#honestly whenever I get one of these it's like

[luveline]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k

fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3

cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

“Can you stay still?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”

You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?

Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.

“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.

His hands pause just under where your bra begins.

You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”

He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”

The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.

“Did you lock your door?” you ask.

Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.

This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.

“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.

“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”

“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”

“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”

You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”

“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”

You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”

“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.

“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.

You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.

You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.

His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”

“Yeah, please. Please.”

His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.

“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.

Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.

“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.

You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.

Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.

“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”

“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.

You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.

His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.

It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.

You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”

“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”

He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.

“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.

“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”

“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”

“Please.”

You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.

He sucks in air through his teeth.

“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”

He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”

“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”

You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”

He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.

His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.

You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”

You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”

“Please, angel.”

You lean in for a kiss.

Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.

You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.

“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.

He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”

“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.

Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.

“Do you need me to?” you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”

“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.

“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”

“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”

You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”

A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.

“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.

“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.

“I should fix that, right?”

Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”

Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.

He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.

You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”

He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”

“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.

“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”

He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.

Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.

His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”

You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.

“I am–”

“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”

He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.

It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.

He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.

He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.

Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”

“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”

“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.

He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.

“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.

Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”

He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.

You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.

“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.

He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.

“There?” he asks softly,

“Please, right there.”

He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect– do I need to stop?”

“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”

“Promise?”

“Promise– oh.”

The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.

“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.

“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.

“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.

“What?”

“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”

You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.

“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”

“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.

“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”

You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.

He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.

You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. “Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”

He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”

You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.

You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.

Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”

He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.

He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you– like before–”

Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.

You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.

Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.

He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”

“You sure?” he asks.

It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”

It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.

“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.

You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”

When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.

Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.

“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.

“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.

Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.

He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.

His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.

“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.

You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”

—

Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.

“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”

“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.

“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.

“Your legs are hurting.”

You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”

He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”

“You have that effect on people.”

“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.

You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.

“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”

You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.

“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”

He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”

“I could say otherwise.”

Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.

“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.

“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”

He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”

You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.

Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.

Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”

You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”

“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”

“Any more sex facts for me?”

Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”

You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”

He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”

“We can still try.”

“Um. Can I have a banana first?”

“I’m kidding!”

“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer and bombshell reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut

[her-favorite]

QUIET; M. STURNIOLO

MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER

warnings: this is honestly my second time writing head-cannon thingies (and ive literally been writing since like 2020 😭) so i apologize if they’re not too good!

a/n: there’s a bunch of talkative!reader fics on here, so i thought i’d be a little self-indulgent and write something for the quiet matt girls 🫶🏻

SYNOPSIS: Matt with a quiet girlfriend <3

-

Matt Finds Comfort in Your Silence

- being out in public together, it was easy to get overwhelmed by groups of people. Matt tends to reach out for you and grabs your hand, for both of your benefits. Keeping you by him made both of you more comfortable, as you’re closer to each other and can stay by the other.

- Staying with you when you go quiet is comforting to Matt. He doesn’t grow overwhelmed by any loud noises or unnecessary sounds, his once tense body relaxing in the safe silence.

Speaking Through Silence is Easier

- whenever you get anxious, it’s easier to keep your mouth shut as to not draw attention to yourself. That being said, Matt always has an eye on you no matter the occasion. Being your boyfriend, he’s grown accustomed to your body language, noticing the way you fidget and when you get too overwhelmed by something. Some times communicating with each other through silence is easier, especially in public. As soon as Matt notices your anxiety rising, he’ll take your hand, say something quick to his brothers and bring you to an isolated area with him.

Matt Loves Knowing You’re Listening to Him

- if Matt ever goes on a random tangent, he loves that he doesn’t have to repeat himself several times just to get your attention. No disrespect to his brothers, but Matt enjoys not having to be loud to get you to listen. Listening comes naturally to you, given your more reserved nature, and it makes Matt feel appreciated knowing that you’ll always be there to listen and make him feel better when he’s anxious.

Being Alone with You Feels Safe

- lying in his room together, he loves the feeling of you with him. With the sounds of his ceiling fan and, maybe, his tv playing, he adores the physical intimacy of the situation, of you lying on him and relaxing. Occasional words are exchanged, but Matt likes to keep his voice down, just so he doesn’t bother you. In that moment, he feels like he could do anything or say anything and you’d still stay by him; the safeness he feels with you is comforting.

He Loves Having you Close to Him

- not being too chatty, it’s easier to physically gravitate towards Matt. He handles you with open arms, never turning down the opportunity to hold you. The feeling of you in his arms, whether you’re watching a show on their couch or in his bed, his body immediately relaxes with your touch. Matt could be having an extremely overwhelming day, but as soon as he comes home and sees you, all he needs to calm down is to be in your arms.

He Doesn’t Feel Pressured

- being similar in a verbal way, Matt never feels forced to talk when he’s around you. He knows that if he doesn’t feel like talking, he doesn’t have to; you taught him that it was okay. Hanging out with you was comfortable, a nice quiet that wasn’t awkward or bad, but one you both peacefully sunk into.

Matt Loves Hearing More About You

- being reserved, it took a little bit to get you to reveal more about yourself to Matt. He was patient with you, waiting for the right time you felt comfortable and paying attention to every word you say. Being a patient person, especially with you, he wasn’t bothered by the private things you kept to yourself in the beginning of your relationship. He understood the way you felt and let you take all the time you needed, enjoying hearing all the stories you revealed to him once you felt comfortable.

He Loves Your Relationship with his Brothers

- given, Nick and Chris are loud, talkative people, almost the entire opposite of you. But you loved them all the same. With their blathering nature, you find comfort in it, silently knowing that you don’t have to put on some performance because they somehow always have something to talk about.

- even with Chris’ periodic teasing, you’ve grown used to their random sentences, learning to love them more as days go by. Matt’s brothers liked the idea of him dating someone that was near the same page as him, whether you were closer or farther away from his situation, because he won’t feel alone in his problems and the way he feels. Besides, Nick loves gossiping about random guys to you and Chris loves making you listen to whatever new music he finds because they know you love listening to their random shit.

But He Also Loves Listening to you Ramble

- on days where you have more energy and feel your best, it’s easy to say whatever will come to your mind. And Matt loves it. Whenever those days do come, constant giggles are heard from your boyfriend as he enjoys the stupid things that leave your mouth.

No Matter the Day, loud or quiet, lazy or energetic, Matt loves you all the same.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you

[kenntolog]

Other than CoolBF! sukuna and loser gf! Reader, I can't believe many people aren't talking about loner! Choso 😭😭 it's so cute?? 😭 The MYRIAD of things that can happen to them like reader asking choso to do make up on him because 1. It's cute and 2. She wants to practice her make up skills 😭 both are cute

𝝑𝝔 an: thank u thank u thaaank uu, lovely anon!! hope you enjoy this <33 read more here!!

choso literally teleports to your side as soon as you call out for him from your bedroom. he puts away every task he had in hand and walks into your room, giving you a questioning look before he notices you sitting on your bed with a pile of cosmetic stuff by your side. you beckon him to come sit with you and crawl on his lap, making him hiss from the unexpectedness.

"choo~" you cup his cheeks with both hands and beam at him brightly. "can i do your make up?"

honestly, you can do anything you want to him as long as you're in his lap and he can run his hands all over your body, just like he's doing now. so he just smiles at you lovingly and nods in agreement, his heart warming when you squeal in happiness and lean down to peck his cheeks repeatedly.

it's also a bonus that he gets to be so close to you and listen to your endless rambles and watch your expressive face, one of his favorite things to do. to be honest, half of the things you say he doesn't understand generally, but he still nods and says 'sure' whenever you look at him for confirmation.

you put a lot of stuff on his face, he has no idea what is a 'primer' or 'conceaaler', but he knows what is a moisturizer since you force him to at least do that every morning and night. you dab about a million products on his face with a spongy thing while you hum along to your favorie songs and tell him to shut up whenever he joins you too.

"choso! you're gonna ruin the lip combo, stop!" "sorry, pup."

when it's time to put on eye makeup, choso has the opportunity to witness the cute face you make whenever you’re extremely focused on something; brows pinched together and the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth as one of your hands tilts his face to the right angle while the other glides the eyeliner over his eyelid. it kind of tickles and he has the urge to tickle you back, but he doesn't want to ruin your hard work so he just stays silent until you are finished.

"oh!" you exclaim as you pull away to look at him. your eyes are glimmering with joy and pride so he takes it that he doesn't look like a clown. "cho, you look so pretty!"

you give him a small mirror, "i do?"

one thing that surprises him is that his dark undereyes are almost fully covered while the tattoo on his nose is visible. his lips are also not colourless anymore, now contoured with soft pink and a covered with a lipstick that's a bit darker and a gloss. there's a matching shade of artficial blush covering his cheeks and his brows look more neat. his eyes have curled lashes and drawn ends, looking more graceful than ever.

"do you like it, choso?"

"if you like it, then i love it."

your smile is so wide that choso can't help his own from stretching on his coloured lips. if you're going to smile like this for him every time then he's ready to be your doll forever.

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk choso #choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #fluff

[brunnerasposts]

"She"

S.H. x Female Reader

Summary: All while you're getting ready for a surprise date, Steve is preparing to tell you for the first time that he loves you.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of st2-4, bit of a clumsy reader, fluff, dating, mentions of nudity, swearing, Steve just admiring you honestly

Additional Note: Once again, it has been a hot minute since I've written any fanfiction of any kind so please excuse my poor writing 🥲

If there was anything that Steve Harrington had a soft spot for, it was watching you get ready.

From the way you delicately dragged the mascara wand up your eyelashes to the way you always seemed to hum the same melody while spritzing your neck with perfume, it captured his heart every damn time.

This time, in particular, he was antsier. His leg bounced as he sat on your bed, keeping his hands busy by holding onto one of the stuffed animals you kept on your bed. This was a big day for him. For the both of you, though you didn't know it yet.

While you were showering, Steve spent the time rehearsing the scene in his head. He'd take you home after an incredible day, give you a kiss goodnight after walking you to your door like any gentleman would, and just say it. The three words he'd been itching to say anytime he looks at you.

He loved you.

How could he not? You were, in so many ways, perfect for him. Whenever you entered the room, his eyes were always on you. Because of this, he could read you like an open book. He knew that when your eyes would continuously shift around that you were overwhelmed or that when you would chip your nail polish, you were lost in thought. He knew that if he kissed right behind your ear you'd shriek and laugh as you were most sensitive there.

He knew your passions and your hobbies, and you both had already discussed the possible future together. He remembered the way you flushed at the idea of having children together, six no less. To his surprise, you weren't against it and he felt himself falling for you all over again.

"Stevie," You whined as you entered the room, a towel wrapped up on your head and another wrapped around your body. The sight made his breath hitch and his cheeks warm at the sudden sight of you.

God, he wanted to say it so badly.

Swallowing harshly, he found his words. "Yes?" His eyes shifted downward as you raised your leg slightly. A streak of blood was prominent on your calf, causing him to stand from the bed instantly.

"Oh, honey, you've got to be careful with your legs," He frowned, leading you over to your vanity so you could sit and let him take care of you. He kneeled in front of you, his fingers grazing the back of your calf as he raised your leg ever so slightly. You flushed from the position he was in.

"You still have those band-aids I gave you?" He asked as you removed the towel from your damp head of hair before passing it to him.

"Mhm," You turned towards your vanity, opening the middle drawer to pull out the cardboard box. "How many are in there?" He asked as you pulled a sealed band-aid out from the carton. Eyes scanning the contents of the box, you counted around fourteen.

"I'm good on band-aids," You confirmed, handing him the band-aid before returning the box to your drawer.

"Promise?" He asked, using the wet end of the towel to gently wipe away the drying blood on your leg. "Promise." You repeated as he unwrapped the band-aid.

With a soft grin, Steve dried your leg before carefully placing the bandage over the cut. "Does this happen often?" He asked, smoothing out the creases from the band-aid. Really he just wanted an excuse to be close to you, but he wasn't going to tell you that.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess so. I don't mean for it to happen. I just get distracted, I guess." Steve arched an eyebrow. "What distracted you in the shower?" He asked, noting the pout that was forming.

"My boyfriend won't tell me where we're going!" Steve couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, honey, but it's a secret. Just know it's a date." He said as he placed a gentle kiss on your knee before standing. "A surprise date." You reminded him.

"And you know I'm not good with surprises!" You whined and watched Steve as he sat back down on your bed before picking up the teddy bear again.

"I know, but you love them." He teased, causing you to huff before picking up a hair brush.

"Can I guess?"

"You can try," He grinned, now laying on his stomach so he could watch you.

Your eyebrows began to scrunch as you thought about the possibilities. "Rollerskating?" You asked as you started to detangle the ends of your hair. Steve gently shook his head, gazing at you with nothing but adoration.

Picking up the small juice box you had opened earlier, you took the straw between your lips and began to drink what was left of it. "Hm, oh! A picnic?" You guess again, Steve once again shaking his head. "Two strikes. You get one final guess before we get to the car. Are you sure you want to use it now?" He asked, seeing the panic enter your eyes.

"No, I need to think for a while." You admitted, picking up your hair brush again before continuing to contain your already drying hair. "I used my new soap that you got me," your voice carried easily across the room. "Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, standing from the bed. "Mhm, the lemongrass scented one." You stood from the vanity, making your way over to sit beside Steve. He sat up quickly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your neck and bare shoulder.

A soft hum escaped your lips, followed by a yawn. "You smell like lemongrass and sleep." He admitted, making you laugh. "Sleep? I dont think that's a scent, Steve." You told him, leaning your head against his as he rested his chin on you. "Of course it is. I just made it up." He grinned, causing you to shake your head at his playful manner.

"Gotta finish getting ready." You whispered, causing him to whine and wrap you up in his arms. "Steve—!" You yelped as he pulled you down onto the bed, making you squeal as he began to smother your face with kisses. "No, no, Steve!" You laughed, him finding your most sensitive places. He knew just where you were ticklish.

"I'm not doing anything, hon." He said with a cheesy grin. "Yes you are! Steve," You continued to laugh, your breathing becoming rapid as you couldnt catch your breath. "Whats the password?" He asked, fingers delicately moving up and down your rib cage. You writhed underneath him, eyes teary from laughing so hard. "Stevie," You gasped out, his fingers coming to a slow halt.

"Not fair. You know I can't resist that nickname." He hummed, gazing down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your laugh had to be his favorite sound. There was never a day he didn't make you laugh. Anytime you were happy, he found himself suddenly in a better mood. Your smile had that effect on him. Your laugh had it too. But most importantly, you had that effect.

Once you had caught your breath, you simply laid with him. "Gonna let me get dressed now?" You whispered, looking up at him as your own fingers began to trace him. You focused on each mole, practically playing connect the dots on his arms. Steve chuckled a little. "I can't tell if you actually want to get ready," He joked, noticing that you weren't even budging. Though the moment he said that, you moved.

"I do! You keep distracting me," You pouted a little, though it was a playful one. You made your way over to your dresser, opening a drawer. "Does it matter what kind of undergarments I wear?" You asked with an arched brow, causing Steve to chuckle. "Whatever you're most comfortable in, baby." He hummed before grabbing the teddy bear again.

It was from your second date together. Hawkins was hosting its very own carnival in the town square and Steve thought it would be a great date opportunity for you both. He promised he'd win you a prize and ended up with a backseat covered in stuffed animals. Steve wasn't sure what you'd do with them all, so you decided to donate them. However, this teddy bear was your favorite of them all so you kept it. Steve wasn't sure why, so he decided it was time to ask.

"Hon?"

"Hm?" You asked as you put them on. It wasn't anything Steve hadn't seen before so you went back to your vanity to begin drying your hair.

"You never told me why you kept beary." He said, returning his attention to you. You were already looking at him, a soft smile growing.

"He was the first prize you won for me. Thought he deserved to be kept to cherish the memory." You explained, plugging the hairdryer in. Steve's heart practically melted from your words. "Really? I didn't think he meant that much."

"Are you kidding? Stevie, I could tell just how much you wanted to prove to me that you would win him. And it wasn't to try and look cool or something either. I knew you were just trying to make sure I had a good time. But what you didn't understand was that I always have fun when I'm with you. No matter what it is we're doing."

Steve held the plush to his chest now, suddenly overcome with your words.

"I love you."

The room was overcome with immediate silence, quickly followed by the blow dryer slipping from your grasp and landing on your toe. You gasped and instantly shot up from the chair you sat in. "Fuck!" You couldn't help but swear. Steve sprang up from the bed in a sudden panic.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm so so sorry! This is my fault, I shouldn't have—" He huffed a bit before lifting you bridal style and gently sitting you down on your bed. "I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine!" You promised, biting your lip to ease the pain in your foot.

Steve quickly kneeled to inspect your foot, noticing that your toe had really only turned a few shades darker. Hopefully, it wouldn't bruise. "Scale of one to ten?"

"A six." You answered, watching as he further set into panic.

Steve sprinted downstairs, ignoring the questioning looks your parents gave him as he stumbled into the kitchen to grab an ice pack. He then flew back up the stairs, panting as he reached you again. "Here," He said, hands fumbling as he put the ice bag on your foot. "Better?"

"Better." You said, watching him with concern. Noticing that you were staring, Steve asked, "What?" while trying to catch his breath. That is until he saw your lip begin to quiver. "Oh no, no, honey. Please don't cry. I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have startled you like that." He apologized, wiping the tears as they began to fall. Steve cupped your cheeks gently, gazing at you.

"Steve-"

"Oh, princess, look!" He exclaimed, seeing your toe was still no longer the color that it was before. "Let me keep holding the ice here to make sure it doesn't swell, yeah?" He gently pressed, making you wince a little, but your foot was the least of your worries.

"Steve..." You trailed off, hoping to capture his attention this time. "I know, I know, but sometimes you say you're fine when you're not. So, it is my job as your boyfriend to make sure that you are taken care of." He smiled, gently rubbing the back of your calf.

"Steve." You finally said in a tone that was stern enough for him to look up. His eyes were laced with concern, searching yours for any signs of what he did wrong. You smiled softly before shakily cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning forward.

Liking where this was going, Steve met you halfway, lips sealing with yours.

He shifted, cradling your head as the kiss turned more passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. You hummed against his lips, fingers finding their way into his hair which you tugged gently. Steve groaned, his hands beginning to travel...that is until you gently held his wrists.

He parted from the kiss, confused as to why you stopped him. Oh, but he was met with that adorable smile and flushed face he couldn't resist. "Sweetie?" He asked, wondering why you wouldn't let him continue.

You parted your lips, almost hesitant to say what you wanted, but you took a deep breath and held Steve's hands. "I love you too, Steve." You admitted, blinking a little quickly to rid of the tears that were beginning to form.

He stared at you, unsure if he believed what he was hearing. The girl he loved more than anything, the girl he'd die for, the girl he'd kill for...loved him too. Steve began to realize that it didn't matter what he said or where he said it. The only thing that mattered was that you made him happier than he ever thought he could be.

"Steve, please say something."

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. His heart was racing, his palms were a little sweaty, and all he could think about was ways he could say thank you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Why-?" But before you could finish your question, you were being tackled onto the bed in a warm embrace. You squealed in surprise, laughing as you held each other. He kissed all over your face, speaking between kisses. "How did I get so lucky?"

His fingers, once again, found their way to your ribcage, making your legs kick. "Noooo! Steve Harrington, you let me go this instant!" You begged, laughing between words. Steve couldn't help but laugh as well. "Not until I hear those words leave your pretty little mouth again." He grinned mischievously.

"Okay, okay! I love you! I love you! I love you!" You exclaimed, getting louder each time you said it. He finally stopped tickling you, allowing you to catch your breath. "I love you, Steve Harrington." You said more seriously this time, making him grin from ear to ear.

"I love you too, dollface. Now...let's get you ready for our date, yeah?"

The End.

#Spotify #stranger things x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #fluff #harrington #steve

[madaqueue]

Lost Cherry

pairing: yuta okkotsu x f!reader

themes/content: dark content. yandere/stalking. non-curse modern college au. language, smut. scent kink (?), alcohol consumption, drugging (no nsfw during), oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.8k

a/n: "i love this guy and whatever undiagnosed anxiety disorder he has" is my fav yuta quote i've ever heard and honestly...me too (and yeah this is based off the tom ford perfume what about it)

Yuta noticed everything about you. How could he not, when the essence of perfection, an angel reincarnate, was here before him?

He truly saw you, his dark eyes boring into your soul as he soaked in your every move, every reaction, every thought.

When you met him your freshman year of college you thought he was sweet, albeit a little strange, his intense gaze putting you slightly on edge for a reason you couldn’t quite pin down. But nevertheless he was always the perfect gentleman, holding every door for you, driving you to class when it rained, bringing you your favorite foods when you were sick. He did it without question, as though caring about you came second nature to him, like it was his one true state of being.

The two of you continued growing closer over the years, sleeping on each other’s couches when study nights ran long, going to concerts of a band you loved together, cooking your favorite foods. It was almost uncanny how similar you two were, sharing the same taste in everything, Yuta’s smile never faltering as you gawked at him in disbelief when he recognized the obscure reference you made or when he happened to guess your coffee order. “I guess it’s just fate,” he’d grin as you laughed in awe.

But it’s not fate, he thinks. Fate would never be so careless as to risk letting you slip from his grasp; no, it was him. Time and time again he outsmarted the universe, foiling its plans to separate you. He knows you because he sees you, understands you, in a way no one else ever will (he’ll make sure of that). It wasn’t hard, really - he was always naturally observant, calculated, patient. All he needed to get close to you was a few chance meetings, accidental run-ins, where he could show you just how much he cares about you. And you, being as sweet and kind as you are, fell right into his open arms.

He loves you because he sees you.

He sees the way your lips curl into a smile as you sip your drink from across a crowded bar, a slight frown forming across your features as some pathetic excuse for a man tries to speak to you, making an idiotic joke you politely laugh at; he sees how you fidget with your hands, pulling at the chipping nail polish during class, a tell-tale sign you weren’t understanding the material (and an opportunity for him to explain it to you later while you studied); he sees the way you move when you’re alone, when you think no one’s watching, when you finally let your guard down and ease into the truest form of yourself.

It’s almost like you wanted him to see you, presenting yourself to him like a book with the pages peeled open and the cover ripped off, making it impossible for him to look away. It was only natural for his eyes to wander the words of your soul, mastering the lines and sentences of what makes you you.

So it’s no surprise when he gifts you a perfume that perfectly encapsulates your energy, your essence. After months of searching he finally found one that met his standards, living up to his mental representation of who you are. He knows you’ll love it, and you do - you begin wearing it everyday, the sweet scent of your skin filling his senses whenever you step into a room. The warm, amber notes become equivalent to you, a signal of your presence, a smile gracing his lips every time it wafts by him.

The one thing he doesn’t tell you is that he bought a second bottle, just for him, his best kept secret, the cherished liquid that evokes vivid memories of your laugh, your eyes, your skin, your voice, your everything when he smells it.

It’s harmless, really, when he sprays it on his pillow to help him fall asleep, calmness immediately washing over him as he pictures you there, holding him. He could practically feel the warmth of your body in his empty room, imagining how your soft hands would trace his body.

And when he wakes up, the scent of you still lingering, a smile graces his face as he nuzzles into the cool pillow.

It’s not his fault when he grows dependent on it, spraying the liquid into the air as he screws his eyes shut, picturing you. The way you’d kiss him, how smooth your skin would be, how soft your lips are, how your hands would feel wrapped around his cock, how warm and tight your cunt would feel around him. As he slides his fist around his length, he can’t help but moan your name, the idea of you filling his mind.

You.

One word, all-consuming. You occupy his thoughts, cloud his mind in bliss, every waking second. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

So when he sees you at a house party, wrapping your arms around his neck as you go in for a hug, why the fuck do you smell different?

“New perfume?” he asks, trying to hide how visibly taken aback he is as he pulls away from you.

Nodding, you take a sip of the drink in your hand. “Mhm,” you hum over the music. “Friend got it f’me. Y’like it?” you slur slightly, swaying in his grasp.

“I-it’s nice,” he stutters, his fingers beginning to dig into your arms.

How could you?

Glancing down, he notices the nearly empty cup you cling to, mind racing as he formulates a plan. “Want me to get you another drink?” he asks, steadying his thoughts and tilting his head innocently, hiding the rage he feels behind his dark irises.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, lip gloss glowing under the LEDs, as your eyes lazily make their way up to his. Reaching out a hand you ruffle his hair, placing a sticky kiss to his cheek. “You’re s’sweet Yuta,” you murmur against his skin, holding your glass out for him to take.

This would be sweet, if it wasn’t for the vile, traitorous perfume that suddenly overwhelms his senses. It’s too floral, too dry, too not you.

“Be right back,” he purrs, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away, afraid that if he stayed any longer he would do something he regrets.

Besides, he can’t pass up this opportunity: he gets to show you he can take care of you, how much he adores you, and get rid of the chance that anyone thinks they know you like he does.

When he returns, you don’t even notice the weird taste in your drink; why would you? You trust him, like you should. When your body starts to feel too heavy, legs struggling to keep you up, you lean on him, like you should. When your head begins pounding and you just want to lay down, you let him take you home, like you should.

In the comfort of your apartment, one all too familiar to him, he helps you change into pajamas before bundling you up under the blankets of your bed. You look so sweet, so innocent, as your head rests against the pillow, eyelashes fluttering as you ease into sleep.

Your mind is cloudy as you rest, body still pulsing with each beat of your heart, suddenly sensing his weight shifting from where he sits at the end of your bed. “Yuta?” you whisper weakly.

He could melt just hearing you call his name, your voice like honey. “Yes?” he responds, turning his head over his shoulder to face you.

“Stay,” you murmur, reaching a hand out to him.

God, he could die happy right here. He could afford a few hours of sleeping next to you, right? It’s not like there’s any urgency now, he’s already lined everything up, now he just has to knock it down.

“Okay,” he breathes, getting under the covers next to you.

The warmth of your body envelops him as you lazily wrap your arms around his torso, uncoordinated motions to keep him, your one source of stability, close to you. Your thoughts are fuzzy as you fade into Yuta’s softness, letting him overtake your mind. Shifting his weight he leans into you, head resting on yours as you bury your face into his chest. He holds you against him, the scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair, a familiar one, a kind one.

He waits until your breathing slows, soft snores leaving your throat as you rest peacefully against him. Gingerly untangling his body from yours he rises, making his way to your bathroom. Sitting atop your counter is the target of his task: the sacrilegious bottle of perfume. It takes so little for him to knock it off the ledge, glass shattering as it hits the tile, the strong smell suddenly overwhelming the confined space, making his stomach turn as he pictures you in it. Never again.

He softly pads back to your bed, careful not to wake you as he rejoins your shared warmth under the comforter. Overwhelmingly pleased, his heart races as a contented grin spreads across his face.

When you question him about it the next morning, it’s easy to brush off.

“Yuta?” you question sleepily after you return from the bathroom, “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”

Normally the frown across your face would haunt him, tugging at his heartstrings to see you unhappy, but now it takes everything in him to not show his excitement. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “maybe you knocked it over last night?”

“Mmm, probably,” you hum, settling back in next to him as your head rests on his chest, hoping you don’t notice how his heart races at the contact, your mind still too foggy to realize you never even told him that the bottle broke. “Thanks for taking care of me last night. Sorry I got so drunk, I don’t know what happened.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassures, his arms reaching around you, “I like taking care of you.”

“Thanks, Yu,” you murmur, nuzzling your head further into the softness of his t-shirt.

It’s so easy, he thinks. Everything with you is just that, easy: it’s easy to make you trust him, easy to look after you, easy to love you.

So when he sees you a few days later, eating lunch outside between classes, it’s easy for him to go over and sit next to you, the grass tickling his shins as he crosses his legs.

“Hi, Yuta,” you smile, your cheeks slightly rosy in the sun as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Before he can respond, a familiar scent hits his nose, the one that is so, undeniably, you. “You smell good,” he blurts out, unable to contain his excitement.

A giggle escapes your lips at the sudden compliment, the sound soft and sweet. “Thanks,” you laugh, “it’s the perfume you got me, so I’m glad you still like it.”

“O-of course I do,” he stammers, “I picked it because it’s perfect for you.”

Looking up at him, you don’t miss the slight redness covering his face as his adoration for you begins to slip through the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is continue giggling, the most angelic sound in the world echoing in his mind, as he melts before you. “You’re too sweet, y’know that?” you ask.

Popping one of the cherries you brought for lunch into your mouth, a comfortable silence falls between you as Yuta continues staring at you in awe - how could you be so perfect? He has to stop himself from nearly drooling as he watches your tongue work the pit from the flesh of the fruit, the way your lips move absolutely tantalizing. He has to have you.

Sensing his gaze, you turn to face him. “Want one?” you ask politely, holding the bag out to him.

As you shift the richness of your perfume again wafts towards him in the breeze, tearing down any remaining walls of shame or embarrassment left encasing his feelings for you. Suddenly he leans forward, one hand going to the back of your neck as his lips crash into yours.

The kiss is messy, needy, as his tongue slides into your mouth. His body presses against yours, desperate for more of you, as you fall into the grass. His hands are everywhere, finally able to feel the one thing he’s been thinking about for years, as they roam your body.

Pulling away slightly, you breathlessly try to get his attention with a call of his name, but he doesn’t stop, only shifting his weight to kiss down your neck. Everything about you overwhelms his senses as he sucks against your skin, leaving a trail of bruises behind. His.

Your back arches off the ground as he moves lower, lips trailing kisses down your abdomen over your clothes as his palms grasp at your tits, your stomach, your ass, any part of you he can find, his touch hot. When he begins undoing the button to your shorts, a wave of panic overtakes you as you process what he wants.

“Y-Yuta,” you stutter, your hand reaching down to tilt his chin up, forcing him to face you. As he does, your face flushes at just how feral he looks, his pupils blown wide and lips parted as he pants expectantly.

“Please,” he whispers, “need to taste you,” his eyes moving back between your legs as he continues removing your shorts.

“B-but-” you begin, worried about the chance of being seen if someone were to walk past the small field you sat in, your gaze moving across the open space.

“There’s no one here,” he explains without looking up, sensing your nervousness. “I’ll make you feel s’good, I promise.”

Glancing around, you confirm the absence of any other students or professors, biting your lower lip nervously as you acquiesce.

Frankly, Yuta didn’t care if there was anyone around - once he started, he couldn’t stop.

He tugs your pants off, pausing only momentarily to admire the wet spot in your panties before pulling the flimsy material out of the way, his mouth attaching to your cunt. He moans as his tongue meets your folds, so much better than he could’ve imagined. The sound vibrating against your skin elicits a sharp gasp from you, your hands instinctively reaching down to his hair.

“Yuta,” you whine as his tongue glides up you.

God, he loves the way you say his name; he needs to hear it again.

His palms trace down your body to hold onto your thighs tightly, nearly leaving more bruises against your skin as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. Swirling around your clit he whines as your hips move up, desperate for more friction, his heart swelling at the idea that you need him just as badly as he needs you.

After years of loving you he knows just what to do, exactly how to move to make you feel good, his compendium of your body finally paying off. Slipping his tongue into you, another whimper escapes his throat as you moan his name. Bringing one hand down he roughly circles your clit with his thumb, using the exact pattern he’s seen you do more times than he could count, one he knows is guaranteed to bring you closer and closer and closer.

As your grip on his hair tightens, he knows it’s working.

His mind is flooded with you, your smell, your taste, your sounds, your everything. He loves it, he wants to crawl inside you and live in your heart forever, just like you’ve done with his. He wants to make a home in the corner of your mind, getting to see the most private and intimate thoughts you have that not even he could be privy to.

The only thing tethering him to reality is your soft voice calling his name, the most soothing rhythm in the world as your body begins to shake, heat building as you approach your release.

“Yuta,” you whimper, “m’close.”

Warmth spreads across his body, knowing he’s the one making you feel good, taking care of you, loving you, like nobody else ever could. His motions pick up, messily grinding his tongue against your cunt as you pull him into you. Everywhere he presses feels like flames, heat pricking over every inch of your body.

His name leaves your lips like a prayer as you come undone on his tongue, a series of whines reverberating against you from Yuta as he continues messily lapping you up, desperate for anything more you’re willing to give him.

When he finally pulls his face away from between your legs he’s immediately back on top of you, his lips pressing into yours with the same feral desire. His breath is hot against yours as you taste yourself on him, the entire thing overwhelming your mind as your body comes down from its high.

Pausing for only a moment, his eyes flutter open as he looks down at you, a gentle sheen of sweat across your features, grass surrounding your hair, cheeks a soft pink. Everything about you so, absolutely, undeniably perfect.

“Mine,” he whispers to himself, so quietly you nearly don’t catch it, before his lips are on yours again.

#q writes #oneshot #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x y/n #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #yuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu x y/n #okkotsu x you #jjk #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw yandere #cw drugging

[rumisgf]

DENKI BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

summary: here’s some denki headcanons if he was your boyfie bcs i rlly love this boy sm and he don’t get enough love for my liking :[

warnings: college!au, suggestive, crack, feminine terms for reader used, black!reader ofc and always

✧ you’ve earned yourself a himbo gamer bf congrats

✧ denki is so loud about how much he loves you and he makes it very known that you’re his

✧ while it annoys people like bakugou when he constantly goes on tangents about you, it’s honestly such a green flag

✧ by nature, denki’s a very flirty person so you assumed you’d have to work that out with him a lot

✧ not only that but as denki got older, ladies (and boys) definitely started flirting with him first

✧ it definitely irked you when yall were js talking/in a “situationship”

✧ sometimes you genuinely wanted to rip the hair out of not only your scalp and his

✧ it was only because you wanted him so bad

✧ surprisingly tho, if you bring it up to him he stops immediately

✧ and when you do start dating he pretty much tunes out anyone who even tries to make a move on him

✧ he definitely owns one of those “i love my girlfriend” shirts and will genuinely style it

✧ overall, denki’s one of the most reassuring partners you could ask for after y’all make it official

“i promise i’m literally obsessed with you.”

“you’re the only one i see, princess”

✧ if yall see the way he talks in the show, he definitely is in tune with his feminine side

✧ and in the best way possible, the only reason he might have a lot of friends who are girls is because girls feel so comfortable around him

✧ and i’m a huge believer in the ‘denki with an older sister’ headcanon so that’s definitely where he gets it from

✧ he always helps you with outfits and he even knows how to do makeup to an extent

✧ the first time you were running late but still had to do your makeup so he just came over and did a perfect winged eyeliner, you were just like ‘…..someone cooked here.’

“kaminari….what the fuck.”

“what?”

✧ he always calls you “girl” when you say something weird or dumb and it really just slips off his tongue

✧ denki also loves gossiping. he’s so messy

✧ if he peeps something, you’re the first person he texts and y’all definitely make fun of people together

✧ when he’s gaming you’d think he’s one of those dudes who just completely ignores their girl

✧ which sometimes is a habit when you’re on the phone

✧ but usually, he’s able to have a full conversation with you and play the game with bakusquad on a seperate instagram or discord call (yes, he has this talent because of his adhd)

✧ besides he makes up for it when you get to take facetime photos of him with his camera set up, his bedroom lights off, the lights from his computer monitor/tv and his led lights highlighting his features so beautifully

✧ if you ever need his attention, he’ll get off in an instant with the excuse ‘i wanna go hang out with my girl’

✧ and he also loves gaming with you. it’s 50/50 though, sometimes he’ll let you win and sometimes he’ll absolutely obliterate you then laugh in your face

✧ it’s ok though because you get kisses after :)

✧ in person, kaminari’s always is touching you in some type of way

✧ whether it’s you sitting between his legs on the floor, his hand on your thigh while you sit next to him, occasionally hugging your waist if you stand up next to him

✧ his favorite though is definitely having you sit in his lap

✧ he’ll play with the hem of your pants or your shirt, wrap his arms around your waist while holding the controller, or let you bury your face in his neck and fall asleep

✧ speaking of, he loves when you fall asleep on him

✧ even around other people, he always likes pulling you on his lap or having your head rested on his shoulder

✧ both of y’all’s friends definitely take pictures whenever this happens but he honestly loves it and doesn’t care when bakusquad sends it into their groupchat

✧ he’s just like yeah, that’s my cute lil girlfriend what abt it?

✧ he really does think you’re so adorable and he loves babying you

✧ yk how the one episode where he said nejire was cute because she was kinda stupid (😭) ? yeah, he loves when you have little dumb moments because he likes to make fun of you and tell you how adorable you are

“awww, you’re so adorable baby!”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

✧ besides, it does make him feel better for him to not always feel like the “dumb” one in the relationship, it makes yall more balanced out even if you are smarter than him

✧ he also really likes flustering you. he’ll grab your belt loop, let his hands go a bit too low when you hug him, randomly pull you onto his lap, give you kisses all over your face, and purposefully stare into your eyes while you talk

✧ though, he does equally enjoy being babied. he loves when you play with his hair, laying his head in your lap, and being little spoon when y’all cuddle

✧ which is often the case unless you’re laying your head on his chest, his only other favorite cuddling position other than you being big spoon

✧ he loves playing guitar for you and if you can sing, he’ll play a song to have you sing the lyrics along with him

✧ denki is just a music lover in general, it’s often what’s in the background if y’all are making out or just chilling together

✧ if you like dying your hair, he will practically beg to help you do it because he thinks it’s a great bonding experience

✧ he’ll even dye a strip of his hair to match yours

✧ based on the ova where the big three were playing as villains and class 1-a were the heroes, i like to think denki was one of the first out of his friends to learn how to drive

✧ so he definitely was eager to make you his passenger princess. he loves taking you out to eat, driving you home, picking you up from places, and taking you shopping

✧ even if he barely has the money, he’ll spoil the hell out of you and (sometimes you gotta remind him to be responsible with his money 😭)

✧ his lock screen is definitely a picture of you in his passenger seat or you holding his hand while he’s driving

✧ he loves showing you off and he puts all your instagram posts on his story within seconds, and he will spam your comments

✧ he’ll also convince you to do tiktoks with him

✧ his favorite dates are at arcades, he just loves having fun with you and watching you get competitive with all the games

✧ he also loves when there’s a photobooth and will practically drag you to take cute pictures with him, which he’ll later put in his room on full display

✧ in general he takes tons of pictures of you and you take up a lot of his storage, his phone is really on its last leg.

✧ this also means he as the worst bangers of you imaginable. his birthday story posts are lethal.

✧ overall dating him is like having a built in best friend, except yall kiss a lot

✧ 10/10 boyfie

@ rumisgf

#denki headcanons #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari #kaminari headcanons #mha #denki x black reader #my hero academia #bakugou x black reader #izuku x black reader #izuku x reader #mha spoilers #mha season 7 #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki x black reader #midoriya izuku #mha izuku #mha kirishima #shoto todoroki #mha headcanons #mina headcanons #bnha bakugo katsuki #mina ashido #mina x black reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #mha 421 #bnha 421

[pinkyqil]

Too Much Is Never Enough

Hidden secrets series

Hidden secrets Masterlist

Warning : mention of pregnancy, little morning sickness and overly fluff

A/n: hope y'all enjoy this along with the anon that requested for this,I also added a lil sneak peak of what r future opucation might be in this I'm gonna be working on one more chapter before writing the birth and how alexia and jenni start their co-parenting the part y'all probably want the most but anyway my request are open at the moment so feel free to send them in, as always feedbacks and opinions are always appreciated

A few week's had pass since the mini gender reveal party and the leak photo of them both hanging out.

Right now the couple could careless and just let the internet go on a rampage of what was going on between them.

On the other hand alexia had woken up feeling a little morning sickness kicking in.

she should be familiar with it but no matter how many times she gets that feeling she couldn't get past feeling so sick.

she hated having to dealing with it especially right at this moment. and today her body honestly wasn't feeling it. but got up either way too wash up her face before heading down to meet join jen.

Jenni noticed the little pale look on alexia face wondering if she was alright,already knowing the answer to that.

"You alright". she asked

"Not really feeling a little down"

"You feel good enough to go shopping or we can just cancel it".

"Jen I'm alright just need to rest up a bit before heading out".

"Why don't you go upstairs I'll come join you soon and once you're fully rested we can go". Jenni told alexia one more time before helping her up.

alexia nodded agreeing to head up and rest before going out has she seem to lack energy especially after throwing up earlier.

After a while she was joined by jenni who started to massage her before pulling her into a cuddling position which made alexia feel slightly better before they both fell asleep real fast.

jenni had woken up first so that she could prepare the car and a few snacks for alexia so she could feel her best. by the time she was done alexia had already woke up and gotten ready. and now the couple were on there way

The trip too the baby store took an hour and half has the were going to an all baby mall. At there arrival jenni had already been talking alexia ears off on what they were going to get without even arriving at the store.

"So where do we start"?. Jenni asked alexia.

"Why don't you tell me seeing you were talking about it the whole ride huh".

Jenni obviously being annoyed with alexia answers before grabbing her hands leading her to the clothing section.

"Jen grab a cart on your way before we bump into something".alexia told her once again

They were both enjoying the occasion looking at the different choices that they had but would often disagree with each other sense of clothing choices.

"Why can't we get this it would definitely look cute on her". Jenni questioned her

"We can't get cause you already picked three of it in different colors Jennifer".she said while rolling her eye's to the older woman.

"That doesn't mean she can't have another color putellas". She spat back

"What did you just say hermoso". Alexia asked her with a glare.

"Nothing".jenni mumbled under her breath.

Even with alexia disagreement she had stil added the pices of clothing the cart while alexia wasn't paying attention. they had the same disagreement over and over again

"For the last time our baby doesn't need every color of each item".

"Whatever you say". It was now jenni's turn to roll her eyes.

Alexia was getting annoyed but she couldn't hide her smile whenever jenni suggested in getting more stuff she found her enthusiasm fun but would decline just get on her nerves.

Jenni had saw a huge cute teddy and a musical box that looked like it had an dancer on it.she knew she had to get it but alexia would just deny her request.

so she decided buy it without her noticing and hurrying up to hid it somewhere in the car without her knowing.

The musical box had gotten Alexia attention but by the time she tried looking for it again it was gone.this time so was jenni she couldn't even bother cause she knew that jenni was roaming around and all.

"You ready to go". she asked alexia.

"Yeah my legs are killing me right now".alexia told her.

The pair payed for all there purchases before heading out and putting arranging it in the car. mostly jenni thought as she didn't want alexia doing heavy lifting.

Ride back home was peaceful spanish music playing in the background jenni singing while alexia struggled to stay awake after a day full of shopping and needed sleep and food.

They arriving back home and got into arranging the things they got. alexia was a neat freak or at least she just needed everything in place so they wouldn't have to be doing it once the baby arrived.

While putting stuff where they belong alexia noticed stuff that they didn't get kept on appearing as she was trying to organize the clothes noticing the other colors top that she said no too was there.

"hermoso what did you do".alexia asked while holding the top.

"I can explain". jenni said once she felt alexia eyes starring deep at her.

"Oh well you better have an explanation for every single one of these that you got".

"Fine we can go return them".she said with a deep sigh turning her back on alexia.

"We can keep them I'm just messing with you". She said while laughing.

"Was wondering where this was".she said while holding the musical box close to her.

"You like it".

"Yeah it like one of a kind".

The rest of the night was spent arranging the things they got laughter and a few makeout session before they finished up.

Before heading to bed alexia had played a traditional catalan dance recital that she had found herself wachting a few days ago and right now.

She found herself loving the dance culture and everything that surrounded it. Reminding her a little about football with the way they move how it precise and everything with it's flow she loved it all.

A/n : hope y'all enjoy this chapter,one more chapter left still I write the birth and we get to the main part of the storyline. Anyway feedbacks are appreciated and I hope you all have an amazing saturday 💗

#alexia putellas #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia imagine #alexia putellas fluff #alexia putellas fic #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso fic #fcb femeni x reader #fc barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso fic #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso community #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #hidden secrets by pinkyqil #alexia x jenni #fcb femini #fcbfemeni x reader #woso blurbs #fcb femení

[youcouldmakealife]

KS Fill: Bryce/Jared; quick learner

For the prompt: I would really like to see someone (coach or media) realize Bryce is not actually an idiot (at least about hockey)

SO: How is it, having Bryce Marcus back in the roster for this final run before the playoffs? Is it a relief to have him back? BF: We have faith in all our guys, but I mean, of course we’re glad to have Bryce back. LR: I wouldn’t use the word relief, though. That’s not the feeling I get. It’s a treat to have him back with us. BF: Yes. LR: And I don’t just mean on the ice. The guy’s a sponge, truly. Everything I teach him, he either picks it right up, or he knows it already. I’ve coached some of the best players in the world, here and internationally, and I’d like to think I’m pretty accustomed to bright hockey minds. But it’s a treat. It’s a treat. SO: High praise. LR: My guys know — I never give a compliment unless I mean it. BF: Is that why you never give me compliments? (Laughter) LR: The only thing I don’t like about that guy is that I won’t get to coach him in the Olympics. SO: You don’t see a defection to Team USA in his future? LR: Nah, pretty sure the guy’s heart is right here in Vancouver. BF: If there’s a place for a heart to be… LR: It’s a pretty good one. BF: Great one.

-After Hours, feat. Vancouver Canucks Coach Landon Rutger and General Manager Brian Foster

*

Jared’s honestly a little surprised it takes as long as it does for the coaching staff to realise just how bright Bryce is. Or more, to pick up on just how broad that intelligence is, because it doesn’t take long for them to figure out how quickly Bryce picks up strategy, almost no time at all before he’s quarterbacking the power play, stage-directing before face offs. But Jared doesn’t know if it’s Bryce’s reputation preceding him or what, but the way they seriously pay attention to what Stevie has to say, to Gabe, Bryce doesn’t get that.

Thankfully that doesn’t extend to the team: they start listening to Bryce almost straight away, on the ice and off it. Jared thinks Gabe had something to do with that, letting everyone know Bullet has a good eye, that he’s worth listening to, but it probably would have happened even if Gabe hadn’t said a thing. This isn’t Calgary, nobody’s tuning him out, assuming the only things he knows about are scoring goals, picking up women, and taking bad penalties.

Bryce’s linemates are the first ones to notice, unsurprisingly. Usually where the first line goes, so too goes the team, and the Canucks are no exception. It’s only a handful of practices before Bryce is sticking around after the coaches leave, staying on the ice to give dudes pointers, give them a little extra practice on the things they need to work on.

It means Jared has to stick around a little longer, and Gabe too, if they’re carpooling, but Gabe claims not to mind, and whenever Jared gets impatient, he just has to think about how Bryce ran him through almost every single exercise before the combine, rented private ice time when Jared was getting too into his own head.

It’d be selfish, not wanting his teammates to get that too. And, far more importantly, it'd be completely counterproductive. It makes Bryce happy too, and Jared’s always going to be a sucker for that, though, thankfully, Bryce never seems to realise quite how big a sucker he is.

But in the final regular season stretch, Jared swears he can see it click, all at once, and suddenly Bryce is getting pulled aside by Coach, waved over to serious conversations with the team vets, Rutger leaning down to intently listen whenever Bryce turns to tell him something mid-game.

“Coach told me I should consider a career behind the bench after I retire,” Bryce says when they get home after one particularly long post-practice conversation.

He sounds a little stunned, like it’s something he never considered before, which is kind of funny, considering he was technically supposed to be one when he met Jared.

Jared would have laughed his ass off at the idea of Bryce coaching back then — and he did — but now?

Well, maybe he wouldn't be the best head coach, because Jared can see Bryce getting his ass thrown out of the game after losing it on the refs — he’s almost done it a few times as a player. He can see him being loved by his players, the kind of coach they’d run through walls for, but he can’t so much see him handling the disciplinary side of things, or delivering the bad news of roster re-assignments, scratches, which goalie’s in, which is out.

Not that he couldn't do it — Jared’s sure he could — but he’s equally sure that shit would stick with him at the end of the night, get in his head, follow him home. He’s too nice to be a head coach.

Jared’s not saying head coaches have to be assholes, except — maybe he is, a little. All of Jared’s best coaches were dudes he’d never be friends with, and that’s probably part of it. Better to be feared than loved, right? That’s Machiavelli, Jared thinks. Dude had some solid points, reputation aside.

But assistant coach, well — Jared can see that. Bryce running the power play, maybe, or special teams in general — he may not play on the PK, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t run a good kill. Or maybe be the coach that takes the lead on player development, the friendly one checking in how the rookies are doing and if anyone’s dealing with shit off the ice, helping them grow as players.

“Huh,” Jared says.

Bryce gives him a curious look.

“You would, you know,” Jared says.

“You think so?” Bryce says.

“I really do,” Jared says. He doesn’t know why Bryce lights up at that, when he’s just been told the same thing by someone who knows a hell of a lot more than Jared does, but he accepts the grateful kiss that comes his way. He hasn’t earned it or anything, but he’ll take it anyway. He always will.

*

SO: So I think it’s safe to say you’re both big fans of Bryce Marcus. BF: I know we’ve spent most of this interview singing his praises, but he deserves it. We’re lucky to have him. Delighted to have him back. LR: I think most people respect his hands, and his shot, but I don’t think very many people have realised what a keen mind for strategy he has. I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t realise until he was playing for me. BF: In hindsight, it might have been a better idea to let them stay in the dark on that one. (Laughter) LR: Maybe. But I think anyone paying enough attention will figure it out sooner rather than later. I think he’s going to make a lot of people eat their words. BF: I'm looking forward to that moment. LR: Me too. -After Hours, feat. Vancouver Canucks Coach Landon Rutger and General Manager Brian Foster

#fic snippet #bryce marcus #jared matheson

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 5

This chapter was like pulling teeth, I swear I switched POV's like 3 times.

Thank you guys so much for reading! Just as a heads up future chapters will be much much slower to update since real life hast decided to reassert it's presence. That being said, enjoy!

Warning for Spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part

~~~

The sharp edge of a sword hovered extremely close to your face. Its wielder's furious golden eyes stared you down.

“Who are you, how did you get here?” They demanded, their floating companion hovering behind their shoulder anxiously, watching this exchange.

For some reason, even though your life was being threatened, you struggled to feel any sense of fear or urgency. That’s probably something you should revisit when you didn’t have a sharp weapon pointed at you.

But you did, so you should pay attention to that, shouldn’t you.

Oh, but you haven’t, you’ve probably been silent for a while, getting lost in thought.

You redirect your attention back to your current situation. 

You are in this fancy bedroom you don’t recognize, whilst being threatened at sword point by a pretty teenager you don’t recognize.

Great, go brain, you can do things!

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for an explanation.

“I don’t mean any harm,” you say, slowly. 

The teen in question didn’t seem to believe you. They narrowed their eyes further, actually they were really pretty. Not just the teen themselves, though they are quite pretty, but their eyes sparkled like molten gold, not a common eye color at all.

Now that you think of it, are golden eyes even real? Don’t you need contacts to get golden eyes?

Oh wait, you’ve gotten off track, you’re being threatened.

They were saying something, their mouth was moving and you missed all of it.

You blinked, “sorry could you repeat that I didn’t hear it,” you asked politely, hoping they wouldn’t get mad at the request.

Oh looks like they did, considering how they’re clenching their teeth, they don’t look particularly pleased with you.

Well, you suppose it is rather rude to ignore someone mid confrontation.

Why were you in a confrontation anyways, you weren’t a particularly confrontational person, you liked to avoid drama whenever possible.

You probably shouldn’t be here, you realized. It’d be nice if you were somewhere else, like a nice park or a meadow or something.

Just as you finished your train of thought your surroundings changed.

The chirping of birds and the warmth of the sunlight distracted you from your earlier train of thought. 

You were in a lovely meadow, with beautiful golden flowers and a gigantic tree with blue crystalline branches.

It seemed rather empty though, which was a bit of a shame considering how nice it is, but you were hardly going to complain about having the entire place to yourself.

You started walking through the meadow, when a slight pain in your foot distracted you.

You checked to see that you were pricked by a rather sharp piece of gravel. 

That’s weird, why are you barefoot outside? Now that you think about it, your clothes are rather strange.

It’s this white flowy garment, reminiscent of the clothing worn by Ancient Grecians. 

But you weren’t cold at all, it was honestly quite comfortable. 

Wait, what were you thinking about again.

Oh right, you’re talking a walk in this pretty meadow!

~~~

The Wanderer, or well, Hat Guy as people now know him sighed as he flipped through a tedious book about the Origins of the Production of Wood Lacquer in Inazuma and its Effects on Weaponry. 

Unfortunately for him, I was there, does not count as a citable source if he doesn’t have the receipts to prove it. Now he has to sort through all these old books to find one with the information he needs to prove his point.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure examining the shelves.

It seems that they noticed him too, judging by the white haired fairy’s flailing. How troublesome.

“What are you doing here,” she whispered fiercely, at least she had enough decency to not raise her voice in a library.

He looked over at his piles of books and papers covering his workstation, and then back at her, wondering if she actually expected an answer to such an obvious question.

She seemed to realize that too, considering the sheepish look she adopted. “Well, you can’t blame me for being curious. You don’t seem like a big library kind of guy.”

“I’m not,” he replied curtly, turning back to his workstation. “Trust me, if I had it any other way, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Yet somehow, him turning his back to them and ignoring their presence wasn’t hint enough of his lack of enthusiasm to engage in conversation with the two, since they ended up hovering over his shoulder, attempting to read his papers and more importantly, distracting him from his work.

He swears, if he could get a headache, he would. He ends up slapping his hand on top of his notes, disrupting their reading and whipped his head back to give them the most annoyed glare he can.

It doesn’t work, because of course it doesn’t.

Instead the Traveler just gave him a smug smirk, they did this on purpose to annoy him, which makes it worse because he fell for it.

“What do you want,” he gritted out, knowing they won’t let him have his peace until they’re satisfied.

“I need to speak with Nahida,”

Wanderer scoffed at that, “then why are you bothering me? Did the Matra turn you away at the door and now you're begging for my help to get you in?”

“Not at all,” the Traveler smiled, “I just wouldn’t mind your insight on the topic as well,”

“Plus we couldn’t find her in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, ” Paimon chimed in.

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling a face at that inane statement, “Why would she be in the Sanctuary of Surasthana?”

“It’s where we’d meet up with her before,”

“That’s because she didn’t have any rooms or offices of her own,” he explained slowly, like he was talking to a child, well he probably was considering the intellect of the white haired one. “Why would she willingly go back to her prison of 500 years when she now has the resources of all of Sumeru to build herself a new place.”

The white haired fairy in question made an exaggerated face of revelation that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at.

He looks at his notes longingly, well not quite longingly, it’s still quite annoying, but its bound to be less troublesome than whatever the Traveler has planned.

Sighing to himself, he gathered up his notes and research and headed to the exit of the House of Daena, the Traveler and Paimon hot on his heels.

The three made their way up the winding paths of the Akademya. The puppet ignores all the glances and whispers garnered by the students and visitors alike, and moves as fast as he can without breaking into an outright run.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at The Dendro Archon’s new residence. Designed by the Light of Kshahrewar himself, its a beautiful structure with many windows and balconies, designed to be everything the Sanctuary was not. 

He headed straight in, the Matra having long gotten used to his frequent comings and goings with the Dendro Archon. He honestly doesn't know what reasoning they’ve decided on to explain why Lesser Lord Kusanali spends so much time with him, and honestly he couldn’t care less. It’s simply the fact that they couldn’t keep their mouths shut and now he has to deal with complete strangers coming up to him in an attempt to learn more about her.

He could hear the other two, awing at the architecture as they made their way in. Privately he did appreciate the architect's tact in designing this building. Whilst still made in the classic rounded Sumeru fashion, he managed to avoid any references to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, ensuring that there weren't many large empty spaces or darkened ceilings.

He knew she still avoided the building whenever she could, even though she rejected his proposition to have it torn down. It’s a curious relationship, for whilst it was her prison for so long, it was also the only place she knew and could call home.

Regardless of the matter, it wasn’t for him to pry.

Before long he had reached her office, offering a cursory knock before barging his way in. If she had a problem with his way of entering her rooms and offices she would've long told him to stop, but she didn’t so he didn’t.

It was a lot messier than he’d seen it last. Papers and reports scattered around the office, stacked in messy piles on her desk.

Lesser Lord Kusanali blinked up at him from where she was seated, before breaking into a smile when the Traveler and Paimon walked in.

She greeted them with enthusiasm, moving out from behind her desk to talk to them properly.

He tuned out the rest of their small talk, it was nothing more than empty pleasantries to fill the air before they got the actually important parts that were relevant to his presence.

“-ject Stuzha,”

He blinked, focusing back onto the topic of conversation. 

“Hmm, I must admit I haven’t seen many records on this project before,” the Dendro Archon said, her expectant gaze turning to him. 

He couldn't help but bristle slightly at the attention. “I’ve already given you most of the information I have about the Fatui.”

“Most is not all,” she replied simply, “and besides, from what the Traveler just said it seems to be something they’re mobilizing all their forces on.”

Logically he knew that it would be in everyone’s best interests if he told them all he knew about the project, but old habits die hard. The Tsaritsa’s court was nothing more than the world most extensive chess game. Every action and movement had to be calculated to give the player the best advantage, every scrap of information hard won. 

As much as it rankled him to admit, he was only the 6th Harbinger and the Director only gave out as much information as was strictly required, no more no less. But he did have some information, some he was given, some through sleuthing and others through his own conjecture.

He warned them of that before launching into an explanation of what he had seen and figured out.

“From the timing of things, it is clear that Project Stuzha is related to the gnosis, especially since the only one of the seven that they’re missing is the Pyro Gnosis.” His audience nodded at that assumption.

“It’s also related in some way to the state of things in Teyvat and the survival of humanity as a species. As things stand, Teyvat is becoming more and more inhabitable for regular humans. With ley line disorders, abyssal energy and dead godly remains lurking about. Project Stuzha is supposed to fix that, permanently.”

“But how,” Paimon interrupted, her head darting back and forth in confusion. 

“No idea,” he shrugged, “All I know is that it has something to do with the Abyss.”

“The Abyss? I thought that place had nothing but monsters and dead gods?”

Wanderer shook his head at that, “That’s just a common misconception. There’s actually the remains of an entire world down there. A human world.”

Both the Traveler and Paimon looked shocked at that statement. 

He’d already shared this information with Lesser Lord Kusanali so she didn’t look surprised, but she was deep in thought.

“I didn’t know that there were entire realms banished to the abyss, and I thought Enkanomiya was creepy.”

“It wasn't banished,” he refuted, “From my investigations, it seems that the civilization was built and founded there.”

There was a moment of silence as they contemplated his words.

“That brings up more questions about the origins of humans,” Lesser Lord Kusanali commented, “Irregardless of that, I believe you had another question for us Traveler?”

“Oh right!,” Paimon chimed in, looking over to the Traveler who stepped forward.

“We’re looking more into the blessings that keep happening and we'd like to hear your opinion of it.” They paused, looking between the two of them.

“Ah,” the Dendro Archon paused, looking at Wanderer.

“The thing is, we've already tried,”

“And failed.” He couldn’t help but add, to quash any hope that the duo may have.

“What do you mean by failed!” The fairy gasped.

“Well, that’s not exactly the case,” she tried to reassure. “It’s more like, there weren’t any results where we were looking. ”

“That’s just another way to say you found nothing!”

“Actually Paimon, finding nothing gives you a lot of information about where it is found!” She explained. “The thing is, the blessings we experienced aren’t connected to Irminsul in any way, so we can conclude that it originated from somewhere outside of Teyvat.”

”Does that mean that it can’t be tracked?” The Traveler asked, 

”Hmm, well from our experiences, it’s quite easy for those who’ve been blessed to recognize each other since they can feel each other’s blessing, but the range for that is no more than the size of two Sumpter Beasts.”

That was an irritating experience, having to stand in the middle of Sumeru City for hours as that annoying forest watcher had to try to find him through only his blessing. It took over half the day before they concluded that the energy of the blessing was far too weak to use as a tracking mechanism.

Thankfully, any experiments they had were benign and didn’t involve anything close to what he imagined that damned doctor attempted to inflict on Tartaglia before being shut down by the Tsaritsa. 

If that were the case he’d probably have hated the flame flickering in his hollow chest a lot more. 

Well, hate is a strong word. He didn’t deny that having the blessing made him a lot stronger than he ever was previously and on some level is grateful for its calming warmth. But a private part of him wished it had appeared to him sooner.

Logically he understood that the blessings were in some way connected to the Traveler and that they hadn’t appeared until well after his appointment as a Harbinger.

But the other small quiet part of him wonders just how different his life could’ve been had this blessing appeared before that. 

Would he have been able to save Niwa, or that little boy. Maybe even the Sho-

No

He can’t go down that train of thought.

What’s done is done and all he can do now is attempt to make amends and move on.

He tuned back into the topic only to find them talking about some kind of dessert they had in fontaine. Ugh.

He waited,

And waited,

And waited some more.

…

This conversation was taking too long.

And he isn’t even in it!

“Can I leave,” he butted in, realizing that their conversation is never going to go back to anything useful.

“Oh I’m sorry, are we interrupting your incredibly important work about glazeworks or something,” Pamon mocked.

Ignoring her he turned to the Dendro Archon who looked delighted. 

“You’re still working on the new essay?” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. 

He felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation. “I would’ve had it done a week ago, if someone actually let me use accurate sources,” he snapped.

“Oh come on, it’s not so bad. Besides, how are you going to explain how Hat Guy knows so much about ancient Inazumen weapon crafting techniques that have been lost to time.”

“You could vouch for me,”

“But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other students now would it.”

He took a deep breath, remembering how he’d already tried and failed to argue his case a week prior, “so can I go or what?”

“Oh course, what kind of Archon of Wisdom would I be if I prevented learning and research!”

He took that as his cue to leave, stomping out of her office, faintly hearing the fairy commenting about how she’s surprised that he’s actually doing his schoolwork.

As if he’d let some inconsequential mortal get better grades than him.

Besides, being the top of his class means that he won’t have any irritating students come up to him and ask if he needs help or offer tutoring.

Of course, being top of his class also means that there are now people coming to him to ask for tutoring or help. 

But at least those are easier to turn away.

Hopefully he doesn’t get interrupted anymore today, if so he should be able to finish this reference by tonight. 

~~~

Masterlist | Prev Part

Things are heating up huh!

I wonder where our dear creator has found themselves. Oh and don't worry too much about their state of mind, that will come up again soon!

Taglist: @bunniotomia,@lucid-stories, @ymechi, @chocogi,  @ra404, @ash1, @esthelily, @tottybear, @mmeatt, @quacking-simp, @reemthetheme, @universallyenthusiastsage, @resident-cryptid, @fantasyhopperhea, @thedevioussmirk, @etherisy, @naynayaa

Once again, my ask box is open if you'd like to join the taglist or just leave comments or questions. I promise I don't bite!

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin cult au

[vergess]

A work friend of mine's daughter has recently developed (?) schizophrenia. He seems to like my advice in general, and in particular thinks I gave him helpful advice about handling traumatic experiences he's had, and so talks to me about this a lot. I've tried to give advice along the lines of prioritizing her comfort/well-being/calmness over her "connection to reality" (his words), like not picking arguments over things she says in pursuit of correcting her, similar to taking care of someone with dementia.

Do you have any points I can focus on or resources I can look up to support him and by extension his daughter better? I'm not very familiar with the subject but do know that in looking this up I'm wading through a lot of stuff that's not very supported or with the schizophrenic person's well being and agency in mind.

You're exactly right about the comparison to dementia. Although not nearly as severe an illness, schizophrenia is one of those "redirect not reinforce" conditions.

So, one of the big things you can suggest, especially while the person is in the early period of onset (which can happen over the course of a year at any age, but usually between 20 and 30), is try to help them make plans for the future. Which sounds big and scary, but it mostly consists of honestly going through with them to make lists of the things they enjoy, the things that stress them out, etc. Because there is going to come a time, and it's sooner than anyone wants, where remembering what she finds relaxing will become impossible on her own (at least, during periods of high stress; she may always be able to self regulate in normal conditions).

Schizophrenia often makes people feel deeply afraid and out of control of their own thoughts, which is really scary!!

But your friend's daughter is likely still able to remember what things she enjoyed before the onset of her illness. Whenever she gets too wound up in a fearful delusion, rather than trying to combat the delusion, I suggest redirecting her to one of the things she enjoys, whatever that may be. A hobby, a movie, etc.

It's important that the idea for the redirection initially come from the schizophrenic person themself. This way, you can honestly say, "hey, remember when you said you like X, why don't we try some X together," and it be something reaffirming to the person's sense of control rather than fighting it.

Of course, if the delusion isn't fearful/scary/stressful, the best thing to do is to accept that it is her genuine reality right now, and just work around that belief. No need to start a fight and make it stressful.

Another thing is, and this is MUCH more controversial in the west but I'll go ahead and say it. Another thing is, if the daughter's voices are friendly or kind, to support her engaging with them (if she so chooses). This way if/when her voices become mean she can choose to "disengage" with them as a conscious change. In practical terms, this means if his daughter is ever having conversations with her voices that seem to be in good spirits, to treat that more like she is talking on the phone with someone you don't know, than to treat it as a scary hallucination.

Then, if the voices ever get mean, she can "give them the silent treatment" to help establish a sense of control over them and help her feel like she doesn't have to listen to them.

In a way, it can be good to conceptualize her voices as "influential strangers" and just encourage her to listen to good influences and ignore bad ones.

Finally, depending on where the daughter lives and her support needs, it might be good to get her registered with the healthcare service in your area sooner than later. In the US, a young person with schizophrenia automatically qualifies for medicaid and can also qualify for disability. Both will need to be applied for, and the application process is a byzantine mess.

Especially regarding disability, it is best to hire a lawyer to make your application (they will be paid out of your benefits not your pocket).

As such, if your coworker's daughter is unlikely to be able to live entirely on her own, including job, hygiene, travel, etc it's a good idea to get there registrations started ASAP. That way if the coworker ever becomes sick or when he eventually dies, etc the daughter can be supported.

If the daughter has low support needs and is likely to be able to live on her own (which can and does happen sometimes!! Even with schizophrenia), one of the biggest challenges she's going to face in the long term is going to the doctor.

Not only are doctors deeply, deeply scary to the mentally ill in the west (for good reason!), which makes doctors a prime target for delusions of fear and abuse. But also delusional thinking can interfere with a person's ability to identify their own body sensations.

EG, it is very common for schizophrenics to "be really angry and not know why" and it turns out it's because they have a UTI but couldn't feel it due to delusions. In fact, it's so common that one of the first things we do at work when a client is very upset like that, is ask them if they have been peeing more often (the answer is usually 'yes').

A huge part of the reason people with schizophrenia die young is the inability to tell when they are sick, followed by feeling unsafe going to the doctor.

Ultimately, the biggest thing to remember is that no matter how stressed or scared you are as a carer, the person with the illness is just as of more stressed. They aren't fighting you, they're fighting terror. Remembering that can make the intense demands of caring for someone with higher support needs less draining.

The second biggest thing is to remember to take time for yourself, because if you burn out as a carer, then you've left your kid without support for potentially months or years, and that's pretty bad compared to having them go to a fun adult program like a summer camp every day for a month while you recover.

Finally: there are more programs for schizophrenia support than you think. Even in my rural bumfuck town of 3000, we have two (2) different programs, including a year round day program that operates 5 days a week and takes walk ins.

Your coworker does not have to take care of his daughter alone. Support exists.

#Asks #Answered asks #arctangential

[stardewrotsession]

Note: I’m not even gonna attempt to say why I disappeared again, I just do. Work, school, hangouts, studying, it takes a toll. Anyways I think I’m back into Stardew since the 1.6 update so hopefully I’ll have more out in a timely manner. If not I’m sorry in advanced lol. Oh and no Elliot this time, also sorry about that!

The Bachelors When They’re Jealous

Sam

- Honestly Sam wouldn’t notice LMAO.

- At least whenever he’s getting hit on or flirted with, it takes him a long time to really catch on.

- Like if a girl were to walk up to him and start flirting with him heavily, he wouldn’t really get it and think she’s just giving him compliments.

- It would have to be when she starts getting handsy that he’ll get it and immediately turn her down lol

- With you on the other hand, he can tell, to an extent.

- If someone comes up to you and starts talking to you, he wouldn’t think anything of it.

- Mostly just, “Oh hey, they’re making friends!”

- It wouldn’t be until loudly declare that you’re not interested that he’d suddenly know what’s going on.

- And there’d be a guilt behind not picking up on it at first.

- Not because he doesn’t trust you, he trusts you with his life!

- But this guy could’ve been making you uncomfortable from the start, and he has done nothing to try and get you away from it.

- From that point he’d walk over to you immediately and give you a little kiss before asking if you wanted to join him.

- Whether he was outside, with friends, or with family, he’d want to give you an out. Or an excuse to leave right away.

- Sam cares about you, through and through. He wants you feel comfortable and he definitely needs you to feel safe.

Sebastian

- So a lot of me really believes Sebastian would be self conscious about it.

- Like he’ll catch himself being really jealous when seeing you talk to someone else, but then he’ll think he’s overreacting.

- It takes a lot of him to get jealous though, if you talk to Sam or Abigail, he wouldn’t bat an eye.

- But in my opinion? He’d get jealous when you talk to people he knows he’d never really talk to on his own.

- People like… say Alex? 👀

- I think anyone who has a popular kid personality or people with big egos makes him immediately turn the other direction.

- So when you talk to people like him, it tends to make him a bit jealous. Or insecure.

- Like “why are they talking to them?” Type of jealousy.

- I don’t really think he’d go out of his way to confront you or them. Unless you’re in trouble, he wouldn’t budge.

- But he’d definitely talk to you afterwards, but about how it made him feel.

- And he wouldn’t really do it in an angry sort of way.

- More like a “You were paying attention to them, do you like them more than me?”

- Probably more monotone or straightforward.

- You would definitely have to reassure him after, letting him know he’s the only one for you.

Harvey

- Harvey’s the type of guy to stay out of trouble a lot of the time.

- Less drama, potentially less injuries.

- Besides, he trusts you with all his heart.

- I like to think he’s all about trust, if you can’t have trust you can’t have a relationship. Simple as that.

- That isn’t to say he’d get insecure from time to time whether you talk to other people, especially if he thinks they look more attractive than him.

- But Harvey’s a great communicator. Once you get him to open up, he’ll want to share everything with you.

- If he truly does get jealous and insecure, he’s not the type to make a scene and pull you away immediately.

- He’ll wait until they’re gone, or until you two are in private.

- “So… what were you talking about with _____?”

- I also think he’s not the type to be confrontational about it.

- He’ll have his assumptions, but when you two are talking he’ll do everything he can to make sure he’s not assuming wrong.

- So get ready for random questions about your talk with the other person.

- He’ll definitely feel bad about getting jealous if it was a misunderstanding. He’d probably apologize the second he realizes he was overreacting.

- But he’s stable enough to know feelings like these happen, and as long as he can let it go and you can put his mind at ease, he knows he’ll be okay.

Alex

- Oh Alex would become overprotective so quick.

- Because, on one hand, he’s hit on girls before. Way before you two started dating.

- So he knows the pick up lines. He knows the flirty remarks.

- But on the other hand, ever since you two started dating, he could tell when people hit on him, and he’d quickly dismiss them.

- He knew who he wanted to be with. And you made him happier than he thinks he ever has been.

- Now when it comes to you, he knows when you seem uncomfortable, and he can pick up on when people flirt with you.

- He’ll only directly confront them if you seem really uncomfortable with it. Like, to the point where you constantly look at him with a “Help me” expression.

- But otherwise, he’ll have some fun.

- Picture this, a guy comes up to you and starts making conversation. You don’t think much of it until he starts flirting with you, calling you hot and pretty.

- Then you see Alex, carefully evaluating the situation before smirking and making his way over to you.

- “Hey babe,” he says while wrapping his arm around you.

- He gives you a small kiss, and pulls you closer. And let’s be honest, he’s definitely making a show of looking at you up and down, taking in your presence

- Probably takes him a whole minute before even acknowledging the other guy that was talking to you

- “Oh, sorry didn’t see ya there,” he’d say casually. “Need something?”

- You know what he’s doing, but you gotta admit, it’s a little cute

- Either way, he makes a huge show of calling you his.

- It’s like a passive aggressive way of telling the dude that you’re not interested.

Shane

- Low key, I’m so sorry… but I feel like Shane has a lotta issues with trust.

- If he gets insecure about your relationship and sees you talking to another person, you best believe he’ll completely ignore you at first.

- Even if you confront him about it, I don’t think he’d really tell you or open up.

- Like at night before you two go to bed, and you ask him what’s wrong, he’d say things like “Huh? No, it’s fine,” or “Wha? Quit worrying about it.”

- I don’t think it’s cause he’s necessarily mad at you.

- I just think he needs time to process everything. Debate on whether it was actually flirting or if you were just talking farm business stuff.

- So he’d shut up about it for a little. I really don’t think he’d be too mad if it was a one time deal.

- Buttttt if it’s happened multiple times, where you talk with the same person, he’d get annoyed.

- Unfortunately I think he’d have it all pent up until you guys have a disagreement or an argument.

- Like he could’ve left the toilet seat up and all of a sudden he’s talking about how he’s noticed you talking to the same guy over and over again.

- Despite all he’s been through, I don’t think he gets better right away, and his communication skills still need to be worked on a bit.

- Though, since he does have a therapist, he would try to work it out with them first, before anything else.

#stardew valley #stardew valley bachelors #stardew headcanon #sdv sam #stardew #sdv alex #sdv harvey #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #stardew valley headcanons

[2neaky]

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET TO YOU୨ৎ

— ೀ𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙰 𝙵𝙸𝙲 | 𝙼𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚌ੈ P2

| 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞/𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧! | -> Part 1 here

today wasn't an easy day. they lost a patient on the table.

his team tried their best, nanami has no doubts about that. but the patient had multiple complications even prior to the surgery. he knew it would be a huge risk, one the family was willing to take. he hoped the odds would be in their favor.

however, they were outweighed severely.

this isn't the first time a patient has passed. but it never gets easier. in his residency days, when a patient death occurred, after work, he found himself turning to an unlikely source for distraction—instagram.

he can remember yu teasing him about it when he found out. it didn't last long, much to nanami's relief.

at first, he solely used the account for watching art videos. they bought him entertainment and kept his mind off of the sadness for a little while. but as he continued using the app, over the years, nanami found himself becoming more interested in art altogether.

during his break at work, he would do quick, "sloppy" sketches. and at home, he'd redraw them to perfection. it wasn't until four years of him just being a lurking account that nanami made his first post: a detailed sketch of the garden at the hospital he served his residency at. yu was his first commentor:

he posted another drawing a week later. yu was always the first to comment. nanami never got many likes and hardly any comments (besides yu's). but he didn't mind. he wasn't posting for likes.

he just wanted to share his art with whoever would see it. besides, his account was faceless and he had no intention of ever showing his face. this was purely for his own enjoyment—an archive of his work.

but as that archive grew, so did the likes, the comments, and the followers. seven years as a faceless art account, nanami had organically amassed 1.2m followers. and all his followers have to go off of are his hands, which were starting to get him into trouble as of late.

in the spare room of his apartment is where he does his art. recently, he started doing time-lapsed shots of him making sketches or doing drawing challenges circulating the internet.

one of his reels went viral, the comment section filled with viewers thirsting over the veins in his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves. since that video, he can’t escape that kind of attention. and, honestly, it’s starting to get annoying.

but never mind that. this not-so-secret hobby of his is starting to feel like a second job. his large following comes with sponsorships. and those came in handy whenever he was inbetween jobs or as just money to put away for future savings.

but those sponsorships also came with deadlines and contracts. for the last year, with work and just the overall dissatisfaction with his art, nanami has been posting significantly less.

his followers have noticed, too, begging him to post more content. for all they know, he’s just some guy who only does art. he has yet to share any part of his personal life with them. but even outside of social media, he wasn’t drawing as much.

he just can’t bring himself to do it. even in this funk nanami’s feeling, he can’t even do a small sketch. even reading requires too much mental labor.

really, he just wants to turn his brain off. the statement rings as true now as it did all those years ago: technology is a distraction.

‘the perfect one,’ he thinks as he mindlessly scrolls through instagram.

double-tap and scroll.

double-tap and scroll.

double-tap and scroll.

it’s a good thing tomorrow is one of his off-days. but even with the threat of being on-call, he can’t fight the temptation to stay awake doom-scrolling.

he’s been lost track of time. hell, he wasn’t even liking any art posts at this point, having scrolled far outside of his typical niche.

just trouble waiting to happen..

and that’s how he stumbles upon her:

she snaps him out of his mindless scrolling by her sheer beauty. the little demon on his shoulder tells him to take a look at her account, just for a couple of minutes. it’s not too serious to let his eyes stray for only a moment.

this night, user @ Kento_ART’s following list grew one user bigger.

#black reader #black y/n #it girl #pink aesthetic #nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento x you #jujutsu kento #kento x y/n #kento x reader #jjk kento #social media #influencer

[codfanficedits]

Before the mask - part sifteen.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 4292| Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: unprotected sex! Praise, riding, facesitting, communication.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a writers slump, but I'll try to update sooner!

“No!”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?!”

Simon doesn’t know how to explain that he is telling you no, he doesn’t know how he is supposed to tell you that your last mission scared him to the point that he never, ever wants it to experience again. How is he supposed to tell you that he thinks that being a soldier seems to be too dangerous?

He can’t tell you that, you’ll think he is an idiot, a controlling asshole trying to decide what you can and cannot do.

So he grits his teeth, clenching his fists, as he tries to calm down. He needs to make sure that his fear doesn’t tip over in anger, but that is so damn difficult when he doesn’t get the chance to think.

“Lovie.” He managed to bring out the endearing word through gritted teeth. “Give me a second, yeah?”

And just like that, the tension in your shoulders seem to dissolve. Sure, you’re still pissed off at his words, at how he thinks he can boss you around, but at least he is trying, and that is a lot more than some other men can say.

“Fine.” With a grumble, you sit down on the couch, arms crossed in front of your chest. Just because you appreciate his efforts, doesn’t mean that you’re not annoyed at him. “Ready when you are.”

His fear doesn’t fade, not right away anyway, he stares at the back of your head, trying to make up if you’re pissed at him, or not.

He sighs, once, twice, maybe even for the third time, and a little dramatic too. Finally he bites the bullet. You do deserve a partner he can communicate, and the heavens know that Simon is trying.

He sits down next to you, seeing how you try to keep your frown at him, but he notices the little tugs on the corner of your lips too.

“I’m trying.” Simon starts. “Really am, but this is difficult for me, okay? So, if I need to take a break, give me one.”

That is fair, and honestly, if you weren’t so annoyed with him, you would have applauded it, so instead you just nod at him.

“Okay. So.” How do you start this again? “I.. I am worried, okay?”

Simon wants to reach out to you, but he is a little hesitant to do so, worried that you will reject him, and that is a blow he doesn’t think he could handle right now. “When communication was lost with your squad, it made a fear erupt in me, that I have never felt before, and the idea of feeling it again..”

Damn.

That is, hands down, the best communication you’ve ever had with him, he communicates his feelings, his needs, his fears, what more could you ask for? Sure, you don’t like it when he tries to control things, but now you know where he is coming from.

And Simon is just proud, proud that he was able to say this while his throat felt as if it was closing up. He is proud that he managed to speak about his fears, without lashing out, without shutting you out.

“What would help?”

Your question startled him a little. “What?”

“What would help you feel less anxious?”

Well, he would be damned. Was this how it was supposed to feel whenever someone met your needs? When someone really tried to understand you? Shit, that felt amazing.

“I.. I am going to be on that mission too, and I want you to stay close to me, so I can keep my eye on you.”

That would be a good solution, he could keep an eye on you, maybe you could even learn a thing or two from him, and that would be it.

“Okay. Yes. That would work.”

Simon lets out a sigh of relief, for a second he was worried you’d try to argue with him, but the fact that you didn’t, that you even tried to think in solutions with him, that was nothing short of being amazing, and he had to thank the heavens, on his knees for you.

“But,” and he hates what he has to say next. “we really should keep us a secret a little longer. I don’t want other to think I’m giving you a special treatment.”

“But you are giving me a special treatment!” Not that you disagreed with keeping your relationship on the low, you just weren’t going to be a man’s peace.

“I know.” Simon groaned out his answer. “But that is beside the point!”

He can read your body language, he knows that you’re no longer annoyed with him, so he is getting a little braver. He pulls you close to him, pressing a kiss on your hair. “You’re a pain in my ass sometimes.”

“So are you.” You counter with a laugh, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “But you’re right, we should just.. keep us on the low, to keep them from being suspicious.”

Funny, how Simon could recall you saying those words, but here you were, nudging him with your right knee. He had been surprised when he had noticed that you sat down next to him in the meeting, tucked away in the back.  

Keeping their relationship under wraps makes it particularly challenging for him to hide his feelings. However, you find a thrill in the subtle signals Simon shoots your direction. Eventually, he reaches his limit. With a firm grip on your knee beneath the table, he leans in and murmurs, "Stop it."

Well, it wasn't your fault, was it? You were just really, really in love with him, and the fact that you two were a couple, but no one knew? That just made you feel all giddy on the inside.

You lean towards him, an innocent smile on your face.  "I'm sorry." You whispered.

"Cut it out." Simon whispered back, trying to keep himself under control despite the fire building inside him. He could feel the tension in the air as his grip on your knee tightened, his thumb brushing against your skin.

It took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from reaching under the table and pulling you onto his lap so he could whisper all the sweet nothings he wanted to say to you.

Your knee finally stops nudging against his, but you can't stop stealing little glances at him. Your fingertips trail over the back of his hand, and it is getting hard to focus on the briefing. Your mind wanders to every sweet interaction you’ve have had and your heart runs over with love.

Simon is acutely aware of your gaze as you continued to steal glances at him during the briefing. It's not a secret that you love him and he feels a shiver run up his spine as your fingertips trail down his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.

While he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, this isn't the place for it. So he leans forward once again, whispering, "If you don't focus, I will drag you to an empty room and you will never forget me."

You have to suppress a giggle at his words. It felt so, so, so good to be in love, especially with someone as wonderful as him.

"We don't want that now, would we?" You teased him, but you decided to behave a little bit. Not wanting to get the both of you in trouble, after all, you had promised to keep this a secret

Simon's lips twitch into a suppressed smile, as he can't help but be affected by your sassiness. Instead of responding with more words, he leans down and captures your lips in a brief, yet deep kiss.

He leans back just before your colleagues noticed the kiss. "No, we don't want that now" Simon whispered with a smirk, "I have plans for you later."

You are stunned when he kissed you and the first thing you do is to look around, to see if anyone noticed, but all their eyes are on the captain. Your fingers go to your lips and your fingertips try to mimic the sensation.

"Stop that!" You whispered while your cheeks got a rosy hue.

Simon can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. You look just as adorable as the first time he saw you, your lips the same rosebud pink—just as kissable. But he needs to control himself. He can't keep kissing you here.

"No, I think I'll keep doing this," Simon replies in a hushed whisper, "it gets even better when I kiss other places. Like your neck and..." His fingers brush across your neck in the spot that he had in mind.

He knows what he is doing, the cheeky fucker.

You can't suppress the smile on your face, no matter how hard you tried.

"You're a horrible tease" It is hard to stay focussed, it is hard to keep quiet. But you had promised to keep your relation on the low, but fuck, does he make it difficult.

"Am not..." Simon teases you, his voice low and sensually as he whispers, "But I can show you how much of a tease I can be. I bet it will be a better feeling than the kisses I just gave you."

Simon continues to brush his fingers across your neck, his nails grazing the skin gently enough to make chills run down your skin. He's enjoying your flushed face, he likes that he has this type of control over you. He likes that he can punish you for your teasing.

His touch leave a wake of goosebumps on your skin, the touch is addicting.

"Stop it." You muttered through gritted teeth. "You're going to get us caught!"

Your hand goes to reach for his, trying to pry it off your skin

“I'm trying to give you a little preview of what I'm going to do to you later." Simon continues to tease you, as he lets his nails trail down the back of your neck in slow, sensual strokes.

"I'll be sure to go over every inch of you later tonight. Your neck..." Simon whispers, his lips close to your skin.

He can't stop himself from enjoying your reaction, from how his words are making you squirm in your seat.

You knows you should stop him, you know that you should tell him to continue later, you know that what you’re doing is a danger to your job, but his teasing words, his teasing touch. They cloud your judgement as the hormones take over.

"Where else?" You murmured softly, making sure your teammates wouldn't hear the two of you.

"Tell me where you want to kiss me."

Simon can't help but grin, amused by the fact that he can make you feel this way. He enjoys seeing you so flushed, your cheeks bright pink, your lips begging for a kiss. He wants to give you everything you want.

"Oh, I have plenty of places to kiss you," Simon replies softly. He places his free hand on your thigh and moves it up the side of your leg, letting his fingers trail down your skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and all you can hear is your own heartbeat in your ears. You take a shaky, deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You don’t want to attract the attention of your teammates, but his touch makes you feel as if you are on fire.

Simon relishes the fact that you are panting and visibly shaking from his touch. He's doing exactly what he wanted—drive you crazy and make you want him. His hand continues to stroke your thigh, his fingers caressing the fabric all the way up towards your hip. He leans down, closer to your ear, and whispers, "If you don't stop being all fidgety right now, I'll bring you to an empty room and make sure you'll never be the same again."

He enjoys toying with you, you just know it. God, you hated that the fabric of your pants keep him from actually touching you.

There is only so much you can take, and it is become more and more difficult to stay and to keep quiet.

A sign escapes you, when the meeting is wrapped up, just in time.

Simon sits back in seat, as he watches the meeting reach its conclusion. His body trembles with the pent up frustrations he has from not being able to freely touch his girl. His knee bouncing, his fists clenching and unclenching.

Simon knows that if the meeting were to carry on for even a moment longer, he would drag you to an empty room. He wants to make you feel the way you make him feel, driving him crazy with desire.

You don't want to raise any suspicion, but fuck he is making it hard. You clear your throat, and you finally get up from your seat. Your fingertips brushing against his shoulders as you walk past him.

Simon watches you walk past him, amused by the way she sways your hips in your tight uniform. The way you moves your body, confidently yet sensually, drives him crazy. He also can't deny the feeling of jealousy that sweeps over him, knowing that other men are surely noticing your beauty.

As he watches you walk off, he thinks of the moment he can finally get you to himself. The things he will do to you, the places he will touch you. He can already feel the heat building inside him.

You wanted it to become a little routine. You would get up first, touch him, just enough to light that fire inside of him.

You would disappear into your room, leave the door unlocked and he would follow you, sometimes after a minute, sometimes after ten minutes. You couldn't wait any longer, so when he opened the door to your room, he was greeted with the sight of his naked girl, waiting for him on the bed.

The moment Simon opens the door to your room and sees your waiting for him on the bed, his breath caught in his throat.

You look like a goddess, more beautiful than he had ever seen you—naked and waiting for his touch. Your skin glistens in the light, your hair draped over her neck and shoulders. And you wait for him, your eyes filled with anticipation.

Simon cannot resist you, every time he sees you like this, he's pulled to you, his every desire focused on you.

With every step he takes, he loses a piece of clothing, until he stands naked in front of the bed, hard and proud.

He crawls into bed with you. Their bodies touching, legs intertwining while your lips met.

"You've been an awful tease." You whispered in between kisses.

"You like it when I tease you, though." Simon replies confidently as your bodies lay intertwined. His body against yours is like a puzzle, you fit so perfectly together, two pieces coming together to make something more.

He leans in to kiss you, taking in the taste of your lips, the warmth of your skin. His fingers wrap around your neck, caress your throat as he begins to explore your body, leaving a trail of kisses and touch on everything he can reach.

Hands grope the soft flesh of your body, massaging, kneading the soft skin. You moaned when he began to kiss your body, his lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your collarbone, breasts, nipples, eventually your stomach.

"I want to try a new position." You murmured.

"I'm up for anything, love." Simon replies. He was already in the mood to experiment, seeing the way you were responding to his touch made him giddy with excitement.

"So tell me, what position are we trying?" Simon asks, his fingers moving along your stomach, inching towards your thighs.

Your hips buck forward when he teased the soft skin there, and you have to bite your lip to hold back a moan.

"Reverse cowgirl." You answered his question. "I would like to try reverse cowgirl."

"That can be arranged." Simon replies confidently, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. He loves that you are taking your own desires and making them known.

Simon moves away so that he's no longer on top of you, his body pressed beside yours. He rolls you and sits you on his hips, supporting himself by leaning on his elbows. Once you’re settled down, he grips your hips and pulls you towards him.

Even when you wanted to be in charge, he took control.

And you fucking loved it. You let yourself sink down on him, letting your warmth embrace him. Your head tilting back when his cock begins to fill you up.

"How's the view?" You giggled softly

"It's perfect." Simon replies, his breathing steady. He makes sure to take in every detail, the flush of your cheeks, the way you move yourself to fit him perfectly.

He pulls you closer, guiding your movements. His thumbs trail down your sides as he grips your hips, letting his fingers slide along your skin. The sight of you is almost addictive, as if he can never get enough of you.

It is a bit unusual, a new position. You are used to seeing his face, to see what you do to him, and with reverse cowgirl you can't.

It’s not that it is bad, it is just.. not as exiting for you, as it is for him. Simon is taking in the full view, your plump ass, the way you take his cock so well. His hands rest on your hips, but he lets you pick the pace.

After a few minutes, your hips stop moving.

You look over your shoulder to see his face, and Simon looks like he is in heaven.

"I.. Can I sit on your face?" You asked, your voice a soft murmur, as if you were afraid to ask it.

Simon's lips curve into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with desire. The thought of you straddling his face sends an jolt of shock through him.

"Oh, that'd be perfect." Simon replies confidently, his breathing speeding up as he imagines the feeling of your body straddling his face.

You let him slip out of you, before you moved yourself upward, your hips straddling his face.

Your dripping wet pussy is hovering above him, and you feel a little nervous. "Two taps if you need some air." You murmured.

You then slowly, lower your pussy down to his face.

Simon's fingers curl into a fist, his body trembling as he watches you move into position. The sight of you hovering above him, looking down on him, is a powerful one. He can't help but let out a low growl at the thought of what you’re going to do.

When your pussy hovers above him, he grips the bedsheets, his breathing becoming faster. He stares up at the beautiful sight before him, his gaze following every inch of your body as you lower yourself towards him. His hands wrap around your thighs to help hold you.

Such an impatient boy.

He grips your thighs and pulls you down to his face. The moment his tongue touches you, you’re done for.

Your head tilts back, and a loud moan escaped your lips. You let your hands roam his chest, caressing the soft skin.

Simon's body trembles at the feeling of your hand on his chest, your touch sending shivers up his spine. It's like a jolt of pleasure when your soft, tender fingers caress his skin. As your hands move down, he continues to massage your thighs, his hands squeezing your skin tight as he pulls you down to his face. He can hear you moan, although the sound is faint, feeling your body tremble as he pushes his tongue into you. He wants to taste it all.

His tongue feels different, but shit does it feel good. "That's it." You moaned softly, your hips slowly riding his face.

Your hands massage his chest, his abs, his body. And it feels amazing. "I love you."

Simon's breath catches in his throat, hearing you admit your love for him sent a wave of warmth through his body. It was almost enough to make him want to stop what he was doing, but he enjoyed pleasing you too much.

His tongue begins to tease and dance, moving from your clit, right back to your wet folds, his fingers continuing to massage your thighs. He moves his hands further up your thighs, sliding them up to your hips.

The stubble on his chin, the way he lets you use his face, God, it is the whole combination that drives her crazy. Her hips begin to move frantic, high pitched moans leaving you as you grip his thigh to hold on to something while you cum on his tongue.

Your thighs tremble and after a second or three you got off his face, panting softly.

When you finally reached your orgasm, he was surprised with how loud your moans became. He was so focused on your body movements, that he had forgot about his own enjoyment.

As you got off his face, Simon's body began to tremble, his body begging for release. But he didn't want to end things here, no, he wanted more.

You straddled him against but before you did anything else, you kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Fuck." You groaned. "Fuck that was amazing." You smiled at him. "You deserve the world."

Simon's eyes widen when you tasted yourself on his tongue. That.. that was the hottest thing you could’ve done.

You rolls your hips against his, enjoying his reaction. Rubbing your pussy against his rock hard dick.

"Let me make you feel good."

Simon's body trembles from your movements, as you continue to roll your hips against him. He lets out a sigh as you sink down on him, her warm pussy feeling amazing.

"Oh God..." Simon's breathing becomes faster and faster as he can already feel the release coming. "Don't stop..."

You giggled softly as you heard his words. It seems like eating you out turned him on so much he wouldn't last long. Your hips began to move faster, seeing his face twist in pleasure.

"You've been so good to me." You moaned. "So, so, so good."

"Oh God, don't stop...please." Simon replies, his voice trembling with excitement. It felt like a huge relief to not be in control, as he could just lay and enjoy your movements.

He grips your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he pulls you even closer to him. You have been so good to him, even when he didn't deserve it.

His hands on your hips help you sink down on him even deeper, your pussy engulfing him fully.

You enjoyed seeing him like this, enjoying you so intense. All you wanted was for him to get that same pleasure you had gotten.

There was something so erotic about the visuals of you on top of him like that. He would love to see this view more often.

But right now, his body is beginning to tremble from anticipation, as a huge wave of pleasure comes rushing towards him.

"Oh God..." he whispers as he grips harder onto your hips.

The room begins to fill with the sound of skin against skin as you lean forward to kiss him, his hips bucking upwards to meet her in a desperate movement. You enjoyed being on top more than you had thought and this seemed like the perfect way to end the day.

"Cum for me." You whispered against his lips.

Simon's breath catches in his throat when you lean forward, bodies pressed so closely together.

"Please." his voice trembles as he leans his head up, wanting to kiss you so deep. "Make me."

Your lips capture his again, the kiss is deep, passionate, almost desperate.

"Beg me for it." You answered in a whisper.

Your hips slow down a little bit, wanting to edge him a little bit, not just giving in.

Simon's body trembles, as your words cause his breath to catch in his throat. He is not used to begging anyone for anything, but right now, it is like he is asking for your life.

He looks up at you and lets out a shaky breath, "Please..." his voice comes out hoarse, "Please let me.. please let me feel it."

You know he usually doesn't beg for anything, maybe that is why you like it so much.

"Good boy." You murmured. "Looking so pretty for me while you beg."

Your hips begin to pick up the pace again, and your own head tilts back, your lips slightly parted as you cried out his name, your second orgasm washing over you.

Simon's eyes widen when you call him a "good boy" and the sound of you calling out his name is enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a low, guttural cry as his own release washes over him, his hips bucking up to fill you up as good as he can. After a few moments, he leans up to kiss you.

“Fuuuuck." You feel exhausted when you finally catches your breath, you want to get off him, but your legs feel as if they are about to give out. "Fuck, Simon. I love you."

The words send Simon's heart fluttering, he's never heard such words before. It felt right, like his heart was finally whole again.

"I love you too."

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod mwii #cod x reader #mw2 #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon my beloved

[puppetwoman17]

Would you ever expand upon your joker junior thoughts more? I think that was such a well written idea and would love to hear what else you think about it

Oh my god yes. 100000% YES!

That post before was more of an idea vomit, didn’t cover all of what I thought, so I’m happy to hear someone wants to hear more.

So, JJ’s always been a tough convo for Tim. Obviously. But it’s not just because of how traumatizing the Joker can be, or about the shocks and psychological torture. It also reminds him of a grim time in his life. With Bruce still going through the motions post-Jason’s death, and Dick frequently spending all his time in Bludhaven, he hadn’t been watched much. Save for Babs, ofc.

That’s actually why they’re so close. She’s much more emotionally competent thanks to her dad, lol.

JJ wasn’t only a big thing for Tim, but for Gotham too. In a place like this, it wasn’t hard for whispers from the Joker’s men to travel to civilians and cops. Everyone knew why Robin was nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew why Batgirl looked the way she did, agitated and worried. Everyone knew why the cops searched that same warehouse over and over, never allowing anyone inside.

Which was also why no one was happy to see Nightwing, very obviously the first Robin, return after yet another sabbatical in Bludhaven. Of course, that stopped a little after everyone collectively realized that, oh crap, he doesn’t even know!

This begins a collective effort by the more clear-minded people of Gotham to NOT disclose anything JJ related. There has to be a reason, right? No way were they going to force Robin #3 to disclose anything he didn’t wait to. It didn’t hurt that a year or two later, a mysterious figure named Oracle began effectively making every news article or picture related to JJ disappear.

Everyone holds their breaths for the next few months. What if what happened to the second Robin happened to him? What if he was too crippled to go back out?

As the Batfamily grows bigger, it becomes way clearer that Robin #3 hasn’t said a WORD. Not even after they grow closer, when the screaming and murder attempts and arguments cease. He doesn’t say a word, so no one else does either.

Tim goes to great lengths to medicate himself against any variant of Joker venom or gas. The familiar smells just… bring things back to the surface.

He tries not to act like Jason whenever the Joker gets out of Arkham. It’s already hard for everyone to hold him back from killing the monster. Jason doesn’t need some second-rate copy of his trauma trying to get sympathy. Unlike Jason, he didn’t die. He didn’t come back differently, or lose footing on his life, his job, whatever.

It would just be better if Tim acted as aloof and concentrated as he always did. Not make a big scene, and follow Batman’s orders to a T. No need to worry anyone.

Honestly, the only reason no one notices the literal war going on in this boy’s head is because he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

Oh, and if you’re wondering what he says when one of the bats finds him the next night, still avoiding them…

Yeah, he full on denies EVERYTHING. Looks whoever it is, Jason, Steph, Dick, straight in the eye and says that what they saw was fake. Edited. Something to threaten Bruce with years ago. Tim just ran because…because…Anyway, he’s fine. Don’t worry about Tim Drake. He’s fine.

Babs groans over the comms when everyone hounds on her to tell them everything. Like hell is she gonna tell them a single thing until she has Tim’s full permission.

#tim drake #red robin #joker junior #batman the animated series #batgirl #barbara gordon #joker #Batman #batfamily #Nightwing #red hood #gotham #I don’t read many comics lol sry #I’m not an encyclopedia #canon divergent #or compliant #idk continuity is weird in dc

[bearw-me]

Sense it's may the 4th can I request the hazbin crew reacting to teen reader celebrating star wars and explaining to them what star wars is sense I think most of them wouldn't know about it.

yess i can! and sorry if these don't live up to expectations! i've watched the movies but im not totally involved in the fandom!

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 — 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!

𐐒 ft : gender neutral! teen! reader, charlie morningstar, vaggie, alastor, nifty, angel dust, sir pentious, husk 𐐒 cw : fluff 𐐒 summary : you are showing the hazbin crew what star wars is no matter the cost + and their reactions 𐐒 note : ITS STILL may the 4th where i am! this counts!

Charlie Morningstar! Loves your enthusiasm so much she decides to watch the movies with you until she falls asleep. Makes popcorn for the two of you! I think she'd be pretty clueless though, as the princess of hell who's never been exposed to that kind of pop culture.

"Oh my goshh! Star wars!"

. . .

"What is that?"

She's got a good attitude about learning through you

Vaggie! Sits with you and Charlie, and although she has no idea what you are talking about (her being an angel and all and having no contact with Earth), everything you say to her just kind of floats through one ear and out the other.

GETS HEATED and physically mad when the storm troopers miss. every. shot. they. take.

likes she's cursing in spanish type of mad

likes bloopers (like when that one storm trooper hits his head on the door)

Alastor! Hates the television, so you'll have to explain everything to him through other means, even if that means him listening to you tell him the whole thing.

honestly, i think he'd be the most uninterested in the plot if it couldn't be explained well.

i think he'd actually like looking at the comics if you showed them to him "Well look at this fellow! Aren't they all charmingly misshapen!" when you show him aliens like Jabba, or Jar Jar.

likes the 'epic saga; between armadas and armies, jedi and sith. . . like he's smiling with his eyes narrowed and nodding as you point out everything that's happening.

Nifty! Retains NOTHING you are saying, she is just kind of staring through your soul. So when you put the movies on in the lobby she actually moves and watches while she dusts.

subconsciously retains the information and names some of her roaches after the characters.

she stops cleaning to just sit front and center in front of the tv.

LOVES the violence and fight scenes, especially when people get cut by a light saber.

asks you for pictures of the characters that she keeps crumbled into her apron (she adores darth vader)

always plops down onto a pillow in front of the tv whenever boba fett + anakin skywalker are on screen

WOULD LOVE to kill a storm trooper herself

Angel Dust! Like Charlie, I think Angel would be the best person to hear you out about star wars. I think he'd be a major geek with you, even acting out a few scenes and letting you win. He see's you like his sibling, so he enjoys your company. Why wouldn't he love doing something that you love?

loves the clothing in the movies, especially the queen of naboo's makeup. "And the hairr!"

loves the romances and sci-fi fantasy part of it

expect him to have ideas

Sir Pentious! I think out of all the people in the hotel he'd LOVE star wars. From watching the movies with you in the hotel's lobby to asking you a TON of questions! Like everything you know about star wars, he has to know too!

"I like thiss 'Sstar Warss'"

has to know everything and has his own fan theories

probably cried while he watched padme + anakin's love story. right up to the end

(he tries hard to identify with anakin)

he'll probably celebrate may 4th right along with you, t-shirt, movie cup, all his wrecked up merch in his hands just to watch the movies with you

tries to recreate all the gadgets and light saber's he see's without success. . . YET

Husk! Doesn't get it. He listens to you sure, while your sat at his bar counter and explaining everything to him about the plot and the characters. He asks a ton of questions, but it is sort of like explaining it to your dad.

He'll lean over the bar and ask you about plot holes, and when you answer back excitedly he kind of sighs to himself "Why is he getting so worked up on the plot anyway?"

like why is he forming an opinion now?

likes when you talk about it though, your enthusiasm is a little contagious

is 'subtly' watching the movies from behind you, turning away to wash some glasses when you stare over at him

#hazbin hotel #imagines #headcannons #headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #fluff #hcs #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel nifty #gn!reader #teen!reader #star wars #may the fourth be with you #may the 4th #reactions

[natsuslover]

ur account is so cutee !!

do you have any erasermic headcanons? (*^^*)♡

aww tysm! 🫶

and ofc i have erasermic headcanons they’re so chaotic i love them so much. i didn’t know if u wanted platonic or romantic so i just wrote platonic bc i have more hcs for that 😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic erasermic headcanons ੈ✩‧₊˚

notes— i’m rewatching mha rn so i’m actually really excited to write all these mha headcanons

ft. shota aizawa, present mic (idk his real name)

warnings: very light spoiler in one of them i think

present mic gossips about the students ALL. THE. TIME. (mostly complaining or like random tidbits of tea but it’s harmless) to aizawa but he doesn’t really pay attention lmao.

except from time to time when mic says something that’s so clearly not the truth and aizawa just has to correct him.

when mic asks aizawa how he knows so much about the students aizawa’s like “they just tell me” which gets mic somewhat ticked off because the students never go to him for anything lol.

when aizawa’s teaching class present mic just randomly pops in from time to time to “shake things up”

he blatantly interrupts the lecture and goes up to the podium and gets all sentimental while dramatically retelling the students stories of his and aizawa’s high school days.

meanwhile aizawa just whips out his sleeping bag and uses the time to take a much needed nap.

really i think present mic does that on purpose because he KNOWS aizawa doesn’t sleep enough so it’s his own way of caring.

both of them just sit and reminisce about their high school days every once in a while because they want to remember the good things about shirakumo :(

aizawa’s not the most sentimental person (at least he doesn’t show that side very much) so present mic is one of the only people who gets to see aizawa when he’s really emotional.

they’re literally the grumpy x sunshine, golden retriever x black cat, opposites attract trope.

aizawa always pretends to be annoyed or exhausted by mic’s presence but everyone knows that’s not true.

despite acting like he doesn’t care he’s actually really appreciative of present mics friendship.

aizawa often goes through tough times with all his students (especially izuku, shoto, and katsuki) getting dragged into situations because he cares and worries about them, and present mic is there cheer him up and reassure him that everything will be fine.

present mic has a really optimistic outlook on life which usually uplifts aizawa’s pessimistic attitude.

whenever it comes to lesson plans both of them help each other out to the best of their abilities because neither of them enjoy planning stuff out.

honestly, i feel like even though they were friends in high school, their bond truly got stronger when they started teaching and because of their students.

random but one time in high school present mic dyed aizawa’s hair blond while he was sleeping at a slumber party.

the next morning aizawa woke up to mic’s relentless giggling, looked in the mirror, and was too tired to even care his hair was yellow lmao. he just looked at mic like “seriously dude?” and continued to wash his face.

but when present mic looked in the mirror he noticed that aizawa lowkey looked better than him in his signature hair color and immediately ran to the store to find black hair dye to dye it back.

after all, there’s no way he’d live it down if aizawa started pulling more girls than him…

unbeknownst to everyone else, aizawa and mic have super smash bros competitions every weekend (mic’s idea obviously)

aizawa wins

every time lmao

mic gets super pissed off about it because aizawa’s not even trying like 95% of the time and he’s STILL unbeatable.

present mic hates olives and aizawa doesn’t mind them, so whenever they get food with olives in it, mic spends time picking out EVERY olive and puts them in aizawa’s food.

they both like spicy food but while present mic is huffing and puffing and hakahajcahak-ing through his food, aizawa doesn’t even have a single drop of sweat on his face.

whenever they want to skip a teacher meeting, they use each other as excuses.

like “oh shit mic just uh… fell off a mountain i have to go help him brb” or “damn looks like eraser broke his foot gotta go check!”

they’re both dedicated teachers but sometimes those meetings can get sooo tedious.

aizawa often has to help present much grocery shop even at his grown age because man does NOT know how to shop like an adult lmao.

aizawa’s telling mic how he needs more onions because he ran out but in a split second the entire cart is filled with an entire year’s worth of snacks and junk food.

one glare from aizawa and poor present mic is putting back every single food item that he got lol.

mic is without a doubt the yapper of the duo.

like bro doesn’t know when to shut up and aizawa just goes along with it because that means he doesn’t have to talk as much.

actually aizawa’s like zoned out the whole time but present mic doesn’t really care he just likes that he can talk without interruption.

both of them are such opposites it just works out somehow and i really love that for them.

ok so this is really rushed and def not my best work but my brain is so fried rn i can’t think of anything so i hope this works 😭 i’ll definitely do more erasermic hcs later on when i can actually think tho.

#mha headcanons #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #shota aizawa #eraserhead #present mic #erasermic #aizawa headcanons #anime #mha anime