pass as always, friends! Also, @baekhyunnybyun going to tag you again if you wanted to do a GG edition :)

Bias List

Minhyuk (Monsta X)

Minho (Shinee)

Jaeyoon (SF9)

Jinhwan (iKON)

Changbin (Stray Kids)

Yeosang (Ateez)

Dokyeom (Seventeen)

Onew (Shinee)

Zuho (SF9)

Taeyong (NCT)

Questions & Answers below the cut

1. Between 7 and 5, who did you bias first?

Changbin! But only because skz was the first group I ever got into so he had the benefit of time even if he wasn't my first skz bias. Seokmin, on the other hand, claimed that title for svt and never let go.

2. Between 2 and 6, who are you more attached to?

Minho. I... Yes... Minho.

3. If you were to spend the day with either 3 or 1, who would you choose and what would you do?

THIS IS TOUGH. I've been mulling this over for hours and I can't think of a proper answer. I feel like I would enjoy just being in Jaeyoon's presence for a day but I feel like I would enjoy doing things with Minhyuk, y'know?

4. What is your favorite physical feature about 9?

I want to say Zuho's smile but that's true for most idols so I'm going to say his tattoos! I am a thigh tattoo enjoyer and they are so sweet (and actually look good) 😭 man really loves his group and also probably forgot too many birthdays in his time.

5. What is your favorite part of 6's personality?

I love how sincere Yeosang seems to be. I can't even properly express it but there is this soft-heartedness about him that reminds me a lot of my sissy and while we never know what idols are truly like, he gives off an inner light that feels very genuine and gross emotions but I'm very soft for him okay???

6. If you were to tell 8 anything you wanted, what would you tell them?

More emotions? Ughhhhh I would tell Lee Jinki that he brings so much warmth and joy to other people's lives and I hope he treats himself with the same love and care. I would tell him that I can't imagine being a leader, let alone for a group with the longevity and popularity of Shinee but he's done so well. I would tell him that Circle is a fucking great album.

7. Between 1 and 2, whose closet would you raid?

Neither really? I'll go with Minhyuk just because I'm sure he has some good sweaters or t-shirts or whatever. I just imagine Minho with a lot of golf shirts.

8. What is a style that you want to see 3 try?

I do not have an eye for styling so I don't know how to answer this question. Do whatever makes you happy Jaeyoon 😘

9. Between 5 and 4, who are you closer to in height?

Short kings what's uuuuuuup. According to the interwebs, Jinhwan is slightly shorter and that makes him closer to my height.

10. Between 10 and 9, whose music do you like the best?

Okay this is v interesting. Taeyong has a lot more solo music compared to what I've heard from Zuho and, in general, I enjoy it and the different sounds he plays with! In saying that, Zuho plays a bigger role in SF9's music between writing and producing and I love it. So I really appreciate one's solo stuff vs one's work for his group.

#this is so fun and I could also answer a million more questions like this #its nice to slow down for a hot second and actually think about these things! #tagged 🏷️

[moonstruckme]

congrats!!!! how about fade into you with tasm!peter and touch starved!reader, in an established relationship???

Thanks honey!!

join the party

tasm!Peter Parker x touch starved!reader ♡ 960 words

When Peter gets home, you’re in another long, hot shower. With no one to witness how pathetic it looks, you’ve taken to sitting on the floor, letting the scalding water wash over your back and drip from your lashes. Your skin will be pinkish and puffy when you get out, but it won’t matter; you’ve got nothing to do other than wrap yourself in blankets and sit on the bed for the rest of the night. 

When Peter’s voice comes, it sounds muffled, faraway, but you snap to attention nonetheless.

“Sweetheart?” A faint knocking. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you say without hesitation, scrambling up and shutting off the water. 

“Shit, it’s steamy in here,” he says as the door opens. “Want me to pass you a towel?”

“That’s alright.” You grab the towel you’ve hung by the shower, hastily scrubbing yourself dry and wrapping it around you. 

Peter’s hands are on either side of the face the second you turn around, pushing your wet hair out of the way so he can kiss you properly. It’s a sweet, brief thing, and your chest aches slightly when he pulls back. 

“Ouch, babe.” His hands feel cool as they move down to your shoulders. You shiver pleasantly. “Your skin’s burning hot. How long were you in there?”

You really should get another towel to stop your hair from dripping all over the floor, but you can’t stand to move away from Peter’s touch. “I was bored,” you reply, “and the hot water is nice.” 

“Seems like it was more than just hot,” he murmurs, grabbing the other towel as if he’s heard your thought and beginning to squeeze the moisture from your hair. “Sorry I was gone so long. I never know how these things are gonna go, you know?” 

“I know.” Peter had been attending a weekend conference on some scientist’s new research at a university in Chicago. He was supposed to be back days ago, but apparently he saw some fishy things while he was there that Spiderman felt an obligation to investigate. “Did you find the mutants?”

Peter shrugs, taking you by the shoulders to walk you into the bedroom. The air feels shockingly cold outside of the bathroom, but the warmth of his touch is enough to keep you from minding. “Sorta. It was a group of guys pretending to be mutants. Projectors and stuff combined with actual explosives to make it look like superpowered attacks.” He sits you down and begins digging through drawers, tossing you a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts. “It was super sophisticated, had to take a ton of planning. Honestly, if they weren’t, like, bad guys, I would’ve been really impressed.” 

You shrug the shirt on. “Sounds like you were impressed anyway, honey.” 

“Well.” Peter makes a sheepish face. “Just because they’re assholes doesn’t mean they’re not smart assholes, right?” 

“Right.” You say, standing to get the sweatpants on. You don’t know where to go from here, feeling oddly hollow but with no good reason. Peter’s here; your loneliness should be vanquished. You hold your elbows awkwardly. “So, how was the conference?”

“Baby.” Peter sounds almost disappointed, and hurt hooks its claws in your gut before you can even figure what you’ve done. “Why’re you all the way over there, huh? You haven’t even asked for a hug yet. Is something wrong?”

You hadn’t realized you were so predictable, but it is a bit odd for you not to tackle him the second he comes through the door. “I don’t think so,” you say, and Peter’s brows twitch together at your uncertain tone. “I just really missed you, Pete.” 

He makes a pained, sympathetic sound, opening his arms and stepping toward you. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 

And apparently that’s the permission your body was looking for. You meet him in the middle, his arms coming up slow and firm around your shoulder blades. Your chest aches again, but this time it’s almost pleasant, though you feel suddenly like you could cry. Peter seems to know, one arm tightening across both your shoulders while the other hand begins stroking up and down your back. 

“Did you have a bad week?” he asks softly, breath tickling your ear. 

“No,” you reply honestly. “I think…I think I just needed this.” 

Peter gives you a squeeze in response, and you tighten your grip too. 

“Let’s just do this forever,” you say, only half joking. “Think you could come to work with me tomorrow to hold my hand all day?”

Peter doesn’t seem willing to roll with your lightness. “Nobody else hugs you when I’m not around, do they?” he asks, and when you don’t respond, he pulls back slightly, taking your face in his hand. “Do they, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say, and you’re not sure why it feels like an admittance. You’re not touchy with your friends, and your coworkers aren’t close like that. When else would you have the opportunity for hugs? 

“No wonder you get so lonely when I’m gone.” Peter’s voice is fraught with tenderness, and he pulls you close again, petting your damp hair. “I’ll hold you as long as you like, babe, but after that, we should look into getting you a cat or something.” 

“A cat?” You twitch in his hold, perking up hopefully. “I thought your landlord didn’t let you have pets.” 

“He doesn’t, but he also doesn’t have to know,” he says easily. “If it’ll keep you from getting sad like this while I’m away, a cat is a small price to pay. Gotta keep my girl happy, you know?”

“I think,” you counter, “that we should get a cat and you should never leave again.” 

Peter chuckles, kissing the top of your head lightly. “Deal.”

#moonstruckme 1k celebration #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm!peter parker oneshot #the amazing spiderman

[ineffably-smote]

Macbeth, David Tennant - A very subjective, spoiler and emotion filled review

Just walking out of seing Macbeth at the Donmar and I have Feelings. Unsurprisingly, I primarily went to see it because David Tennant was in it. I love the play, big fan of Shakespeare but the trip to London was most certainly motivated by a very specific actor. Hence the highly subjective review. Fortunately, I also happen to quite like Macbeth. We studied it at school, and it holds a special place in my heart (back then, Hamlet was my favourite Shakespeare play but honestly, after tonight, I’m not so sure anymore. Anyway, I digress). It was my first time actually seeing an actor I’m a fan of in real life, so obviously the entire time my brain was just going oh my god that’s David Tennant oh my god that’s David Tennant like I actually could not comprehend it. The man I’ve spent hours staring at on a little screen is suddenly real, and right there. So yeah, that took me a hot second.

(Excuse the piss poor image quality, I took this with shaky hands without looking or bothering to focus the cam)

The Staging

Still starstruck and a bit dazed, one thing really really stood out to me: the staging. It was so, so good. I knew it was going to be minimal from the pictures I had seen, and it was, but it was also so insanely real. There were barely any decorations, and half the cast and the musicians were hidden behind a glass screen doing background noises and gestures. From where I was sitting I could not see them much, but could definitely hear them which added to the overall atmosphere. The stage was also really tiny, and the play benefitted incredibly from it. All the action was happening in one tight space that had been put to use incredibly well, particularly the banquet scene but I’ll come back to that because it deserves its own paragraph.

The way they chose to do the soliloquies was so fitting - all the actors start to move in slow motion - everyone else slowing down and just the characters speaking moving was so good, it made sense.

The Headphones

I’m a bit mixed about the headphones. They were amazing for the vibes, we could hear whispers and they really heightened some of the emotional speeches in the play - because when someone is struggling with guilt and trauma it makes sense for them to be mumbling rather than yelling. So that was really great. However, especially in the scenes where the actors where yelling/ loud I preferred to take them off a bit cause it felt more real that way. I’m so used to hearing actors voice on recordings, it does hit different when you can hear them for real. But, as I said, personal preference and that’s what’s nice, you can take them on and off as much as you want.

Famous Speeches

There were three speeches I was quite interested to see how they were going to be adapted - scorpions and dagger for Macbeth, and out damned spot for Lady Macbeth. These are classic, everyone knows the words, the plot but they managed to make it feel real in a new and touching way. I think here the headphones were quite helpful because they allowed the actors to actually whisper parts of those lines. They were so subtle, so embedded in the text they felt so natural which imbued them with all their power. I saw in a review Cush Jumbo’s out damned spot speech be described as “haunting”, and I wholeheartedly agree.

The Macbeths

I didn’t like Macbeth, the character, very much when I first learnt about him. His actions didn’t make sense to me, I couldn’t quite comprehend in my 21st century little brain how he went from I’m super loyal to the King to I will freely murder children for shits and giggles. But now, now I understand. It makes sense, it’s believable. And that’s a mix of the acting choices and teh overall setting. Like the opening scene, instead of presenting Macbeth as a glorious hero, he is presented to us as a traumatised hero. He spends the first few minutes washing the blood of his clothes, haunted by noises from the battlefield. And that sets the themes quite nicely, not ambition, as Tennant specified in an interview, but guilt and trauma. There are so many ways to interpret Shakespeare, that’s the beauty of it, and I think this version of Macbeth just resonated more with me (maybe because ambition I don’t quite understand but guilt I am intimately familiar with? Or maybe because it was David Tennant? I don’t know, probably a bit of both). Tennant delivers a convincing Macbeth. Yes, you can see his ambitions play out, but also his fears, his guilt, and that makes him into a complex three dimensional character that you want to understand.

And I absolutely loved this version of Lady Macbeth. Not just a powerful woman who bullies her husband into become an evil murderer (because again, here we can see traces of that in Macbeth from the start), but an ambition woman in love, with her husband, with power, and not quite healed from the trauma of loosing her child. Again another review said she is more of an enabler than a manipulator and I quite liked that description.

My Favourite Scenes

God the banquet scene. The one with the ghost of Banquo. An absolute masterpiece. I did not expect that scene to hit that hard. It was raw, it was powerful and even if Tennant was facing away from where I was sitting, even without seeing his face I could feel the emotion, the whole audience could. In a video essay on Tennant, @davidtennantgenderenvy highlighted how in almost every role he played, there is it is the classic Tennant breakdown moment, and breakdown moment it was. Not with tears, not as expressive as he sometime is but just enough for a King trying to hold it together but fear and guilt breaking through. I was absolutely overwhelmed and it was beautiful. The set up for the scene was amazing too - there were ceilidh, celebrations, I adored the contrast between these fast pasted scenes and guilt ridden whispers of the couple. And the way everyone sat down around the stage and suddenly it looked like a banquet table ? Just perfect.

Another really cool moment, less on the emotional side but more on the visuals was when Macbeth goes to get the second prophecy from the witches. Almost the whole cast is there, running around, moving, almost dancing and it gives the whole thing a mystical atmosphere. There’s smoke, Macbeth falls, is carried up high Jesus style, cowers, rises, it’s so busy and insane all the while there are whispers and whispers in the headphones - it manages perfectly to feel like a mystical moment.

Descent Into Madness & other cool things

For Macbeth, having the kid running around scene after scene, haunting him, and then scene where he kills him - GOD it’s powerful. Lady Macbeth’s descent into madness was so well characterised, I also loved the glass on the background that locked away some of the cast. Just wild. The actor that played Malcom actor was also really cool, and Macduff and Ross, big fan of all of them.

Overall I am overwhelmed with emotions. Tennant is truly one of my favourite actors - from Good Omens to Staged, Jessica Jones, even Harry Potter but also Mad to be Normal, Nativty, There She Goes, Around the World in 80 days, Doctor Who (god I’ve started a list, never start lists cause you’ll forget people) and so, so many more, I was truly beside myself with excitement and expectations for tonight. And it did not disappoint. I do not want to leave the theatre and I pray they release a recording of this because I want it imprinted on my soul.

(Side note: I don’t know how to use tumblr very well, for some reason whenever I try to reply to ppl it posts from my other blog? Anyway @raquel-and-sergio is in fact me)

#david tennant #Macbeth #donmar macbeth #review #sort of #more like therapeutic ranting for me #because i love this Scottish man so much #and i dont want this moment to be over yet #or ever for that matter #good omens #tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor

[r0-boat]

Can I get some Grusha brat taming (Grusha being the brat in this case)? :3c

I've had many thoughts about this

Grusha x reader

Grusha is bratty with a sharp tongue you tame him.

Nsfw

everything is consensual Grusha just likes to fight when he's a sub.

Gn!reader with a strap or cock free to interpret it as you wish

Your actual sex/gender will not be disclosed

" You think these ropes can hold me?"

Grusha gives you a smug look.

" I'll have you screaming on my cock once I-Haah!"

His hips buck the vibrator toy nuzzling against his cock kicking back up. His balls aching waiting to explode, moving his hips desperate for a long-awaited release only for nothing to come.

The amused smile on your face mocking him as you turn down the vibrator back to a slow agonizing speed.

Your boyfriend tries to regain composure. He will not let you win...

Your stubborn boyfriend will never break easily, no matter how much you've denied his release. But you're persistent, not stopping your onslaught until he has a whimpering sobbing mess for your touch.

His breath hitches when he feels your fingertips glide down his bare chest, he sits there hypnotized by your gentle touch biting his lip and watching your fingers play and tug at his nipple holding back his moan, before moving further down, Grusha's erect cock jumping when you move closer to his groin. Humming in delight when you take his balls into your palm giving him a gentle squeeze.

You continue to fondle him, squeezing and playing with his balls occasionally caressing his wet shaft. While your lips mingle with his. You felt his tongue press against your bottom lip trying to worm its way inside your mouth, and that's when you knew that was enough, enough to leave him wanting more.

He whimpers in frustration moving forward As you pull away, your hand leaving his hot cock alone.

"Y-you stopped?" Grusha questioned his eyes half-lit and pupils dilated his chest heaving, trying to pull his wrists free from the bindings.

" Don't stop baby, I want more~” he growled that cocky smirk still on his face, taunting you.

" I'll wipe that smirk off your face baaaby" you mock, his eyes follow you as you walk over to the closet.

Grusha just chuckled in response, trying to ignore the throbbing ache of his pulsating dick.

You fully bend down in front of him making sure he gets a full look at your ass.

"hm nice view~" Grusha purred

He hears you rummaging through clothes his eyes widen his heart rate picks up as soon as he saw the vibrator in your hand. You smile and Delight sees his smirk drop, again struggling to break free of the bindings.

"y-you better keep tha-mmm~! away from me," Grusha shuttered feeling your fingers softly caress cock once again. Grusha almost rolled his eyes back when he felt the cold electric toy press against his warm cock.

Before you flip the switch on, an idea flashes through your mind, a wicked idea indeed. You had a better toy in mind. A toy you have yet to test. The evil smirk plastered on your face doesn't go unnoticed by your prey.

" I don't like that look in your eye..." he grumbled as he watched you slowly put the toy down, before once again leaving him to walk over to the closet. However this time you instantly find the thing you were looking for walking back over to him.

For the first time tonight, his facade breaks his cheeks clenched his cock leaking at the sight of the silicone ring. Grusha practically drooled when he noticed the small plastic cylinder attached to the top part of the ring, his eyes were fixated on the bright pink transparent rubber watching you intently as you rub lube on the ring and slide it in place, resting tightly around his balls and the hilt of his dick.

You didn't even give him a single second to repair before you turned it on.

"S-shit... H-hah! O-oh ff-fuuuck"

Slowly losing his mind a string of cusses leaves his mouth. subconsciously bucking his hips. "Y-you- Bitc- mpmh!" Grusha growled clenching his teeth trying to stop himself from crying out when you immediately skip to the highest setting that the toy could do. The new feeling in his sensitive balls becoming too much.

Grusha's orgasm approaches fast as he falls apart in the chair "O-oh! Gonna cum, gonna cum so hard."

You couldn't help giving the most devious smirk as you immediately turn the toy off.

And finally

He break.

"No no no please! PLEASE Let me cum!"

You walk over to the chair running your fingers through his hair before tugging. " Will you be a good boy?"

His poor cock jumps.

"Hah! Yes, I'll be such a good boy~ please, I want you so badly."

You smile giving his hair another tug before pressing your lips on him. Your body presses against him as you slide your tongue into his mouth. Grusha practically shakes feeling your clothed sex grind against his, he swears if it wasn't for the ring he would have came right then and there.

"Good boy,"

You purr,

Finally taking off your pants, you didn't want to give him all of you.

You silence his moans with your lips grinding you're now naked sex against his leaking cock.

Smearing precum all over his sensitive shaft and making a mess all over your inner thighs.

His loins burning so good, feeling the heat of your wet sex grind against him. He can't deny how good it feels to be so close to that release yet not being allowed to cum. He's so tired of pretending.

" feels soo, mph- good~" he moans between your kisses, his pretty lips now bruised from how hard you've been kissing him.

Pupils blown, his eyes upon you as you slowly take off the cock ring.

~~

Hungry for more he backs up into you with each thrust of your hips, grabbing the sheets, moaning louder than you ever heard him before. Your fingers laced into his hair as you push him into the mattress. Drilling your cock deeper inside of him.

"f-Fuck! Gonna cum! C-can i please cum?" He practically squeals.

You allow it. "Cum, Cum for me Pretty boy~"

That nickname go straight to his lines as he explodes onto the sheets below, cumming hard for you, saying your name is he shoots. Grisha practically collapses on the bed bathing in the sweet afterglow of release.

After a bit you pull your cock out of him when you hear boyfriend out of breath panting

"W-why... Why am I still hard?"

#smut #pokemon grusha #grusha x reader #Grusha smut #gym leader grusha #pokemon scarlet and violet x reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #grusha #Dom!reader #Gn!reader #Ro fav

[slashingdisneypasta]

Foxy Coltrane x Fem!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: A few (5) of your many 💋kisses💋 with Foxy Coltrane. They aren't really in any particular order.

'I just wanted to know what it would be like.' - Gilmore Girls

Warnings: Sexual references + kissing gifs. Reader is pretty obsessed. Unedited.

***the 'fem' part in the title can be taken with a grain of salt. I only put it because the gifs are all hetero. If that doesn't bother you, theirs actually no mention that the reader is feminine in the writing.

1; The first time.

Your lips touch his, your hands sliding up a moth eaten american flag shirt and the warm chest under it and they reach his shoulders, and its absolutely everything you thought it would be. He grins against your mouth like he just won a bet and strong arms wrap around you; holding you still. Literally caging you in.

If you hadn't already committed to this madness, then you probably would have the good sense to be afraid of that. But you wanted this. You thought about it, you considered the pros and the cons, the feel of his lips on yours vs the feel of his fingers in your guts, and the desire to kiss him won by a landslide.

You must be crazy.

Foxy kisses just like how you would imagine a 55-year-old borderline feral classic to kiss- all encompassing, that beard rubbing your face in an oddly pleasant way and his big hands grabbing your hips just like they belong there. Like you're his. He takes his time kissing you, his mouth moving carefully on yours, just enjoying it; a hot piece of ass like you just walkin' up and kissing him out of nowhere. He's definitely game for shit like that.

When you have to breathe and separate just for air, he tries to follow you for half a second, but settles for giving you a mischievous, almost smug grin and dropping his forehead against yours. "... well hi." He drawls, his voice a slow crawl that makes you feel things. Terrible, dangerous things.

Breathless and eyes glazed over with want. Everything about the older man is perfect to you- how can he be so handsome?? How can he be so hot? And interesting? And the fact that he's considerably saner then his brother and sister is definitely a bonus for you. "I just wanted to know... what it would be like."

"Oh? Making out with an old guy?" Foxy teases. "Kinky little bitch, huh?"

"Making out with you." You admit boldly, your hands still on his shoulders and watch his face transform into a wicked grin.

"'s that so?... " He looks thoughtful and impressed and intrigued by you, his eyes soft but daunting at the same time. "You sure about that? Kinda dangerous, dontcha think?... "

Definitely. "I think it was worth it."

"You wanna get outta here?"

2; When he comes back after a trip away from you.

"Fox!" As soon as you saw him laid back half-slumped in the cushions on your couch, his knees spread wide manspreading like an ass, and an old black-and-white on your tv, and that slow smirk on his handsome face after he was gone for 2 months, your mood is completely lifted. You had the l o n g e s t day at work and you were ready to absolutely collapse but the effect he has on you is an instant recharge. A slow grin spreads across your face as you close the door behind you. You've missed him so bad-

"Hey there sweetheart. Been a while this time. My bad." The way his eyes flicker down your body and back up to your face again, the happy-to-see-you grin on his handsome rugged face, lights you up inside even brighter. He came here to see you!! He's happy to see you!! "C'mere."

You don't hesitate a second before crossing the room and settling in his lap, connecting your lips in a searing kiss full of all the want you've had to compartmentalise and put away all the time that he was not here. He barely moves, seeming lazy as he just lifts his chin to kiss you back. He doesn't need to move; you're in control (at least he lets you believe you are, 'cuz he likes you) and you're already nice and close in his lap, your knees digging into the couch cushions on either side of his camo-clad hips.

You went from negative one hundred to positive two hundred so fast you're already clenching around nothing, and so when he puts his hands on your hips (His big, dangerous, experienced wolfman hands) and encourages you to grind down on his hard bulge - which must have already been hard before you walked in, - you're happy to oblige. The kiss has to stop, at that- an inconceivable sigh of relief choking you at the feeling you missed; your head pressing into his shoulder as your hips slowly move against him.

"There, there, baby... I'm back... "

3; When Otis is looking at you a certain kind of way.

You hate Otis' attention. You hate being around Otis- he nearly killed you when you first met the Fireflies, after all, and it was only Baby who kept you alive cuz you were a good playmate (now of course you're Foxy's playmate, instead though. Funny how things change). But even now he sometimes looks at you, and you can tell he still wants to kill you after all this time. Pull you apart and make something new out of your pieces. Otis hasn't become attached to you in the slightest- he never would. In his head you will always be prey.

The whole time Otis has been sticking near to you tonight and picking on you Foxy has been behind you, telling him to back the hell off you whenever he goes too far, or just glaring. Otis knows what he's doing, knows he shouldn't be messing with you (You're Foxy's), but of course he doesn't care.

When Otis crosses the line with Fox (Finally. He crossed the line as far as you're concerned 3 seconds in), referring to you as 'meat, you're sure Foxy's going to pick up your hand and take you both out of there. Leave. Go somewhere where it can be just the two of you.

You're shocked when he sits down in a chair and guides in between his legs, one hand on your waist drawing you in for a deep kiss thats would be completely indecent in any other social group but the Fireflies. A surprised noise slips out of you but after he uses the opening to slip his tongue into your mouth, you get quiet; obediently kissing him back. Needily kissing him back. You're absolutely all his and you can never ever help it when he kisses you. He kisses you, and its all over. Any restraint you had, any nervousness or fear (Of him, of Otis, of your own psychotic desires for this evil man) disappear and all you have is a want for the warm familiar feel of him under your skin.

He knows it.

He knows as soon as he does this to you you wont be scared, anymore. You'll forget all about Otis. And Otis'll lose all interest.

And just like that, with Foxy's tongue deep in your mouth and his hand on your waist squeezing the fat there gently and making you crazy, Otis rolls his eyes and gets up. You don't even notice him leave, your fingers losing themselves in your Foxes hair just like the rest of you is lost in him.

Foxy cracks his eyes open, still kissing you, to watch him walk off. Too fucken easy.

4. Slow kisses when you're alone and you have plenty of time.

Sometimes the stars and the planets all align and your free wolfman stays. Foxy gets that still energy about him- like he's not going anywhere this time, at least for now, like here with you is exactly where he most wants to be in the world- and thats saying something because Foxy can go anywhere he wants to. Have whatever he wants. do whatever he wants. At least thats what you think.

At least he can get whatever he wants, from you.

During these times where he's still, not going away, you hope to be alone. No Fireflies, no Spaulding, no scary Otis.

Because- g o d.

When you are alone-

Theirs something oddly romantic about him, something from those old movies he likes in the way he touches you. His lips on yours are soft, teasing, setting your nerves on fire and making you moan. He'll sit on the couch for hours with you just tasting your lips, and your tongue, and your cheeks and jaw and neck and anywhere else he can reach. And when you get up to eat, or shower, or go to the bathroom, its not long before the possessive-obsessive wolfman comes up behind you and starts all over again.

He presses your front against a wall and lathers your neck and shoulders in those maddening gentle kisses, he feels up your spine with the tips of his dirty fingernails while you're cooking something on the stove and then sucks the darkest hickey you've ever seen into the crook of your neck (It'll be so sensitive to the touch after. He'll leave the same ones in all sorts of other places on you, too), he'll kiss you deep until you get lightheaded from the sheer lack of air.

He makes you even more addicted to him. Makes it even worse when he inevitably leaves again.

But... while it lasts....

5. The kiss in the middle of a fight.

Its honestly the hardest thing in the world for you to be mad at this man- because he could hurt you. But also because you love him. And also because he refuses to listen!!

"You are the most frustrating- are you hearing me??"

He looks up from a machete set across his knees, which he was picking blood clots off of with his bare fingernails, and raises his brows. "... huh?"

"Ughhhhh!" You just got finished telling him what was bothering you, and he was off in la la land!! Frustration washes through you like a tidal waive and you don't know what to do with yourself. He does this every time!! You're pretty sure he does it on purpose! Unsure what to do with yourself, you whip around and storm off- ignoring his 'wait, hold on, wait, wait!- '.

When suddenly his hand wraps around your wrist like a vice and whips you back around to him you end up slamming right against his chest. You try to back up and storm away again but his other hand comes down on your arm and holds you still. "Hold on, there. What's the problem, sweetcheeks?"

"Whats the pr-!? " Ohhhhh. "Let me go, I'm leaving!"

"Come on, clue me in."

"I did! You weren't listening!"

"Alright, shit, well I didn't think it was something important. Fuck me. Alright, siddown, my ears are wideee open."

"No!"

"I'm not givin' you a choice."

Instead of arguing with that you just start struggling against him again, and he watches half-annoyed at your little attempts; wriggling your wrist in his grip and trying to yank your other arm away from him- you budge him but he doesn't let go. "Fuck- "

Eventually his annoyance turns into amusement, watching you wriggle like a worm on a hook. "Goddamnit, you're cute." A slow smirk spreads across his face looking down at you. "Makes me wanna do stuff to ya. Stuff ya like. Too bad you're so upset... woulda been a fun couple hours."

Thats, admittedly, makes you falter. Even give up. Fuck. Breathless, you stop your fighting and look up at him with big frustrated bambi eyes. "... what?"

"You heard me."

"I'm mad at you." He cant do this to you!! This isn't fair! He's an ass, and he deserves to be mad at for a while.

"I know, I know." The grin on his face spreads as he steps in closer to your body, now that you're not actively trying to get away from him anymore; he knows he's got you. You can feel his warmth against your skin through layers of clothes. "... but come on, that'll just make it more fun, right?"

"... " You part your lips to respond, agree with him or deny him some more even though you know you want to give in, when you realise his grip on you loosened. Your heartbeat immediately picks up and thank god he doesn't realise it because a moment later you're gone from his grip and storming off again.

This time you make it a mere 2 feet before he catches you again and drags you back right against him this time; smothering your laughter and his amused grin at your cheek with his mouth.

The kiss immediately destroys any last resolve you had for yourself and you ring your arms up around his neck; slipping your tongue into his mouth.

#i want to kiss himmmmm XD #this was originally just the first excerpt but it was so simple and dissapointing 😅 so- i added more kisses (: #XD #also forgive me. i'm a lil romantic about foxy and it d e f i n e t l y shines through 😂😂😂 #i hope characterisation didn't take the hit too hard! #i watched that forest scene before writing the last one so i think he came out best in that one ^^ #Foxy Coltrane x Reader Excerpts #Foxy Coltrane x Reader #Winslow Foxworth Coltrane x Reader Excerpts #Winslow Foxworth Coltrane x Reader #Foxy Coltrane #Winslow Foxworth Coltrane

[reinabeestudio]

Friends and Strangers

Weather got me worried as hell lately, so of course I wrote a oneshot involving rain. I'm a genius.

If it wasn't clear: yes, this is Wally Darling/Neighbor 🍎👑

Second time I use 'The Neighbor' as a nickname for my self-insert. I have an actual WH oc yet I use my sona anyway. I'm also very original.

The title is from a song by Dave Grusin. It's calm yet charming, it made me think of Wally ahaa;; Nice background music tho

Home can be described in many words: colorful, peaceful, lovely, heavenly. Confined

But one of the many peculiar things about the quaint little piece of Heaven was its weather. More often than not it was equable. Neither very hot nor very cold. Always clement. Perfect

Yet the Neighbor had never seen the Sun. The sky shone blue and clear, but the star was nowhere to be seen. The Moon was the same as well: a sparkling night sky with moonlight coming from somewhere. Sometimes days just felt like someone turned off the lights in the neighborhood for a few hours before turning them back on.

However, today was different. The overcast cried over Home and created a maudlin, bleak mood. Time seemed to pass as slow as molasses.

Wally Darling did not like rain.

Rarely did the little artist find something that he did not like, though rain was one of them. Because it was such a rare phenomenon that everytime it happened, the rain caught him unaware and ruined his striking blue hair. He took great pride in his appearance.

There he was now, inside Home, changed into a new outfit after taking a nice bath to forget the unpleasant surprise, this ugly weather—and most importantly, his hair styled back into his perfect pompadour. He couldn't let the others see him with his hair down, he looked horrible!

His self-care session was cut short by the sound of someone frantically knocking on his door.

“I wonder who it could be...” he pondered out loud. His huge building friend, Home, simply jiggled its doorknob. Of course it knew who it was and it would not tell him. Hurry up is all it told him.

Admittedly curious, he left the bathroom and made his way to the door. His eyes widened at the sight of the surprise visitor.

The Neighbor.

There she was, on his doorstep with an umbrella in hand. As always she wore that red dress as beautiful as an apple. And of course, that golden heart-shaped brooch, exposed to everyone. Silly. His was under the soles of his feet.

He would be elated with the visit if it wasn't for the nervous expression on her face... Did something happen?

“H-Hey. Sorry for coming over unannounced. I just thought we could, ah, hang out?” she gripped the handle of the umbrella stronger. “But I understand if this was too sudden. I'll just- I'll just leave, sorry. See y-”

“Wait, Neighbor. You can come, it's alright.” I could never deny you.

“Thanks,” she said before she hastened inside. He noticed how she glanced at the dark clouds before he closed the door.

The Neighbor looked up at the ceiling. “Hi, Home. Sorry for messing your floor with my umbrella.”

The floor under her creaked, raising and deflating like a breath. Wally laughed in his unique monotonous laughter before he took the dripping umbrella and hung it on the wall coat rack next to his yellow raincoat.

“What do I owe the pleasure, friend?”

“Well... today is so gloomy, right? It was boring by myself so I thought, let's visit my good pal Wally. I'm sure he will know what to do!”

Wally tilted his head. “Were you feeling lonely, Neighbor? And you came to your best friend to help.”

She didn't answer, but her eyes looking away was louder than words.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. It's alright. I like your idea! We can have fun.”

The Neighbor gifted him a little smile, causing a tightness in his chest. There it was again. That foreign feeling. He did not know what it was but it wasn't unpleasant thus he paid no mind. However, the rumbling sound of thunder stole that gift from him and replaced it with the saddening sight of his friend covering her ears with teary eyes.

Ah, so that was what was really going on.

The Neighbor wasn't here to kill time. She wanted comfort.

And she came for him to get it. What a touching realization, if it wasn't for the upset lady in front of him.

Wally approached her and started rubbing her back as he escorted her from the door to the colorful couch, both of them sitting down.

“It's alright, friend. We are safe here. Home protects us.”

The building creaked as if to support the statement. The Neighbor laughed mirthlessly.

“Thanks, Wally. And Home.”

Another thunder made her jump from her spot and cover her ears again. It was heart-breaking to see his beloved friend so distressed. There had to be some way to make her forget about the rain, or at least distract her from it... The rhythm of the droplets of water hammering against the windows gave him an idea.

“Stay here, friend,” he said as he got up. But he was stopped by her hand around his wrist. Aaaah....

“Don't leave me alone. Please.”

Golly, he was going to drop dead at this point. “I'm just going to get something and I'll be right back. Alright?”

“.... Alright.”

The Neighbor released his wrist, and he missed the warmth as he went to take his leave.

Wally heard Home doing its best to strike up a conversation with their guest. Home was not easy to understand. The artist himself had trouble deciphering the meaning behind the house's many onomatopoeias. But he adored Home thus he tried. And he could hear the Neighbor trying to understand it, which must mean she cared too, right?

She liked Home. She liked the other neighbors. She liked him. And she will n̸e̵̡v̨̀͢e͠ŕ abandon Home.

Ah, there it was!

He picked up the small radio next to his art supplies and made his way back to his important person. His chest tightened once more when his friend's face lit up at the sight of him.

He moved the side table closer to the couch, away from its usual spot next to his favorite chair, and set the radio on top of it.

“A radio? What for?” she asked, tilting her head in his direction with curiosity.

“Who doesn't like some music from time to time, yes?” Wally's eyes squinted mirthfully. “Moreover, a little bird told me you like music.”

Rather a large, green caterpillar. Howdy Pillar mentioned it in passing as he gave Wally his usual. At some point she visited his shop and asked if he had some kind of Cee-Dee player (what is a Cee-Dee?), alas he did not. This seemingly innocuous comment informed Wally of something important: she was longing for her previous world. No, he couldn't have the new friend miss that place nor even think about it. This was her Home, after all.

Even then, it was not a secret that she enjoyed music. She often hummed to herself, or sometimes she even sang along if she knew the lyrics. She loved music, and he loved her music.

The Neighbor twisted the dial on, an old song coming out from the machine. Wally sat down next to her as more thunder rumbled outside. The Neighbor hugged him close like a pillow. Or a puppet.

He was taken completely off-guard yet he didn't reject it. When his other friends hugged him, he gladly accepted it with a smile. But this time, he didn't just take it. For once, he lifted his shaking arms and slowly put them around his friend, a hand rubbing her back again. He even dared to indulge a bit and pressed his face into the crook of her neck as her breathing slowed down. This was working, that's good.

There were no words between them for several minutes, the only sounds amongst them were the rain and the radio playing its old songs. And he didn't move an inch, listening to her heartbeat as if it was the most interesting thing int the world.

The comfortable silence was interrupted by her stirring. With her arms still around him, she looked down at him with a soft smile. Golly, were her eyes pretty.

“Wally?”

“Yes, friend?”

“Thank you. For this. I mean it.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Don't mention it. That's what friend are for.”

The Neighbor cupped the artist's fuzzy cheeks and planted a soft kiss on them (careful to not flatten his pompadour).

“I'm glad you're my friend, then.”

His dilated pupils looked back up at her with his endless smile growing on his face, his chest burning but he did not care. His most important and beloved person.

“Of course. I'm your best friend. Always.”

#self insert #welcome home #wally darling #my writing #dw it's very tame 👍 writing gentle stuff is my specialty after all(?) #indulged a bit bc I've been very stressed (´-`) rain terrifies me... i miss when it didn't do so. sigh

[cupcake--knife]

I 100%'d Paradise, all without the use of a guide.. mostly. I mean I did try to use one but it was in Chinese so I had to use context clues. The way to get Takara's route is actually interesting because usually the choices will let you know which character it favors but there's none for him. You actually have to get all the previous endings and then start a new game to unlock new Takara choices with new scenes. Funny enough some of these include more Shimada with one of them where Azuma and Shimada just go adventuring together. And the other one is really cute with Takara, Azuma and Shimada playing cards together and Azuma gets tickled as a punishment for losing so bad. I'm not sure if it's the shortest route or if I played the hell out of it, but it went by quick and out with a bang. This route probably has the least amount of choices with only two times where the first part has only two choices and the second has three choices where the endings branch out, I think. Also in this route, Azuma doesn't do either boat building or food gathering and instead ops to help everyone while also doing his own thing. Takara and Azuma flirt around and explore and things are generally really positive aside from the whole trapped and starvation thing. Some new places are found such as two different graveyards with one looking nicer than the other. The tunnel from Matsuda route also gets discovered. The next day, Azuma goes back with Shimada to better explore those areas. Then Kido, Uchimaru, Shimada and Hongou all get sick with supposedly food poisoning. Azuma and Takara go to the tunnel which they heard water in and then its discovered that's where the bodies dissappear to. Mushroom guy's eyes are missing and he has bitemarks too... ooh kinky. They get the water and come back to the gang who think about how the others got sick. Thinking the food is contaminated, Azuma and Takara go to find food. Afterwards they get lost and have to camp in the woods, then while Azuma is trying to comfort a supposedly sick Takara who then pins him down since he's a lot stronger than he looks and bites him, really hard before nonconning him in a really great h scene. I loved the part where Takara relentlessly kisses Azuma, barely giving him time to breathe. You get nice cgs of Takara on top of Azuma, kissing him, biting him and another where he sucks him off. It turns out that Takara is a cannibal which made him 10x better even though I was already starting to like him. Does that mean that some of the people he killed he just, ate? I- Is that why Shimada's body was so mutilated in one of the Mitsugi bad ends? Because Takara ate m-.. him..? Even if not, thats fucking hot to think about and already giving me intense drawing/writing fuel. I need him to eat everyone else, now. Then depending on how you answer, there are three different endings.

There's a bad end where Takara just straight up eats Azuma because he's disgusted at Takara for being a cannibal. Just a really long drawn out death scene but it's so fucking goood with Takara's moans, Azuma's amazing screaming and all the kinky dialogue.. Top scenes for sure, even though no sex happens during, even though I was hoping it would. Also damn, Takara's going to wake someone up screaming about how good eating Azuma is so damn loud..

Then there's another bad end where if Azuma stays silent, Takara just knocks him out and then all of a sudden he's chained up in Takara's house off the island. Apparently Takara killed everyone else offscreen but decided to keep Azuma like he's reenacting Boyfriend to Death. What follows is the slow breaking of Azuma as Takara tortures him using his childhood trauma ie making him eat rotten vegetables and hitting him if he doesn't, cutting off Azuma's back scar and acting like his abusers in general. You get a lot of backstory of Azuma's abuse as he flashes in and out of reality. There's also a very brief h scene, but it's entirely dialogue and no new cgs, sadly. Though this end does give you the wonderful image of Azuma chained up and crying. Then eventually Takara decides it's time to eat Azuma and during Azuma snaps after remembering that he killed his brother to live and attacks Takara, poking out his eyes, which is a cg by the way. It ends with Takara writhing on the ground and crying out Azuma's name while Azuma escapes, deciding to keep living out of spite for the world. It was so fun to hear Azuma cry so much.

Then there's the good ending where Azuma tries to diffuse the situation with a joke, making Takara laugh. Takara then reveals himself as the mastermind, that he's the one who's been killing and that they're never going to be rescued and were all brought to the island to be killed by him. He was going to kill everyone immediatly but because he liked them, he didn't want to right away. Also Takara made Shimada and co. (as they're called several times) sick by poisoning the food storage with arsenic. He apparently also has poison that can kill instantly which probably explains what happened to Kido in Matsuda's route. Azuma is very stupid and takes a long time to process this, but then Takara says that he'll let everyone live if he can find his buried treasure. He'll also kill everyone if he tells them about anything he said. Azuma searches the island desperately for this treasure, he thinks it's the ledger that Mitsugi found but it's not. Takara does reveal that it's an account of the deaths that happened on the island and he initially used it as inspiration of how to kill everyone, which is what happens in Mitsugi's route. Azuma starts to lose hope and starts to doubt himself, thinking about swimming away to leave everyone to die. But then he remembers that Takara wanted to stay around at one of the graveyards and he finds a knife with Azuma's name on it. And Takara keeps his word and the sick people are taken to a hospital and everyone escapes, returning to normal life. Azuma also gets Matsuda and Mitsugi's phone numbers and they remain friends. But it doesn't end there! As he goes along with his life, he gets a text that Kido and Uchimaru were killed in an accident and Azuma realises that Takara is still going to kill them. So they team up to figure out why Takara is trying to kill them, there's even a cute moment with Matsuda, Mitsugi and Azuma having a sleepover..There's an h scene where Takara goes to Azuma's flat just to fuck and tease him. He says he'll spare him if he figures out why he's trying to kill everyone. Timeskip to Azuma meeting up with Takara, who by the way is really rich and the truth is revealed! Apparently the island was an exile for criminals but because it wasn't good for farming they became cannibals. Takara is their descendant. The government knew this but criminals would continue to be sent there because they would due. Because exile Islands and cannibalism is inhumane, the government sends in military to kill the cannibals and it turns out that everyone are descendents of those military people. I actually thought it'd be more a 'let's just throw these hot guys into a desperate situation so they fuck or kill each other as social experiment' situation so I wasn't expecting it to be revenge porn thing. But after this big reveal, Azuma isn't going to let himself or anyone else die and takes Takara hostage so they won't be killed. Takara is surprisingly okay with this and goes along with his plan happily. Azuma takes Takara to a car where Mitsugi and Matsuda and waiting for them and they decide to escape overseas to escape Takara's family. Takara is just having a great time, says that he chooses Azuma over getting revenge and that he doesn't want to eat him anymore. Also Hongou and Shimada apparently got away and went into hiding, presumably together and Azuma wants to reunite with them too!

It was the last route to unlock so Takara good end is probably the true end. I also like to think of it as the harem end since Azuma leaves with Takara, Matsuda and Mitsugi for an eternal roadtrip and implies that he'll collect Shimada and Hongou too which gives it end more true end energy. I think it's a really great end, the main guys don't die and they all basically elope together which is such a surprisingly cute end and just seems so great. And there's also the idea of Hongou and Shimada, the two main guys who dont get a proper route, running away together! What a pairing! Who would even be the dominant? The pervert photographer who's proficient in using drugs or the perverted old man who's into force feminising?

Ahh Paradise was such an amazing sexy titillating game, 9/10!! Not a full score because Hongou couldn't get it up for Azuma like a loser. I already want to replay it both to see the h-scenes again but also to see how Takara acts the whole time, now that I know everything. Oh and you get a special little pastel cg of everyone smiling for completing the game. And new voice lines in the title/extra. Oh and I forgot to mention this really cute detail but when you open up the game, the extra page or close the game one of the main characters talks to you. I love that idea, more of that in games please. I loved this game so much!!

#memoirs of chrissie francisca #liveblog gaming with chrissie francisca

[joshisurcrush]

"Out of My Mind" by Sharon M. Draper

🐟

I'm gonna be vulnerable for a second and confess that this book opened my eyes to some things. I read it more than a year ago, so my memory might be a little foggy, but from what I remember it was about a very young girl named Melody, with cerebral palsy. The book was narrated in a first-person perspective and it genuinely warmed my cold shriveled heart to what can best be described as barely freezing.

She explains the struggles she faces due to never having been able to speak or interact with people and her environment as much as she would like to, because of her disability, and talks about how people don't take her seriously, thinking that she’s slow at understanding things just because she’s limited by her body.

I'm gonna spoil Christmas by announcing what’s under tree, but essentially, about midway through the book she gets a device that lets her speak through a slow TTS voice, which is slow and a bit sucky but a lot better than nothing. It was really cool to read her narration become overjoyed, I liked that part. In general, since the book is written from her perspective it’s very interesting to me, but also easy to understand reading-level wise (which is why I’m very supportive of the book being available in a lot of schools.)

It's not my usual read, but I found the book incredible. Because, as you read, you really get a sense of the world around her. Melody is a brilliant young girl, she's smart and open-minded, and she really just wants to go outside, go everywhere and see and learn everything. Melody, along with cerebral palsy, happens to have synesthesia (she can see music, for example) and a photographic memory (which you learn about early on in the book.) She's curious and she's nice to everyone, just overall a really good-natured kid. Also, you get a feeling of the people around her. She has an incredibly patient, kind family who supports her even though most kids her age are pretty cruel, because kids are heartless.

Sure, the book has its ups and downs (the actual plot focuses on her attempt to win a science fair) but it's a very satisfying read. 

If you're into a casual novel that won't make you vomit from either cringy love subjects or heavy triggering subjects, then you should try reading "Out Of My Mind." It's pretty unassuming at first, I'm gonna admit, but it's worth reading. I promise it gets good if you read for long enough.

Book best enjoyed in your bed with your feet tucked under the covers and cold or hot chocolate in your hand. Actually I’m curious. If you read this far, comment or re-blog. Cold or hot chocolate? Do we have room-temperature mfs reading my posts? I personally, I’m a cold chocolate mf. I’ll always be a cold chocolate mf. Always been a cold chocolate mf. My family thinks im weird for it but it’s just superior imo.

#hot chocolate or cold chocolate? #discourse #review #genre #coming of age #fiction #books #bookreview #book reviews #booklr #reader #writer #writerblr #reading #writing #rant #long review #extensive #discussion #medium #vaguepost #joshposting #gnome-review #mini-review #opinions #story #opinion #melody #out of my mind #sharon draper

[1tad0ri]

hiii. can i request a rough nsfw with sukuna where he's so frustrated with jujutsu sorcerers that he decided to unleash those said frustrations on the reader? like he just won't stop until he release all the stress inside him— kshjsch i feel like sukuna would do that 😳 he'll be rough all night long

warning: degradation, choking, breath play, very mild pain kink, hate fucking

ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader

i feel the same way so thank you, i’m going to be thinking about this for a long time

“you know, i really thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

the grip he had on your neck was bruising, but certainly a lot looser than you thought the king of curses would be. your hands clawed at him nonetheless, although the whole current concept of being shoved against the wall of your bedroom wasn’t exactly something you were complaining about.

the three impatient raps at your door earlier had you rolling out of bed, wanting to sleep after your latest mission. you’d thought it was yuuji, hungry for your warmth, but when you unlocked the door, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn, you’d been unceremoniously shoved backwards, the wind knocked out of you when your back met the wall. the glint of tattoos on a familiar face in the moonlight coming from your window told you all you needed to know.

sukuna watched you curiously and then his sickening grin was back, fingers squeezing a little harder. you gasped, stretching your neck away. “what? not going to answer?” he sneered, “maybe you all really are the same. scared little fucking sorcerers.” he leaned closer, breath fanning across your face. “isn’t that fucking stupid? you’re all a bunch of scaredy cats, aren’t you?” he pouted mockingly when he spat out the name. his lips were so close, if you just tilted forward—

no. whatever morbid fascination you harbored towards him didn’t change the fact he was... well... him. you stood your ground, leaning forward to bump your nose against his, your own scowl evident. “you can’t do anything, sukuna. once we find all the—”

“all my fingers you mean? the ones you can’t destroy on your own so you have to come up with some little plan to get rid of me?” he laughed bitterly in your face and you bit your lip, trying to calm your fury before you did something you’d regret. “it’s all the same. you’re scared of me. you don’t have the upperhand. never will,” he whispered at the end.

“i’m not scared of you.” your thoughts tumbled out of your mouth plainly without a second of hesitation, but the tilt of his head in question, his forehead brushing against yours, made you think that perhaps telling the truth around him was a very bad idea.

it was dark, hard to see his face, but god he was so close. “yeah? what are you then?”

good question. wait, no, bad question. bad, very bad, because you already knew the answer to it. or... did you? vocal chords at a stand still, there was no way to verbalize what you felt.

“hurry up, brat.” sukuna tightened his grip on your neck before loosening it just the smallest bit so you could speak. “i don’t have all day. how do you feel then? you with your little human emotions.”

words... what are the words. it turns out staring down a literal demon king in the eyes wasn’t the optimal place to think. “i... i don’t know.” your voice was small, unsure, lying.

the staring contest, backed by deafening silence, continued for a mere beat longer as you regarded each other with quiet contemplation. you could just barely make out his eyes and the curve of his lips, parted slightly. his breath was warm.

you couldn’t take it anymore and it seemed like he couldn’t either—you both automatically tilted your heads, lips pressing against each other easily, eyes falling shut. mouths sliding against the other, he gently pushed your head back to hit the wall, tongues running over one another. it was slow, hot, and you decided you should probably thank yuuji for keeping his lips so soft.

sukuna sucked your bottom lip between his own and your hands fell away from his grip on your neck to pull him closer by the front of his shirt (he hadn’t ripped it apart yet, an impressive feat). his leg slipped between your own, and you pushed down on it with your hips, the friction making you open your mouth further to him, something enticing about the fact he was a very good kisser.

but then it was like a switch flipped and his hold on your neck tightened once again. “what... what am i doing,” you thought he mumbled, voice hoarse (then again, your brain wasn’t exactly listening when you were busy making out with someone like him), kiss faltering for a brief moment. his lips curled into a frown, disdainful.

shoving you further into the wall as he pushed against you with his mouth, sukuna was all sharp teeth and rough lips now, swallowing up your whimpers, nothing soothing about it like his previous actions.

“i fucking hate you,” he spat, his hand abandoned your neck and moved up to squish your cheeks together, finding satisfaction in the way your lips puckering out, barely able to move. “do you hear me? i hate all of you.”

“the feeling’s mutual,” you mumbled around his grip, hazy from the kiss but knowing what you stood for, fury evident in your eyes and furrowed brows. he was the enemy. and you were... you. and... and...

you were met with a bitter laugh, your stomach curling into knots at the sound. you hadn’t noticed his free hand tugging at your waistband until it was too late, his hand slipping in and wasting no time running two fingers harshly against your soaking folds. “why are you dripping wet then? a slut and a liar?”

“fuck off,” you mumbled again, a lot quieter this time, face burning hot from embarrassment.

“i’ll fuck off when you stop acting like you want to fuck me.”

his words made you straightened up. “i- i’m not—”

“you’re not acting? mmm,” sukuna let go of your cheeks just enough that he could properly kiss you, tongue forcing it’s way past your lips, “of course you’re not. of course.” he was mocking you and you couldn’t say anything.

a finger pushed into your heat and you bit down on his lip in surprise, although the pain only seemed to spur him on further, a second finger easily shoving its way in next to the first. curling, pushing, rubbing against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of you, sukuna’s fingers had your legs shaking, the knee he still had pressed between them the only thing keeping you up at this rate. the grip on your face as he hummed against your mouth prevented you from avoiding eye contact with him, lips wet as he disregarded any type of mess he was making.

he was everywhere at once and you felt trapped. hot—it was too hot, your body was burning.

“su- ku... n... a,” his name came out garbled between the onslaught of your face being squished together and the sloppy kisses he pressed into you at irregular intervals. when his thumb rubbed against your clit as the two fingers continued to pump in and out, you gripped his shirt so hard you were sure you would rip it this time. “too... mmm,” a kiss that was more tongue than lip cut you off and you weren’t even sure if he heard you as you choked out the next words, “mmm, hah— much, suku—”

at once he released you, almost letting you drop to the floor, but you were able to just barely steady yourself against the wall in time. sukuna stepped back and away from your shaking form. you were gasping, lungs burning.

“w...why did you—”

“i can listen you know.” you could practically feel his eye roll from his dripping tone, even if you weren’t looking at him. “‘too much.’” he laughed as he mocked you. “more like you’re too weak.”

you were thankful he actually seemed to have a brain, but still— “you’re an idiot.” fuck, your lungs hurt, the retort scraping against the walls of them. he was good. it had been a while since anyone had left your head spinning like that.

sukuna flicked a hand dismissively. “‘an idiot’ who’s giving you a chance to breathe, you brat.” he decided to ignore the name for now, thankfully for you (although you didn’t exactly see it that way).

you couldn’t choke out another snarky response and simply focused on clearing your head. he gave you a chance to think and once you seemed clear-minded, he wasted no further time.

“bed.”

you blinked, eyes bleary, peering up at him from where you bent over, trying to catch your breath. “w...what?”

“on the bed. now.” he shoved his hands into his pockets, watching you blankly as you regained your senses. “unless you want me to fuck you on the floor?”

“no...” god, what was with you? or rather... what was with him? the ache in your core answered your question, your cunt feeling so empty now—he hadn’t even bothered to let you cum and you already wanted his fingers stuffed back into you. he was irresistible—you felt stupid even having the thought.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, close to shoving you to the ground to finish what he started but exercising restraint for your sake. you’d need it. “i’m being nice and giving you a chance to get comfortable on your stupid bed, you idiot. go. now.” he was getting tired of repeating himself.

the last few snarky words and your own desire for him actually had you moving this time, climbing up onto the bed a few steps away and settling uncertainly onto the covers. you went to look up for further instructions but he was already on you, both of you tumbling back onto the mattress as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat, hands pushing up and under your shirt to squeeze your tits.

“take this off.”

you automatically pulled at the hem of the flimsy t-shirt at his command, sukuna giving you just enough room to get it over your head, and then his teeth were on your exposed breasts, marking them up. your fingers threaded through his hair, his head moving under your touch as you watched his mouth work with half-lidded eyes.

you didn’t think you’d be able to change in front of anyone any time soon, already knowing the blossoming colors of bruises would be apparent the next morning. reminder to self: cancel your upcoming shopping trip with nobara; the dressing rooms with her would surely be a disaster if he kept this up.

“who’s are these?” his grip was rough when he cupped your breasts, squeezing.

you immediately knew the answer he was looking for, all too eager to hand it over. “yours. fuck, they’re all yours.” your hands ran through his hair, urging him to continue his onslaught on the previously unmarked skin.

sukuna laughed, thumbing your nipples, giving one of them a light lick that made you squirm. “you’re more obedient than i thought you’d be.” he pinched the buds, rolling them between his fingers as you squeezed your eyes closed, gasping at the pain. “but that’s enough of that.” your eyes snapped open, about to ask him what the fuck he meant by that, but he was already setting to work.

his fingers hooked around your sleeping bottoms and pulled them down with your underwear, the night air cold against your damp lips. you rubbed your thighs together but his hands on your knees forced them apart as he peered down at you. you felt so exposed under his hungry gaze, entirely bare for him to see while he was still dressed. unfair.

“wanna see. don’t close them,” was his short, clipped explanation as he kept your legs spread. one hand on your knee, sukuna brought the fingers of his other to run along your folds again just as he had done before, except this time he could actaully see how you quivered under him, cunt glistening and dripping. he slipped two fingers to run between the folds and then popped them in his mouth, sucking the slick from his fingers and maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. you couldn’t look away.

he hummed, content as he licked the last bit off of the tips. “you don’t taste bad for a slut.”

all the focus was on you, him criticizing everything little thing you did, and you were a mess because of it. not even a chance to run your hands over his chest? unacceptable. you pointedly ignored his comment, pining after some form of a reward instead. “at least take your shirt off. thought you hated those things.” the clothing ratio here was starting to grate on your nerves.

sukuna rolled his eyes but crossed his arms over his chest to grab ahold of the sides of his fitted t-shirt and tug it over his head. you watched, mouth watering at the sight—the moon provided excellent illumination for the scene, his body revealed inch by painstaking inch as he disposed of the fabric. god, he was so hot. you hated it.

muscles on display, sukuna raised an eyebrow at you as though he were asking, happy now? your silent reply came when you reached up to run your hands over the dips of his abs, his chest solid and tattoos curling over the surface.

“that’s better.” you made a show of your gaze tracing over the surface before looking up at him, smiling to yourself. “surprised you didn’t just rip it off.”

sukuna simply scoffed and swatted your hand away, moving from between your legs so he could work off his pants and kick them off to the side.

“knew you’d like to see me take it off properly,” he answered at last, back to you as he wiggled out of his boxers finally and chucked them off the foot of the bed. you didn’t get much time to admire his flexing back muscles before he was on you again, settling between your legs like he knew he belonged there (you weren’t sure you could argue with that point).

he pumped his cock, grabbing one of your legs and pushing it back. precum leaked from his tip, length already fully hard, and sukuna was enjoying your gaze on him maybe a little too much. leg shoved back and in the air, you whimpered when he rubbed the head along you. you didn’t need prep after being fucked by his fingers earlier you supposed and you weren’t sure you’d even be patient enough to sit through him stretching you out any further with anything but his dick.

you wanted to feel it yourself and so you reached a hand out to wrap around the base, captivated by how he watched you as you thumbed the slit, breathing heavy but not saying anything, letting you do what you wanted.

you wanted it in you so badly.

when he opened his mouth in question, eyes flitting up to yours, you were quick to cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask. “yes, i’m sure.” you didn’t know curses could actually be compassionate, and it was cute when his jaw locked hard at your confirmation and he nodded, shifting his gaze back to your hand.

you released his cock and sukuna set back to lining it up with you, grip on your leg locking the limb in place. you shivered under his hold and he grunted when the head nudged your entrance, slowly pushing in.

“fuck. take it. take it all in. fucking slut.” he sunk fully in in one motion, the pace enough not to have you screaming out at the stretch but making your breath catch in your throat all the same. “yes, just like that. a good bitch, that’s what you are, aren’t you? look at you.”

you didn’t even know what to think at this point, a shaky resemblance to his name tumbling from you, more so a moan than actual talking. you could feel him everywhere—so full, so overwhelmingly full.

shoving your leg back further until it was almost painful, cock bottomed out in you, sukuna snapped his fingers in front of your face. “i asked you a question, brat. or are you already too fucked out of your mind to answer?”

you couldn’t breathe, head heavy, and tried to nod in confirmation as you struggled to puzzle through his words, but then you shook your head to answer no—god, you were confused. what was the right answer? what was happening?

maybe you really were already too fucked out of your mind. you vaguely recalled his words from earlier and were able to form a somewhat coherent response. “a good bitch... yes, i a- wait.” what were you saying? first you let him fuck you and now you’re openly submitting to him? the curse that had nearly cost you and your friends your lives countless times?

pride wouldn’t let you go along with his little game even as your dripping pussy told a different story. “i’m not anything to you.”

sukuna scoffed, hips grinding into you as he leaned over you, hooking both of your legs over his shoulders and pressing them back, close to your head. “and here i thought we were actually starting to get along.” a mirthless laugh left him, both of you eye-to-eye now where you lay.

fire burning in your eyes, you were very much reminded why you hated him so much. a self-obsessed asshole was what he was. “i’m not exactly looking to be friends with the king of curses, you idiot.”

“but look at you now. you wanted this.” he licked a stripe up the side of your neck, pausing at the base of your jaw to grin and press a sweet kiss to the area. you shivered and your hands found his shoulders to grip onto. he wasn’t wrong about the wanting it part—the amount of times you’d fantasized about exactly this was concerning. “i wonder what would happen if your little friends knew about how you really felt. what’s that term you like to use? ‘fraternizing with the enemy?’”

sukuna laughed again when your expression fell, face hot at the reminder of the others. “i suppose this is considered a bit more than mere fraternizing though, hm?” he continued, smiling and kissing your cheek.

whatever. no one would find out anyway. expect... expect maybe... yuuji—what had happened to him anyway for this to happen? knowing him, he’d probably been too tired after the last mission and sukuna had easily switched in—the same mission that seemed to have set sukuna even further along in his fury against jujutsu sorcerers this night.

you weren’t dating yuuji per say (it was... complicated), so your qualms when it came to fucking the curse possessing him were... minimal to say the least. you wouldn’t have done it if you were already taken, couldn’t have done that to yuuji, sweet as he was. but even in spite of all that, sukuna was right... this whole thing was so... no, don’t think about it.

you didn’t care either way (...maybe)—you couldn’t let his words get to you.

“just move already.”

you heard him grumble, annoyed, and he propped himself up to hover above your face. “i was giving you time to adjust. you’re so ungrateful.”

and with that, sukuna snapped his hips into yours without another moment of hesitation and you dug your nails into his back, mouth open in a silent scream because fuck.

“ungrateful fucking brat.”

“more,” your voice was hoarse, focus narrowing in only on the way he was fucking you.

you weren’t sure if it was your words or his own desire that spurred him on, but he set a bruising pace from the start, the places where your hips met hurting every time he rammed back into you. he was marking up your neck, the area already feeling sensitive and oh-so overabused, yet you not wanting to tell him to stop.

sukuna’s hand wrapped around your neck again, the feeling familiar now and you clenched around him at the sensation, him growling when you did so. the slight squeeze of his fingers had you seeing stars, the light-headed feeling going straight to your building arousal.

just like before, his hand traveled up to squeeze your cheeks and he was hovering over your mouth again, lips brushing against your own from the momentum of his thrusts. “let me kiss you again.” sukuna’s eyes were dark, unreadable.

you were quick to act at that, not letting him lean down, but rather craning your neck up to latch onto him, moaning as your mouth fell open for him to push his tongue in. his hand released your face to travel down to tweak at your nipples and grip your breasts again, other hand holding your leg steady against him. “filthy fucking slut.” he forced the words into your mouth, speaking around your lips that kept chasing after him. “fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

sukuna’s attention returned to your neck, leaving you to gasp into the air and missing his warmth against your face. when his thumb found your clit, your breath hitched and you knew you so close to coming undone. the rubbing of his cock against just the right spots inside of you, filling you so wholly was not helping.

“su...kuna, please, i’m gonna—” you were babbling, chest heavy when his teeth sank into your shoulder, stinging. his wet kiss on the area was cooling, the contrast making your head tilt further back, wanting to give him easy access to whatever he wanted.

“i’ve got you.” he was whispering against the wet skin, voice low with his pants, and you shivered, digging your nails into his back even more. “come on, brat, you want to cum for me, don’t you?” yes, you did. the stretch, his hands everywhere at once, his scraping lips—yes, you wanted to let everything go.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you let yourself come undone, heat filling your chest. everything was him—that’s all you knew in this state.

“look at you, creaming all over my cock. god, you’re so pretty. pretty little slut.” the words just kept flowing as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

when he finally came, your hole was aching, abused, the sound of skin against skin the only thing you could focus on, mind cloudy. his cum was hot and filling when it spilled into you, your stomach doing summersualts at the feeling. his pace gradually began to slow, the sopping sound of him fucking his cum into you as he rode out his own high the only sound besides your ragged breaths. when he eventually stopped, he was leaning over you, sweaty foreheads pressed together, and he pushed one final bruising kiss to your lips that you gladly returned.

you were panting, chest rising and falling unevenly. “fuck, oh my god.” you reached up pull him back into another kiss, needing something to hold onto. it was an easy kiss, no thought going into its form, just knowing that lips were meant to be on each other and slotted together. his lips were so soft, and his fingers along your side were so soft, and his chest against yours was so soft and you were absolutely lost to everything.

sukuna finally pulled back to let you breath, knowing you were probably stupid enough to just keep pulling him in more and more and ignoring your lung capacity until the very last second unless he stopped you.

chests heaving, you stared at each other and he brought a thumb up to rub at your swollen lips. you flicked your tongue out to lick at the digit playfully and smiled. a laugh bubbled out of you and he returned the grin, his own deep chuckle vibrating through you where you were still pressed against each other.

it was laughing that you moved to push him to roll off of you. “oh my god, i can’t believe we just-” the hand that gripped your wrist, your own hands still planted on his chest, stopped you immediately. his smile had morphed back into one that was anything but sweet.

you were suddenly aware of the ache in your legs where they were still pressed over his shoulders and the dull throbbing of your pussy as it begged for a break, him still not having pulled out—the look on his face told you that you wouldn’t be getting a break from those sensations any time soon.

“who said we’re done?” his teeth glinted in the moonlight and god the line was so cliche and he must’ve known you’d hate it so much. what you hated even more was the throb in your core at his words despite all that. “wanted to cum in you at least once, but your tits-” he paused to squeeze one of them for emphasis, “are looking a little too clean.” body covered in sweat and marks all over your chest from his handiwork made you think clean wasn’t exactly the correct description, although you understood his sentiment.

surprise ridden expression falling away, you rose to meet his challenge, your own grin reflecting back. how would it feel when he came on your stomach, on your face, on your ass—anywhere and everywhere? would it be the same feeling as before when he’d spilled inside of you? (would you get to taste it?)

the thought was horrible, you knew, but the trickle of white out of your hole around his cock and dripping onto the sheets made you think maybe it was okay to be horrible for once.

“do your worst, king.”

#sukuna w consent is hot #IT’S NOT AS ROUGH AS I WANTED I’M SORRY #but this concept was *CHEF’S KISS* i tried to do it justice #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen sukuna

[bump1nthen1ght]

At the End of the Day

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader/Non-Binary Tentacle Monster (It/It’s pronouns used)

Genre: Fluff, First Times, Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Content up ahead (18+ only!), Tentacles, Slight mention of Aphrodisiacs

Word Count: 2904 Words

Summary: After an exhausting day at work, you find some unexpected comfort from under your bed

Request :Omg I love your Forest Fun fic💕 Could I req a NSFW with a tentacle monster, monster under your bed? I was thinking of a lonely reader, meeting their under the bed mate one night where they were hang their hand off the bed, hoping for a monster to hold it and love them, AND IT DOES! Tysm I love your writing!!!

You officially concluded it was a bad day when you collapsed on your bed at 12 AM, too tired to sleep and too dehydrated to cry your feelings out.

You had been on your feet for nine hours, been screamed at for three, and had barely had time to heat up a cup of ramen noodles before almost passing out from exhaustion. Not even the comfort of a screen could help, having forgotten to record the newest episode of your favorite show and having left your phone charger at home all day.

All in all, you 're having a bad time.

You sluggishly pull up your blankets, only in your underwear because putting on pajamas was too much work, and are left to look at your ceiling.

The bed is cold, not yet warmed by your body heat, and the sheets feel a little itchy. You groan, wondering if one thing, one thing, could go right today.

It’d be nice if you had someone to cuddle. Maybe a pillow would suffice, but it’s the thought of someone’s soft touch, playing with your hair, the sound of their heartbeat against your ear. Someone to massage out the stress from your back and shoulders, and remind you that everything would be alright; Whispering promises of a better tomorrow.

But that doesn’t just happen overnight.

You throw your hands over your face, groaning into your palms as you beg your mind to just let you sleep. Dragging your fingers down your cheeks, you let out a pitiful whine before you flip over to your stomach and try to find comfort that way.

You stuff your face into your pillow, one hand dangling off the side of your bed, fingers just barely brushing the carpet. You trace patterns into the fabric, wondering how nice it would feel to be wrapped in something that warm and cozy. Something big enough to envelope you whole, pinning you to the bed. Something with nice warm hands to fill yours, that will pet the back of knuckles and kiss them goodnight. Something that would travel up your wrist, hot and sensual, leaving a trail of warm ooze that-

Wait.

What the fuck.

Your hand jerks upwards, the liquid now running down your forearm glistening. You pull your face out your pillow and throw yourself to the other side of the bed, eyes racing back and forth across your room.

It’s the same as before, only moon light shining through your window and the low hum of your fan accompanying it. You take another look at your hand, streaks of slime dribbling down the sides. It’s warm, the consistency of aloe vera, and sort of smells like...vanilla?

With your heart pounding, you slowly inch over to the side of your bed, not daring to look too far over, too afraid of what you might see.

You fly backwards when the tip of something black and shiny comes up and over your sheets, tentatively tapping the side. It looks like it’s feeling around for something.

Was it looking for you?

You freeze as the tentacle reaches farther and farther up the sheets, thrashing around as you avoid it’s touch, until another one joins it in the search. You don’t move an inch, fearing any shifting of the blankets would alert the creature to your presence.

The tentacles reach about half-way across the bed, almost brushing against your toes, when they freeze. You hold a breath and watch them slowly slink back underneath, wondering if now is the time to lose your shit.

A pair of eyes-wait, no, two pairs of eyes peer up from the side, glowing yellow in the dark. Their pupils expand as they take in the darkness, darting around until they see you, curled up against the corner of your headboard.

There’s a soft churring noise, like the startup of a vacuum or the sound of birds singing. A tiny tentacle comes up, sheepishly tapping the sheets as the creature stares at you.

“....Alright?” It murmurs. It’s voice is scratchy, like it’s trying to make sounds it never has before.

“What?” Your mouth, barely making a whisper. The tentacle points to your hand, still covered in ooze.

“Smelled...sad.” The creature sniffs, slightly raising it’s head so you can see the bottom half of its face. It resembled that of a human, but the mouth extended all the way back to it’s jaw, hinged like a snake. You can see several rows of sharp teeth and the purplish tongue that comes out and wets it’s...lips? “Thought….I could help.” The tentacle draws a circle into your bed covers, the creature's eyes darting away as it’s skin flushes an even darker black; Indigos and deep violets highlight the contours of it’s face. “Don’t like it...when you are sad….”

You think you’ve lost your chance to have a breakdown, your mind already switching to numb out the wave of realizations you are going through right now. All you can focus on are the bashful look on the creature's face, the way it’s tentacles nervously tuts back and forth, and how warm your hand felt in its embrace. How nice it felt.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You mutter, finally able to make proper words. “I appreciate it.” You unconsciously rub your thumb over the palm of your slick hand, noting how hot it still is, how it relaxes your muzzles like a warm bath.

The creature just nods, resting it’s chin on the bed.

“Feeling...better?”

You shrug. “Uh...a little bit. A good hand-hold is always nice.”

At that, the creature perks up, and you can see some more tentacles come up the bedside. They beckon you to come closer, massaging the mattress and somehow leaving no trails of their slime. The creature swallows, rubbing the back of its neck.

“...Could make you feel….really good….If you...want.”

Your eyebrow quirks, the cogs of your brain working extra slow tonight. But the way the creature flushes, the way it’s tentacles writhe so sensually, you soon start to get the picture.

A logical person might have said no. Might’ve screamed, thrown on the light, and barricaded their bedroom. Probably called the authorities, or animal control.  

But isn’t this what you’d been asking for? And they were sweet enough to pick you up when you were down. Even asked for your permission afterwards, and made a conscious effort to not make a total mess of your bed.

Maybe it’ was the nine hours of pure hell, maybe it’s the fact it’s the most physical contact you’ve had in months, but there’s a part of you that really wants to say yes.

And it’s probably the sleep deprivation that makes you actually do it.

“Yeah. I-I think I would like that.” You slowly unfurl yourself, the creature's face lighting up as you slowly crawl over to it. It’s tentacles thrash around unabashedly, some too eager to even wait for you to get closer, tickling the tops of your knees and nipping at your fingers. You giggle as one finds a ticklish spot. “What’s your name?” You whisper, falling into the soft touches of it’s tentacles as you get closer and closer to the creature’s face. It’s still flushed purple, it’s eyes racing over your body.

“Ghitir.” It croaks, taking a deep breath as your oversized night shirt slips down your shoulder, exposing your skin to it’s greedy eyes. It’s flattering, how much it wants you.

You pull down your collar even more, letting it fall past your collarbone and show just a peak of your chest. A tentacle has begun crawling up your leg, the thick ooze leaving a warm trail along the outside of your thigh, and you gently grab it. Ghitir shudders as you stroke your thumb over the tentacle, feeling the way it’s muscles push against your palm.

It’s hot breath brushes across your face as you look into its four eyes, not realizing how close you had gotten to it. Your eyes fall it’s mouth, where it’s long tongue darts out for a second.

“My name’s _____.” You punctuate the sentence with a kiss, one which Ghitir reciprocated hungrily. It’s tongue along your lips before darting into your mouth, your hands running up the back of its neck as you sink deeper into the feeling.

The tentacles have grown bolder, several now pushing past the bottoms of your pajama shorts and others going under your shirt. One slides up the center of your chest, it’s tip barely touching your nipples as the others run along your pelvis. You can feel slime drip down your behind as several caress your ass, pulling the fabric of your shorts higher and higher as they squeeze. The liquid has gotten even hotter, making your skin buzz and tingle.

All the sensations come together in a perfect tidal wave, so much so that even the rubbing of your pajamas against your crotch has you keeling into Ghitir, thrusting your hips against your mattress. Ghitir churrs, pulling it’s tongue out of your mouth to lather your jaw and neck in kisses. There’s a slight sting as you feel claws dig into your lower back, your hazy eyes glancing downwards to see Ghitir’s four, vaguely humanoid-arms, push you closer to it’s body. It pants and yanks on the shirt fabric, urging you to take it off. You do so in one quick motion, but before you let Ghitir lunge for another kiss, you yank it’s shoulders upwards and onto your bed, revealing all of its body to you.

It’s torso and arms connect to a mass of rolling tentacles, big and small, all of which latch onto you as you fall back onto the bed. Some squirm under your waistband, pushing your shorts and underwear past your crotch and down to your thighs. You shimmy your legs and kick them off your ankles, a shiver running down your spine as cold muscle presses up against your sex. Ghitir leans down into the crook of your neck, exhaling hot breath as it’s cold skin presses into your chest. Your nipples pebble and you run your hands down it’s back, nails digging into it’s clenched muscles.

Ghitir’s tentacles rub your crotch, undulating while one slinks down to your entrance. Beads of liquid smear off of it and into your skin, it’s tip just ghosting over your hole. The knot in your stomach burns hotter, your crotch thrusting upwards, trying to catch that fleeting sensation. But Ghitir is focused on covering your neck and shoulders in sloppy kisses. Sweat drops down your neck and it licks up toward your jaw, shuddering a groan from the taste.

Your head is hazy and your eyes have a hard time focusing, but you're able to feel your way to a tentacle, grabbing it by the thickest part and rubbing your thumb up it’s side. Ghitir lurches forward, it’s tongue lolling out with a shaky squeal. The tentacle teasing your entrance seizes, pressing up against the sensitive skin but not quite pushing through. You move your hand farther up the tentacle, squeezing intermittently before you reach the tip. You brush the pad of your index finger over it and a drop of slime drips down your wrist. One pair of Ghitir’s hands has moved down to your hips, it’s claws slightly pinching your skin as you press your finger down on it’s tip. It bites back a groan, rolling it’s lower half into the bed when you lick a stripe up the tentacle. It’s slime isn’t salty like human sweat, but sweet, almost like nectar.

You press your abdomen upwards, pressing kisses against the tentacle, your other hand grabbing another and half-hazardly jerking it up and down. Drool is dripping down Ghitir’s face, it’s eye’s locked onto you. You wink, erotically sticking your tongue out as you lick up, and up, and up, until just the tip rests on your bottom lip. With a tentative lick, you open your mouth wide and suck down the tentacle like a lollipop.

Ghitir’s forehead falls against yours. It’s tentacles convulse as you suck in your cheeks and move your head up and down, the tentacle in your mouth slowly stirring to action. It massages your tongue, shyly moving further and further into your mouth. Drool and Ghitir’s slime drips down your jaw as you let it slacken, the tentacle quickly hitting the back of your throat. The tip presses against your gag reflex, pulling back quickly once it hears you choke. But you give Ghitir a thumbs up, keeping a tight suction around the tentacle as it gently begins to face fuck you.

You can feel Ghitir’s hand’s shaking as it pounds your mouth, releasing more and more slime as it shudders inside your lips. You stop moving your head, letting Ghitir thrust into your mouth at it’s own pace, and reach forward and feel around for the tentacle pressed against your crotch. Your vision is dotted with black spots, but you eventually find the tip pressed so close to your entrance, pulling and urging it forward. Your eye’s shift toward Ghitir, it’s face locked onto the way you take it’s tentacle in your mouth. It’s tongue is hanging out of it’s mouth, cheeks nearly glowing with it’s bright blush, but it’s coherent enough to understand what you want.

The tentacle slithers out of your hand and presses against your soaked hole, dripping with it’s slime and your sweat. The tip finally pushes past your entrance and you can feel your eyes roll backwards as it stretches you open.

The tentacle is slightly smaller than the one in your mouth and although the pressure is relieving, it still leaves you wanting more. You jerk your hips forward, asking for it to punish your hole like it’s punishing your mouth. Ghitir nods, one of it’s hands stroking the side of your jaw as another tentacle slips inside of you, twisting with it’s twin and pressing against your walls. You moan once more, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. The sensations are overwhelming, deliciously overwhelming.

The tentacles inside your curl around each other, searching for that sensitive spot inside you. The tentacle in your mouth starts to thrust erratically, more and more slime coating the back of your throat as it begins to spasm. You clamp your lips around the base, coating it in your saliva as it nears it’s climax.

Your legs feel shaky and buzzed, your movements uncoordinated as you focus on breathing and chasing your own orgasm,The pair of Ghitir’s hands on your hips help your lower half hump against its tentacles. With a yelp and quick jolt of your body, Ghitir realizes it’s finally found the perfect spot, the one that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling backwards. The tentacle in your mouth slows down, edging itself on your tongue and your lips, but the tentacles down below pick up the pace. They pull out until only their intertwined tips remain, right before surging back inside you.

Your bed springs squeak as Ghitir continues to pound you into the mattress, it’s free pair of hands roaming and groping all unattended parts of your body as you throw your hips upward with every thrust. It pinches your nipples and lays wet kisses all down your collarbone, your chest coated in slime, saliva, and sweat. The tentacle continues to just rub itself all over the inside of your mouth, shaking as it teases itself nice and slow. Tears drip down your face as you feel the rubber band snapping, the fire in your belly about to combust. You moan around the tentacle, gurgling a couple of “Yes, yes, yes!”

Ghitir purrs as your body begins to seizing up, it’s claws digging into your pelvis as the tentacles pick up their speed. The tentacle in your mouth retracts, gushes saliva and slime falling out of your mouth. But Ghitir quickly replaces it with its tongue, petting the side of your face as you make out.

There, there, there, right there, right there- The moan you let out is almost a scream, punctuated by a strong “Oh fuck!” as hot streams of Ghitir’s cum flood your insides. The smaller tentacle spasms, squirting it’s juices all over your sweaty chest as Ghitir bites its lip with a groan. You can feel your body slacken, your chest heaving as you collapse into your sheets, leaving only tiny kisses against Ghitir’s lips. It follows you as your head sinks into your pillow, finally pulling away to let you catch your breath.

Ghitir rests its forehead against the center of your chest, its tentacles slowly slithering out of you, dripping slime all over your bed. Its chest is still alight with a purple blush, their body shaking from all of the exertion.

You find yourself stroking the side of their face, mind still fuzzy as you trace the contours of their cheekbones and enjoy the unusual texture of it’s skin. Ghitir’s four eyes peak open, just as delirious as you are.

“Thanks.” You suck in a deep breath, “That was...amazing.”

It smiles, nuzzling its cheek into your stomach, a small purr rumbling through you.

“No...problem..”

Ghitir’s tentacles lay sprawled out below you, lazily petting your calves and feet as Ghitir draws lazy circles into your stomach.

In no time at all, you fall asleep.

#my writing #Tentacle monster #reader insert #gender neutral reader #monster/human #monster x reader #tentacle monster x reader

[fqiryspit]

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘦𝘷𝘪 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Summary: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐘/𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞?

.

cw: College!AU, Full smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, getting absolutely railed, Relationship Problems, Love Triangles, Smut, Historia is pregnant with Erens baby, Eren and Y/n are together, Levi is with Petra, Sad sex, Y/n is lowkey depressed, Eren is bad at feelings, Starbucks Levi, Levi is Bad at Feelings, Historia the Hoe, mega toxic, Toxic Eren.

playlist

Chapter 4: 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺

Masterlist

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"Actually, everything is going amazing" Levi said, his mouth twitching into a smile for a slipt second, just to immediately fall to its original unamused frown

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say amazing, Levi" you said smirking,

"Shut up" he scoffed, hiding his face which you can almost assume is as red as the Santa hats you have scattered around the Starbucks

"Awww it's good! I didn't think Petra would step up!"

"Yeah me either"

"So, you gonna take her to meet your mom for Christmas?"

"It's December 1st...don't get ahead of yourself"

"Come on I love the holidays! No one wants to talk with me about it!"

"Fine, Are you and Eren doing anything?"

"Probably not...We might spend the night at Historias so Eren can be there for Alma Christmas morning"

"Isn't she like...what? 7 months old? she won't even remember this."

"Levi!" you playfully smack his arm

"Theses are important memories not just for Alma but for Eren and Historia...he wants to be there...I find it adorable" you smile as you make Hot Chocolate for a little girl waiting with her mom in the drive threw

"Hey, can you give this to the window? It's for a little girl so put on your happy face"

"This is my happy face"

"That's the problem" you giggle as he scoffs and grabs the drink out of your hand

"H-hey" you turn to see Eren

"Oh Hey!"

"Is everything alright?" you ask,

"Oh Yeah, yeah... it's just you didn't come home and I didn't know if you were staying later tonight or-"

"Yeah, I usually stay later when you're at Historias...why aren't you there? Did something happen?"

"No nothing happened, I just wanted to leave a little early to spend time with you" he smiles

"Oh alright! Well, my shift ends in...10 minutes actually! I'll be out in a moment" you smile at him, his cheeks turn to a marron hew under his tanned skin

"Okay, I'll be waiting in the car for you then" he smiles and leaves back to the car

"What was that about?" Levi asks, coming back from the window

"Nothing, it was a little strange tho...he came home from Historias early to spend time with me..."

"How is that strange?"

"He...uhm...he never sets aside time with Alma for me..." you mumble as you fidget your fingers together

"Well, looks like both of our relationships are changing for the better" Levi puts a hand on your shoulder

"Wow, I've never seen you be so optimistic before...what has Petra done to you?" you giggle

"Last time I try and be nice to you"  he scoffs as he walks away to make another drink

"Wait Levi I'm sorry!" you say laughing,

.

"Hey baby" Eren says as you strap your seatbelt on

"Hey" you smile and he starts driving off

you both sit in silence...for the first time in you don't know how long, it was a comfortable silence

your eyes move to the side, scanning his outfit

a tight gray t-shirt with black jeans, his hair snuggly tucked away into a bun with a few strands escaping, his silver key necklace dangling around his collar as he hums to "Slow down" by Chase Atlantic, that was playing since you came into the car

he looked so fucking good.

you both finally made it back to the apartment, walking down the hallway, thinking about all the dirty things you will have to do to yourself in the shower...Eren grabs your hand

before you can even say anything, you were pinned against the wall being roughly kissed as Erens hand being to explore your body, feeling his hand squeeze your thigh you moaned into his mouth,

"fuck, you have no fucking clue how much I've been needing you all week"

you felt his throbbing cock against your core as his lips began to travel to your jaw, neck, and collar bone

he picked you up and place you on the bed, he removed his shirt and started to remove your shirt and bra

"Y-you think I wouldn't have heard your moans from the shower?"

"If you're horny come to me, baby..."

you nodded as a whimper escaped your lips, you felt your core heating up by the minute

now your chest is exposed, his lips latched onto your nipple...his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud

"fuck Eren~"

you were going to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming but Eren did that for you by lightly nibbling on your nipple

giving the other breast attention, he suddenly stopped...

"lay down"

you did just that and he started taking off your pants

being left with only your lacy black panties he stared in awe at the sight, missing your pussy...

"you have no idea what you do me..." he said as he stripped the panties off of your skin, seeing the mess you've created

"so fucking wet...all from me?" he smirked at the sight

"of course" you whined

his tongue latched onto your clit, groaning at the contact so you felt vibrations all-around your cunt making you moan

"fuck, your so fucking good" you moaned,

your hand found its way to his hair, burying himself into your touch starved pussy

slipping his tongue into your cunt making you moan his name louder

flicking his tongue over and over again you felt your high coming

"Eren I think I'm-" you got interrupted by cumming all around Erens mouth, licking every drop from your swollen pussy.

"I need to be in you, right fucking now" he removed his pants and his boxers and, oh how you've missed the sight of his cock~

his tip rubbing up and down around your slit making you cry out,

"Please just fuck me"

Without a second thought, he rammed into you making you scream out his name.

after letting you adjust he started moving in and out, taking all but the tip out and slamming it into your tight hole again and again...

"you're so fucking tight" he hissed

"Only I can make you this dazed, only I can make you this fucking cock drunk..." he groaned,

why is he saying this? he knows already that only he fucks me? why is-

oh...Levi

he is fucking jealous...of Levi

a smirk found your lips as he fucked you

"Understand?"

"Yes!" you moaned, if he was cheating he wouldn't have cared to see you with another guy...Eren being jealous is a sign he still cares for you...cares for this relationship, right?

"Good." he groaned, you felt his cock twitch in you...suddenly he came around your walls

"I fucking love you" he moaned as he came, thrusting to ride out his orgasm...

he fucked you over and over again...all night long

you can't remember how many orgasms you had, they all blended into each other as you were cock drunk about him

but the next day, you and Eren woke up at 1:00 pm, you couldn't walk so Eren held you in bed all morning -well more like all noon- and ordered you both breakfast, and you ate naked in bed...

his phone kept going off, he grabbed it after the 5th ding

"Who is it?" you ask,

"Tch, Historia.." he turned off his phone and motioned for you to carry on with whatever you were talking about

your cheeks were bright pink at the affection Eren was giving you, you felt so special

but...why was he ignoring Historia? he usually drops everything when she texts or calls him...

he even left when you made dinner for the both of you just to tuck Alma in...

so why was he disregarding her now? what made him ignore her, and spend time with you?

did he finally understand that the relationship was falling apart and now he's trying to save it? or...did something happen?

Chapter 5

˜”*°•.˜”*°• see you soon •°*”˜.•°*”˜

#eren x reader #eren #aot #attack on titan #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jeager #eren x you #eren smut #snk #eren yeager smut #eren yaegar #eren x y/n #mikasa #armin arlert #shingeki no kyoujin #eren fluff #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren jaeger smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #smut #eren jeagar #eren aot #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x fem!reader smut #eren x afab!reader #eren yaeger #giving eren head AUH-

[shorkbrian]

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex, 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

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“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes -  got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you. 

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.  

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different. 

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap. 

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dark katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki #Yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #tw.noncon

[cinnamonest]

Kaeya is really touchy with his darling, right? So then,, what are the other Yan’s love languages?

NICE I love the love languages stuff! Sorry this was from April but I'm finally getting to it! Usually the two are similar, but sometimes people have different ways of expressing love versus how they want to receive it, so I'll elaborate on that as well. Enjoy my rareish semi-fluffy stuff, boys and which of the 5 love languages they are :3 Kazuha - quality time

Honestly, he's a simple boy. All he really needs to be happy and feel mutual love is sit with you close to him, arms wrapped around you, preferably with you returning the gesture. He has a lot of feelings and fears for the future, lots of emotions all bottled up, so someone to listen to him means a lot. Taking the time to listen to all he has to say makes him sheepish and embarrassed even, but as long as you assure him it's ok, he'll keep coming back for more of your listening ears.

Also, he likes to go on walks. These can be talking or not, sometimes he just likes walking in silence. Either way, accompanying him on said walks is a way to endear yourself to him and show him you love him. Sometimes it's just silently walking down beaches or pathways or in circles around the ship deck, sometimes it's him venting, sometimes it's him gushing about this or that... either way, basically providing him with an outlet for his emotions and spending time with him is what matters.

Zhongli -  gifts, quality time

Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness he's big on spoiling a darling. I mean let's be real it's probably someone else's money OR this is in an era where he could just make some, so he will literally get you anything you could ask for, hell, anything he sees you looking at, tons of things you have no use for but he just likes the way your eyes light up all the same. It makes you happy, and that's what love is about, right? Wanting to make people you love happy.

However, for himself, it's a quality time thing, similar to Kazuha's where it's a lot of listening. He has a lot to say sometimes and can get to rambling about details of this or that thing he somehow manages to be an expert on, and while he usually catches himself early on, sometimes he can REALLY go on a while. He knows you don't have any clue what he's talking about, and probably don't really care, but if you sudden bring up a detail that shows you were listening -- it makes him feel oddly warm inside, like you actually think what he talks about is important and care about it. It makes him chuckle a bit, pat your head. He tells you if you're bored you don't have to listen.... so if you insist on doing so anyway, well, that just makes him feel even better inside, oddly validated in a way.

Kaeya  -  words of affirmation, touch

Is sex a love language?

But in all seriousness, yes as per the opening of the ask, he's very touchy. By 'touch' in this case, that... does translate to sex about 90% of the time. Can you blame him?? It's because he loves you! If he didn't love you he wouldn't wanna get his dick in you so bad! It's love that makes him so handsy and touchy, always rubbing you and running the edges of his fingers under your shirts and skirts and shorts even in public, hands wrapping around your waist and hips, sneaking fondles here and there... and it's out of love that you get railed all the time. His peak happiness is just being balls deep inside you, bodies pressed up against each other, moving slow and gentle and gradually building up... and he wants you to feel like that's love, too. To be honest he gets genuinely sad if you don't see it that way, or if you don't understand it as an expression of love. It seems so natural and innate that being pressed up close together should invoke feelings of love, right?

As for how he understands love as a recipient, well, pretty much the same thing, any sign of eagerness or willingness or especially initiative to fuck sets his brain off. But also, he's weak to any attempts to boost his ego. Say anything positive about him and he'll get excited and let it go to his head, particularly if your words of choice make him feel strong or powerful or capable.

Also speaking of touch, surprisingly big on handholding, especially in public. Sure part of it is a "signaling to others to back off" sort of thing, but he just likes the warmth of your hand as well.

Diluc - touch

It might be a bit surprising, given the stoic nature but... just give this man a hug. Please.

Being inside you is very very nice of course, but he's also notably a cuddly person when you get past the rough exterior. He likes to just sit you in his lap and hold you, spoon you in bed at night, etc.

And as for giving, he doesn't really have knowledge of how to go about other things. He's not good with words at all, he doesn't really know what gifts to get, and despite his affection he's not really submissive enough of a person to go about acts of service, and he's very busy, so while he might get quality time, it's not too often. In the end he doesn't really know how to do anything else, so if he really wants to express affection, the only way he can really think of is just wrapping his arms around you and squeezing. Sometimes a little too hard, like sir I'm asphyxiating please

Also it takes him a while to work up to it. At first he's just too nervous and can barely touch you without retracting his hand back out of nervousness, but he gets used to it.

Razor - quality time, touch

The others are kind of foreign concepts, really. But touch and time is how his kind bond! It's what he's used to. Nuzzling his face into your shoulders and neck and wrapping arms around you and holding you tight. He will often just cling to you physically in some way, holding your wrist in his hand or reaching out to embrace you at random. Of course, sex is a part of it, gotta have that too, it means love to him because he gets the urge whenever he thinks about loving you! And not gonna lie, he tries to remember you don't really like it but, he'll lick you every now and then too. It just comes naturally because he gets excited 'cause he loves you so much!! Lick lick.

Quality time comes in many forms. Every second is quality time in its own way, but especially naps in the sun and walks through the woods. Fun fact: wolf mates go on little "walks" together occasionally, breaking off from the rest of the pack to get alone time. It's fun! You can run through the woods with him! The naps combine the two expressions of touch and time, getting to spend lots of quiet, valuable time, all while snuggled up close. It's nice.

He doesn't really understand if you try to communicate love otherwise, but he'll kind of grasp that it's nice. But really, in the end he wants touch and time too. It's the only form he really understands. The rest just leave him a bit "??" But a nuzzle and a nap in the sun are things he understands perfectly.

Xingqiu - gifts, words of affirmation

The first is more how he shows, the second how he receives. It's a rather selfish form of love, really, because it benefits him as well and it's not exactly difficult. He doesn't have to put a lot of work into gifting, since he can pretty much get anything he asks for out of his father, and even if he says no to something, well, father won't notice a few hundred thousand mora gone from the stash of money kept in his bedroom, right? And he loves giving you gifts because of your reaction! You smile and say thank you and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside... and he likes to think that maybe you feel indebted to him, maybe you're awed and impressed by how he manages to find you such expensive and rare things, maybe it makes you look up to him and see him as superior a bit. Hopefully.

However, because he's got so much wealth already, so gifts don't really do much for him. He responds well to praise, though, especially if you compliment him on the things he cares about, like his sword skills, his writing, his vigilantism. Make him feel like the protagonist he is inside his head, and he'll be beaming with pride and happiness, it makes him feel important, which translates to feeling loved.

Chongyun - quality time, acts of service

In particular, he likes to have you around when he's training. You don't have to train yourself, just be by his side. It makes him more motivated, so he's noticed. Not to mention, he likes showing off if possible to impress you.

Also, he likes having someone to vent to. He's a sweet boy, but he has his stressors and frustrations. He's used to strict self-discipline and normally refrains from talking about his feelings too much, but if you make him feel like your presence is a safe place for him to come to, he will end up almost becoming dependent on getting to emotionally unload on you every day, recalling all the details of every bad thing that happened and waiting for your soft comfort.

Here, "acts of service" is more like... consideration. Little moments where he's reminded you remember his needs and care about them. You make food and note that you made it especially free of anything hot, just for him! Or you make his little popsicles when he forgets, you help him deal with the damage and destruction of his most recent episode. Little acts like that make him feel appreciated, loved and cared for.

Childe - acts of service

Similar to Kaeya and touch, acts of service is... yeah it's basically sex. It falls more into the category of acts of service because it's a little different in nature from Kaeya's -- he loves normal sex of course, and cuddles are nice too, but in his mind really loving him is about taking initiative and doing things to him... in other words, to translate that in simple terms... blow him. Please. It would make him the happiest man in the world. Or ride him. Just anything that feels like you taking some initiative and making him feel wanted. ...And making him feel worshipped is nice too, getting you down on your knees in front of him or any act of service and submission gives him a sort of high from the ego boost and masculine validation.

And he's similar with how he expresses it himself. Most likely candidate to eat you out against your will. One infuriating and potentially humiliating thing about him is he's one of the most insistent to ensure you cum every single time, if you don't cum from him fucking you he'll just force your legs open and eat you out or shove his fingers into you until you do. Because he loves you and orgasms equate to love in his mind.

Venti - acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts

It's more on the giving end for him -- specifically, he can be a very sappy individual when he's in love, to a point it's nauseating to the people around you, really. But he spends a lot of time writing you poems and songs. To him, song is one of the utmost powerful expressions of love. It sort of combines the service and words -- the writing itself is a labor of love, but the words are filled with praises. He genuinely spends a lot of time on it, though, and it's really important to him that you like the things he makes and plays for you, and will continuously modify his next pieces to what he perceives as your taste. He's a bit of a perfectionist on stuff like that.

Venti is actually rather shy when it comes to receiving love. He tends to be very no, you don't have to do that for me! And things like gifts can make him feel a bit guilty, so... you just have to give him stuff he likes so much he's too busy indulging to feel guilt. Namely alcohol. He gets a bit red in the face, but, deep down he likes words of affirmation and compliments too, even the lightest of sweet words he'll replay in his head over and over for days after you say them.

Bennett - acts of service

One of the quickest ways to endear yourself to him is the simple act of helping him. This can manifest in several ways, such as healing his wounds when he's all scraped up or just come back from an adventure, helping him patch up his clothes that get ripped so much, helping him find some thing he lost in the woods yet again, or following him on one of said adventures. People don't really have him in mind too often, he tends to get forgotten a lot and left to handle things all on his own, and as a result, someone who reaches out to help him has a significant impact on him, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about it and the warm feeling it gives him to know that someone cares.

As a result, he starts basically mimicking the same behaviors because it's all he really knows how to do. He wants to give you the same warm happiness that you give him, so he tries to help you out with the things you need, complete tasks he knows would be helpful to you. Unfortunately for him, this tends to backfire as something usually goes wrong and it turns into a mess that he fears will just make you hate him. Poor baby.

Albedo - quality time

He's one of those people that really loves to just spend time in the presence of the people he loves -- you don't have to be doing something together, or the same thing. Even if you're just reading a book or drawing or something on your own, he likes you to be nearby him. It's kinda cute how if you go wandering off or go into another room, he'll wait a minute, then silently kinda come peeking around the corner to check on you because?? Why did you leave? Did he do something to upset you? He's too proud to explicitly ask you to come back, but he might blatantly follow you to the room you're in, claiming it's just better lighting in here, or the other room was too cold, or some other excuse.

He still likes doing things with you, though, too. Another favorite is late night conversations, the kind you get into once you're already laying in bed in the dark, pressed against each other and mumbling little thoughts that occur to you before you drift off to sleep, questions about tomorrow, or a hey remind me to do this or that, that sort of thing. Little conversations you never really finish, your voices get softer and sleepier with each moment, you eventually close your eyes as you talk back and forth, until one of you eventually doesn't get a response, and then drifts off themselves.... and in the morning neither of you remember who was the last person to speak or what the conversation was even about in the end.

Xiao - touch

He just doesn't... get much else. Words are hard. He doesn't know whether this or that gift or gesture is considered appropriate to present to a human as  sign of love, and those kinds of things, words and gifts and stuff, embarrass him too much... and he doesn't every really know whether or not he's correct when interpreting your actions and words either. How does he know the gift isn't just because you wanted to be nice, or that the nice things you said were just meant mildly, and he's just indulging in wishful thinking when he thinks it means more? Ugh. It's too troublesome to have to deal with.

But touch... it's straightforward and easy and impossible to misunderstand. And it's also objectively the best, he thinks, even without the issues in understanding it's just what he feels the most natural urge towards. Why would anyone do any differently? Why do humans waste their time giving each other gifts and compliments and stuff when they could just do the thing that feels so much better than that other stuff? It confuses him. He doesn't want material goods, he just wants to cuddle you and put his dick in you. Yeah it... also translates to sex here, similar to Kaeya. Like, he likes it when you kiss his forehead and snuggle up close, but those things will inevitably result in wanting more. And he loves the rests you two take, half-asleep soundly wrapped up and bodies pressed close, spooning with his arms latched onto you. It's just that said rests/naps are almost always very much naked due to being after cumming in you a few times.

Scaramouche - acts of service, words of affirmation, touch

I mean, you're kinda forced into the acts of service thing, but the idea is that you start to perform said acts willingly, or without needing to be commanded. Eventually you get to where you do things on your own initiative, and he likes to think maybe you just want to (and not because you've been beaten into doing it so many times it's become instinctive, definitely not that). A lot of it is just tasks, but similar to Childe's acts of service, it's definitely a sex thing too, wants you to show initiative and do things on your own -- not that you won't likely get told not to do shit like that without permission, but he still does like it, internally.

Words of praise are similar. Say anything nice about him and he'll probably accuse you of lying or trying to manipulate him/get something, but deep down he kinda thrives on anything positive you have to say or think about him. Not that you'd ever know.

As for how he actually shows love, well... does... he...? Yes actually, primarily it's a touch thing. Not always pleasant touches, but touches. It's similar to how other yans equate different things with love, like Childe sees orgasms as a form of love, to him possession is the utmost expression of "love" in the sense that he perceives it. Possession, to own a thing completely and entirely, to have full power over something... that sort of connection is incredibly intimate, when you think about it. It's a connection on a deep level, it's loving. So anything that expresses possession -- pleasant or unpleasant for you -- is thus an expression of love.

#lena's asks #atml #scheduled post

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

#henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #asks answered #captain syverson #captain sy x reader