#but thing is. i'm not sure if i like it...

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[ddejavvu]

mean! logan fucking his girl while holding her in a headlock 🤤🤤🤤

Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, manhandling, he has reader in a headlock, don't like don't read.

Your nose gets pushed into the sheets over and over again, and you're sure it'll be raw later, but not as raw as your cunt. Or your neck, which Logan has in an impressive chokehold. His biceps are bulging as he holds you both up on his elbows, your neck securely pinched between his bicep and his forearm as he pins you to his chest.

He's grunting like a rabid animal, teeth bared beside your ear as he fucks your cunt mercilessly from behind. His hips slap against your ass at the same frequency that your face is slammed into the mattress, and you can barely moan before your tongue hits the sheets.

"Logan-" You wheeze, clawing at his arm for purchase, begging for respite from the crick quickly forming in your neck as Logan holds you in place.

"Where you goin', huh? Stay put," He growls, arm tightening around your throat- not to cut off your oxygen but to fizzle out the weak writhing that you've started up on the bed. Your movements are only making things inconvenient for him, and he holds you steady so that he can continue driving his cock into your hole.

"Logan, I want-" Your protests crumble into a whimper, Logan's bulk caging you in as you writhe uselessly against his strength. There's nothing to be done- he's infinitely stronger than you and he's decided that today you'll move how he wants you to move- you'll be fucked how he wants you to be fucked.

"Shut up," He snarls, bracing more of his weight on your torso so that you sink further into the mattress, "Just fuckin- wait, wait 'til I'm done with you and then you can move around however you want. I'll give you a mouthful'uh my dick if you just wait, shit- make it easy for me, baby, just lemme have you like this."

"Take me, Logan. Take me- have me however you want me," You whine, taking a sudden burst of pride in going limp in his arms: you'll be his perfect little fuckdoll. You'll let him use your hole to get off, and then you'll get to clean him up afterwards. You know your safeword by heart and right now it's the last word you'd ever dare to utter, not when Logan's hitting that delicious spot inside of you that makes your legs tremble.

He snickers, voice suddenly clearer and darker, "You're a fighter. S'funny watchin' you squirm like that. You think you could wrestle me off, sweetheart?"

He flexes his biceps and you feel it against the thin skin of your throat, your heart pounding as you arch back into his rapidly quickening thrusts, "Mm, that make you all crazy? Thinkin' about wrestling with me? Rollin' around and getting pinned down, that's what does it for you?"

You cry out into the mattress as Logan viciously fucks into your cunt from behind, your neck still caught in his strong arm.

"Good," He grunts, breathy and gruff as his weight bullies you flat into the mattress, "'Cause I'll win that fight every time, sweetheart."

[redjennies]

honestly it's heartbreaking to see more and more people dismiss all the Palestinian GFMs on Tumblr as scams, no matter how many people are working tirelessly to make sure real people get direct aid. like literally nobody is denying there is a scambot problem. people are trying to debunk the scambots, but people will still be like "oh i didn't say you shouldn't donate to Palestine. I just said I block and report literally everything I get without looking at it anymore and outright said multiple times that you really can't trust the vetters either." and then when they get called on this because it is frankly a bad take, they get patted on the back by the fucking Tumblr hug circle of utterly spineless uwu white liberals who honestly just didn't want to have to feel a negative emotion about themselves like "oh you're so brave for saying this. having to think about bad things happening to other people was practically an assault on my mental health. thank you for validating that I'm the real victim here."

[dazzelmethat]

Here is a weirder mashup that I thought could work. Praying mantis blue heron. When I think of animals similar to a praying mantis I can only think of the stalking and snagging approach of water birds. Maybe in a world with huge praying mantises they can also fill that niche.

It's a series now! ; Cricket-cat, Weevil-anteater

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[nanaslutt]

stuck in the dryer w/ perv!Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, rough sex, multiple orgasms, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talkkk!!

ʚ note: welcome back perv geto, we have missed u (gramarly spell checked this for me but i didn’t proof read it so possible grammar mistakes below)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

"Fuck, Suguru!" You yelled, the sound echoing around from where you were stuck inside the dryer. Somehow, when trying to get the last towel out of the dryer, your hair got caught on the inside of the dryer and you couldn't for the life of you get it out. Your abdomen was starting to cramp from holding yourself up while you were bent over in the dryer on your knees while you desperately yanked on your hair trying to get it unstuck.

When you heard his footsteps get closer, echoing the floorboards you sighed a little in relief. You tried to tilt your hair down to look at him between your legs, but your hair was too tied up and wouldn't allow for much movement. "What the hell am I looking at?" Suguru laughed. You couldn't help but notice he stopped walking, he just stood by the door and watched you wiggle your ass while you tried to free yourself.

"My fucking hair got stuck when I was getting your laundry," you yelled, "please help me get it out." Your only response was a laugh before he started walking again, closing the distance between you. "So you're stuck in the dryer then?" He responded, crouching down behind you on his feet. He placed his elbows on his knees and tilted his head at you from behind, mesmerized by your ass.

You obviously knew what it looked and sounded like, you weren't born yesterday. "Yeah, haha, so funny, I'm stuck in the dryer. "With your ass out." He added unhelpfully. "With my ass out."

"You know," he started, his large hand rubbing over your ass making you flinch before you relaxed again, "I could do some pretty bad things with you at my mercy like this," You sighed when he started massaging your ass with his hands in a circular motion, his thumbs dangerously close to where you now ached. "Don't even think about it, perv, it's starting to get hot in here, help me out." You couldn't help yourself from wiggling back into him when you attempted to pull your hair out again, the action only making him grope you with more effort.

"Yeah? Want me to help you out?" He responded, his tone so cocky you just knew he had a stupid smirk on his face. You were about to retort when he rubbed the pad of his thumb expertly against your clit through your shorts. "Suguru," you whimpered in a pathetic effort to get him to stop, the sound coming out more pathetic rather than serious.

"What baby?" He asked, the sound of his zipper moving making you clench your thighs in anticipation. "Thought you said you wanted help?" He chided, removing his thumb from your clit to grasp the band of your shorts. He slowly slid them down your ass, his lips making a smacking noise when he kissed the skin of your behind as he did. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and suppressed a smile. This whole situation was so fucking cliche.

"I've thought about you like this, you know," Geto said, the sound of his hand moving over something long and thick making your mouth water. You would recognize the sound of him jerking off from anywhere. And by the sounds of it, his tip was already leaking so much from how wet it sounded. "You watch too much porn," you responded, rolling your eyes. Geto reached for your ass with one hand and spread you open, exposing your pussy more for him before he landed a wad of spit against your opening. "Haven't watched any since I got with you."

You gasped and gripped the opening of the dryer when he rubbed his spit and your combined wetness around. "You sure you wanted help getting out of here? Because you're so fucking wet right now, it's like you wanted me to fuck you when you're stuck like this," He laughed, pressing his tip against your entrance before relenting the pressure. He did that teasing movement over and over again, making your hole clench in anticipation only for him to pull away and leave you hanging.

"Jesus christ, if you're gonna fuck me then-" your words were cut off with a scream when he slammed his entire cock inside you all at once. The burn was barely recognizable when he immediately started up a brutal pace, "what was that?" he laughed through a groan. If your hair hadn't been stuck, you would've smacked your head agaisnt the inside of the dryer from how hard he was pounding you.

"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so fighting tight, h-holy fuck baby," Geto groaned, gripping your waist in his large hands and pulling you back to meet his thrusts. All you could do was whine and take it as his fat tip abused your gspot repeatedly with expert precision. "Taking it so well, my cock was m-made for you." He must have really been enjoying himself, because you could feel him drip inside you, making the squelching noises between you louder and louder.

You pressed your thighs together to bring your clit some stimulation to deal with the onslaught of pressure he was giving the inside of your pussy. You crossed one ankle over the other and your shins kicked up between his legs uncontrollably from how hard he was giving it to you. "Do you like this? You want this?" He groaned, reaching his hand around your body to find your clit and rub it in fast circles. You nodded, knowing he couldn't hear you, but you hoped your loud whines were enough for him.

You thought you upset him when he pulled out completely with a grunt, but you almost cried when you felt his tongue breach the ring of your cunt. "F-fuck, fuck Suguru!" You cried, reaching one of your hands behind you to tangle your hand in his gorgeous dark hair to keep him pressed agaisnt you. He continued rubbing your clit in little circles as he ate you out like a man starved. His lips were moving on your cunt like he was making out with it, and fuck did it send shivers down your spine.

"Almost- almost came," he moaned between licks, his voice muffled by your cunt as he could barely pull himself away to talk, "Almost filled you up in under a minute, that's what you fucking do to me, oh yes pretty yes- squeeze my tongue-" You squeezed your eyes tight, his words only tightening that ball of pleasure in your stomach more and more. You couldn't believe how into this he was, it was like he was possessed.

Geto started rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit at an inhumane pace, making you scream out in pleasure. "Uh huh- uh- mmm- fuck- fucking give it to me," He gripped your hip so hard with his other hand you knew for sure it was going to bruise. Your legs shook as you felt the first wave of your orgasm crash over you. Wetness dripped between your legs and into his greedy mouth that was groaning against your cunt, some of it falling on the floor, but you didn't have time to think about how he just made you fucking squirt when he pulled his tongue away from you and slammed his cock back inside.

"Oh, you're so fucking soft inside now," He grit through his teeth, his fingers never relenting against your clit. You could barely breathe between screams as he pounded into you and gave you no time to recover from your orgasm before he was quickly sending you headfirst into another one. "S-suguruuu," you wined brainlessly, your chest hitting the opening of the dryer repeatedly as he manhandled your body back and forth each time he sheathed his cock inside you.

"I know princess I know, gonna come all over me again? Gonna squirt on my cock this time while I fill you up? You want that?" He was rambling, a tell that he was close, but you also knew that from how reckless his thrusts were getting. "Y-yeah, yes Sugu give it to me," your words were slurred but he understood the message well enough.

"Yeah you're gonna take it while you're stuck in there, gonna make sure you don't w-waist a single drop," He groaned, rubbing your clit in messy circles. His moans and groans turned into gasps and higher-pitched sounds as he was brought toward the edge. You could picture his head tipped back with his jawline shown off for you. His eyes would be twitching behind his eyelids as he was unable to open them from how much pleasure he was feeling. He looked absolutely beautiful in your mind's eye.

His hips stuttered and his fingers tightened against your hips at the same time you came around him. Geto whimpered when you squirted all over him just like he wanted you to. "H-ah s-so fucking good to me, s-o so good so good," He moaned over and over before he stilled with a loud whine. His moans cut off with a gasp before you felt the first rope of his seed fill you up and he groaned again with it. His body shook and jolted behind you with the force of his orgasm. He was stuffing you so full and all you could do was grip onto the side of the dryer and take it while he ruined your pussy and filled you to the absolute brim.

You started to come from your high, remnants of your own orgasm dripped from your cunt and slid down your thigs adding to the mess on the floor. Geto curled his body over yours and stuck his head in the dryer with you, his soft hair cascading around your shoulders. Your back and abs ached with the effort it took to not let your head dangle how you wanted, and you gasped as you turned your head to the side to look at him through hooded eyes.

There was a dopey, handsome smile on his face as he looked at you. You could still see your wetness smeared all across his cheeks from how messy he had eaten you. "Hey," he said, rolling his hips inside you to stuff you full. You gasped and your eyes rolled back as he pushed his softening cock against your overstimulated gspot. "Don't roll your eyes like that unless you wanna get fucked again, pretty princess," he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose.

You sighed and struggled to catch your breath. It was hot enough inside the dryer without his lungs hogging up all the oxygen too. "Get me out of here and if you say please I'll consider it, you fucking pervert," your words held no malice, and they made Geto laugh before he slid out and reached for your hair that was pinched in the dryer. "I'm a reallyy good boy when it comes to begging to fuck your pussy. Give me a couple minutes and I'll be good to go."

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[fumiliar]

self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.

your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.

"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.

kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.

"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.

"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.

"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.

"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"

"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.

"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.

"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.

"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.

"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.

"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.

"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.

restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.

"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.

"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.

"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.

"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.

"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.

"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.

"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.

"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.

"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."

kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.

"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.

[ddejavvu]

mean!logan who instantly goes soft when reader needs to use the safe word 🥺

Safe Word - Logan Howlett x Reader

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, use of safe word, don't like don't read.

The harsh grip that Logan has on your hips melts into a softer, sweeter, more tender thing as soon as the word leaves your lips, 'Apricot!'

You gasp for breath as Logan's hips stop abruptly, giving your abused pussy a rest from the relentless thrusting of your superpowered lover. It's not his fault that he can go more rounds than you, but you need a break.

His nose nudges at your cheek, his lips pressing chastely there against your jaw.

"Okay. Okay, alright. Calm down."

You're sure he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, maybe he can feel the tightness of a sob pent up in your chest. The uncomfortable stinging of your overstimulated cunt begins to fade but you're not ready to go again, instead relishing the way that Logan's thick thumb brushes sweetly against your cheekbone.

"Relax." He collapses beside you, grunting soothing words as you clutch desperately at the bedsheets like they're your lifeline.

"Easy," Logan murmurs, reaching for your fingers and prying them off of the sheets. He may be the one with claws, but you're close to ripping the sheets. You're more than happy to trade fabric for flesh, gripping gratefully at his hands as he settles in beside you.

"What's'a matter, sweetheart?" Logan croons, and you're not surprised by his newfound tender side, but you have to admit you forget that it's there sometimes. He's typically stoic and gruff, and sometimes you forget that his lips can press so caringly to yours when typically he uses teeth.

"It- I was- that's too much. For me. I'm not- I need a break." You babble, and he runs his fingertips over your tense grip on his hand.

"Right. I forget sometimes." He admits, butting the bridge of his nose up against the sloping of your cheekbone, "We can be done for tonight. Can you stand?"

"Hm?"

"We'll take a bath." He proposes, but when you stay silent he adds, "Nothing like that- I said you're done for the night. I'll clean you up, that's all."

Warm water and lavender scented bubbles call your name, but you're reluctant to part from the warmth that Logan's chest emits. You burrow against it in a silent plea, and he seems to understand what you mean.

"Alright." You're sure there's a toothy grin on his face as he buries his nose in your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. "Come on, then. It'll be harder to do if you're sitting on me but I'll figure it out. Ready to move, honey?"

You could. You're not feeling light-headed, only residually sore, so you could walk to the bathroom with almost no issue. Instead, you tuck yourself further into him and release a noncommittal groan into his chest. He scoffs, but it's fond rather than disparaging.

"Christ, you're really milkin' this, aren't you? S'okay." He hums, hovering over you briefly once more, only for long enough to roll over you and land on his feet beside the bed.

"Alright, head up," He instructs, guiding you to rest your face against his neck as he carries you bridal style into the bathroom, "You're lucky I love you. Pretty sure you can walk, sweet thing. But I'm a gentleman, so I'll carry you."

You want to make a comment about it, something snide like, 'There's nothing gentle about you.'

But there is: his hands carefully support your weight instead of manhandling it around, and his lips puff primly to press against your temple. He's rough around the edges, mean for lack of a better word, but he loves you, so he's gentle.

[ms-demeanor]

On insurance: I still live with my parents and don't know a lot yet about the sorts of things adults usually have to spend money on. I've always been skeptical of things like insurance and credit cards because it seems to me they wouldn't be selling that if they didn't expect to make money from it. I talked to my cousin a while ago about credit cards and basically came to the conclusion that they do that because they're betting on the customer getting sloppy and letting their debts stack up, and the way you beat that and get money from credit card companies is just by being careful.

I'm a little more confused about insurance though because it seems much more straightforwardly like a gamble they will simply not take if it won't pay off for them. Like, you don't go to a casino because every game they play at a casino is one they've done the math on and have determined that statistically most people will lose money on most of the time. Is insurance not kinda the same? Where they estimate the risk and then charge you an amount calculated to make sure it probably won't be worth it for you?

I know if you have a car you legally need car insurance so everyone knows you can pay for another car if you crash into someone, and I gather that here in the US at least health insurance companies have some kinda deal with hospitals so that the prices go down or something, and there's a reason I don't fully understand why not having health insurance is Really Bad. But we get to pet insurance, or like when I buy a concert ticket and it offers ticket insurance in case I can't make it to the show, and surely if they thought they were gonna lose money on that they just wouldn't sell it, right? Or they'd raise the price of it until it became worth the risk that something bad actually will happen? Wouldn't it only be worth it to buy insurance if you know something the insurance company doesn't?

So the deal is that most people don't use their insurance much, and often insurance companies will incentivize doing things that will make you use your insurance less.

So, for example, you can get a discount on car insurance if you have multiple cars because people who insure multiple cars are more likely to be responsible drivers (the ability to pay for multiple cars stands in as a representation of responsibility here). The longer you go without an accident, the lower your premiums get because that means that you are not costing your insurance company anything but you are paying into the system. The car insurance company's goal is to have the most responsible, safest drivers who never get into car accidents because they can predict (roughly) how much they're going to have to pay out to their customers and they want the number they pay out to be lower than what's paid in. So they try to discourage irresponsible drivers by raising their rates and encourage responsible drivers by giving them discounts.

Health insurance companies often do the same thing: I recently got a gift card from my health insurance company because I had a visit from a nurse who interviewed me about my overall health and made sure I had stable blood pressure and access to medications. It is literally cheaper for my insurance company to give me a $100 giftcard and hire a nurse to visit me than it is for me to go to my doctor's office a couple of times, so they try to make sure that their customers are getting preventative care and are seeing inexpensive medical professionals regularly so that they don't have to suddenly see very expensive professionals after a long time without care.

Insurance in the US has many, many, many problems and should be replaced with socialized healthcare for a huge number of reasons but right now, because it is an insurance-based system, you need to have insurance.

We're going to use Large Bastard as an example.

Large Bastard had insurance when he had his heart attack and when he needed multiple organs transplanted. He didn't *want* to be paying for insurance, because he thought he was healthy enough to get by, but I insisted. His premium is four hundred dollars a month, and his out of pocket maximum is eight thousand dollars a year. That means that every year, he pays about $5000 whether he uses his insurance or not, and if he DOES need to use the insurance, he pays the first $8k worth of care, so every year his insurance has the possibility of costing him thirteen thousand dollars.

The bill for his bypass surgery was a quarter million dollars.

The bill for his transplant was over one and a half million dollars.

His medication each month is around six hundred dollars. He needs to have multiple biopsies - which are surgeries - each year, and each one costs about twenty thousand dollars.

Without health insurance, he would very likely be dead, or we would be *even more* incapable of paying for his healthcare than we are right now. He almost ditched his insurance because he was a healthy-seeming 40-year-old and he didn't think he'd get sick. And then he proceeded to be the sickest human being I've ever known personally who did not actually die.

Health insurance costs a lot of money. It costs less money for people who are young and who are expected to be healthy. But the thing is, everybody pays into health insurance, and very, very few people end up using as much money for their medical expenses as Large Bastard did. There are a few thousand transplants in the US ever year, but there are hundreds of millions of people paying for insurance.

This ends up balancing out (sort of) so that people who pay for insurance get a much lower cost on care if they need it, hospitals get paid for the care they provide, and the insurance company makes enough money to continue to exist. Part of the reason that people don't like this scheme is because "insurance company" could feasibly be replaced by "government" and it would cost less and provide a better standard of care, but again, with things as they are now, you need to have insurance. Insurance companies are large entities that are able to negotiate down costs with the providers they work with, you are not. If you get hit by a car you may be able to get your medical bills significantly reduced through a number of means, but you're very unlikely to get your bills lower than the cost of insurance and a copay.

Because of the Affordable Care Act, which is flawed but which did a LOT of good, medical insurance companies cannot refuse to treat you because of preexisting conditions and also cannot jack up your premiums to intolerable rates - since Large Bastard got sick, he has had the standard price increases you'd expect from aging, but nothing like the gouging you might expect from an insurance company deciding you're not worth it.

Pet insurance works on the same model. Millions of people pay for the insurance, thousands of people end up needing it, a few hundred end up needing a LOT of it, and the insurance companies are able to make more money than they hand out, so they continue to exist. This is part of why it's less expensive to get pet insurance for younger animals - people who sign up puppies and kittens are likely to be paying for a very long time and are likely to provide a lot of preventative care for their animals, so they're a good bet for the insurer. Animals signed up when they are older are more likely to have health problems (and pet insurance CAN turn animals away for preexisting conditions) and are going to cost the insurance companies more, so they cost more to enroll (and animals over a certain age or with certain conditions may be denied entirely).

This weighing risk/reward is called actuarial science, and the insurance industry is built on it.

But yeah it's kind of betting. The insurance company says "I'll insure ten thousand dogs and I'm going to bet that only a hundred of them will need surgery at some point in the next year" and if they're correct, they make money and the dogs who need surgery get their surgery paid for out of the premiums from the nine thousand nine hundred dogs who didn't need surgery.

Your assessment of credit is correct: credit card companies expect that you will end up carrying a balance, and that balance will accrue interest, and the interest is how they make the money.

And it is EASY to fuck up financially as an adult. REALLY EASY. But you are still likely to need a good credit score so you will need a credit history. That means that the correct way to use a credit card is to have a card, but not carry a balance.

To do this, never buy anything on the card that you can't afford. In order to avoid needing the card for emergencies, start an emergency fund that is at least 3 months of your total pay *before* you get a credit card. That seems like a *lot* of savings to have, but from the perspective of someone who has had plenty of mess-ups, it's a lot easier to build up a $10k emergency fund than it is to pay off a $10k credit card debt.

If you don't understand how interest works on credit cards, or why a 10k savings is different than a 10k debt, here are some examples working with $10k of debt, 23% interest (an average-ish rate for people with average credit), and various payments.

With that debt and that interest, here's how much it costs and how long it would take to pay off with $200 as the monthly payment:

Fourteen years, and it would cost you about twenty four thousand dollars in interest, for a total amount paid of about thirty four thousand dollars.

To save $10k at $200 a month would take four years and two months.

Here's the same debt at $300 a month:

4.5 Years and it costs about six grand (again, just in interest - sixteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at three hundred dollars a month would take just under three years.

Here's the same debt at $400 a month:

3 years, about $4000 dollars (fourteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at $400 a month takes just over two years.

The thing is, with all of these models you're going to end up paying one way or another. Insurance vs out of pocket is you weighing the risk of losing a fair amount of money by signing up but not using the system, or potentially losing a catastrophic amount of money by not signing up.

For credit cards they really only work if you know you're never going to need them for an emergency, because an emergency is what you're not going to be able to pay off right away. I didn't have an emergency fund when Large Bastard had his heart attack and needed surgery, or when we moved between states suddenly, or when we moved between states suddenly AGAIN and needed to pay storage costs, or when Large Bastard needed a transplant, or when Tiny Bastard got in a fight with my MiL's dog, and the fact that I didn't have an emergency fund is still costing me a lot of money.

So, young folks out there: what's the takeaway?

Get insurance. Get the best deal possible, which usually ends up being the one you sign up for early. You may think you can let it ride without insurance, but man in the six months between when I graduate college (and lost my school insurance) and when care kicked in after 90 days at my job I got electrocuted and needed to go to the ER. If that hadn't been a worker's comp payout I would have had thousands of dollars in bills. Something could happen. You could break your leg, you could get hit by a car, you could suddenly find out that you actually have heart disease at twenty, you could develop cancer. Have insurance, you need insurance. You legally need car insurance in the US, and you financially need health insurance. If you have a pet, I think it's a good idea for them to have pet insurance.

Credit cards are not for emergencies, they are not for fun, they are not for buying things that are just ever so slightly out of your budget, they are for taking advantage of the credit card company and managing to get by in a system that demands you have a credit score. ONLY put purchases on your credit card that you already have cash for. Before you get a credit card, build up an emergency savings so that you aren't tempted to put emergency charges on your card.

If you DO end up with an interest-bearing debt, pay it off as fast as possible because letting it linger costs you a LOT of money in the long run.

Stay the fuck away from tobacco and nicotine products they are fucking terrible for you, they are fucking expensive, and they are not worth it put the vapes down put the zyns down put the cigarettes down I will begin manifesting in your house physically i swear to fuck. Knock that shit off and put the cash that you'd be spending on nicotine into a savings account.

Take care, sorry everything sucks, I promise that in some ways it actually sucks less than it did before and we're working on trying to make it suck even less but it's taking a while.

[elixrr]

the fall to rock bottom is a long way from here. he sits, contemplating. loving you was hardly a mistake— he loves you, he'll keep loving you, and he'll never regret it. you're the mountain that keeps him from falling back down; you're the steps on a ladder that keep him from tumbling down to the floor.

needless to say, you make him happy.

it was hard for him to realize at first, but when he did, he could never forget. you're a song in his head that he can't get out, but now he doesn't want it to ever stop playing. he stares at your face as you rest in your shared bed. you're beautiful, he thinks. you're in perfect peace. he's in perfect peace, too, all thanks to you. his eyes trail to your lips. it looks like you're smiling. it's subtle—it's quiet, but it's sweet. you're sweet. originally, he would've hated it, but the sugar—your sugar—is far more addicting than he anticipated.

he smiles at your smile. you're still asleep, but you're probably having a nice dream right now. it's early, and he doesn't have a real reason to be awake right now. the only thing keeping him up is how perfect you look with the dim lamp on. actually, even if the lights were off, you'd still be gorgeous.

he looks at the clock. it's 04:27. he looks over at the window, and through the subtly translucent fabric of the curtains, he sees the faint glimmer of the moonlight. he should probably be asleep, but he doesn't really care much about that. he doesn't have anything to do today, and he'd probably wake up thirty minutes after falling asleep, and then he'd do the exact same thing that he's doing right now: admiring you.

he sighs, reaching over to the nightstand and turning the lamp off. the moonlight passes through the curtain and rests on the carpet by the windows. it reflects from the carpet and onto him, illuminating his skin.

you secretly open your eyes. he's beautiful.

he sits and stares at his blanket-covered legs. he glances over at you, not realizing that you're awake. he smiles a little more. the fall to rock bottom is so far now, and he finally accepts the fact that he's never going back down. not alone. not without you reaching out for him.

he glances at you and admits to himself,

“I'm so glad that we're here. together.”

he shifts downwards and rests his head on the pillow, facing you with a yawn. his entire body sinks into comfort, and he gazes back at you. your eyes are finally open wide, and you're smiling really hard at him.

“I know, right? ”

he screams at you, jolting up, and he falls off of the bed.

ps: he makes sure that you're asleep every time he does this now (he stopped doing the monologuing for like a good month afterwards)

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[bbluefllame]

hcs on how I think mha characters sleep

contains: pure silly stupidness

characters: tomura shigaraki, touya todoroki, keigo takami, izuku midoriya, toga himiko, plus one katsuki hc😭

note: LISTEN GANG I WAS SLEEPY BUT I COULDNT SKEEP SO I WAS LIKE OH EM GEE!!! keigo's went out of hand 😔😔😔

tomura shigaraki

- he usually sleeps in his normal attire, he has no energy to get up and change

- sleeps 4 hrs MAX

- his thumbs are always I mean always are covered by the rest of his fingers tightly, he probably decays mattresses every couple of months by accident

- either super light sleeper or super heavy no in-between, probably doesn't even sleep most of the time

- there's no pre-sleep routine. mf just plops down into the bed and blacks out OR he sleeps in his gaming chair😭

- if you're sleeping next to him, he would make sure he's facing the opposite side with his hands dangling at the edge of the bed just to make sure nothing happens to you.

- one thing that makes him black out is playing with his hair, like blackout like snore mimimimi type shit

- he's so still in his sleep, barely moves to the point you might think he's dead if he wasn't breathing‼️

- Overall he'd be a pretty good person to sleep next to (if he even sleeps) just make sure he doesn't have nightmares or everything is done and dusted (literally)

touya todoroki

- he either sleeps naked or something that can't snag on the staples/ irritate his scars (probably naked bcs have you seen his room?? ITS EMPTY EMPTY THERES NOTHING BESIDES HIS USUAL CLOTHES)

- I give him 5-6 hrs maybe then he wakes up but on nights where he's in too much pain, he takes a shit ton of painkillers and tries to sleep just to wake up 2 hrs later

-biggest snorer out there, complete opposite of tomura. esp w those lungs of his omg.

- you could be sleeping and BOOM 🚉 SNOREEEEEE HONKKKK you need earplugs with him, then he wakes up and goes "I don't snore, fuck you mean??"

- he tosses and turns 24/7 also he will 100% steal the blanket and kick you off, at this point it'd be more comfortable to sleep on the ground than to sleep next to him

- yk those videos where it's like someone tweaking while sleeping, like they roll around steal blankets and kick and stuff and do the craziest shit, yeah that's touya

- idk if he has a pre sleep routine I'm leaning towards it depends? he usually just makes sure his scars are clean so he doesn't get an infection and yk die!

- I conclude, a horrible person to sleep next to. Would much rather kms than tolerate a night of his torture!

keigo takami

- this bitch has 2 options, blackout the second he gets home in his hero attire, or if it's a day where he has to recover from an injury or something, these specific navy blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt

- depends on the day he's sleeping either 3 hrs or 9 hrs

- he doesn't snore but he talks in his sleep about the weirdest shit ever "noooo pls don't put me in the airfryer" he 100% has the weirdest fucking dreams to ever exist

- he never sleeps on his back, literally always on his stomach so his wings don't get in the way

- also on the topic of his wings, during said weird dreams if he's running away or something they start flapping and shit😭 it'd be so annoying to sleep next to him

- he sleepwalks 100% you look at that face and tell me he DOESNT?? he's a really light sleeper as well esp for nights where he might be called in

- definitely has a pre sleep routine (if he doesn't immediately blackout) ESP if you're living tg oh em gee, he'd have a longer skincare routine than you (tbf the skincare routine is kind of obligation from him to appeal to the civilians nd shit)

- he'd have a headband on his head pushing his hair back, washing his face, using a toner etcetera, and then going "baaaaaabeeee where'd you put my cosrx snail mucin, I know you used it" and he'd be all sassy and shit (twink cough cough sorry)

- if he's having a calm day, he's being the clingiest cutest little shit, you wanna go to eat? "nooo 5 minutes" . You wanna go to the bathroom? "Ugh be quick" while he's guarding the door waiting to tackle you and drag you back to bed. He's such a little (loving) shit

- he just lays there on top of you not willing to let go with a serene expression on his face, those days are rare though (fuck the commission 😠)

- random but he has some of the worst bed head you could ever see

- overall, kind of annoying to sleep next to (funny as well) but for him, who wouldn't tolerate it 🙏🏼

izuku midoriya

- before OFA bro used to get no sleep he'd have the most fucked up sleep schedule to ever exist ‼️‼️ like during weekends no sleep at all just staying up analyzing new heroes

- w OFA he's sleeping healthily or too much with the amount of energy he uses ESP in the first seasons when he breaks his bones a shit ton

- HIS SLEEP WEAR LMAOAOA funniest thing I've seen i don't have to say anything abt it 😭 a fucking shirt w " t-shirt" on it or sumn

- doesn't snore but moves a lot, and not even kicking?? just flipping side to side or clutching the blanket like he's a woman clutching her purse in the 1800s (no one's taking it from you calm down lil bro)

- occasionally he might talk but it's like 2 words then he flips to the other side

- no pre-sleep routine but that's bc he doesn't need one, his pre-sleep routine is studying or training, BUT bro has to be like wrapping his arms and hands at night or something bcs he's in pain (his arms are fucked up there's no way he doesn't have chronic pain)

- if you're forced to sleep next to each other (insert ur own fanfic idea of why) he would be so tense he'd have his hands by his side tryna not sleep so he doesn't annoy you, at this point, you'd be annoyed by how tense he is

- he's not a bad person to sleep next to tbf, just like he might be kinda annoying that's it

Toga Himiko

- she has pink pj's and everything she's such a cutie (some have blood on them but whoops accident!)

- she sleeps with plushies (her room is adorable. search it up pleek‼️), changes the plushie every night so "every single one of them feels loved"

- she sleeps pretty healthily although on the low side 6-7 hrs prolly, she's told by compress "You're a growing girl, you need your sleep" or something similar when she wakes up too early

- she's more giggles in her sleep rather than anything, maybe whispers a name then goes teehehehe, she's pretty calm in her sleep honestly

- she has a pre-sleep routine and it's adorable, if it's in the broke era she steals face masks (specifically hello kitty ones), moisturizers, toners, face washes and skips back to the base with a smile on her face

- has 100% forced a couple of the league members to use the face masks

- has music blasting (for some reason I see her playing like a g6 and bopping her head while putting stuff on) at 10 pm, she 100% has been forced to turn it off bcs it woke everyone up

- she's such a cuddly person as well but in the best way possible, before sleeping though 100% there's gonna be gossiping or just yapping tg

overall my favorite !! silliest girl to ever exist I luv her

bonus katsuki

- bro sleeps like a Victorian child dying from the plague, waiting for a true loves kiss type shit you'd see him and go "wtf okay disney princess😟"

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[honeybeedewdrops]

Photo Gone Wrong | L.Norris

Summary: McLaren ask Y/N to take a picture of Lando and Oscar holding their first and third place trophy. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mention of a bloody nose

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The McLaren garage was the place to be after the Singapore Grand Prix. "Y/N" Someone called as you walk out of the garage. You stop and see one of the social media managers calling you over, Oscar and Lando close by her side.

"hey what's up" you say walking over to them. "Would you be able to take a picture of the boys holding their trophies for the McLaren socials." You nod and start to get your camera out. "Sure any particular way" You ask. "yeah were thinking like this one" the social media managers says getting out her phone and showing you a picture the boys had taken a few weeks ago.

"oh uh ok" you says not so sure about this picture many things could go wrong. "What? What's wrong you seem hesitant" the social media manager asks "I just what if one of them drop the trophy and break my camera or worse me" you state "come on Y/n don't you trust us" Lando says "You not so much. Oscar he's fine" Lando rolls his eyes. "Come on Y/n" Lando begs "i'll make sure he doesn't so anything" Oscar says "fine" you agree. You get down on the ground and point your camera up "Ok lean in" you say. Lando grips his trophy and nearly drops it causing you to squeal and turn away. Lando started laughing, "Lando" you complain "alright alright i'm serious" he says as the two lean in.

You snap a couple photos and before anyone could react Lando had dropped his trophy. He scrambled to catch it but even with his fast reflexes it was too late. The trophy came to a crash against your face the end hitting just perfectly in between your camera and cheek hitting your nose full on. You toss your camera aside not caring about it and sitting up grabbing your nose, crying out in pain. Blood started to gush out. "Oh my gosh Y/n I am so sorry I didn't mean it" Lando panicked. "I think, I think you broke my nose" you says as tears started to pool and fall. "We need a medic" Lando calls and Oscar takes off towards the medical center at least that's where you hopped he was going. "I am so sorry. what can I do?" Lando asks "Can you maybe get me a towel or something?" you ask holding your bloody nose that was really hurting. Lando looks around and spots a bag a few meters away he opens it and hands you a shirt. A crowd started to form and you started to get embarrassed. You tried not to put too much pressure as if you did it hurt.

A few minutes later Oscar came rushing over a few of the medical team right behind him. At that point your hands and the t-shirt you had were covered in blood. "Hey can you tell me your name" one Medic asks "Y/n" she says as the medic takes the cloth away. "ok that looks pretty bad" He says going into his bag and removing the t-shirt the medic poked around your nose making you flinch any time he'd touch a tender spot. "I'm sorry" he'd say.

Once the medic was finished he handed you some tissues to catch the blood. "Ok now we are going to get you onto the stretcher and get you down to the center" you nod as the three medics helped you up and then onto the stretcher. Lando walked up to you "Y/n i am so sorry" Lando apologies once again. "It's fine Lando I'll be fine" you said as they wheeled you away Lando following close behind.

They get to the medical center where you are put on some heavy medication to help with the pain as well as a blood thinner to help with stopping the bleeding. "Y/n we are going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out and make sure it's not a serious break from the looks of it you'll be fine will just have to wear a splint for about 2 weeks" "ooookkkk" you nod lazily the pain meds really doing some work.

The medic leaves to get the ambulance ready. "Sorry about your shirt" you said holding out the bloody McLaren shirt. "It's ok it's not even mine" he said pushing it back into your lap "oh good" you say and closes your eyes. "Y/n" Lando says "mmhm" "I am so sorry" you groaned tired of hearing him apologise "ugh stop apologising" "I can't help it. I feel really bad" you sighs "I'll be fine Lando" the medic comes back and start loading you into the van. Lando once again by your side. In the ambulance the bleeding had finally stopped and your nose was really swollen and starting to bruise.

Once at the hospital the doctor did confirm you had a broken nose but it wasn't severe enough that you needed surgery just needed to set it back and keep a splint on for 2 weeks.

Lando was very sweet the entire time, he waited the entire time. Even after you begged him to leave to celebrate his win with the team he didn't.

Luckily for you there was a 3 week break in between Singapore and Austin. When the Austin race did roll around you didn't have to wear a splint anymore and the swelling had gone so now it was just really bruised, but many still asked what had happened.