#fuck it listen to math rock and yell

[heartsfourdazai]

Hi, can you do Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida and Sigma with a reader who has bad dyscalculia? Thanks and I like your writing

"it's okay, i'll help you learn."

warnings: lowercase writing, mostly fluff

guys, i figured out how to do the gradient textttt!! and i love it so much!!! request are open, feel free to request more!!!

@justcallmesakira @atlasnessie @riiwrites @silverbladexyz

dazai, chuuya, kunikida, and sigma with a dyscalculia gn reader

dazai

"can you solve this?" he asked, pointing the tip of the pencil at the multiplication question. the two of you were seated at a small table with a light shining below you. "uh.." you stared at the question, attempting to figure it out in your head. "it's okay to use your fingers." he reassured you, in hopes of calming you down.

"is it...23?"

he gave you a sad smile, rubbing your back as he spoke; "you're close, but just a little far...you forgot to-"

you whined, slamming your head onto the table into your arms as you sob softly. "oh, nonono; baby.." dazai cooed, tugging you close to give you a side hug, hushing you quietly as you continued to sob.

"whuhy is this so hahard!"

he rocks your body back and forth in his arms; "i know it's hard, but we're learning it so it won't be hard!"

"but-but i've behen getting all the questions wrong!! i fehel so stupihid!"

his heart shattered; "nono, 'donna, your not stupid..it's okay to not understand right away; that's why we learn!!" he kisses your temple in hopes of shushing you.

"but-"

"ahah!' he placed a finger in your lip, "you are so much more smarter then you know, you just have trouble understanding it then other people, and that's okay! look; we'll take a small break for now, m'kay?"

he closes the math textbook and shuffles you closer to him and kiss you on the lips; "i love you so much, don't be so stressed about this! besides, i hate math too, such a silly thing to learn. say, when are you ever going to need to know 16x34 in a hostile situation, hm?"

kunikida

"how does THAT make any sense!!" you yelled out of frustration as you swung your arms in the air and crossed them, looking away from the stupid math sheet you've been assigned as homework.

"i'm trying to show you, so you can understand WHY it doesn't make sense.."

maybe asking your boyfriend, who used to be a damn math teacher himself in the past, for help wasn't such the smartest idea.

"now, if we take the 2 and multiply it with the-"

"wait; i thought we were subbing?"

he rubbed the bridge of his nose and side loudly, to which you decided it was best to shut your mouth.

you've been stuck on the same question for the past 10 minutes, and nothing still made sense to you.

"there, did that make any sense at all?" he asked, looking back at you.

you...shrugged, not fully understanding what he had said.

he sighed, again, "y/n; i know you're a smart person you just need to try harder.."

"oh, so you think I'm stupid?"

he blinked, udderly confused..."what, no, of course not- why-"

he stopped talking as soon as he heard you sniffle...

"ih'm sorry...ihi'm just tired of this.."

he understands and just simply closes the book and took your hands into his and smiles; "then we take a break, do you want to order take out? i'm sure we can take a mini break before getting back to work, besides.." he kisses you on the lips, "maybe the break will be just what you needed."

chuuya

"when the fuck did they add letters into math??" he would whisper to himself the second he read your paper. you had asked him for some help, but he always seemed to find a way to not.

it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he was never the best at math.

"uh, okay, first let's...break down...the formula. it says we need to to find the x, pfft, just take a look at shifty dazai's tinder profile, uh, okay seems pretty simple."

you sat silently in your chair as you listened to chuuya read the question out loud; "do you know the formula of a triangle? pretty sure that's what they want?"

you looked at him, biting your nails gently as you shook your head no.

"oh. okay, well that's alright, let's just search it up online!"

and so he did.

"oh shit, i almost forgot about dinner!" he suddenly panics and drops his phone in your hands..."here, you keep at it and I'll be right back!"

he kissed your temple and ran out of your room...leaving you in a shocked and confused state.

about 25 minutes later, chuuya returns from the kitchen. "okay, i'm back. have you-"

he stopped dead in his tracks to see you on the floor of your bedroom, sobbing into your knees as your math papers surrounded you.

"oh, sweetheart.." he crouched down to your body as you sniffled out cries:

"ihi give uhup! ihit's too stuhupid! I'M stuhupid!"

he shakes his head, rubbing your back as he engulfed you in a hug. "you're not stupid, hell far from it! i know this can e tough to learn, i had trouble understanding math as well. but look at me now, i'm still here and doing what i do best without having any idea how to do long division at the top of my head.."

sigma

"ugh, i give up!" you threw the papers to the side of your desk as you closed your textbook shut; your hands grabbing your hair as you glared aimlessly at the wood of your desk.

your boyfriend, sigma, over heard your sudden outburst and closed his book, his eyes focused on you. "sugarplum, are you alright?" he would ask and you sighed, rubbing your eyes as you nod; "yeah. yeah. i'm peachy!" you stood from your seat and made your way to your shared bathroom.

sigma stayed quiet, not wanting to upset you more then you already seem to be. which he still wants to know the reason for.

minutes later, you returned from the restroom.

your eyes were puffy and red as you sat on the bed, close to sigma.

he looks up from his line of view to look at you. you didn't look at him as you fell toward the sheets of the bed, and let out a loud sigh.

"stressful day?"

he asked you and you hummed in response, slowly leaning in closer to you.

he saw your movements and held you closer to him, pulling you into your laps.

"i wish math could solve it's own problems..."

he laughed softly and kissed your head.

"how about, you take a break? you seem really stressed out, and i don't like to see you like this.."

you smiled up at him and nod, "i'd like that..."

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #bsd sigma #sigma #sigma x reader #bsd fluff #x reader #x reader fluff #anime x reader #my writing #๋࣭ ⭑ rue writes 🖋

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 7 - Free Day

Leap

Happy Day 7 of @erisweek2023. It is a double post day. 💙

Summary - Ophelia Archeron, the youngest of the Archeron sisters, is forced to meet with Eris and the Batboys, causing her to miss a day in the Summer Court with Amren That doesn't stop her from finding some fun in the water, though.

Warnings - Giving into intrusive thoughts and kissing strangers, OC tries to do the math for angles and trajectory, but the brains behind the OC hates math, angles, and formulations OC's thoughts are choatic and all over the place. Ophelia is an OC one of my close RL friend's asked for. She had wanted to know how sophisticated Eris would have handled a wild and carefree OC, so she has a few hidden pieces from me based on our book club coffee dates, but she said I could share this one. Also, she was listening to Geronimo by Sheppard when she asked me to write this.

Word count - 1203

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

"I don't know what the Littlest Archeron is thinking, but I would consider speaking with her, Rhysand." I continued staring through the red-haired heir of Autumn, grinning at the close distance from the edge of the waterfall he was. This wasn't a great first impression, but I really didn't care.

If I just get a good running start and jump….. 

I felt Rhysand's eyes drift to me again before refocusing on the important meeting he and the other two bat boys had brought me to.

Azriel had ignored my protests, arguments, and pleads for Nesta to go instead of me. I understood the whole seeing and ripping people's souls was a rare gift, and Rhysand was always super excited to try to use to intimidate people, but I had been promised a day in the sun and surf with Amren. I was missing Tarquin, and Tarquin's beautiful beaches, and oceans for this.

He's approximately 2 feet from the ledge. If I hit him running fast enough, we would land approximately… far away from any potential rocks. Maybe. 

Azriel looked over at me with his eyes narrowed as he watched me do math on my fingers. Eris also began to narrow his eyes at Rhysand. Cassian, though? His smile had grown. Being the bat I had spent the most time with, he knew the second I saw Eris on that ledge overlooking the waterfall, exactly what I was thinking.

Do I yell "Geronimo?" No. That'd be dumb. Focus, Ophelia. 

Eris took a step closer to the ledge and made eye contact with me for the first time. For a brief second the aloof higher than thou expression left his face in favor of something softer. The conversation between him and Rhysand came to a full pause. Rhysand  was holding back his grin the best he could while trying not to laugh as he entered my mind and quickly left after figuring out what I was thinking. I felt Azriel's shadows begin to steal my hidden daggers. 

Maybe I should make sure I land first so he doesn't potentially get hurt. Lucien would laugh at that, though. And Lucien's laugh is my favorite.

Rhysand began the conversation again with his eyes meeting mine every so often. Mischief was shining in them like the reflection of the sun on the waterfall. It was almost as if he was daring me to do it.

Am I even fast enough to do this? I'm totally fast enough. Cassian makes me run everyday. I can do this. 

"Enough! What is the little brat plotting?" Eris began to glare and move another step away from me. A few inches. 4 inches was maybe all that remained between him and that ledge. "I swear on the Cauldron itself, if you so much as look at my soul, I will -"

Fuck it.

I didn't hear the rest of Eris's threat as I broke into a full sprint directly at him. I jumped straddling his torso, effectively pushing him back hard enough for us to fall off the ledge. I felt his arms grab onto me tightly as we fell. Something inside of me snapped as he placed a hand on my head and cradled me for my protection.

His hands are so warm. He'd be wonderful to snuggle. This should be terrifying. Wait. He's laughing. Eris is laughing.

The collision with the pool of water came before I could process the sound of his deep laughter or even brace myself for how badly this could hurt. I felt him grab my hand in the cold, deep waters swimming us to the surface. When we emerged, he pulled me to him by my waist. He was smiling, and I felt myself melt under his gaze. His amber eyes searched my blue ones before he began to laugh again.

No one should look this perfect with hair stuck to their face.

Laughter rang from the ledge above us. Eris and I both looked up to see the bat boys leaned over the ledge. Cassian had his head thrown back, "Did you see his face?!" 

Rhys was smirking down at us, "You never said she couldn't physically attack you, Eris!"

Azriel was shaking his head trying to hide his amusement, "You know, Ophelia, if you wanted Eris to take you for a swim, you could have nicely asked."

I heard Eris hum next to me as his warm arm kept me close to him by my waist, "Ophelia. So the Littlest Cauldron Made does have a name."

My brain desprstely wanted to respond. To answer him and talk to him, but shadows and light dancing had caught my attention. The waterfall seemed to sparkle from down here against a dark background. What's BEHIND the waterfall?

I wiggled from his grasp before ducking back under the waterfall. I surfaced in a small cove and pulled myself up onto the rock. Eris appeared behind me and pulled himself up on the rock beside me. I heard Rhys yell for me before seeing two winged males land on the bank across the water. Rhys appeared beside them seconds later.

He's so warm. 

I felt a hand come to my chin as Eris moved my face to look at him. "Well, little Archeron, do you have something to say for yourself?" I followed the glittering silver thread that attached Eris and I at the heart. I felt it tug, so I tugged it back causing warmth to spread throughout my body and soul. A soft smile came to his face. The hand on my chin moved to the back of my head. Inches separated my lips from his.

Can he feel my heartbeat? Is my face getting really red? Is he about to kiss me?

"I can, yes, and only if you want me to." My eyes widened at the sound of his voice. "Mating bond," his voice was soft and warm as his other hand came, and his thumb began to brush my lower lip. The intensity of his stare began to set my soul alight. 

Kiss me.

He pulled me to him the second the thought came. His lips were as warm as the rest of his body and so soft. I sighed deeply as he deepened the kiss and pulled me onto his lap. My hands came to his face, holding him to me. We broke apart at the sound of Rhysand yelling for me again.

"It would appear that big brother is no longer enjoying your antics."

My only response was to kiss him again. I felt my legs wrap around his waist as we sat chest to chest. He took control and dominance over the kiss quickly. One hand tangled into my soaking hair, and the other held me around my waist, locking me where he wanted me. A shadow pulled me from Eris before taking me to Rhysand leaving Eris and Azriel alone in the small alcove. 

Rhysand snapped and changed me into dry leathers as he studied my face. I averted eye contact from him as a single brow raised. He stated softly, "You have got to be fucking joking."

Pain radiated down the bond, causing me to grip my jaw. Cassian's eyebrows shot up. He stared at Rhys, eyes slightly glazed over before muttering softly. "Ness is going to kill me."

Eris and Azriel appeared in front of the three of us. Eris was rubbing his jaw, smiling at me softly until a growl came from Az. Rhysand snapped his fingers to also give Eris dry clothing before leaning his head against a nearby tree. Eris smirked at me as the 3 Night Court males moved away to discuss the situation.

"Can we do it again?" I looked over at him, studying his red hair, angled face, and soft smile.

He rose his chin towards the ledge and looked my direction, "Jump from the waterfall?"

"No. Kiss."

Eris moved to me, a warm hand gently gripping my face and angling my head towards him, "I would kiss you until my dying breath left my body, Ophelia Archeron."

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #erisweek2023 #eris fic #eris acotar #eris x reader #pro eris vanserra #Spotify

[queenofbaws]

Hi Queenie - can I ask for a number 13?

Hope you have a lovely weekend. :)

He had to wonder what they would've looked like to any passing Tom, Dick, or Harry who'd gotten it in their head to do a little spying. Probably they would've looked normal at first, maybe even downright wholesome, what with Dad in the rocker up on the porch, the rest of them spread around the backyard as they went about their business.

It was only when you looked a little closer that you saw the cracks. Cracks like Bobby chucking not darts but knives at the old bullseye carved into the dead oak stump while Caleb and Kaylee watched in awe; cracks like Travis feeding the fire shredded clothes and 'abandoned' drivers licenses instead of kindling; cracks, God help them, like Dad filling bullet casings with silver shot as he rocked, adding them to the growing pile at his feet after stoppering them.

Wholesome until you looked a little closer. Yeah. Maybe that should've been the family motto - "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," was all fine and good as far as threats went, but times were changing, the family was changing, so maybe the time for threats was over. Maybe now they needed to truck in warnings.

As though the universe itself had caught wise to that mental rabbit hole, Chris's world exploded in a sudden burst of white-hot agony. The backyard tilted around him, then slid. It was only then, as he lay on the ground, that he heard Bobby and the kids yelling. It was only then that he saw the knife protruding from his calf.

"Dad?!"

"Sorry! Sorry! Aw shit, C! I'm sorry!"

Math had never been his strong suit, but it would've been a real idiot who couldn't put two and two together on this one: Bobby'd been having fun with his stupid fucking target practice, Chris had been sitting a little too close, neither of them had been paying attention, blah blah flipping blah.

He forced himself to look at the knife, as little as he wanted to. His eyes kept skittering over it, slip-sliding away as though it'd been coated in oil to keep his gaze from sticking. It'd lodged deep into the meat of his leg - real deep - and that wasn't a shock, considering who'd been doing the throwing, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it not being a shock didn't mean it was any easier to stomach.

"I'm fine!" he called, both to the ones that had seemed concerned and the ones that hadn't been assed to glance his way. "Totally, totally fine! Just don't...touch me."

"Why's everyone shouting like..." He managed to push himself up into a shaky sitting position in time to see Trav turn from the fire, the flames throwing harsh, angular shadows across his already grim face. "What in God's name are you idiots doing over there?"

"I apologized!" Bobby called, repeating himself the way he always did when people started raising their voices at him.

"I'm fine!" Chris added, doing very much the same.

Even from that distance, he could see Travis's eyes narrow. "You're fine, huh? I would believe that, only, here's the thing...you got a goddamn knife stickin' outta your leg!"

Something about his tone triggered a deep, dormant part of him; a voice rose up inside his chest, swelling up and up and up to throb in time with the pain in his leg. 'Do I?!' it shrieked, the shitty, snot-nosed younger brother that still lived inside of him, somewhere, 'Do I have a goddamn knife in my leg?! Wow! Geez! I didn't even notice! Look at that!'

Chris bit that voice off at its roots, severing its strength with his teeth. A good thing too, because a second later Dad was talking, and when Jedediah Hackett deigned to raise his voice, you listened.

"Full moon tomorrow," he said, his eyes downcast, his hands filling shell after shell. "It'll heal good as new. Quit bitching and just take care of it."

There was a beat of silence as they waited. Young or old, infected or not, none of them wanted to be the one to accidentally speak over him. When that moment passed, Caleb made as if to crouch down beside him.

"When you get hurt like that, you're not supposed to pull it o - "

"I don't know what part of 'full moon tomorrow' you failed to understand," Dad called from the porch, the rocker ceasing to rock beneath him. He stood, setting down the last of his shells, then walked the two steps necessary to wrap his gnarled hands around the railing as he looked out at them sprawled in the grass.

What did he see when he looked at them, Chris wondered?

But he felt Caleb's eyes on him, Kaylee's too, and knew they were fretting, even if they didn't let themselves show it. So he grit his teeth in the best approximation of a smile he could manage, and he willed himself to do the awful thing.

"Yeah, listen to your grandpa. Tomorrow's gonna be here before you know it, and this? Well...this will..." He swallowed hard, moving his hand to the knife's hilt. His fingers barely brushed it and his head began to swim. "This'll all heal up good...as...new."

He pulled. It gave. There was a horrendously wet but blessedly short sound that accompanied it, and then it was done. He screwed his eyes shut tight as his ears rang and the inside of his eyelids threatened to go grey. That moment too was blessedly short.

"See?" he said, his saliva thick in his mouth. "Everything's fine. Watch where you're throwing these things, wouldya, B?" With that, even knowing it was the wrong thing to do, even feeling close to passing out as he was, Chris pushed himself up off the ground and found some measure of steadiness on his uninjured leg.

Tomorrow, he reminded himself, he'd pop his skin. Tomorrow, everything in him, on him, about him would be shiny and fresh and new. Tomorrow, he wouldn't even have a scar. Dad was right about all that.

But it wasn't tomorrow yet. It was just today. And as he limped his way across the yard, hobbled up the porch steps, and dragged his bleeding leg towards the back door, he hurt.

"Rub some dirt in it," Dad said as he passed by.

Chris turned to look at them - his family - and all he saw were cracks.

#durorholmes #six sentence weekend #the quarry #the quarry fic #the hacketts #queenie writes supermassive #hehehehehHEHEHE why of COURSE you can!!! ;)c #and thank yooooou!!! i hope you have a lovely weekend too! :D

[zephyruswrites536]

Snow was my favorite character when I read Hunger Games. Do not yell, do not hurtle rocks of hate at me, I finally understand why. I’ve read Songbirds and Snakes and watched it.

Snow is posh and polished, he is a statue of respect and authority. That’s Jonah Magnus, that’s Gabriel(GO), that’s Stede(to a degree- Stede is not an ass), that’s Sherlock, that’s the Doctor. It’s a Poshness that only certain villains can accomplish, and most English characters are gifted with.

The backstory adds another level of respect and appreciation for Snow from me. I am not rich, and I am surrounded by rich people in the state I moved to from North Carolina(where I was raised). I went to a school where money was practically flung around, a donation to the school that wasn’t mandatory but very much suggested was almost 200 dollars. I understand Snow, not because I’m dirt poor and barely living off of my parents jobs, I understand being surrounded by people who can use money to get out of shit that deserve to face.

Snow and I also have a father that is extremely proud of his name, my father isn’t dead, neither is my mother but I understand wanting to live up to the expectations of your father. I have expectations also from my father just like snow who is expected to love up to his father’s name.

Snow doesn’t seem to quite understand to love correctly, just like me! He love bombs Lucy Gray(TO A DEGREE- SAVING SOMEONES LIFE BECAUSE YOU WANT TO IS HUMANE BUT ALSO ITS CORIOLANUS SNOW) and he is extremely possessive. Now I am not that extreme because I literally cannot find the way to love someone without completely throwing myself into Michael’s domain because I spiral(haha I’m funny).

Coriolanus is also the smartest person in his class and his makes sure that that is known, I am like that but not the smartest just pretty smart. He also helps his peers even if he despises them, and given I have Social Anxiety I am terrified to disappoint so I do that too.

Coriolanus also respects people on a level of perspective before becoming a peacemaker that’s commendable. Given the fact his father was killed and he had to SCAVENGE for food as a kid he is allowed some disrespect for the districts. He still respects them once they’re in the capital and he tries to get them an alright time, for his own sake but still.

That leads on to the fact that based on how he’s been treated for DECADES he wants to go as high as possible to help his family and to live up to his father’s name is understandable. I feel like that to a degree because I have constantly been put on high standards by my parents but also because I came from a poor town where GT was only for fourth and fifth graders and had no advanced classes and was IMMEDIATELY placed in an advanced class for math when I moved.

Anyways, all this to say, he has an inclination to make decisions for others on a whim that’ll it will help himself because he cares deeply for Tigress and his Grandma. Yknow who also acts on whims? Stede Bonnet. We love him- Ed teach, we love him too. Aziraphale??? Yes some of the fandom hate him, but I don’t. James and Sirius make A LOT of choices on whims at Hogwarts as the marauders- JONATHAN FUCKING SIMS MY GOD DONT GET ME STARTED- Trexel Geistman- woo-boy…

Anyways, thank you for listening. I love him, you can hate me for that, I’ll take it. 😀👍

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #i love him #he is me I am him but I haven’t killed people or betrayed people so #kinda #love him anyway

[ramen8baka]

Hi, I wanted to ask if you know the kdrama "at a distance spring is green". If you do, I would like to request a Yeojun x transmale reader. Where reader is not accepted by his family due to being trans, but nonetheless he always acts happy, yeojun tries to befriend him and slowly finds out everything and just comforts the reader and ends up in a relationship with him, can be as angsty as you'd like, can contain things like violence or whatever you like, if you don't know the kdrama than could you please write something like that but maybe stray kids han or bts suga, thank you!

Suga x trans male reader

THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD IDEA! except I didn’t see this k drama :( so instead I’ll do it with Suga from bts like you also requested 😅

notes: I made it so reader and Suga are in high school. Prolly around the ages of 17-18 since suga is 29 haha..ha..heh (yes I fucked up the ages but we aren’t gonna talk about it) AND y/h means your hobby(s) ”Hey y/n what’s up?” Suga asks excitedly. “Not really anything. My parents have been so annoying lately.” You said. Suga sat next to you. “Oh, I’m sorry man,” Suga said as he put a hand on your shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it? I mean, I know they aren’t really happy about…” he trailed off. “thanks but it’s ok. I don’t really wanna talk about it right now. I think I just need to cool off for a bit.” “Yeah, yeah of course. What ever you need to do. Just know… if you need someone to talk to you know you can tell my anything.” And with that Suga stood up, smiled at you and walked off shyly. Suga knew what was going on. He’s been taking hints. You had come out as trans awhile ago and your parents still wouldn’t except it. Suga also knew you were stubborn and you wouldn’t want to talk about it. This situation was troubling for Suga because you and him weren’t really that close. You were friends for sure, but just not like best friends. “Hi Suga! What’d you get on your math quiz today? I kinda- well I kinda failed mine. hehe” You walked over to Suga smiling. “If it makes you feel any better I kinda failed mine too.” He laughed. “I did make this drawing in art though. We had to do a portrait of someone we knew like family, friends, cousins, even pets and I didn’t really know who to do and the crusty old lady was yelling at me soooo I drew you.” You scratched the back of your neck as Suga inspected your drawing.

“this is so good! I never knew you could draw well. Do you draw as a hobby?” Suga asked, surprised.

“No, I actually don’t but I do y/h.” (Y/h is your hobby)

“That’s cool! I never knew you liked y/h.” Suga looked down at his watch. “oh no I’m gonna be late for rehearsal! Sorry man I gotta go! Maybe we can hang out some time this weekend? I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” Suga waved as he ran to his car. You just laughed while waving back at him, a light rose color on your cheeks. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Crap suga thought to himself. He was driving home from a dance rehearsal and his gas was super low.

“Ughhh!” He groaned. He pulled over to a gas pump and started filling his car. It came time to pay and- he didn’t have enough change. “just my luck” he walked into the actual store and asked the sketchy counter guy for change. As he was walking to his car, he heard someone. “I can’t do this!” He looked over his should to see

“Y/n?” Suga stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw you.

“what are you doing here?” He asked you. You were kicking around some rocks with the toe of your shoe. “It’s my mom and dad… they yelled at me. again.” You explained sadly while looking at the ground. Suga’s eye’s softened.

“oh. Hey, don’t listen to them. I lo-like you for who you are.” Suga blushed a bit at the fact he almost said he loved you. He didn’t like you like that, right? He couldn’t. You both just became closer friends a few days ago! He liked… guys? No! He couldn’t. “Thanks Suga. You said maybe we could hang out this weekend?” You asked softly. “Yeah. Do you wanna come over to my house? We could do whatever.” Suga suggested. “that would be nice. It’s give me an excuse to get away from my parents.” You look at the ground. “Alright! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Suga called out as he started walking away. He soon stopped and turned around. “oh, do you need a ride? I still need to pay for my gas but I can give you a ride home. If you walked here it must’ve been a long walk.” Suga said. “No, I’ll be fine. My house is actually a bit behind here. I just ran here when I got upset because it was far from my parents. Thank you though.” Suga nodded in response. God, I think I’m falling for him. You thought. God, I think I’m falling for him. Suga thought. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is so good! Chocolate is my favorite flavor. As long as it has chocolate, I’m good.” You say. “Hmm… I like lemon ice cream or strawberry best.” Suga replied. You and him were eating ice cream together after hanging out like you promised that Saturday. You were just happy to be with him after you’d realized your feelings. “/n… y/n? Earth to y/nnn!” Suga waved his hand in front of your face. You blushed for the 100th time that day

“my bad. I just zoned out,” you said shyly.

“has something been distracting you lately?” Suga asked.

“not really, why? It’s mainly just my parents.” You said, confused.

“Well you’ve just been acting kind of weird, you know? Like a little more awkward.” He told you. “oh. Well I gues there is something but it’s really embarrassing. I don’t really wanna say it.” You said while looking down at your lap

“go ahead! I won’t judge you, I promise!” Suga said comfortingly. You never told anyone you liked them before. What if Suga didn’t like you back? Then your friendship would be over! You were scared to risk it. But then again, you’d never felt this way about anyone before. shutting your eyes, you said

“I like you, Suga!” When Suga didn’t say anything, you ran off.

“y/n! Y/n come back! Shit, where are you!” Suga seemed distressed and you felt bad hiding behind the building from him while he was just trying to talk to you. “I’m sorry” you stepped out and said. Suga ran over and hugged you. “No don’t be! I… have felt the same way too. Ever since we became closer friends I felt like this. Maybe we could try something?” Suga asked.

“yeah I think I want to try something too.” You held both of Suga’s hands. Soon you felt a soft pair of lips against your own. It felt weird kissing a guy. And you were sure people were staring, but you felt like you were floating above them.

#Suga x trans male reader #Suga x reader #Suga #bts #y/n is amazing #Thank you for the request <3

[hermioneismyrealname]

Tomorrow (20221215) I have day one of my finals. It's maths.

Mood? Sleepy. Haven't slept in 2 days.

Reason? The last 6 hours I got, I woke up from a dream clawing at my arm and neck because I thought I was 8 again and what happened to me was happening again. SO SLEEP CAN GO FUCK ITSELF!

But after 11 am tomorrow, I will chugg 750ml of black coffee and sleep for 12 hours and start the marathon for biology (20221219), physics (20221221) and chemistry (20221222). Coffee stops me from dreaming.

Preparation? Maths can go to hell.

I've studied and I'm gonna study some more but once the paper is in front of me, the war begins against my brain as I try and pry the knowledge out from the anxiety filled trenches of my frontal lobe.

My body? My chest hurts like fuck.

I keep forgetting to breathe while I'm studying I don't know why. Also doesnt help that my glasses broke and I can't see shit so I'm hunched over my desk like a prawn and have my legs folded cause I'm gay af and can't sit on a chair straight by law.

Emotions? Currently numb.

I know this is going to change when I sit down in the exam hall. I'm just mentally drained. My sources of dopamine that I allow myself is this hellsite (affectionate), some one-shot fluff fics, writing drabbles and learning languages.

My goal? Do my best.

Imma be honest. I feel OK about what I know and I know I can do it, it's just my brain being an ass about it. That sack of flesh tells me to break my ankles for the heck of it, why should I listen to it?

Outcome? To feel proud enough so I don't feel guilty.

I feel guilty a lot. Survivors guilt and mommy issues. I overwork to overachive. I lay down on my bed and feel guilty i havent done enough when i just finished a 6 hour study session. Do more, my brain yells at me. So if I can come out of this like I did what I could, feeling less guilty, I'll be happy.

What do I want to do for the holidays?

Exam first and then think about holidays. But

I want to watch

Between Us (2022) ep 6 and 7

My 12 percent

Not me

Romantic Killer

Blood C

I spit on your grave

Goblin

Maybe rewatch Banana Fish

Space balls

I want to write

My drabbles

That Vegaspete fanfic I've been planning for a while now

That Sapphic story skeleton (idea struck me and I want to post it to *gags**barf**spits* wattpad

Begin copywriting because I'm a broke college student

I want to read

A curse so Dark and Lonely

And like the cycle of the year, we begin again (because it's my Christmas tradition)

Art of war

Maybe the wicked king, idk

I want to play

Minecraft

Potion craft: alchemy simulator

I want to learn languages

Japanese

Thai

Russian

Korean

Welsh

Latin

I want to random research

Anything

And then fritz case

I want to sleep.

I want to practice my forms in self defense. (Im probably shit by now)

I want to go rock climbing.

I want to go for a walk.

I want to talk to my friends and my crush that I've been ignoring for my exams, but like face to face, and give them a big ol hug even though I give really awkward hugs.

I want to eat broccoli and bread.

Didn't I mention sleep?

#exams #finals #exam season #student #college #to do list #aim high hit low #mention of trauma #i want sleep #christmas break #holiday #i want to go on a walk #rant #god i need sleep #between us #i know what happens #i give up #im numb #ah well #tumblr #i came here to list it out so that i didnt forget #i want cuddles #maybe i need therapy #nah #too expensive #especially in this god forsaken country #tired #so very tired #i miss writing #one thing though i can't be me (too gay for mum) at home. like i said. mommy issues.

[astraissadonlysometimesish]

im living and its scary

gosh this is gonna be long, i just need to write this all down somewhere. i literally dont know why i have been putting myself through mental hula-hoops the last few months. i talked with two dumb ass little fucking boys who viewed me as a manic pixie dream girl who just had no opinions on anything and when i called both of them out on their shit they both blocked me and got mad at me. they both listened to heavy heavy rock like doomrock. i just wanted to actually be understood by a man and get that part of my life ig like appreciated by one. im just over it. im over school, i dont get the math, i have a's in every class but at what fucking cost? getting yelled at by my bipolar teacher. dont even get me started on my stepdad. the only thing making me happy rn is music. i only have 2 friends maybe 1 if the other stops actually fucking up our relationship. but i still smile through it all bc yay! life! so cool!!!!!!!!!!!! pedro pascal is pretty fine too. but i just need to get through it bc im usually really happy and i am a happy person its just this week has been really hard. and i just need to get through it. gosh that feels so good to get out. every tumblr user should do that. anyways listen to rock or just music and general and stay cool :D

[jackal-202]

I think it's important to listen to Midwest Emo and Yell

#music #yelling #midwest emo #emo #alternative music #I know I said specifically midwest emo but it isn't limited to just that genre #fuck it listen to math rock and yell #have at it #YELL

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

--

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

TAGLIST (ADD YOURSELF HERE)

@shemarmooresfedora @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @strawberryspence @g0lden-cth @spookydrreid

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader happy ending #spencer reid x reader one shot #spencer reid deserved a happy ending #criminal minds fanfiction

[seraphdreams]

greengreengreen

warnings : smut, fem!reader, drunk sex, suna being a bit of a jerk at the end, college AU

wc - 2.8k

a/n - this was originally gonna be a football!au but i got lazy and changed it back to volleyball

There’s cheering heard from the end of the hallway in the spacious university. Loud whooping and chants were heard as your classmates ran up to the commotion. You continued walking foreward at your steady pace, avoiding the crowd. “Look! The volleyball team is back!” You hear a student exclaim. You pause in your tracks, throat suddenly dry. You swallow, eyes growing wide as you lock orbs on the tall newbie the volleyball team welcomed. His eyes were like a fox’s, narrow and uninterested.

The way the jersey he has on enunciates his long toned torso, has you in awe. He seemed not to care about the praise and applause he was getting but instead taking out his cloth and wiping his forehead with the towel previously draped around his neck.

Your white haired best friend came up to you from the herd, suddenly looking at you in confusion. waving a hand in front of your face. A trance, is what you’re in. Just a split second of eye contact with what you’d describe as the prettiest man you’ve ever seen had you flustered. His allure was so daunting, leaving you almost speechless.

“Hey, Y/N. Hello? Guess what?” You snap out of your thoughts, looking up at Kita. He was also on the football team. His hair was drenched in sweat and face flushed pink. You cock your head to side, a response to his question. “We won the game, and that new second year is amazing!” He continues. “New second year? The one you were just thinking about? He’s....amazing? Is that why he was getting so much attention?” You think to yourself. Once again you were brought back to reality by Kita, clapping his hand to get your attention.

“Oh! Sorry, i was just wondering, when did he get on the team?” You question, straightening up at the loud clasp of his hands. The team finally got through the hallway, walking past you and Kita. He looks to the side, noticing the slow walking brunette. As soon as the man is in the same radius as Kita, he pulls him by the arm, yanking him into the conversation. He was slightly crouching under the shorter’s grip on his arm.

“He’s been on the team for a few weeks, this is Suna Rintarō. He scored us 12 points at tonight’s game.” Kita announces, Suna straightening up as Kita’s grip loosens. Your heart beats faster, feeling as if it’s going to burst out of your chest. “Hi, i’m Y/N” You say in a soft voice. He raises his eyebrows in affirmation, looking at you deep in your eyes.

Kita observes your body language, the way you held your hands behind your back, squeezed your thighs at the look Rintarō gave you, and licked your lips as you looked up at him with “innocent” eyes. Kita whispers something in his ear, Suna walking away a few seconds later. “It’s kinda late, isn’t it? Want me to walk you to your dorm?” Kita progresses. You nod your head and walk side by side out of the now empty hallway.

“‘Samu, i’m telling you, that’s my shoe!” You hear a loud voice from the outdoor courtyard. You spot Atsumu, obviously fighting with his twin. As you and Kita crept closer on your commute to the dorms, he scolded, “Twins! Cut that out!” Osamu and Atsumu halt then straighten out their clothes, scoffing at one another. “I swear they still act like they’re still in high school” Kita says with a chuckle. Pretty scenery of the campus went by as you and Kita continue to chat on your way to the dorms.

It was your second year of university. Kita’s been your best friend since your first year of highschool when you decided to become the manager of their volleyball team. He was so nice and a great person to talk to about whatever, always listening and giving the best advice. You both grew closer as the years progressed, instantly becoming best friends.

You’re in the same grade as the twins, having been with them since your first year as well. They were your source of entertainment and gossip. That’s why you were a bit confused how they never told you about the rookie. “Looks like we’re here.” You say looking at the room number on your dorm. Warm arms wrap around your shoulders as Kita pulls you in for a sweaty hug, flashing a smile at you before leaving toward his own dorm. “Ugh Shinsuke!” You joke opening the door to your room and carefully stepping in.

_________

After a long shower, you work on your school work, still in a towel. You decided to finish a few math problems, chewing at the end of the pen. There was no need to do work now, it was the Friday and the you could relax all weekend, maybe drink some wine. You check your phone. A message from Osamu catches your eyes.

There’s a house party a few minutes away. Wanna come with me?

A party didn’t seem to bad at the moment, you were already showered and hadn’t gotten dressed, having fun won’t hurt. You text him back a “sure”. You weren’t necessarily a party person, only clinging to the people you knew, but maybe you’d step out of your comfort zone. You search through a mess of clothes piled on your chair, stuffed in your drawer, and under your bed, until you found the perfect outfit. Something short. You put on makeup, spraying loads of setting spray to make sure you don’t sweat it off.

You slipped on your shoes and pranced to the door and down the hallway. You look both ways frantically, waiting to see a familiar face. Finally, you see a silhouette of the twins walking towards you. Atsumu held keys in his hand, jingling at every step he made. Once they were visible and in a close enough distance, Osamu cleared his throat. “We have to wait for someone else.” He stated. “Who?” You ask in curiosity, thinking it could be Kita or Aran.

You hear a door unlock from the back of the hall, the man was walking slowly looking down at his phone.

From where you were standing it looked like he was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. “Suna! Hurry the fuck up!” Atsumu yells. He looks up from his phone and slowly jogs up to him. You felt your heart pulsate the same way it did before. “Suna was coming? Why didn’t Osamu tell me?” you ask yourself. Once Suna caught up with the group, you all walked out the dorm hall and down the stairs.

It was a long quiet walk from the courtyard to the student parking lot, Suna being on his phone and the twins not speaking.

Atsumu found his car and unlocked the door, him driving with ‘Samu in the passenger seat and you and Suna in backseats. You strapped yourself in, everyone else following suit. Osamu hooks his phone up to aux cord, playing his playlist.

The rod was about 15 minutes long. ‘Tsumu pulls up to a large house on an almost abandoned street. There were lights flashing, seen from the windows and reflecting outside. You could see people outside with drinks in their hands, laughing at whatever nonsense they were talking about.

You look over at an unamused Suna, still looking down at his phone. “Who’s the designated driver?” Osamu questions. Atsumu raises his eyebrows and turns to his twin, eyes lighting up. “No. I don’t trust you” His twin replies, sitting back in the seat, arms folded. “I promise i’ll stay sober ‘Samu!” He pouts childishly. Osamu scoffs in response unbuckling his seatbelt. The group treads out of the car. You fix your outfit as you close the door to Atsumu’s black 2019 Dodge Charger.

You walk behind the group, keeping your eyesight fixated on the broad back of the brunette in front of you. Atsumu opens the door. You’re greeted with loud music, a blend of different bodies, and on your far right, tall stairs with a few people sitting down at the front. Nobody you knew was there except for the company you came with. You walk to the least crowded place, the drink table. You weren’t really a heavy drinker, but a shot or two wouldn’t hurt in helping you loosen up. The air suddenly smelt of a heavy masculine scent.

“Do you know what you’re drinking?” The deep, quiet voice says. You turn your head, meeting his chest then looking into his eyes. It was Suna. You nod and point to the label written on the bottle, “vodka”. He chuckles, a breathy laugh erupting from his throat. You smile at his expression, a little confused.

“What?”. He sets his drink down on the counter and puts his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You look a little bit lightweight, and there’s a lot of alcohol in your cup.” You scoff, putting the cup to your lips, inhaling the green apple taste, shuddering at the burning sensation that comes afterwards. The boy you thought was quiet wasn’t as quiet as you thought.

You lock your eyes on the snake tattoo that wrapped around his lower neck then disappeared under his shirt. He caught your examining eyes then looked over your head, a hungry Osamu stuffing his face with hors d’oeuvres. “What does that tattoo mean?” You ask. Rintaro inhales, then takes a sip from his drink. “I forgot. I got it when i was really high” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. You look up at his slit-like eyes, they glowed green, obvious evil intent behind them. You look down at the now empty cup in your hands. “Damn, you finished that fast” He says, eyes wide as he peers at the red cup in your hand. He finished the drink in his hand soon after, as to one-up you.

The conversation went on for what felt like hours. You grew more and more intoxicated as the minutes passed. The bass in the music throbbing in your head. Everything that came out of Suna’s mouth sounded slurred. You nodded at every noise you could comprehend. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in front of you. You felt a large hand wrap around your waist, tugging on the fabric of your shirt. You felt swaying motions behind you.

The heartbeat of the figure prodding aggressively against your head. The music was slower, sensual even. You try to reach for your phone in your bag, haziness fogging over your mind. A hard grip on your arm knocks you out of your daze. You felt hard pulling, trying to look up at who was dragging you up the stairs. To your surprise, it was Rintarō. As you ascend up the stairs, you pass rooms. Suna checks the locks on each of the doors then opens the door of finally unlocked room in the middle of the hall.

The room was dark with only the pale moonlight shining through the window, insinuating the unholy bright green glint in his eyes. He motions for you to lay on the bed. You do as told, not sure why.

He kneels in front of you, wrapping his rough hands around your thighs and spreading them away, face to face with your cunt. He groans at the sight. “Are you a virgin?” He questions, snapping you out of the lust that was growing in your core. You shyly nod your head. “Do you want me to continue?” He solicits, looking up at you. You nod your head slowly.

He wraps his limber fingers around the waistband of your bottoms, pulling them down along with your underwear, a string of slick connecting your garments with your warm body. Another groan slips from his mouth, “So pretty.”

He attaches his lips to your clit, sucking and licking the bud. You arch your back, fisting the sheets beneath you. His gaze into your eyes like needles piercing your skin, sharp. He uses his skilled tongue to lap around your slit, dipping in and out. The cries you let out are loud, causing him to slow down his pace. He removes his lips from your cunt. They were glossed in your slick. He licks his lips then presses a thick finger into your hole. You yelp in surprise, gasping as he brutally finger fucks you. You tangle your hands in his dark brown locks, crying out words like “please” and “fuck”. He slips in another digit in no remorse for your poor tight cunt. The way he curls his fingers inside you while thumbing your clit has you in pure ecstasy.

You hiccup as you feel your orgasm pooling through you. He sucks the creamy liquid you left on his fingers. A vexatious smile on his face as he stands up and towers over your small frame.

“I want you to take all of me.” He demands. You look down at the growing bulge in his jeans the back up at him. You whimper at the sight, scared for your hole. He leans over to meet your eyes. He places sloppy kisses on your lips, using his tongue to part your lips. You scratch at his back as he deepens the kiss by pressing his tongue against yours. You kiss back letting him take control. He runs his lips down your jaw, meeting your neck.

He sinks his sharp canines into your neck harshly sucking on the flesh. He leaves little love bites all the way down to your chest. He stands back and looks at your abused body, proud of the work he’s done. He slides his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor next to your bottoms. The snake tattoo you previously seen before looks more prominent now, more dangerous. You lean back, spreading your legs wider as he pulls his cock out from his jeans. He strokes a few times before aligning it with your drooling cunt

He slowly glides the tip in, sucking his teeth at the way you clench around the fat head. You wince at the pain. He tries pushing in once again, you getting tighter at each advance. He reaches his hand over to your thigh, rubbing the skin in small circles. “Breathe.” He whispers in spite to soothe you. You deeply inhale then exhale. Suna pushes halfway through, groaning at the feeling. An image of your smile flashes through his mind, the way you made him feel warm. “Hey?” He questions. You look up at him, confused by the childlike grin on his face.

“What’s red and shaped like a bucket?” Rintarō jokes. You shoot him a confused look. “i don’t know.” You say. “A red bucket.” The laugh you let out was quickly cut off by a sharp inhale. He thrusted his full length inside your cunt. “Sorry” He apologizes apathetically. You mewl at his dangerously fast pace inside you. It hurts but the pain was soon overridden by pleasure. He rubs your clit in harsh circles. You slip your hand under your shirt to play with your nipples.

A soft moan escapes from your core. The bliss was immense, leaving you breathless as he continued to bruise your cervix with his terribly accurate thrusts. You couldn’t take too much of it before you felt your core heat up. The pleasure ran through your whole body, attacking all of your nerves. You felt numb, mumbling and babbling unintelligible words.

“Good girl, you take me so well” He praises, pressing down on the bulge visible in your stomach. You moan at his words, trembling from the orgasm that’s about to crash through you. “Su-“ You try to let out. “I’m gonna cum!” You mewl, trying to sound as audible as possible. You wrap your hands around his wrist while arching your back. Hot liquid splashes his lower abdomen, coating his cock with your cream.

“Fuck, you squirted” He gasps, chasing his own high. The overstimulation leaves you tired and unable to respond to his thrusts. His thighs tense as he nears his orgasm. He sprays his warm seed in your cunt, painting the walls white. You both pant as you catch your breaths.

He tucks his cock back into his pants and grabs his shirt on the floor, putting it on. He tosses you your bottoms. “How does it feel to be bred your first time?” He mocks. The green glow in his eyes came back, more vibrant than ever. He leaves the room, leaving you to clean yourself up. You laid in the bed for a while, a text from Osamu waking you up from almost dozing off.

Come outside, we’re leaving

You trot downstairs, collecting your things and meeting the twins at the car. Atsumu looked to be out of it completely, Suna recording and laughing. It seemed like you and Rintarō became strangers again, he didn’t acknowledge you at all. Osamu was driving this time. You opened the door and sat on the seat, seeing Suna glued to his phone once again. There was complete silence the whole ride back, except Atsumu talking to himself.

You leaned your head back on the seat and fell asleep.

#suna smut #suna x reader #suna x reader smut #suna rintaro #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro smut fic #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #rintaro suna #smut fic #suna oneshot #suna fic

[harrywritingsbyme]

For your firsts series. I wonder if Harry is into period sex. I think he is. My idea is reader is the one nervous about it

That Time

A/N: This will be the 3rd “installment” of A Series of Firsts. This concept has been in my head for a REALLY long time so shout out to this anon for dropping this in my inbox and forcing me to write it😂. Enjoy🙃

Being horny and on your period at the same time was the absolute worst feeling in the world. You were dying for Harry to touch you, but at the same time you felt absolutely gross. You also were worried about the possibility of you guys’ bedroom looking like a murder scene if you did decide to jus throw in the towel and let Harry touch you. Just the thought of it could make you squirm. You thought that Harry would be grossed out by the idea of it all too but he was far from it. Harry couldn’t have been more down with the idea. If anything, Harry was the trying to convince you to go along with it. 

“Please.” Harry begs, crawling over to where you were laying on the bed.

“Do you really want me to bleed all over the sheets?” You ask sarcastically.  

“Y’know theres a lot of health benefits to having sex when you’re on your period.” He says, completely dodging your last question.

“Oh my goodness Harry.” You burst into laughter at how adamant he was in convincing you.

“M’serious Y/n!” He replies amusedly. “Want me to read them to you?”


“Go ahead Harry, tell me how good period sex is for me.” You concede, lifting yourself up to sit against the headboard so you could listen to him. Harry quickly digs in his pocket for his phone and he pulls up the “credible” source he found online.

“Okay, so the first and most important benefit is that it can help relieve some of your cramps.” He begins to read off the so called “benefits” of having sex right now. “The second is that we can have shower sex, and I know how much you love shower sex.” He continues, making sure to look up at you from his phone to see your reaction. 

“Keep going.” You beckon for him to continue. 

“The third thing would be that it helps increase your sex drive, even though you’re already covered in that area.” You couldn’t help but laugh at this one. Simply due to the fact that he wasn’t at all wrong about your sex drive. “And the last thing would be that theres a natural lubricant involved. Even though we both know that lube is the least of our concerns when it comes to sex either.” Harry says suggestively, alluding to the fact that you were always nice and wet for him.

“That sounds great and all but I’m still a little bit on the fence.” You admit. Before replying to you, Harry gets up and pulls you down by your legs so that you were lying on your back against the bed before climbing on top of you.

“Just wanna make yeh feel good.” He whispers down to you, trapping your body beneath his. “Wanna feel good right?“  He asks, pushing his hips down into yours. The pressure you were feeling down there from not only from it being that time of the month, but also from being extremely turned at Harry’s persistence was starting to really get to you. Add onto that the fact that you had all of this built up sexual frustration from the past two weeks of no sex, and that Harry was right on top of you, and you were just about gone. Without any hesitation, you hook your arm around the back of Harry’s neck and you pull his face down to yours, smearing your lips against his. When you do this, Harry gladly reciprocates, pushing himself further against you. You could feel Harry rocking his hips back and forth against you, pushing his bulge directly into your center. Feeling him against you only makes you spread your legs wider for him before fully wrapping your legs around him, keeping him tight against you. 

You then turn your head away from him, detaching your lips from his.

“We can have sex. Only if it’s in the shower.” You agree. 

“Let’s do it then.” He smiles back. He leans down once more to smack his lips against yours. As much as you wanted to keep going, you wanted Harry even more. You quickly push back against Harry, causing him to fall back against the bed with you on top of him. You pull yourself off of him and you make your way to the bathroom, with Harry trailing right behind you. When you get to the bathroom door you quickly stop him in his tracks.  

“You stay in here until I yell for you. Okay?” You instruct him. 

“Fine.” Harry grumbles back. 

“Good boy.” You praise him, making sure to give his cheek a light tap in the process. You quickly shut the door so that you could get yourself situated. Back in the bedroom though, Harry is already stripped down, laying completely naked in the bed. So to pass the time he knew you were going to need, he wraps his hand around his hard cock and begins to lazily tug. Not having sex for the past two weeks was killing him just as much as it was killing you, and he finally reached his breaking point. He also knew that your hormones go through the roof when it’s that time of the month. When he did the math in his head, your hormones plus the built up sexual frustration on both ends all added up to amazingly explosive sex. 

While you’re alone in the bathroom you quickly strip down completely, pushing your clothes into a little pile in the corner. You turn the water on and you make sure that it’s nice and hot. You step into the shower and you stand directly under the hot water. You were trying to get some of the “ick” you were still feeling off of your body, and you were also trying to get a little more relaxed before Harry came inside with you. Once you’ve completely calm and ready you call out to Harry for him to come in, making sure to raise your voice so that he could hear you over the running water.

When Harry hears you call him, he practically leaps up from the bed and sprints right to the bathroom. Once he opens the door, he’s instantly met with a large cloud of steam. He closes the door behind him and he makes a b-line to the shower. He opens the foggy glass door and steps in behind you. 

Without hesitation, Harry steps up right behind you, standing right under the water with you with his body pressed up against you. His arms instantly go around your waist and his face goes to your neck. He begins to leave open mouthed kisses on your neck, every once in a while sucking hard on the delicate skin. As he does this, you can feel his cock gliding between your legs and against your folds. Neither of you could stop the moans from leaving your mouths. The both of you were dying to have even an ounce of physical contact, so to be pressed up against each other like this was a lot for the both of you. 

“Y’want me to make you feel good baby?” He mumbles into your ear, continuing to keep a tight grip on you while pushing his cock between your legs.

“Please.” You beg, feeling the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening and tightening as the seconds went by.

“Wanna feel me in y’pretty little tummy baby?” He continues, pressing his hand into your lower stomach. 

“Just do something already.” You plead with him, pushing yourself back against him. Instead of replying, he sucks one final hickey onto your skin before pulling away from you. He turns you around and he pushes down against your back, signaling for you to bend over in front of him. You plant both hands firmly on the tiled wall in front of you and you bend over for him. He moves in closer to you, and he wraps one hand around your hip, and the other around his cock. He slowly guides himself into you and he’s finally getting what he’s missed so much.

“Fuck” he groans loudly behind you. Somehow, your walls managed to feel wetter, warmer, and tighter all at the same time. He couldn’t believe how he managed to go two weeks without being buried deep inside of you.

“Y’so deep.” You slur, hanging your head down low, taking in the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You could feel your walls stretching to accommodate his size and you could also feel him going so deep that you could feel the thick head of him nudging at the knot in the pit of your stomach.

Once he’s fully inside of you, he wraps both hands around your hips tightly, and he begins to thrust into you. At first his thrusts weren’t hard, allowing you to adjust to him. But after each thrust, he began to pick up speed. Hearing the sounds of your moans and the wet sound of your wet skin slapping against yours echoing throughout the bathroom was intoxicating to Harry. 

Not only was he thrusting into you, but he was also pulling you back and forth on his cock. In that moment, Harry was making you feel so good that you couldn’t even focus on keeping yourself up against the wall. So you just decided to let go of the wall completely, bending all the way over so that your hands were fully bent over, taking in every last thrust he gave you. You then hear a small chuckle come from Harry, and he begins to slam his cock as hard as he could inside of you. He was slamming into you so hard that he could see the water droplets splashing up from where you two were connected. 

“Like this baby?” He pants, continuing to pound into you as hard as he could. 

“Oh my god yes.” You whimper, lifting your hand back up against the wall to pull yourself back up.

Harry could sense that you weren’t going to be able to hold yourself up any longer. So he pulls out of you, and he turns you around, wrapping you in his arms before pulling you up and into his arms. He presses you against one of the cool glass walls. You wrap your arms around Harry’s neck, burying your face in his neck as he pushes back into you.

He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around the undersides of your thighs and he begins to move you up and down on his cock, along with thrusting up into you. He can hear your whines echoing against his skin and he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

“Look a’me baby, let me see that pretty face.” Harry pants, continuing to fuck into you. You  pull your face from the cook of his neck and your head falls back against the wall. Your mouth is wide open and your eyes are snapped shut. “Open those pretty eyes f’me.” He growls, thrusting up harder into you. Your eyes slowly open to look at him and his eyes immediately lock in on you. “Need yeh t’cum with me sweet girl.” He mumbles, continuing to slam into you. “Can yeh be a good girl and cum with me?” He slurs, feeling himself nearing the edge. 

“Yes.” You cry out to him, keeping your eyes locked in on his. 

“C’mon baby, cum with me.” He grumbles, slowing his hips down and instead giving you a few more shallow, yet deep thrusts. 

“Oh my god!” You cry out to him feeling your release crashing down onto you. When you feel this, so does Harry. He can feel himself instantly unravel that instant.

“Fuck!” Harry groans loudly, feeling his cum pour out of him, and flood into you. Both your breaths get heavier as you two ride out your orgasms. 

Once you both are done, Harry sponges a kiss to your temple and tightens his grip on you. 

“Hold onto me baby.” He instructs softly, lifting you up higher against him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, dropping your head back into his neck. He wraps his arms around your back before moving to turn the water off. He walks you both out of the shower and he unwraps an arm from you, picking up two towels from the rack before taking you both back to the bedroom to get you both ready for bed. “M’gonna get yeh all cleaned up baby.” He whispers to you, even though he knew that you were still in a complete haze.

By the end of it all, you were very happy that you went along with Harry’s idea.

 Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme #A Series Of Firsts

[sunkissedspider]

Anatomy Lessons | Peter Parker

Anatomy Lessons | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send me an ask or message me your request if you have one***

based on this ask

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: when you start to get frustrated after studying, Peter helps to make you feel better

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, making out, fluff, etc.

listen to: something smutty lol

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

     "Sixty three?" You ask, your eyes shut tight as you wait for Peter to answer you.

     He lets out a long, sad sigh, upset that he's going to see you angry. "Forty two."

     "Goddammit!" You breath out, slamming your head against your desk, letting out a small "Ow." afterwards, the sound being muffled by the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

     Peter lets out a small laugh at your actions, before clearing his throat and speaking up. "Listen, don't worry about it. It's just math, we all suck at it sometimes-"

     "Easy for you to say! You're a fucking genius!" You yell, crossing your arms before looking up at him with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be yelling at you. I just feel like an idiot." You say, the tears that had already pricked up in your eyes starting to slide down your face.

     As soon as Peter saw that you were crying, he stood up, moving to your side of the desk and wrapping you in a warm hug, placing you in his lap, kissing your forehead and your hairline. "You're not an idiot, baby. You're far from that. You're just stressed out, you've been trying to cram your brain with everything you can all day and you haven't taken a break yet. You just need to relax."

     You leaned your head up to connect your lips to his, both of you pulling away after a few moments, one of Peter's hands coming up to wipe your tear trails away from your cheeks the best that he could.

     "You're so beautiful." He mutters against your lips when they connect again, your hands running through his curly brown hair. "And smart." He adds, your hands going to cling onto the front of his sweatshirt as his grip on your waist tightened. "And such a fucking smartass."

     You scoff, rolling yours eyes and slapping his chest playfully before he grabs you gently by your neck, pulling your face close to his, before smashing your lips harshly together again.

     "Mhmm, Peter," You moan out when Peter's head dips down to your neck, sucking light purple marks onto the smooth skin, his teeth skimming harshly against the crook of your neck. "Fuck me." You groan, Peter's lips curling into a smirk after you let out a small whimper as his hands go underneath your sweatshirt, his fingers smoothing underneath your breasts, moving up to squeeze teasingly on your nipples.

     "Anything you want, princess." He moans, picking you up and slamming you onto your bed, both of you groaning when Peter placed himself between your legs, grinding against you harshly as your lips met together in a series of hungry, open mouthed kisses.

     Peter tugged at the hem of your sweatshirt, causing you both to pull away for enough time to get it off, Peter's following quickly after.

     "Please fuck me, Peter." You moan, Peter's head moving to kiss the tops of your bare breasts, moving farther down to kiss your stomach, his fingers toying impatiently with the waistband of your sweatpants.

     You lifted your hips up allowing Peter to slide the thick material, along with your underwear, down your legs.

     "Oh, fuck," He breathes out, your whole body shivering from how close he was to your heat. "God, you're so wet." He chuckles darkly when your back arches at his light touch, the fingers of his left hand circling your clit as two of the fingers on his right move farther down, pushing into you as you let out a loud whimper. "You like that, baby?"

     "God, yes!" You moan, Peter's head moving down to attach his mouth to your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you lazily as you let out countless breathy moans.

     Your whole body shakes when his fingers curl upwards, brushing against the spot that made you scream, as his tongue laps in a steady rhythm at your exposed folds, making your eyes squeeze tightly shut, both of your hands gripping his hair tightly.

     “Shit, fuck, Peter! God, I’m gonna-“ You scream, Peter’s touch moving away from you right before you let go, causing you to sit up on your elbows and look down at Peter, an annoyed look on your face. “Really? I was just about to cum.”

     “I’ll make up for it soon… Trust me, baby.” He said, chuckling darkly as he stood up, rolling his sweatpants and underwear down his legs before he moved to hover above you, his lips meeting with yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

     Peter rocked his hips against yours, hissing at the tightness of your walls around his cock as he finally eased inside of you. His lips connected with yours as you threw your head back, moaning as his tongue flicked against yours.

     “Move… please.” You begged, causing Peter’s eyes to meet with yours before he pulled his hips back, waiting until you whimpered into his mouth to snap them forward again.

     “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans, his lips connecting with the soft skin of your neck, his sharpness of his teeth grazing dully against your collar bone as he sucked deep, dark marks onto it.

     Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his back to bring him closer to you.

     “Fuck, Peter! Oh my god!” You shrieked, your hands moving to grip onto Peter’s shoulders, your fingers smoothing over his muscles.

     One of his hands moves to grab the wrist of your right hand, grabbing the wrist of your left after, placing them above your head and holding them there, your lips just inches from each other’s as you breathed heavily against Peter’s mouth, your eyes rolling back as the pace of his thrusts quickened, making you moan loudly and breathlessly.

     “Fuck, you feel good. I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groaned, his free hand moving in between the two of you to rub against your clit, him being determined for you to cum first.

     “God, I’m gonna cum, Petey.” You moan, your back arched as Peter continued holding your hands above your head, his fingers rubbing even faster on your clit than before.

     “Cum for me,” Peter practically demanded into your ear, taking a pause to groan loudly. “Cum for me, Y/N. You feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. I wanna see you cum underneath me.”

     The mixture of praise from Peter and the mixture of sensations that he was giving you was enough to send you over the edge, a scream ripped through your throat, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as the weight of Peter crashed on top of you, his own orgasm rippling through him at the same time as you, his arms finally giving out on him as he fell on top of you, both of you letting out groans as Peter continued thrusting into you through your orgasms.

     “Fuck, thank was good.” He chuckled after a while, moving his head up to connect your lips in a sweet, tender kiss; a complete contrast to his previous actions.

     “Mhmm.” You hummed, your eyes closing as you ran your hands through Peter’s hair, damp with sweat.

     “Do you feel better now?” He asked, looking up at you and giggling at the fucked out look on your face.

     “Much.” You breathed out, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

     The both of you smiled into the next kiss that Peter initiated, and the many other’s after that.

__________

@ertherealrose @peter-tiingle @petertiingz @fallinfortom @spideyyeet @am3l1a-24

#peter parker smut #smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spider-man #spider-man x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #mcu smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x y/n smut #peter parker #tom holland

[biotic-boshtet]

“I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.” for Norah Jean and Kaidan

cogratatualtions you get an argument! and Garrus being awkward bc he enabled Norah Jean's recklessness!

“I know what you’re thinking, and no. You’re not doing it.”

“Kaidan, you have no clue what I’m thinking.”

“Bullshit, Sugar, you’re thinking of charging over and digging me out of this corner before that Brute notices me.”

“Huh, no, I actually was thinking about how much this hole in my arm fucking hurts. But now that you mention it, that is a great idea.” Norah Jean isn’t so sure the sarcasm comes across through her grit teeth.

“Don’t you dare. I can get myself out of this and you are going to sit tight and stay down till I can get there to help you.”

She gets quiet as she listens to the gunfire, watching her HUD as enemy signatures slowly close in on Kaidan’s position. Her biotics respond involuntarily to her rising stress levels, flaring up and settling down with the breathing she’s forcing steady. The hardsuit’s medical suite’s already done all it could without medigel, which really isn’t all that much. Applied pressure and tried to dose her with painkillers. Immobilized the entire arm. An error message flashes on her screen, “AUTOMATIC INJECTION SYSTEM ERROR”. She got half a dose. Maybe. Great good all of it does her when the medic is pinned down across the field.

“Norah Jean, I can see you glowing from up here, you’re not planning something stupid, are you? I did hear Kaidan to tell you to stay put, and correct me if I’m wrong, but he does outrank you now, right?” Garrus’s voice crackles over their private channel.

“Y’know, I wasn’t planning anything, but Kaidan gave me a lovely idea, though now my window is gone. Not sure how long my suit can keep me from bleeding. Painkillers are kicking in, kind of. I think the biotics are kicking into meltdown mode.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of something really stupid.” She watches a handful of husks fall to Garrus’s rifle, then focuses on Kaidan’s hiding spot and the cluster of mutants around it. Her shields were nearly recharged. Kaidan fells a husk and ducks back into cover. The Brute swings its head towards the sound of Kaidan’s pistol and takes a single step.

“If you tell me, I might be able to help, I promise I won’t tell on you. You know, unless it’ll definitely kill you. Then I’ll tell Kaidan.”

“I might, uh, I think I’m gonna charge the Brute. If it gets Kaidan I’m as good as gone, its still too hot for Steve to get in here. But if I distract it before it charges at him? Maybe even catch it off guard and get a few good hits in? You can cover my back while I deal with it.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Norah Jean can imagine perfectly the face he’s making, mandibles slightly flared, eyes squinted, doing mental math. Ruthless calculus. “It might just work.”

“He’s almost out of ammo, and he’s exhausted. After he’s out he won’t be able to keep up the biotics for long. Kaidan’s a sitting duck. I’m doing it.” The brute scratches a foot on the dirt, snorting. She overrides the medical stabilization lock on her right arm joints.

She flicks over the squad channel.

“Bombs away, boys.”

Norah Jean charges before Kaidan can ask what she means.

Time slows down. A husk in her path falls before she can touch it. The Brute gallops towards her and her heart pounds in her ears. Her arm throbs. She isn’t even fully out of the charge before she’s overloading her barrier as she’s slamming into the creature. Her helmet goes dark in an effort to protect her eyes from the resulting flash, and her shield generator is screaming warnings at her. But her shotgun is in her hands and the Brute is still on the ground. The kickback is worse than usual, but she usually doesn’t get shot either. The Brute doesn’t get back up.

She charges one more time, slamming herself into the Marauder that made its way behind Kaidan’s cover. It goes down with a well-aimed shotgun blast before Kaidan can even blink.

“Norah Jean, I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.”

She opens her mouth to respond, then sways on her feet. The shotgun hits the dust. Kaidan reacts.

Norah Jean blinks and she’s sitting with her back against the rocky outcropping, Kaidan tinkering with a panel on her suit. His kit is open on the ground beside them. She hears a snick and within seconds she has of a full dose of pain meds. She could cry with relief.

“Heyyy, Honey.” Her voice cracks as she leans her head back against the rock looking at Kaidan.

Kaidan glances up at her, then back down at the portion of plating he’s working to remove. “What the hell, were you thinking, Norah Jean? I had it covered.” He gets the plate off. “Steve’s on the way, ETA is about 5 minutes.”

“Couldn’t let you get killed.”

“Right, so you nearly kill yourself instead, thanks.” The medigel is cool and tingly when Kaidan applies it. “Do you even know how hard you hit that thing?”

“Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I could tell. Your suit clocked the impact at almost 1000 newtons. Then a third of your systems did a hard reset, and a handful of others just fried when you burned your barrier. Shields barely held through the blast, then failed the second you hit the Marauder. You’re lucky you already had your gun out, or we’d also be dealing with a point-blank gunshot wound.”

Norah Jean didn’t even try to defend herself; he was right. The stunt she’d pulled was stupid and reckless on a normal day, but she’d do it again, countless times, for Kaidan.

“And I’ve taken away your joint lock override privileges until further notice.”

“That’s fair.”

Garrus finally joins them, sauntering over as he collapses his rifle and slings it onto his back.

“Did you know she was going to do that, Garrus?”

“I didn’t not know that she wasn’t not going to do it?” His mandibles twitch nervously.

Kaidan stares at him.

“I plead the fifth.” The turian looks around Kaidan to Norah Jean, stage whispering, “Did I use that one right?”

She winks and gives him a shaky thumbs up.

“Unbelievable.”

#mass effect fic #shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #garrus vakarian #norah jean shepard #otp: we know the score #mandi writes #commander-krios #custom femshep

[imagineredwood]

“You’ll always be mine. No matter what.”

Summary: Worried about what your future marriage holds and getting cold feet, you decide to pack up and leave while your fiance Miguel out. He comes home before you can get out though and when he realizes what you were planning, he’s not happy in the slightest.

Pairing: Dark-ish!Miguel Galindo x reader

Warnings: Rough sex, mouth fingering (Is that a thing? Is that what you call it?) gagging, choking, mild degradation, fear play but you’re actually lowkey scared just a little lmao. It is consensual and at no point is he forcing you/the reader but it is an aggressive encounter. 

Word count: 2.2K 

***No one asked for this but you’re getting it anyway 😂 Special shoutout to my wife @breanime​ for hyping me up to get this out there. I was also gonna do a face slapping scene but I just felt like I needed a different set up. Next time 👀 **

You hurriedly stuffed your things into your suitcase, shoving in whatever you felt was important and could not be left behind. You already had one suitcase packed and a large overnight bag stuffed as well. You knew that you needed to hurry, you only had about forty-five more minutes before your guard returned. The guard had been ordered to stay with you all the time. No matter what. Of course, when in the house, you were allowed to have your own space. He and the other guard did rounds around the home keeping a secure perimeter. The main guard had left on break already and now it was just you and the new one. You were sure you would be able to sway him. Miguel was going to be business meetings all day and after a particularly relaxing bath, you had come to terms with something.

You were going to leave.

You did not know if it was going to be permanent or just for a couple of days to gather your thoughts, but you knew you needed to get away. Miguel had proposed around three months ago and the first two had been perfect. It was as if gasoline had been added o the flame that the two of you had. You were always hungry for each other and Miguel was as dedicated and committed to your pleasure as he was to his cartel.

But the reality had started to set in quickly. Once you both had returned from your vacation where Miguel had proposed, it was back to the real world. You had grown even closer and Miguel was starting to let you in a little more each day.  But the more he let you in, the more you started to read the writing on the wall.

The long nights where he came home late.

The days where you barely saw him as he was cooped up in his office.

The mornings where he couldn’t stay and eat breakfast with you because he had somewhere to be, so you ate them alone.

You started to see what your married life would entail. How lonely it might be. How you might end up spending more time with your guard than with your husband. That Marcus would probably see more of him that you would.

You saw yourself being lonely, and you were not sure if that was a life that you wanted. You would rather be lonely because you were single than lonely because you had an absent husband. So, with quick thinking you had asked the rookie guard to leave the house and pick up a dress that you had ordered. He had been hesitant, but you had promised him that you would stay inside with everything closed. He had agreed reluctantly and as soon as you knew he was gone, you had started to pack. You had purposefully given him an earlier time for the pick-up so the dress would not be ready. It would buy you just a little more time to hopefully make your escape. You still hurried though, zipping the suitcase closed.

As soon as you finished it, you stopped, ears perked up as you heard footsteps. You could hear the shoes coming up the steps and you cursed under your breath. They were Miguel’s shoes. You could clock that sound anywhere. He began calling to you as he came up coming closer and closer to the master bedroom.

“Mi amor? Where’s Ricardo? I haven’t seen him.”

You panicked, not knowing what to do. You would not be able to put everything away in time, not when he was already outside. You felt your blood run cold as Miguel showed up in the doorway, a smile on his face as he looked at you with adoration. He could see the fright on your face and knitted his brows before looking around the room. And he saw it then. Your essentials almost packed, his brain doing the math.

His smile was gone then as his eyes scanned the room, trying to convince himself that he was just mistaken. The worry on your face told him that he wasn’t though. You looked like a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, except this was much more severe than just having dessert before dinner.

His entire aura changed, and the air went from loving and soft to tense and foreboding. Miguel stood straight then, pushing himself off the doorway and taking one slow step forward. Then another, his voice low and dangerous.

“Where are you going, mi vida?”

You weren’t used to the sound of venom dripping from those words. They were usually draped in tenderness. Now they felt constricting, like they were wrapping you in barbed wire, tighter and tighter with every step.

“Hmm? Were you going to take a vacation? Get away for a couple of days?”

Miguel continued to take slow, deliberate steps, his dark eyes staring unwaveringly into yours. Every move was calculated. He was building up the anticipation and your fear was doubling with each step. He made the rest of the way to you until he was standing before you, the toes of his perfectly shined shoes touching yours, his front pressed against yours. His teeth were clenched in his mouth, his jaw so tight it looked like it could shatter.

“Or were you going to leave me?”

His voice was a low rumble. No yelling, no booming baritone. Just a low, even, menacingly calm voice that had your heart thumping in your chest.

“I…”

Miguel nodded, reaching down to grab your left hand, bringing it up so he could gaze at the significant rock he had placed there.

“Yeah, you were, weren’t you? My fiancé, mi reina, my future wife. My soon to be other half. Planning to leave me while I was away. Planning to disappear without a trace right under my nose.”

He chuckled then but there was no humor, his voice even lower when he spoke again, a veiled threat lurking.

“You know I would’ve found you anyway. No matter where you went, what you did, I would’ve found you. There’s no hiding from me. I will always find who I’m looking for. You should know that querida.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles gently as he chuckled again, sucking his teeth at you and shaking his head.

“So naïve. So foolish. Just a silly, stupid little girl. Aren’t you?”

He moved in a blur then, so fast you couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Before your brain could register, he had you spun around and slammed forward onto the top of the dresser, your ass propped high as you tried desperately to keep your tippy toes on the floor as he yanked your panties down to your knees, the fabric scraping your hip where it snagged.

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”

Your voice was urgent. Miguel loved you and you loved Miguel. You felt that you were high up on the list of those he would never dream of hurting. You felt he would never kill you, never ever, but your instincts were still trying to catch up to that idea. Miguel agreed from behind you, his hands bringing your arms to cross behind your back as he held you there. He latched his hands onto your wrists and held them together with one hand while the other traveled down to unbuckle his belt.

“Oh, I’m sure you are, mama.”

His voice was condescending while yours was pleading.

“I am, Miguel. I’m sorry. I was just-”

“Shut up.”

You listened and stayed quiet, watching him through the mirror in front of you as he freed himself from the confines of his Armani slacks. You couldn’t see him, your own body blocking the view, but the motion told you that he was stroking himself. You locked eyes with him through the mirror, your gaze pleading with him and begging for forgiveness. He leaned down, placing his mouth close to your ear as you felt the very tip of him starting to press at your opening, both making a shiver run down your spine.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re mine, and I’m gonna make sure you understand that by the time I’m done with you.”

That was it and then he was standing, his hips pushing forward as he entered you swiftly. You were wet from the fear, though you would never admit it, so there was not much resistance. It still stung though, the stretch having you hissing and whimpering. Miguel only paused for a quick second before he was pounding into you, his hips slapping into your ass. He was not taking it easy on you, his thrusts hard and rough. Your body bounced with each thrust, your hips pressing painfully into the very edge of the dresser.

“Everything I do for you. All the ways I spoil you. How much I love you. None of that shit matters to you I guess.”

His thrusts grew more brutal as he continued with the sentence, riling himself up at the thought of you really leaving him without a word.

“I was scared.”

Your small, breathless voice made his hips stutter for a moment, not having expected that to be your response. He picked back up quickly though, his voice a growl.

“I’ll show you scared.”

In hindsight, maybe he would have listened and tried to soothe you if you had only sat down and talked to him. Asked him to hear your worries. To spend more time with you, try harder to be around more. You hadn’t given him that choice though. You had tried to take the choice away from him and you knew he deserved to be mad.

“I’m sorry, Miguel. I am.”

The cartel leader continued his punishing pace, his thick cock disappearing into you with each push of his hips.

“You fucking should be.”

“I am. I am. Please,”

You tried to sit up some, but he pushed you back down, your body trying again.

“Please, Miguel. Let me make it up to you.”

He paused for a moment and you could see the contemplation in his eyes as his chest heaved in both fury and exertion. You used the hesitation to stand back up straight on shaky legs and turn to face him slowly, bowing your head some and looking up at him through your lashes. You tried to make yourself look as submissive as possible, knowing what it would bring out of him.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes were burning as they looked into yours.

“Get up there.”

He tapped the dresser and you hopped up, his hands grabbing your calves and pushing you up before spreading your legs and coming to stand between them. You looked down, trying to get a view as he pushed into you, but his hand grabbing your throat brought your attention back to him. His grip was firm, his fingers squeezing the sides of your neck as he pushed back into you and began pounding into you again. He kept his eyes on you, watching your face. As angry as he was, he would never want to truly hurt you. Roughing you up was a different thing though. He choked you harder, your vision swimming slightly.

You kept your eyes on him, trying to offer your apology through your gaze.

“You belong to me. You know that.”

You nodded as best as you could in his choke and he let go of your neck, opting to grab your chin in his hand and hold it firmly to keep your eyes on him.

“I know. I know. I’m all yours.”

Miguel sneered and gave a fake smile.

“Forgive me for not believing that.”

You gulped and tried to think of something to say but nothing came to mind. Nothing that would fix the current situation at least. So, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your mouth, taking his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking on the digits. You felt him twitch within you and hoped that you were onto something. As Miguel’s hips slowed to a stop, you thought that you had, but as he reached up and placed his other hand on the back of your head, you realized you may have just set yourself up for more punishment.

And you were right.

With one hand holding your hair and keeping you in place, Miguel pushed his fingers even deeper into your mouth, deeper and deeper until you gagged. He pulled them back out smoothly but left them in your mouth as he hushed you.

“Shhh. Just take it. Show me that you’re sorry.”

You nodded and tried to relax as he pushed his fingers in again, his fingertips massaging your tongue as they went down your throat. You gagged again but he didn’t take them out this time, only pushing them down to his knuckles and keeping them there for a few seconds more before finally pulling them out to let you catch your breath. He watched as your eyes watered, tears gathering in your lashes, a thick line of saliva connecting from his fingers to your mouth.

He wasn’t nearly done with you though. He was going to ruin you for the rest of the night until you could barely walk, and every step reminded you of just who owned you. His anger seemed to have dissipated for the most part, now only an overwhelming need to conquer and possess you.

“You’ll always be mine. No matter what.”

You nodded and clenched your pussy around him, drawing a groan from the still well-dressed man. It may have seemed manipulative, but you were prepared to do whatever it took to get yourself off the hook. So, with a look of innocence, you kept your still watery eyes on him leaned back against the mirror slowly, pulling your legs up to spread your pussy for him.

“I’ll do anything.”

General taglist @piccasoe​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @gemini0410​ @woahitslucyylu​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @that-chick212​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @glimmerglittergirl​​ @elcococruz​ @fanaticfangurl21​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @encounterthepast​

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24​

#miguel galindo #miguel x reader #Mayans MC #galindo cartel #mayans imagine #imagines #mayans fx #miguel galindo imagine

[dreamy-writings]

Dust

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 886 Warning: Gore (?) Not sure.

The rubble and dust clouded your vision as you heard screams, the flames roaring in your ears. There was so much blood. Too much blood.  Everything was too loud, too frightening. It felt like something straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Help..please..” It was so quiet you almost missed it. It must be someone close… You turned to the direction of the voice, trying to find them. 

Eventually, you spotted a figure. They were laying down on the ground, breathing heavily, their eyes hazy. Their clothes were drenched in blood, and not all of it was theirs. It was sickening.

“I’m coming! Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” You yelled, and the building shook once again, making you stumble, almost falling to the ground. “Ah, dammit, I-” A huge rock fell on their head, crushing it. Blood splattered around. The lady who was once before you, was now unrecognizable. And you could do nothing, but stare.

You were supposed to save her. You were supposed to help. She died. Because of you. You let her die. You began sobbing, trembling. And then, it was all a blur. ~~~ “Y/N!” Midoriya waved his hands around, trying to get you back from wherever your mind has chosen to take you. “Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. You nodded, frowning a bit. “Where’s Bakugou?”  “Oh, he said he’d go fight the villain. I’ll need your help with saving the civilians, is that okay?” You hesitated, then gave him another nod. “Let’s go, you go upstairs, because you can float. I’ll start from below.” “Okay!” The green lightning enveloped his body as he launched himself into the air, like a firefly, as Todoroki would say.

And..you were left alone. All by yourself. You took a deep breath, deciding to just go inside. You could do this. You wouldn’t let anyone die like last time. You’ll save them just like you’re supposed to. You went into the building, quickly searching for any survivors. It wasn’t as bad as last time. There was barely any blood, and most people were evacuated. It wouldn’t be bad. You could save them. Everything was going to be okay.

“Anyone here?” You called out, looking around almost desperately. Until movement caught your vision. “Help!! Please! My son is caught under the rubble.” The color was starting to drain from your body as you stared at both, the lady and her son. “Help!!” She screamed again, and you could do nothing but stare. The building shook.

.

.

.

“Dumbass, what the hell were you doing standing there?!” You barely registered his words, as you were swept away from the scene, but you were able to see Midoriya pick them both up, and fly out of the building. He was a much better hero than you were. You were useless. You were just a burden. “Sorry.” You mumbled, not knowing what else to say. There was nothing to say. He stopped somewhere close to where the building was, but it was relatively empty. You looked up at him, confused. “Explain. What the fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been acting like yourself for the last two months.” Katsuki demanded, trapping you with his arms, and you bit your lip, not knowing what to say.

“I...I don’t know.” He scowled, holding your arm, his grip tight, “I’m not letting you go until you fucking tell me.”

You teared up, starting to cry. “I don’t know. I don’t know! Just leave me alone!” He stared as you began to break down in front of him, and his heart twisted with guilt. “I don’t know. I can’t save anyone. I can’t be a hero. I can’t do anything!” You sobbed, crying into your hands. You hated this. You loved him so much, but after seeing you like this, he’d never want to look at you. Hell, you might get kicked out of U.A, right?

But you deserved it. You were nothing next to Katsuki. Katsuki was strong. Katsuki was brave. And Katsuki behaved just like how a hero should. Katsuki and you were nothing alike, and you could never be with someone as amazing as him. Because, even you knew, he deserved someone much, much better than what you were right now. And as all those thoughts rang clear through your mind, you felt him wrap his arms around you against all the logic and the math you had done. He pulled you close, stroking your hair. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s our damn job, yeah, but we can’t save everyone. If you dwell on it then you ain’t gonna be able to save anyone else in the future too. Would you rather just sit around and be useless or save who you can?” He rationalized. “But I was too-” He put a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Shut up. Listen to what I said, ‘kay? Think about it, dummy.” And then, he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, ruffling your hair, looking away from you. “I’ll go back, the police probably have some questions for me. I’ll meet you at your dorm later tonight. You go back to U.A, rest up, won’t you?” You nodded, too surprised to even talk. “Good,” another kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be there soon.”

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #panic attacks #flashbacks #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha headcanons

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

like other girls - in defense of lauren mallory (pt. 3)

life goes on.

the volleyball team crashes unceremoniously out of the season at regionals. when lauren shows up at lunch the next day each of her friends is holding a balloon with you did your best (probably) written on it in sharpie. she feigns offense--and then lunges out with her fork, popping mike’s so quickly that he yelps and falls out of his chair, and she laughs until her lungs hurt.

the other four, she ties to her backpack and totes around until she gets to stats and mr. cogan tells her she’s causing a disruption.

by thanksgiving, lauren’s dad is in forks, not seattle, and mr. weber hasn’t invited any of his congregation over this year, so the mallory-stanley-weber conglomerate descends on angela’s house, like they have on-and-off ever since elementary school.

lauren helps her parents haul an overwhelming number of sides out of their car, mrs. weber makes menudo instead of turkey, and mr. stanley waltzes in with four pies--three pumpkin, and one apple. the argument over the leftovers is warm and well-worn, and lauren rolls her eyes as she hands off clean dishes for jess to dry so that angela can shelve them.

when the adults break out the wine and expand over the table, lauren and jess follow angela back to her room. they attempt monopoly, until jess catches lauren sneaking one 500 too many out of the bank and slaps her hand, accidentally sending an entire row of houses flying across angela’s blue comforter, and they switch, laughing, to uno.

(it’s better than nothing, lauren tells herself, over and over again, ignoring the ache in her stomach, the itch in her fingertips that’s sometimes more like burning. it’s jess, it’s your best friend, that matters more than--than--)

the mallorys spend christmas break in seattle with lauren’s grandma--andrew even flies in from vermont.

lauren does all of her gift-shopping in bright malls with soaring ceilings, breathing in the chatter of the crowds, and ducking into coffee shops whenever she feels like it. they even watch a professional ballet troupe do the nutcracker one night. she lies awake in her dark guest room, dizzily exhausted, and thinks this, i want this, i want to be somewhere just like this.

on new year’s eve, lauren perches on her desk, (they've only been back two days, so her armchair is still hosting the contents of a half-unpacked suitcase), nursing a cup of tea and flipping through a fashion magazine from her grandmother's coffee table. an engine sputters outside her open window--she glances out just in time to see tyler crowley’s van skid to a halt on the curb.

for a moment, lauren panics--then jess sticks her head out a window and yells he’s got fireworks! get down here!

they rattle up to the cliffs and pile out of the van. they weigh the blankets down on the rocks with mike's electric lantern, huddle together for warmth, passing around drinks, and tell stories about their winter breaks--mike almost broke an arm, apparently, the one day it snowed, bailing at the last possible second from a sled tied to the back of connor's truck.

at 11:58, they crowd around mike’s glow-in-the-dark watch, counting down to midnight--and then they shower sparks out over the ocean.

red and green and gold go whizzing out into the air, and they whoop, watching the clouds light up for split seconds, over and over.

lauren glances at jess. the colors are shimmering on her on her flushed cheeks, catching in her dark eyes as she stares up to the sky and cheers, bright and wild enough that lauren can feel it humming in her bones.

angela wanders up behind her, and jess spins to grab her by the shoulders, shouting something and laughing--and lauren loves both of them so much she has no idea how to carry it--

angela catches lauren's gaze and smiles--it’s soft, and this one lauren knows exactly how to read. jess sees it and spins--and lauren watches her eyes get even brighter as she waves her over.

it's enough. it's more than enough.

get over here! jess repeats, and lauren does.

they go back to school, and it's--normal.

lauren drags her grades up a few percentages now that she doesn't have practices to worry about. tyler stops by the lunch table to invite them all to the basketball games--and even looks at lauren when he says it--and they agree. angela's stress about the yearbook starts bubbling over--she keeps missing lunches, spending them in ms. kimble's classroom editing instead, and lauren and jess take turns ambushing her on the way to biology with snacks.

and then the police chief’s daughter comes back to forks, and jess drags her to the lunch table, beaming.

lauren scowls. toys with a fork. watches mike--who jess has been desperately, quietly crushing on for months now--bounce and bumble into the new girl’s orbit. watches edward fucking cullen stare at her too--and of course she stares back, tuning jess out completely, because that’s not rude at all--

and she watches jess. asking questions, sharing gossip, offering all their little lunch group’s jokes and stories and meetups up to this nobody--

lauren’s sitting too far down the table to kick bella swan’s chair, but for a petty second, she wants to. she grits her teeth, doing her best to ignore it.

she doesn’t think about how tentative everything feels right now, how close to crashing down around her--she’s never made friends easily, she knows, she’s heard her parents and her teachers cluck about it all her life, but it never mattered because she had jess and she had angela and now jess is latching on to this new girl like--like--

angela flags her down in the parking lot after school that friday and invites her over. (lauren doesn't know whether to be grateful that she doesn't have to keep turning over this bitter anger alone, or hurt that it's this obvious she needs--something--right now.)

the twins are at soccer practice, and mrs. weber on the sidelines, so they have the house to themselves. they play music as loud as angela's little cd player will let them, and spread the nail polish out on the living room floor instead of the bathroom, leaning back against the soft gray couch as they talk.

angela starts with a simple white, and lauren uncaps a vivid, glittering green.

i just--who does she think she is? lauren erupts finally, when they've exhausted the upcoming math test and rumors that principal mckinley's finally going to be fired and eric's new dog. just because she's from fucking--new mexico or whatever, she thinks she can waltz in here and the entire school will just roll over for her! it's such bullshit!

i don't think that's what she wants, angela says calmly, she seems pretty shy. she didn't ask for jess to pay attention to her.

well then i'm mad at jess, lauren spits--and is unspeakably glad that angela doesn't look up, just keeps tracing the rainbow she's painting onto her big toe. she didn't ask. she didn't think about what we--whether we wanted to deal with some weird new kid--who is the literal police chief's daughter, by the way--she doesn't care that bella clearly doesn't give a shit about anything except the cullens, she just--she should care, and she doesn't!

the words hang in the air, and lauren is surprised to find tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. she's dug her hands into fists, and the still-wet green is streaked across her palms.

angela recaps her little purple jar carefully--then lays her cheek on her knees and her eyes on lauren, cautious and far too knowing behind her glasses. can i ask you something?

lauren locks her eyes out the window. sunlight seeps weakly through the clouds, bouncing off blue curtains that she accidentally smeared peanut butter all over the summer after second grade, when mike showed up in angela's driveway out of nowhere and they all piled into the window to gawk.

sure, she says--far too aware of angela clicking the cd player off, of the huge and empty silence in the little house.

do you have a crush on jessica?

for a second, it feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. with fireworks bursting out over the black ocean above and lighting up the underbellies of clouds. like the dizziness of looking down, down, down to a black depth, where the only hint of an end is lines of white that must be waves, crashing against rocks that are hidden by the night--

i think i might. lauren's voice is smaller than she's heard it in years.

okay, angela says, hey, lauren, it's okay! and it's not until angela's arm goes around her shoulders that lauren realizes she's crying.

you shouldn't--she tries, and angela just squeezes tighter, so lauren lets herself crumple onto her friend's shoulder and cry.

when there’s nothing but silence left, angela shifts around to sit in front of lauren, who leans her aching head back on the couch cushions--she can’t look, she can’t--

listen, angela says--grabs lauren’s hands and squeezes. i don’t care, okay? whatever...whatever my dad says, whatever anyone says, i don’t--it’s okay. you’re okay. it doesn’t change anything.

sometimes i wish it would, lauren tells the ceiling, and angela is quiet.

it won’t be like this forever, she finally says.

something deep in lauren settles. she breathes--her eyes are raw and her throat is sore and her hands are a little bit shaky between angela’s cool palms, but she’s breathing.

i still don’t like the new girl, she says, and angela sighs--lauren can hear the laugh behind it.

come on. let’s go find the polish remover and redo this.

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#lauren mallory #jessica stanley #angela weber #listen. angela+lauren friendship makes me feel a lot of things #i just #god #aargh