#crawls back to homework ]

[cochidinh]

[lukesunbornn]

today’s aesthetic: reading the communist manifesto & dubois’s black reconstruction while blasting first love/late spring on loop in my headphones trying not to glare at my best friend who still won’t tell me if he loves me

[katsukilvr]

everyone else thought you and katsuki bakugo were dating except you guys ༄ fluff, oblivious bakugo and reader, swearing, slight angst, kinda corny lol

you were a staple in katsuki bakugo’s life.

your moms were bestfriends, and they had you both at relatively the same time so you were there before he built his walls, before his ego skyrocketed, before his quirk developed, and you became as natural as the hair on his head and the explosions from his hands.

he learnt to respect you. to treat you with kindness cause when he eventually did test you in middle school, he learned how it felt to not be in your presence for once.

safe to say it was hell.

he had yelled at you, he had a bad day, his friends bothering him, drowning in homework, and training for the entrance exam when he snapped at you and dismissed you away like he did with his usual friends that just followed him around like little puppies.

he quickly learned that you weren’t gonna beg for his forgiveness like the others.

you went distant after that. you didn’t reach out, didn’t say hello the sing-songy way you did every time you saw him, didn’t come over, and suddenly his heart ached. he didn’t know why. it was a strange and unknown feeling and all he knew was your absence was causing this emotion. this weird, yearning emotion, and he knew he’d do anything to get rid of it and get back the bubbly girl he knew.

he came to this realization at 8PM. it was raining. he didn’t care. you guys were neighbors anyway. he quickly threw on a jacket, putting on his hoodie and shoes, running over to your two story house. your bedroom was on the second story but it had a tree next to your window and he often scaled it to hang out or sneak you out, except this time he didn’t like the reason he was climbing it. he got cuts on his hands, almost slipping and falling two stories as he managed to reach your window, tapping on the glass lightly as he peered inside.

“cmon y/n. open up.” he called out, tapping a little harder before you came to the window, opening it up.

“what do you want?” you said, your once warm and gentle voice now cold and distant while you crossed your arms, a displeased and annoyed expression on your face.

“please.. just let me in.. and hear me out.” he said gruffly, already climbing inside, knowing you’d let him in anyway. “i was.. i was being an asshole. i’m sorry. you don’t have to forgive me, but—i miss you goddamnit and i don’t like not being with you everyday.” he muttered, the words feeling weird on his tongue. he’d never apologized to anybody else other than his mother and it was a rather foreign feeling, but he’d say and do anything to get you back.

you stayed silent, contemplating as you looked up at him. you knew how hard it was for him to apologize, let alone come here and speak to you instead of letting you crawl back to him. you just sighed, pulling him in for a hug, immediately getting wet from his soaked clothes.

he let out air he didn’t know he was holding, a sigh of relief, his hand immediately finding a place in your hair, his arms wrapped around you. god knows how good it felt to have you there, in his arms, with him like you should be.

after that day, he never disrespected you again.

he never realized what that feeling was, what love was, because yeah, he loved his mom, he loved his dad, but it was an entirely different feeling with you that he didn’t recognize.

additionally, he always thought romance were silly. he never understood romcoms, shipping in shows, soulmates, stories about ‘the one’, and so and so forth. it was always his one and only goal. being the number one hero. so he convinced himself, over and over again, that love wasn’t for him, that it was a distraction, an obstacle that would try to take him down. completely oblivious to his love in front of him all his life.

the years that followed, he’d grown more, emotionally, physically, and maturely too. he was still loud, rude, ill mannered, but he recognized how his words and actions affected others, partly due to you as well. you were the only one that could keep him in line while at UA.

of course, all you friends noticed that too. they noticed when he’d hold the door open for you without you asking. when you were the only person he’d walk to class with. when you’d always partner together during class projects. and when the dorms were enforced, he even requested to be next to you, like how your houses were next to each other. it was rare to see him in his own dorm, since he was always in yours, even if you weren’t in it, he just enjoyed being there.

so it was a shock when you told mina that no, you weren’t dating, and no, you hadn’t put him under a love spell like that girl from descendants.

“he is SO in love with you, y/n, how do you not see it?” she cried, giggling a bit as she laid down on your bed as you guys gossiped. it was a rainy night, katsuki was training in the gym, the one time he’s not glued to your hip. so you, mina, and jirou all had a girls night in. you guys talked, watched movies, and ate food. somehow you guys got to the topic of guys when mina asked you how long you and katsuki had been together.

you were immediately confused. “together? what do you mean?” you laughed, looking at the both of them look at each other. “how long have you been dating?” jirou repeated mina’s question.

“we’re not dating.”

they both gasped, “what do you mean your not dating? he’s SO nice to you.” mina exclaimed, giggling as she moved to lay on her stomach, her head resting on her hands. “yeah, he scowled at me and gave me a dirty look today just for laughing too loud and you tease and make fun of him and get nothing but a lil’ smile.” jirou said and laughed, rolling her eyes.

“well that’s just how he usually acts” you murmured, thinking back to the years before, “do you think he likes me?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows.

mina and jirou face palm, “girl.. yes.” they laughed and shook their head.

that’s when they all heard keys jangling and the lock unlocking (yeah he has a key to your dorm, and you have a key to his). “y/n, where’s my copy of—..” he said before being met with the stares of the three girls. he furrowed his brows, a strange look on his face, giving them only a nod as a hello as he moved to search through her drawers for a copy of NANA that he let you borrow.

the girls giggled behind him, mouthing “speak of the devil” and wiggling their eyebrows. you just rolled your eyes, dismissing them.

they both left quickly after with their own excuses, leaving you and katsuki alone. he finally found his copy, moving to your bed and plopping down next to you. “what was that about?” he said, opening up the manga. you rested your legs on his, and he started to trace his fingers up and down them as he read. “oh.. uh nothing. just a girls day.” you said, picking up your phone. you didn’t know why, but you’d gotten goosebumps. you never got goosebumps when katsuki touched you. or got close to you. damnit mina, why’d you get in my head? did katsuki like you? or was this normal between the two of you?

thoughts like that raced through your mind for the next few days.

you saw him in a new light, a beautiful.. handsome, kind of light.

every gruff “this reminded me of you”, everytime he came over, every time you guys went out to eat, or when he’d buy you those shoes you wanted in an instant, had your heart fluttering more often and he sensed this change, while he didn’t know it was you slowly catching feelings for him, he thought he did something wrong, and he went to his best friend (besides you).

he was pacing around in kirishimas room, running a hand through his hair as he ran through the reasons he could have pissed you off. it’s not like you’ve been distant but everytime he’d do something nice, you acted different and had him overthinking. A LOT.

“shit. i don’t know what i could’ve done to tick her off man, i dunno.” he grumbled, sitting down on the edge of kirishimas bed. “why don’t you just talk to her, man?” kirishima said, furrowing his brow as he organized stuff in his room. “it shouldn’t be hard to talk to your girlfriend, man, me n mina talk about our feelings all the time.” he explained further, glancing at his distressed friend when he suddenly looked up at kirishima. “girlfriend? she’s not my girlfriend idiot.” he grumbled, his head still in his hands. kirishimas eyes widened quickly, before returning to normal. he paused his task, sitting next to katsuki.

“she’s not?”

“no.” katsuki mumbled, his distress turning into confusion. “what makes you think that?” he said, scowling at kirishima.

“you treat her like royalty, man, you look at her like she hung the moon.” kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “you treat her better than most guys treat their wives.” he said, looking at the floor.

“well.. that’s just.. i don’t know. i’m used to it. she deserves it, yknow?” bakugo muttered out, sort of speechless. “i’ve treated her like that since we were in diapers, kiri.” he scoffed, running his hands through his hair. “well why?” his friend said, looking at bakugo. “well this one time, we got into a fight, a while back, and she didn’t talk to me for a fucking week.” he said gruffly, almost paining him to even think about that event. “it was horrible, i would’ve done anything for her back.. that’s when i knew i couldn’t lose her again.” he said, shaking his head, meeting his friends eyes.

“is it possible you like her?”

bakugo furrowed his eyebrows, slowly connecting the dots. like her? he scoffed, thinking about it for a second.

“i mean.. i love mina. i’d do anything for her, genuinely. she’s my world. it was love at first sight, bro. i think she’s the one.” kirishima said and laughed softly, shaking his head, “like my safe space. i wanna be with her all the time, yknow?” he explained further, “do you feel that way about y/n?” he asked, glancing towards bakugo.

oh.

he was silent. putting together the dots, connecting the puzzle pieces. he considered himself smart. he always did. but how could he be this dumb? this oblivious? he always felt that way towards you.

he nodded, sighing as he stood up. “i gotta go.” he grumbled, grabbing his bag and waving bye to his friend. he practically ran to his dorm, needing space. needing time to think.

should he push this feeling away? would it affect his career? many pro heroes have wives.. but all might didn’t, and he was the greatest. what would he even do about this? he didn’t know jack about romance. and did you even like him back?

that question stilled his spiraling mind.

did you like him back?

how could he know? your bubbly with everyone, too fucking chatty with icy-hot. you give that stupid beautiful smile to every stranger that passes and you ramble to anybody that would listen… was he as special to you as you were to him?

this had him faltering in classes, in training. he could not take his mind off it. off you. he over analyzed everything. every smile, every touch, every word that hung off your lips had captivated him.

he was tired of this. he didn’t wanna keep worrying. he didn’t wanna overthink for days. he was gonna ask you out. he was katsuki bakugo, goddamnit. he already knew what you liked, what flowers were your favorite, your favorite color, places that’d take your breath away, etc. he had planned the dream date, so why was he so nervous?

he ended up coming over, asking to hangout. you guys normally did, but he was extra jittery, extra sweaty, more than he usually was, which is a lot coming from him since his quirk was basically sweating. he stuttered more, was silent more which made you confused, suspicious even. mina had told you to get pretty today, have your nails done, your hair done, so you were already on edge.

either way, you had a great time, you laughed a lot, fleeting touches made you flustered, and butterflies stirred in your stomach. by the end of the night, he took you by a lake next to the school and you squinted at something you saw in the distance.

were those candles? a picnic blanket? a basket?

“kats? what’s that? do you see it?” you laughed, wondering why you guys were walking there. until it clicked, it was for you. you blushed lightly, looking around at what he set up. he had your favorite flowers, chocolates, new shoes, and food.

he was behind you when he spoke up, clearing his throat. “i.. uh.. this is for you.” he grumbled lowly. “i’ve liked you for a while, y/n.” he said, laughing nervously. “your fuckin’ beautiful, and funny, and i’d do anything for you.” he said, taking a step closer, looking down at you.

butterflies swarmed in your stomach, you were suddenly nervous and laughing, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he murmured, cupping your face in his hand. this was out of character for him. he didn’t know what he was doing, he hoped his hand wasn’t too sweaty, he hoped you didn’t notice his hand shaking, or his heart pounding in his chest.

you nodded, “yes.” you smiled softly, stepping closer and when you said yes, it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. he leaned in closer, not wanting to make you uncomfortable he spoke up, “can i kiss you?” he said, letting out a small chuckle. you nodded and he leaned in, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well as you kissed. you both were inexperienced, but you didn’t care because it felt right. it felt right to hold him closer, to rake your hand through his hair, to kiss until you ran out of breath and when you did, he whispered something against your lips.

“i cant believe i waited this long to make you mine.”

[dmitriene]

cw: no smut, just mention of being hard.

young single mom reader and police officer john price, being the one to raise the baby boy that just gone to his third grade is tough, really so, try to have time to work and at the same time be the one who will pick him up from school, feed him and help him with his homework is getting up to you and your nerves, especially when you get a call from the school, saying that your baby boy gone missing.

you don't remember how you've made it to the school, a veil of salty tears blurring your vision as his class teacher and the principal try to reassure you that police patrol is already checking all the area around, that he's a smart boy, and possibly didn't wandered too far away, cameras catched that he sneaked away all alone, not kidnapped or worse, so you only pray that they will find him quick and safe.

the police car gets parked by the schools gates just short of a time, doors opening, and the first thing you see is your precious son seated on the elbow of the officer, a small, bright colored bouquet of flowers in his little hand, and he smiles wide and crook toothed when he notices you, getting lowered on his feet to run up in your wide spreading hands, a joyful sound of his voice calling you mom making you tear even more.

then you see him, officer john price, as his badge says, pinned right against the fabric of his what seems perfectly tailored uniform, sure, it's probably not made to directly complim his features, but the sinewy bulk of his body is hugged tight, adding to the seriousness of his profession, if not the softened, compassionate crinkle of his pale, icy blues that look down at your shaking, crouching form, his silver graying mutton chops beard getting raised up to fit the tentative, gentle smile stretching on his lips.

you don't have enough words to describe all your gratefulness, voice tear chocked, stammering, as you hug your boy closer, asking him why would he run away, and the admission puts you down even harsher than the weight of the stone, that he wanted to buy you something nice, what would make you happy, because you're so often sad and tired, and he wanted it to be a surprise, and then that nice officer helped him pick a bouquet for you, even payed for it.

john doesn't needs anything from you, voice a low, smoke gravelled murmur, he just does his job, and no one is here to blame you for what happened, especially not price, not when the sight of your eyes, shimmering with clear innocence and tears, doe wide, looking at him from beneath as you and your sweet boy thank him politely, make him readjust his spread legs stance, adjusting to the growing warmth in his pants, a simmering something, hungry to the point of salivating, crawling up his spine.

the knowledge that there's such a poor, sweet single bird with no one behind her, except of her baby boy, is enough for him, and perhaps he'd pay you a visit along the week, just to make sure if you need anyone to help, after he'd drive you both to your apartment, give the small of your back a comforting pat, see how you lean into the touch subconsciously, starved, and like the man that promised to take care of every civilian, he'd come back, for sure now.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[nanamisgirly]

pussy slapping with your maths teacherྀི

based on this ask (I hope the anon will like it🙂‍↕️)

next part

you knew the email meant trouble the second it landed in your inbox.

subject : “Homework 6 — Integrity Dicussion.” from : Gojo.Satoru@college.ct

so now you're standing outside his office door, palms sweating, thighs pressed together in your miniskirt like that might save you from the cheating homework you assigned. it's not like you're scared of Gojo. he's just your goofy annoyingly attractive nerd math professor. the man wears Gundam socks with his loafers, makes calculus puns, and has a signed photo of Neil deGrasse Tyson on his bookshelf like it's a family heirloom.

but he also happens to have shoulders like a swimmer, hands big enough to palm a basketball, and a mouth made for sin that he hides behind dump jokes with his stupidly slutty glasses. you're not into him or anything tho, you're just not blind.

your knuckles tap against the door.

“come in,” he calls, voice low. too low��actually.

you step in, closing the door behind you. 

the first thing you see are the posters of fractals and famous math equations—not surprising. in the other hand, what is really surprising is the life-size cardboard cutout of the pokémon Blastoise. what the fuck is that?

your surprise doesn't stop there, as your eyes land on the chunky old Casio calculator sitting on his desk next to a mug that says, “i'm a cute professor <3”.

he's seated at his desk, glasses on, sleeves rolled to the elbows showing strong forearms scribbled in veins, one ankle resting over the opposite knee like he's got all the time in the world. a lopsided smile appears as he asks “you're nervous ?”

you scoff, clutching your handbag a little tighter. “i'm not.” he's the one to talk—how would anyone look comfortable in a office looking like this?

“mmh. tell yourself that.” he leans, pulls open a drawer and slides out your homework. he taps the edge the paper as he hold it in the air. “you handed your homework last week. and you scored…a beautiful 97.” he tilts his head, gauging your reaction. 

you're feeling a bit too hot now, sweats trickling down your spine, but you try to hold it together. you feign innocence, “yeah, incredible isn't it?” you say, rolling your eyes to play it cool.

he hums thoughtfully. “sure… if you hadn't cheated.”

you swallow, crossing your arms as you cock a hip “a girl scores high and suddenly some old grump of a man's offended by it. what a world we live in.”

gojo leans back in his chair, gaze sliding over your form—lingering a bit too long on your thighs. “is that how it is?" he hums, eyes flicking up to meet yours "just a bitter old man then?” the corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying not to grin 

he clicks his tongue and leans back further, arms spreading across the armchair like he owns the place. he does, actually. his knees spread too—annoyingly wide, “look, we both know you didn't do these problems yourself. and you're gonna redo it. right here. right now. on me.” 

your lips part. “gojo—”

“professor gojo,” he corrects, tone maddeningly even. “you don't want me to call the Academic Integrity Committee, do you?”

you glance down at his thighs, then back up. “you're a math professor. Not my—”

“—brat tamer?” he cuts in smoothly, raising a brow without blinking.

you go still. your jaw clenches, heat crawling up the back of your neck. he's so smug. smug and patient and infuriatingly unfazed.

you step forward and settle on his lap—hovering, refusing to fully sit. if he thinks you're gonna give in that easily, he's dead wrong. you don't care if your thighs start shaking. you'll squat until the apocalypse if you have to.

“ah—!” a squeal rips out of you when his hands clamp around your hips, big and warm and decidedly firm as he drags you down until you're fully seated, straddling his lap. your miniskirt hikes up dangerously high in the process, your bare thighs pressed tight to his slacks.

his breath hitches, almost imperceptibly. you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't so hyper-aware of every single shift in the room.

“problem one,” he says, casually putting your paper on the desk like he isn't now rock-hard beneath you like a complete weirdo. his hands stay planted on your thighs, thumbs stroking idly, but his voice stays cold. unbothered, professional almost.

keyword : almost.

you swallow hard, cheeks burning from the sheer proximity—his firm chest pressed to your back, white fluffy hair brushing every time he leans in. his scent clings to your skin—clean linen, cologne, and chalk dust—it's driving you insane. and those damn impossible formulas staring up at you on the paper—differential equations, matrix exponentials, fucking laplace transforms. couldn't he have picked basic calculus ?

your brain is short-circuiting. and the little laughs of the far-too-good-looking-with-his-glasses-pushed-low-on-his-nose professor is doing nothing to ease your nerves. “solve the matrix for the homogeneous system.” your spine stiffens as his voice is nothing but hot air dragging goosebumps up your neck.

“c'mon, engineer girl. use that big brain of yours.” you let out a shaky exhale, trying to focus on the paper even while his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. he hasn't even really touched you, but you're feeling your panties clinging to you—embarrassingly wet.

“one over s-squared plus four?” you try something, mind too fuzzy to think. your breath catches as his fingertips trace your clothed slit—oh very so slowly. he doesn't bother pressing, just lets the fabric catch and soak even more.

“gojo, what are you—”

“professor,” he reminds you, tone suddenly sharp. “and…” he's turning his head, cheek brushing yours as he watches your teeth dig in your bottom lip “no guessing.” you shudder, thighs trembling on his thick one.

that’s ridiculous how sensitive you were from featherlight touches…you’re better than that..so why are your wetting your thighs by seconds ?

“from now on,” his fingers slip beneath the damp lace, two digits brushing your folds, “you get every problem right, you're so good at pretending to be smart—but be smart.” his hand curls back up—cupping your pussy, applying steady pressure to your aching clit through the underwear. your thighs squeeze together instinctively, the heat unbearable.

you stare at the same problem, chest rising and falling in heavy breath. “a-a inverse time b—?” you offer weakly.

a low, pitying sound escapes him.

smack.

“wrong again.” the sudden sharp slap on your cunt makes your entire body jolts in his lap, your ass pressing harder against his cock. your head drops forward, tears prickling your lashes, hips twitching in a pathetic attempt at friction.

it"s so humiliating. that nerd of a teacher. fuck.

“uh-huh, don't move, sweetie. who told you you get to grind on my thigh?” he grabs your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to meet his glacier-blue eyes glinting behind crooked glasses. “let's try again. if f(t) = sin(3t), then what's the Laplace transform?” his breath ghosts over your cheek, one hand directing your gaze to the paper like you aren't already losing your mind.

your mind scrambles, your pussy pulses, and you're cursing the world for putting you in this situation. you can't even help it, it just feels so good. 

your voice breaks on a moan, nothing reflecting your angry mind “three… over…squared plus n-nine—”

gojo groans softly, cock twitching under your ass. “there she is,” he mutters, hand sliding down to rub rough circles against your clit. “smart and fuckable? you might be my new favorite little project sweetie.”

and just as a whimper leaves your lips—the second your hips barely roll forward in a desperate grind—he yanks his hand away.

“what did i say?” he asks, calmly adjusting his glasses like he's not the filthiest thing on earth right now. “no grinding. one right answer doesn't mean you get to cum. you've got four more questions, we're far from done.”

he lands another slap on your clit—scarily precise. “i get to edge you again. and again. until your poor little cunt forgets what cumming even feels like.” you sob his name as he pulls your underwear taut between your fat lips, the soaked lace dragging cruelly against your swollen clit. you shove your fist into your mouth, biting it to stay quiet.

he dips his fingers back into the ruined mess between your legs. not inside—never inside apparently. he's probably a psychopathe who loves skimming his student's pussy entrance, circling it like a threat.

 “if you get all the five right tho," he murmurs darkly, "i'll bend you over this desk and fuck you, raw, with your nose pressed onto that test," your walls clench hard at his words—and he feels it, obviously…

smirking into your hair, he adds, “you'd love that, of course you would. so go on, sweetie. show me you're not just a brainless little brat. show me how much of a perfect slut you are for good grades.”

you swear once you'll get all your mind together, you're gonna make him regret everything. that cocky, small-dick bastard—acting like he's got a big game between his thighs. 

a nerd like him, isn't packing enough to pleasure you. right?

^⌯𖥦⌯^

a/n aaaand we thanks my bachelor in engineer for my knowledge ☝🏼 tho i hope you enjoyed reading this, i don’t think it’s perfect buuut i tried :))) let me know 🫶🏻

[flwrkid14]

The Gotham Bat Goes Missing (Or: Danny Fenton Has a Toddler Now)

The bats are in full crisis mode.

Tim Drake—Red Robin, Gotham’s most paranoid workaholic, the one who always has a backup plan—has completely vanished. No comms, no tracker, no digital footprint, nothing. One second, he was on patrol. The next? Gone.

It’s a disaster.

Bruce is brooding harder than usual, Dick is trying to stay optimistic but failing, and Cass is threatening to burn the whole city down if they don't find him. No one is taking it well.

Meanwhile, across Gotham, completely unaware of the chaos he's caused, one Danny Fenton is staring at the adorable toddler he found wandering alone in Crime Alley.

"Where are your parents, little guy?" Danny asks, frowning.

The tiny child, wrapped in Danny’s hoodie like a makeshift blanket, just stares at him with impossibly sharp blue eyes and pouts. "Bwuce!"

Danny blinks. "Bus?"

The kid shakes his head very seriously. "No, Bwuce!"

"...Right. How bout we just head to my place and figure this out, okay?"

Tim huffs, but slumps his head over Danny's shoulder and allows himself to be taken. Danny's lucky he's cute, or else Tim would be running away by now.

-—

Danny wasn’t planning on adopting a kid, but fate (or Gotham’s weirdness) had other plans. And honestly? Timmy is the cutest thing ever.

He’s got the biggest blue eyes, the puffiest little cheeks, and he’s scary smart for a kid who can barely talk. Every time Danny works on his university homework, Timmy crawls up next to him with a determined look on his tiny face, grabs a crayon (because Danny refuses to let him use a real pen after the first ink disaster), and starts helping.

By helping, of course, Danny means scribbling all over his work in bright, clashing colors.

"Good job, Timmy," Danny coos, watching as Timmy proudly waves his crayon like he just solved quantum mechanics.

Timmy beams, babbling nonsense that sounds like he’s trying to explain something very serious, but his tiny lisp makes it impossible for Danny to take seriously, and just makes his heart melt with utmost adoration.

"You're the smartest little guy ever, huh?"

Timmy nods solemnly, “Wheely smawt" he smiles, smacking his tiny hand on Danny’s physics notes like he just made an important breakthrough.

Danny has no idea what’s going on, but he loves this kid.

-—

Meanwhile, back at the cave, Bruce is one sleepless night away from losing his mind.

"Where the hell could he be?" Jason groans.

"We’re going to find him," Dick insists, though he looks ready to cry.

Steph is stress-eating while Cass is silently scanning every camera feed in Gotham.

Somewhere in the city, their missing brother is giggling as Danny Fenton makes airplane noises and spoon-feeds him applesauce.

[chrissssssmut]

winter aespa school student president x male loser reader smut?

DETENTION

School President Winter x Loser Male Reader

AN: I've got so much time now! I am currently on a break from my work which explains the everyday upload! Love y'all!♥️

It was almost 5:00 PM. The school hallways were long emptied out—no chatter, no squeaking shoes, no slam of lockers. Just silence.

Except for Classroom 2-C.

You were still in there, sitting awkwardly in the back row, tapping your pencil against the desk and glancing toward the front of the classroom. And there she was. Still there, arms crossed, standing by the board like she ran the entire building.

Because she did.

“Still spacing out?” Winter said, voice clipped, authoritative. “It’s no wonder your grades are in the gutter.”

You sat up straighter immediately. “I—I’m not spacing out. I’m just… I thought detention was over by now.”

She slowly turned to face you fully, blazer pressed, school emblem pinned over her chest, and a little clipboard in her hand.

“Oh?” she stepped down from the podium. Heels clicking. "You thought? That's funny, considering you barely think at all during class. Late three times this week. Homework—missing. And I hear from Ms. Choi you were dozing off during her lecture.”

You rubbed your neck, cheeks heating. “I mean… yeah, but—”

“Enough.” Her voice sliced through your excuse.

You didn’t dare talk back. Not to her. Kim Minjeong, aka Winter, was a legend. Student council president. Top of every class. Ice-cold, terrifying, beautiful.

She stepped closer.

"Everyone else has left," she said softly. Her voice changed—calmer, but still in control. “But you? You’re staying.”

Your breath caught. “Why…?”

“Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Winter looked down at you, her arms finally relaxing to her sides. Then she reached into her skirt pocket and slowly pulled out something small, lacy—

Your brain froze.

Pink panties.

Your eyes widened.

“W-what—are those—”

“Mine.” She twirled them on her finger casually. “They’ve been in your bag all day, haven’t they? You think I didn’t notice?”

You panicked. “I-I didn’t steal them, I swear! Someone must’ve planted them—”

Her hand suddenly pressed against your desk, leaning in close. Her cold, unreadable face just inches away. "You didn’t steal them?" she whispered. “Then why are they wet, loser?”

Your mouth dried. “I-I didn’t—”

Winter smirked—just barely. “You're such a pervert. Always staring when you think I don't see. Always so quiet, so obedient... You act like I don’t know every single filthy thought in your head.”

Your cock twitched in your pants.

She saw it. Of course she did.

And instead of being disgusted, Winter... smiled.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asked. “Being put in your place by your school president. Having me hold your detention hostage while you sit there with your cock getting hard in your pants like a dog.”

You bit your lip.

She raised the panties to your face and let them rest across your cheek. "They were on me this morning. I wore them in every council meeting, every class. And now they're here. With you.”

Then she slid them down… down to your lap. Rubbed them across your bulge slowly, carefully.

You shuddered.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

She tilted her head, tone mockingly sweet. “What was that?”

“...I like it.”

She smiled again. “Good boy.”

Then Winter moved like a switch flipped. She grabbed your tie, yanked you forward, and kissed you. No hesitation, no testing the waters—just full lips, soft scent, hot breath, and a tongue that claimed your mouth like it was hers.

When she pulled back, a thin string of spit connected you.

She walked back toward the teacher’s desk, sat on it, and spread her legs.

Her skirt was still on. But no panties now. Just skin underneath, smooth and soft and wet. Your mouth hung open.

“Crawl,” she said. “Come here.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

Your knees hit the floor. You crawled down the aisle between desks like a pathetic little pet and knelt in front of her. Her shoes brushed your sides as she opened her legs wider.

Winter leaned back on her hands, biting her bottom lip slightly. "Look at you. All that quiet loner act, and now you’re on your knees for me. Such a good little loser."

You swallowed hard. “Can I taste…?”

She looked down her nose at you. “Beg for it.”

“Please…” you murmured, breath shaky. “Please, President… I want to taste you so bad…”

“Of course you do.” She slid forward on the desk, pussy now inches from your lips. “Now shut up and show me you’re worth the breath it takes to keep you around.”

You dove in.

She tasted sweet and sharp, hips jerking just slightly as your tongue flicked across her folds. She grabbed your hair, fingers laced tight, forcing your face deeper. Your nose was buried in her as you licked her slit, circled her clit, sucked when she gasped.

“F-fuck—mmph… just like that,” she muttered. “God, you’re so good with that tongue, aren’t you? Knew you’d be good for something.”

You moaned against her.

The panties she left on your lap were now stuffed into your hand—and you used them to jerk yourself off, the scent of her soaking them while her taste coated your mouth.

Suddenly—her grip tightened.

"Stop."

You froze.

Her eyes were cold again. “You don’t come until I say so. Got it?”

“Y-yes.”

She stood up, fixed her skirt. Walked over to your desk. “Sit.”

You stumbled to your feet, pants around your ankles, dick throbbing hard.

Winter sat on your lap facing you, straddling, her pussy rubbing right over your tip.

“Been thinking about this for weeks,” she muttered. “Watching you squirm in the back row, hiding your hard-ons like I don’t see them. Wondering what your cock would feel like.”

You groaned. “Please—”

She cut you off by sliding down.

Just like that—tight, wet heat wrapped around your cock.

You choked out a breath. “F-fuck—Winter—President—”

Her eyes rolled back for a second. “God… you are thick…”

Then she began to move.

Slow, deep, grinding strokes that made the desk creak. Her skirt hiked up around her waist, your hands desperately grabbing her hips as she rode you like she owned every inch.

She leaned in close again, lips brushing your ear. “You like when your school president’s pussy’s wrapped around your cock?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“You like when I fuck you like I own you?”

"Please—keep going—"

She moaned, breath hot. “Keep talking like that and I might let you come.”

Just as you felt your release creeping up—

Click.

The doorknob turned.

You both froze.

Outside: heavy footsteps.

A voice. “Hello? Anyone still in here?”

Your eyes went wide.

Winter didn’t move.

“Don’t you dare make a sound,” she whispered, her pussy still squeezing you inside her.

“Security,” the man outside called. “Classroom check.”

Winter leaned forward and bit your neck. Hard. Your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Her hips slowly moved again. Riding you. While a grown man stood just outside the door.

She whispered, “Keep it together. Be a good little fucktoy. Don’t spill until I say.”

The security guard rattled the knob once more… then moved on.

Silence.

Then—

Winter slammed down hard.

You cried out—but she kissed you to muffle it, riding you mercilessly now.

“Come for me,” she ordered. “Fill your school president up like the obedient loser you are.”

Your vision blurred as you spilled inside her. Her pussy milked every drop.

She bit your lip when you sagged backward, panting.

Winter grinned, satisfied. “Not bad,” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll keep you for extra lessons.”

You were still twitching, your cum leaking down your shaft and dripping onto the chair.

Winter stood up, pulled her skirt back down, and walked to the door like nothing happened.

“Oh,” she added, turning back. “Detention tomorrow. Same time.”

She winked.

“And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you keep my panties.”

THE NEXT DAY

Your legs couldn’t stop shaking under your desk all day.

Every time you blinked, you saw it again—her skirt riding up, her panties in your lap, her voice whispering filth in your ear while she ground herself on your cock like she owned it.

Winter. Kim Minjeong. Your school’s untouchable student council president. And now—somehow—the girl who made you cum inside her in Classroom 2-C while the security guard nearly caught you both.

She didn’t text you. Didn’t look at you during class. Didn't even acknowledge your existence.

But as the final bell rang, and students started filing out, a note slid across your desk.

"President’s Office. 4:30 PM. Don’t be late."

Your heart nearly stopped.

By the time you stood in front of the council office door, your palms were sweaty. You knocked—once.

No answer.

You tried the handle. Unlocked.

The room was dim—sunlight low through the blinds, casting stripes across the wooden floors and bookshelves. There was only one person inside.

Her.

Winter sat behind the wide mahogany desk, blazer folded neatly off to the side, white shirt fitted tight to her body, first two buttons undone. Her legs were crossed, black heels tapping the edge of the carpet.

She didn’t look up.

“Took you long enough.”

You stepped in. Quiet. Nervous. Hard already.

She flipped a page in the file she was reading. "Close the door.”

You obeyed. The click of the lock sounded way louder than it should’ve.

Winter finally looked up.

Eyes sharp. Hungry.

“You remember what I told you yesterday?” she asked.

“Y-yeah.”

“Repeat it.”

Your voice trembled. “You said… detention. Same time. Same place.”

She smirked faintly. “You remember everything I say so well. Guess that loser brain does work when you’re thinking about the right things.”

She stood. Walked over slowly, hips swaying.

Then she sat on the edge of the desk in front of you, legs open just enough to tease. You looked down—no panties again.

She was completely bare under that tight school skirt.

Your breath caught.

Winter tilted her head. “Well? Are you just going to stare?”

You dropped to your knees.

“Good boy.”

You leaned in, but her heel pressed to your chest, stopping you.

“Not yet,” she said. “Tell me what you thought about last night.”

You swallowed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. About how tight you felt. How wet. How—fuck—I came so deep inside you—”

“Mhm,” she said, pleased. “I thought about it too.”

Her heel lowered.

“You begged so nicely with my panties in your lap.”

Then she leaned back again, this time reaching down and parting herself with two fingers.

"Now come worship properly."

Your tongue was already out before she finished speaking.

Winter moaned softly as your lips found her again. Her pussy was already dripping, soaking your chin as you licked up and down her folds, slow, obedient, desperate.

She tugged your hair and pulled you in deeper, grinding her hips to your mouth. “God, you eat pussy like it’s the only thing you’re good for. Maybe it is.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn't. Her taste filled your senses and her grip kept you locked in.

“Use your tongue right,” she hissed. “Circle my clit—slower—don’t stop until I say.”

You obeyed every word.

Then—

She stopped you.

“Sit down,” she said, pointing to the chair in front of the desk. “Strip.”

You did. Shirt off. Pants gone. Cock standing proud and throbbing.

Winter walked over, heels clicking, and straddled your lap—but didn’t let you in.

Not yet.

Instead, she pulled something from the desk drawer.

Your jaw dropped.

It was the same pink pair of panties from yesterday.

She ran them over your chest, then down to your shaft, wrapping them around the base like a makeshift cock ring and tying a knot.

“There,” she said, satisfied. “You don’t get to come until I untie you.”

You whimpered.

Winter leaned down, her voice in your ear.

“You're going to sit there and take it like a good little loser while I ride your cock until I cum—over and over.”

Then she guided herself down—slowly, torturously—until your entire shaft was inside her again.

You almost exploded on the spot.

But the tight knot at the base kept it from happening.

She used you.

Rode you hard, bouncing in rhythm with her breathless moans, her nails digging into your shoulders as you clenched your fists, panting through gritted teeth, desperate to finish.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “Not until I’ve milked every drop you’ve got stored in there.”

She fucked you with practiced rhythm. Hips snapping. Wet, obscene sounds filling the council office as her thighs slapped against yours. Your cock throbbed painfully, restrained, held back by the knot of her panties.

Then suddenly—knock knock.

You both froze.

Winter immediately slammed her hand over your mouth. Her hips didn't stop.

"President?" a voice called from behind the door. "It's Mr. Park—building check. Are you still inside?"

Your cock twitched inside her.

Winter leaned close, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re hard in your president while someone’s talking to us through the door,” she whispered. “You’re such a fucking pervert.”

You moaned behind her hand.

She answered, voice perfect, calm.

“Yes, Mr. Park. Still finalizing the reports. I’ll be done shortly.”

“Oh, alright then. Just locking up soon.”

You both waited. Silence.

Footsteps faded.

Winter looked back at you.

Then untied the knot.

“You may come,” she whispered, tightening her walls around you. “Now.”

Your whole body snapped.

You exploded inside her, load after load, thick, twitching ropes spilling deep in her pussy as you cried out into her palm.

She moaned softly, grinding down to take every last drop.

When you finally stopped shaking, she leaned back and smiled.

Your cum dripped out between her thighs as she stood, slowly putting her blazer back on.

She walked around the desk, sat back in her chair, crossed her legs.

“Clean yourself up,” she said without looking.

You grabbed tissues. Wiped your cock. Pulled your pants on.

“Same time tomorrow,” she said, eyes still on her laptop. “I expect you to knock this time. And bring me something sweet.”

You blinked. “Like… candy?”

She looked up, smirking.

“No. Your mouth.”

[angel-sweets666]

Wrong photo!

AGED UP AGED UP BRO NO PEDOS

Denki kaminari x fem!reader

You accidentally send Denki a photo of your tits instead of homework, you didn’t expect him to send his dick back

mdi

a/n okay so this is inspired by a post I saw, I forgot the name of the blog but if someone knows can you put the name in the comments? Inspired by this text message thing where you accidentally send mha boys nudes

warning: swearing ,nudes, oral m and f, boobie sucking, fingering 🙏🙏

ALL CREDS GOING TO THE INSPIRED CREATOR

You groan and slam your head onto the table in frustration. This homework was impossible; no matter how many times you went over it, the answers just wouldn’t come. The jumble of equations and theories seemed to mock you from the pages of your textbook.

Grumbling, you pulled out your phone, feeling a mix of desperation and determination. You opened your chats and scrolled to Bakugo’s name. He was one of the smartest kids in class, and despite his rough exterior, you knew he could help.

*name*: bakugo can you help me with this homework?

explosion tits: no figure it out yourself dumbass

*name*: this is why you get no bitches

explosion tits: kys.

You scoffed in annoyance. What’s up his ass recently? you wondered, fidgeting with your phone. The dorms were unusually quiet, with most of the students away at various hero training sessions. Only you and three other kids were left behind, making the place feel almost deserted.

Scrolling through your contacts, you realized your options for homework help were limited. You could message Mineta, but the thought of dealing with his inappropriate responses made your skin crawl. He'd likely send you an unsolicited picture of his 1cm shriveled-up cock instead of any actual help with homework.

That left Denki. While he wasn’t the brightest, he was at least not as creepy as Mineta. You sighed and opened a chat with Denki, typing out a message.

*name* hey does this look right to you? [image]

free charger 🙏 : WOAH HELLO TO YOU TOO

*name* Tf you on about?

Free charger 🙏: [image]

your face turned bright pink as you opened the picture, that was Denkis dick. You always expected him to have a small dick but clearly not. you looked back down at your phone to type

*name* DENKI WHAT THE FUCK

free charger🙏: WHATT YOU SENT ME TITTIES I SENT YOU MY DICK I THOUGHT WE WERE TRADING NUDES

you stare at your screen in complete horror, what does he mean you sent titties? You checked the photo you sent and there it was, the nudes you had saved for dudes you were talking to…. But you had accidentally sent them to the 2nd dude you’d never want to send nudes to, first being mineta.

The sound of fast stomps echoed down the hall, and you assumed it was Bakugo chasing Izuku or Kirishima. Then, you remembered that both Izuku and Kirishima were out doing hero training. So who was stomping down the hallway if not bakugo?

The door bursted open, it was a very panicked kaminari “IM SORRY LETS FORGET ABOUY THIS” he said as he snatched your phone “HEY!” You yelped, trying to grab your phone back “IM DELETING THE PHOTOS HOLD ON!” He screamed, bakugos yelling could be heard in the distance “SHUT IT.” His gruff voice exclaimed. You watched kaminari try to delete the photos, a panicked look on his face; while you watched him do this you looked him up and down, noticing the obvious bulge in his pants

he didn’t have time to jerk off between you sending the photos and him bursting into your room? Your face turning pinker at the idea of his dick, he wasn’t exactly small and he had a very pretty dick… the familiar warmth went straight for your lower belly…

kaminari was muttering quick apologies, trying as quickly as he could to delete the photos “imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry” “Denki!” “I’m trying to not be such a creep and i basically just ruined it all” “ Denki!” “DONE! What?” He looked up at you “it’s fine, we all make mistakes” you tried to calm him down but to be honest it was more yourself from your own flustered moment “WHAT FRIENDS SEND EACH OTHER NUDES?” He acted bewildered, throwing his hands “uh… friends with benefits?” You shrugged as you thought about it.

Denkis jaw dropped as he once again yelled “ARE WE FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS? IVE NEVER EVEN SEEN YOUR BOO- oh wait yes I have” he calmed down at the thought, his eyebrows furrowing before his face proceeding to get a lot pinker. The hardness between his legs became a lot worse. “NOT THE POINT!” He said as he gently threw your phone into your lap, but you seemed preoccupied; Your eyes going between his eyes and his dick.

Denki stood face to face with you, trying to figure out where your line of sight was. Denki soon realised why your face was so pink and it wasn’t because you had just seen his dick on camera or because you accidentally shown him your titties “are you.. are you looking at my dick?!” he seemed so surprised, not a bad surprised with how Pervy he was but just… surprised. “OH SHIT SORRY! H-HOW ABOUT YOU JUST L-LEAVE AND WE NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN YEAH?” You tried to push Denki out of your dorm, letting out a nervous laugh.

Denki saw an opportunity and he was going to take it? He suddenly resisted against your push and grabbed your hands to take them off his back “hey Uhm…” he starts “well you do have very pretty titties” he smirks and leans down to you, your whole face turning a much pinker shade “w-wha?” You stammered, trying to reach up and push Denki out “what? You do!” He chuckled and took a step forward “Denki what are you doing?” You crossed your arms against your chest, unknowingly giving him a better view of your tits. Denki grins and looks down at them “hey! Now you’re just showing them off.” He sneakily shut the door behind him.

“I-i wasn’t showing them off!” The feeling of arousal became worse and worse, you began to realise he was probably trying to see if you’ll let him see or even touch your boobs “what are you doing..?” You asked as you stepped back, Denki stepping forward “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEMME SEE ‘EM.” The blonde begged, clasping his hands together as he could feel his pants get even tighter. “I won’t hurt you I promise! I won’t even tell anyone!” He kept begging, even going as far as getting on his knees.

You thought about it for a moment, your face going pink. “I mean.. as long as this stays between us…” you mumbled, looking away to hide your obvious pink face. Denkis eyes lit up but then he tried to look more serious about it, not wanting to assault you obviously. You slowly sat down “AND NO HARD GRABBING! I’m not in the mood for sore boobs” you stuck your finger out at him, laying down some ground rules so you two were on the same page “deal! Wait I can grab them?” His face lit up again “i suppose yeah… BUT DONT HURT ME.” You reminded him of the rule “I’ll be gentle! I’ll be very gentle with you” he raised his hands to show that he was being honest. You got yourself in a more comfortable position on the bed as you pulled your shirt off, chucking it to the other side of the room. While you didn’t notice it, Denki was is absolute awe to see a girl in her bra at all.

“Mkay calm down” you giggled as tried to wake him from his trance, he shook his head to pull himself together. Denki slowly sat next to you on the plush mattress of your bed, he wanted to make himself comfortable for this. Why was he panicking so much?! You reached behind yourself and unclasped your bra, chucking it on the floor too before laying down on your back. Denki was again in complete awe, now he had a pretty girl laying down next to him with her tits out, this day could not get any better for Denki.

“Are you sure I can touch ‘em” he mumbled, obviously wanting confirmation he was actually allowed to touch you. “Yeah go on then” you smiled sweetly up at him, that made his brain overheat. Denkis hand reached out and slowly caressed over your left boob, paying extra attention to the sensitive bud on you. You let out a whimper and his face lit up, a new found confidence going him ability to keep going, his other hand reached out to caress your right tit. He soon found a way to hover over you as he squeezed and gently play with your tits. Denki chuckled in awe, he couldn’t believe he out of all people was making you feel this good. Atleast he assumed you felt good because of the whimpers you let out.

Denki looked up at you and slowly lowered his head to suck on your right nipple. You let out a whine and gripped his hair, grabbing a fistful. He giggles against your boob and waves his tongue over the sensitive bud “shit…”he whispered as he popped off your boob and leaned down to suck on the other one, fondling the one he just had in his mouth. You arched your back a little and let out a coo, running your fingers through his golden blonde locks. The blonde soon popped off your other boob, fondling both with his warm hands. He smirked smugly as he admired your body, he lowered his head again to kiss the valley between each breast before lowering his kisses down your belly as he listened to your sweet noises

“shit your actually really pretty, not like because I just sucked your tits it’s because your like actually pretty!” He sat up to admire you, you blushed and gripped the bedsheets “hmmph.” You pouted “damn someone’s got a attitude” Denki muttered as he went back to kissing your boobs and tummy, you slowly snaked your hand into his hair again and let out a series of whimpers with each kiss and suck. Denki grumbled when he realised that he didn’t have any condoms, looks like a blow job will do fine.

“Can I uh.. take your shorts off?” He asked, trying to atleast make you comfortable “it’s okay if you don’t wanna! It’s completely up to you princess” Denki grins up at you “yeah.. it’s fine” you sat up on your elbows to look down at him, his face was flushed and his eyes sparkled with arousal. Denki placed his fingers under your waistband and pulled your shorts down “shit were going commando today?” His eyebrows raised as his pupils grew, he used his big hands to pull your thighs apart “oh my god your so wet..” Denki mumbled, he had a genuine idea on how to eat a girl out from the pornos he watched but other than that he didn’t know how to pleasure you!

“you gotta let me eat you out” he looked up at you, Pupils blown and all. You let out a surprised whimper, then slowly nodded. “With your words princess with your words” he tapped your thigh with his finger, you gulped and looked down at your pussy “yeah.. sure you can eat me out..” you mumbled bashfully, Denki grinned and pulled your hips towards his face. Licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, you let out a moan and gripped the bedsheets “nghh” your back arched off the mattress. Denki began to eat you out like a starved man, shoving his tongue inside and tongue fucking you before sucking on your clit, he pulled back with a pop and stuck his two fingers into his mouth to use as lube even though you were slick enough from your own juices and his spit for his two fingers to slide right in.

slowly Denki slid his fingers inside of you, stretching your walls out deliciously. You let out a desperate whine as he began to pump his thick fingers deeper and deeper, hr leaned back down to tongue at your clit. You sat up and gripped at his hair, he grunted against your clit. Causing a vibration against your core “t’much! I’m gonna.. I’m gonna..” you whined as the grip on his hair got tighter “holy shit am I about to make a girl cum?” He thought in his mind as he began to pump his fingers faster, making you release more and more moans. eventually you let out one last squeal before cumming hard on his fingers, you panted tiredly and looked down at his hand. Denki slowly pulled his fingers out, slick and cum glistening his fingers. Denki slowly stuck his fingers in his mouth and tasted you on his digits “shit.. pussy tastes good” he mumbled “huh?!” You gasped “calm down!” He chuckles and sat up, leaning his body over you “would you please suck me off? I’m actually really hard and it’s starting to hurt like a lot” he said with a sigh, enjoying the thought of you chocking on his dick.

you gulped and looked down between his legs, the bulge looked painful. “Yeah.. that looks like it hurts.” You nodded as you sat up straight, now completely naked infront of him. Denki grinned and sat down on the mattress, pulling his shorts and boxer briefs off his hips. Releasing his cock from the constraints of his pants , the poor thing was so hard that he even had precum dripping down the length of his dick:((

you sat down on the floor between his legs, your face blushing. Denki ran his hands through his hair, an attempt to calm his nerves. “You know I’ve never had a blow job before” he chuckles nervously as he watches you spit into your hand, you look up at him “I’ve never been eaten out before this so it’s fine” you told him, teaching over and beginning to stroke his lengthy cock. He let out a groan, your hand was so much better then his own fist. You leaned forward and licked the side; base to tip, giving the tip a couple swirls of the tongue. He groaned “shit are you sure you’ve never done this before?!” He said with a groan “mhm..” you hummed against the tip, causing a vibration that made him moan. Denki grabbed a fist full of your hair and pushed your head down on his cock. “Nghh fuck! That feels too good… I’ll probably cum quick…” he groaned as he used his hand to help you suck it, face fucking you.

you could feel the tip of his length going down your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. You gripped his thighs tightly so you had something to hold onto “shit I’m gonna fucking.. cum” he grunted as he began to face fuck you a little faster, he pushed your face all the way down his cock before letting out spurts of hot cum “soo fucking good…” he mumbled, letting your head go so you could breath. You pulled your face off his cock and slowly swallowed all of it, opening your mouth so he could see you swallows all of his seed “that’s hot…” he smirked and rubbed your cheek, and all of this came from doing homework

SHIT YOUR HOMEWORK.

[deadsetobsessions]

I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?

——

After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.

“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.

He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!

Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.

“Thank Ancients!”

Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.

With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.

A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.

As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.

His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.

How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!

Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.

“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”

Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.

——

“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.

“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”

“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”

“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”

Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.

A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.

"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"

The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"

"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.

"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"

"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”

Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”

"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"

The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.

Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!

"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!

“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”

“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”

Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.

"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.

Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.

"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.

"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"

"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."

"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."

Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."

"Who is the leader now?"

Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."

"Flash."

"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"

"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."

"Flash."

"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.

"Ugh, fine. No one video this."

Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."

The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.

"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."

"What do you want in exchange for information?"

Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."

He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.

"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."

"I have cash."

Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"

"I like to be prepared."

"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.

The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."

Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."

"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.

Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."

"Identity." Batman demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."

"...What."

"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."

The crown of ice materialized.

"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.

"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"

Batman growled. "You tricked us."

Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."

The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"

"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.

[star--stilinski]

at first, stiles didn't even notice it. the way his heart would race and his cheeks would flush; he was used to having that reaction around you. so used to it, in fact, that he had stopped letting it be a distraction. you'd giggle at his joke or look up at him through your lashes and he'd blush, fidget, move on. like his own little routine.

what got distracting was when he had made the sudden realization one day: you're hot. 

the two of you had been friends for so long, crushing for almost that whole time, that by the time stiles looked up and saw you in your bikini, it was too late to turn back. he was a goner.

literally-he was out of lydia's backyard and in her half bathroom before you could even ask him to help with your sunscreen.

holy shit. he gripped the sink, glaring at his flushed reflection. get yourself together, perv. so she's got nice tits. really, really nice tits and thighs that could suffocate you and jesus her hips-

no! nope, no no no nonono. it is way too early for this. get real. she's seen you recite the entire opening crawl of the force awakens. she is not going to do that with you- woah! or that! get it together. get it together. get it together.

and so stiles marches back out where you and your friends are gathered, playing marco polo. you glance at him and smirk in that way the tells him you're totally cheating, only proven true when allison calls out "marco!" and you slide past her in the water without joining in the choruses of "polo!"s from all over the pool.

stiles stiffens. your goddamn smirk. 

this is going to be a loooong day.

☆

and it was. a long day that ended in his right hand wrapped around his cock and a fantasy he wouldn't repeat even if there was a gun to his head. 

but that was over, and it was three days later, anyway. the pack was meeting at the movies to see a new romcom, which the girls were excited for, and the guys were... hoping it had a good soundtrack. it's not that they didn't want to go, it's just that their time- well, stiles' time could be better spent on things like useless research and avoiding his homework. that was his mindset walking into the theater.

now, he's about three inches from having no mindset at all. you're sat next to him, too close for him to remember a single detail of the movie, and you're wearing a tank top. low cut. lace trim on the top. prettiest color he's ever seen.

and stiles can see straight down it. 

every time he glances over at you, whether it be an excuse of reaching for the popcorn or making a joke or listening to you talk, he has a view down your top right to where your tits are pressed together, rising and falling subtly with each breath. he wonders what the smooth skin of your breasts would look like covered in hickeys. he imagines the sounds you'd make if he had you pinned down, mouth enveloping your pert nipples. he-

he gets up a little too hastily when he rushes out of the theater, into the quiet hall.

"god," he mumbles, tugging his own hair. "fuck."

he has to will his blood to cooperate before he can show his face again.

☆

it's getting worse. 

stiles is chewing on the cap of the marker he has in his hand, eyes darting all over his murder board.

"wouldn't they hunt in packs? this fable here, it reads... stiles?"

stiles turns on his heel, watching you now as you sit on his bed. he's been avoiding looking at you lately, since just recently he had a close call when you hit your knee on scott's coffee table and whined a dramatic 'ahh', leaving stiles to imagine that noise, that face you made in other scenarios.

it's been harder (ha, ha, yeah, no pun intended. he's struggling.) since you asked to come over and help with some research he was doing after a meeting with deaton. you sat all pretty and focused on his bed, twirling and tucking and sometimes tugging your hair when you read out of a book he had borrowed (stolen) from the argent's.

so when he looked at you now, it was with great mental strength. especially when you started rattling off a really smart point he didn't think anyone else would notice that he had realized twenty minutes ago, giving him some time to zone out and watch as you gather your hair behind you, tying it up in a ponytail while you look up at him through your lashes. giving him a second to imagine you looking at him like that with your lips wrapped around his cock, letting him guide you by the ponytail-

stilinski! great. mental. strength.

he turns back to the murder board and nods, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the familiar heat spread all over and his jeans get tight. "yeah, that's- i know, that's a good point."

he hears you shift, the way you get noticeably quiet. "stiles, are you... is everything alright? you seem off."

he shrugs, nods, shrugs again. swallows. "yeah. just a bit tired, that's all."

he can feel your disbelief, but he'd rather feel that then disgust. you both sigh at the same time, and the evening moves on.

☆

it's pretty much every time he sees you now. he's a mess, unable to choose between relieving himself and willing his dick to cooperate. you've made a mess of stiles, and he's dying.

you're wearing leggings today, talking to scott while stiles watches from the bench. coach is barking orders at a couple of stray lacrosse boys, and stiles is lucky enough to have dodged his attention this evening.

game night is usually when he's free of the hold you have on him, too busy gnawing on his goalie gloves and tracking scott across the field. but you and allison showed up early (curse scott and his happy relationship), so his pea-sized brain has time to imagine sliding the buttery fabric down your legs, kissing exposed skin as he goes. he'd definitely pay close attention to your thighs- he thinks about those more than he'd care to admit, and he's aware of how idiotically insecure of them you are. 

because of his train of thought, he doesn't realize you've caught him staring until it's too late. you're prancing over excitedly and leaving scott to smirk at stiles all knowingly, and stiles resists the urge to flip him off.

"you gonna play, 24?" you nudge his foot teasingly with your own. he looks up at you and feels those telltale signs as he fanaticizes about tracing the line of your jaw with his finger, both of you panting softly as he coos at you while you whine pathetically. he has to blink away the thought before he can speak.

"um, i hope not. it's an important game." he leans back a bit and you tilt your head, clearly mulling over your next words. he fills the space in the meantime. "but if i do, i'll be sure to keep away from the ball."

it's music to his ears when you laugh. finally, finally he's blushing about something normal, having regular fantasies instead of these hormone fueled pornos that seem to be on repeat in his head lately. he smiles up at you and you take a small step closer to being in between his legs.

"i don't mean to bring it up so randomly..." you avoid his eyes, fiddling with your hands. "but i was just wondering if i've done something to upset you?"

he blinks. "what?"

"it's just that you've been distant and honestly, you're acting kind of like you're allergic to me. if i did something or there's something going on just tell me. it's kinda driving me crazy." you ramble, brows drawn together in discomfort. 

stiles' eyes widen and he shakes his head, standing. his heart skips a beat when you have to tilt your chin up a bit to keep his eyes. "no, of course not. i didn't know... i guess i've... it's just-" he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. how is he supposed to explain this? 'oh, hey, girl i've been super into for a pathetically long time, i've been imagining what you'd look like if i pinned you to my bed and drove us both insane from a sex marathon! that's cool, right? not objectifying at all!'

you frown, crossing your arms. "just tired?"

it's bait, he knows it is. the same excuse he used less than a week ago to keep you from figuring him out. you're a clever girl and he's stupid when he's horny, so he has to play his cards right here. if you think he's lying, things will only get worse and there's a hefty chance you'll distance yourself. but if he tells a lie a little too well, you're going to be around him constantly again. either way, he's starting to wonder if he's a masochist from the amount of pain he's going to inflict on himself.

"it's nothing, really. i didn't mean to get distant." he clenches his jaw as he gauges your reaction, which is a less-than-ideal-but-not-terrible pout. he wants to smooth the lines of your forehead with his thumb and make you laugh again, but he has to focus. "let me make it up to you?"

you turn your face away (very, very not good) and huff. "no, don't worry about it."

stiles cringes internally and bites the inside of his cheek. how can he un-dig this hole he's in? "no, no, i want to. i shouldn't have made you worry. that's my fault. i'll pick you up tomorrow, we can get food. my treat."

you turn back to face him, and the way your bottom lip just barely juts out tells him you're playing it up, but he doesn't mind. he's come to realize that you like to feel earned, and he's more than happy to earn you. he takes a breath, eyebrows raised. "what are you thinking?"

you drop the pout (much to his relief, he was just starting to imagine you using that face on him when he makes you tell him exactly what you want him to do to you) and put your hands on your (perfect, sexy) hips. "i'm thinking that if you didn't mean to get distant then it was subconscious, and it's going to be more of an effort to be around me than not."

so clever. god, you're so hot when you use critical thinking skills. 

stiles sighs and shuffles a bit. "yeah, okay, i can understand where you're getting that but it's wrong-"

"but it isn't. you've been proving it right all week and-"

"hold on, no i haven't, i've just been-"

"-you definitely lied to me in your room a few days ago-"

"-there's no way you're actually believing-"

"STILINSKI!" coach's voice booms over both of you, halting the beginning of an argument that probably would have only turned stiles on more. he whips his head around to where the entire team is gathered, and realizes he was so wrapped up in you that he tuned out everything around him, including the team rallying together to talk strategy before the game started. he blinks, distantly hearing you mumble a mortified "oh." and skitter off, leaving stiles to be completely embarrassed alone.

"would you like to join us or are you too busy harassing the young ladies in the general area?" coach's tone is strung with impatience, eyes wide.

"ah..." stiles glances to the spot you just stood in and then back to the team. "no, coach, 'm coming."

"fantastic." he drawls, before turning back to the team and continuing his rant. stiles is half-listening, half-daydreaming about 'making it up to you' in many different ways, positions, and places. for many hours.

yeah, he's dead. for sure. you're killing him.

☆

although making it up to you currently involved a lot more clothing and a lot less begging, stiles was having a really good time. sat in his room, arguing about book to movie adaptations, both of you holding your own milkshakes. with all his time spent avoiding you out of... sex-driven fear? he really forgot how much he enjoyed your company.

"you wouldn't get it," you shake your head stubbornly as he stands and sets his milkshake on his desk so he can use the dry erase board in his room. "you don't read books."

"i do-"

"yeah, i don't count the bestiary."

"that's besides the point, anyway. i don't have to read the book to know whether the movie is a good adaptation or not!" he starts writing down movies he knows are heavily based off of books while you crawl across his floor to his desk, sneaking a spoonful of vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. he's too busy to notice that the half-melted treat dribbles off of the spoon and spills above the cut of your tank top (the same one as the movie theater, actually) and onto your exposed thighs.

"fuck." you hiss under your breath. stiles turns to see what caused your quiet outburst, but his brain screeches to a halt at the sight of you.

perched on your knees, you're glaring down at the mess that's been spilled on the top of your tits and thighs, white sliding down to the line where they're pressed together. stiles doesn't even blink, just stares with a slightly open mouth at the sight of you. a small noise leaves his mouth and he can feel the tent in his sweats, but he's a bit frozen.

you look up when he makes the strangled grunt, looking caught with his milkshake in your hand, as if that's his issue right now. "uhh... whoops? i swear, it just flew into my hand! how crazy is that...."

your joke trails off as you really see his face. his eyes are dark and hungry, almost predatory as they sweep over your body, hanging on the spills that you made. his mouth shuts and his jaw clenches. his hands are curled into restrained, white-knuckled fists. and...

he's hard as a fucking rock.

it's easy to tell, with his grey sweatpants, and you feel your mouth water at the sight.

"it's fine." he mumbles, voice dry. you take a second before you realize he's talking about the milkshake. both of you are bright red. you force out a breath and he seems to come to, turning back around quickly. "uh, s-so, harry potter-"

"is that because of me?" you blurt, getting hotter in the cheeks every second.

"is... oh. um, i'm sorry, sorry, fucking shit-" he's not facing you.

"stiles."

stiles quiets, turning to face you finally. your stomach swoops and you shuffle barely closer. his adams apple bobs.

"yeah. it... it is"

that's it. a simple confession, but it feels like a chord being snapped between the two of you. your confidence grows. you made stiles like that.

"are you gonna do something about it?"

his head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at you. "you want me to?"

"why else would i ask, stiles?" you sound almost exasperated, like he's taking to long. he swallows and drops to his knees in front of you.

stiles. is crawling towards you. on his knees.

"are you... do you really?" he's close, so close now. looking into your eyes like they'll answer for you. like they contain every 'yes' you've been too scared to whisper.

which, honestly, is probably not far from true.

"i do. i really, really, d-"

his lips are on yours before you can finish, one hand cupping the back of your neck to bring you closer. you let out a muffled noise of surprise, mouth opening on it's own accord as stiles takes the kiss deeper, tongue exploring your mouth hotly.

"you're impossible-" stiles gasps, going in for more before he can finish. "-to be around-" his teeth nip your bottom lip. "-when i can't have you."

his lips leave a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth, so passionate that he misses, and he continues that trail onto your neck until he finds the spot that makes you squirm. his hands go to your waist, pulling you closer and knocking your knees together. you feel dizzy with want, barely registering his words.

"what-" you gasp, blinking and leaning into his demanding mouth. "what is that supposed to mean?"

stiles groans against the skin of your neck, kissing lower, closer to the sticky mess you made just minutes ago. "i can't think... can't even... fuckin'... breathe when you're near, y'look so pretty. j'st wanna make you-"

he interrupts himself again, opting instead to lick the ice cream off the top of your tits like he's starving. you gasp as the feel of his tongue against your skin, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the sudden pressure shooting down your stomach to your core. he's barely making sense and he still has you all foggy brained, swaying just a bit under his touch.

"you-you've thought about this? befo- oh-" you stumble, as he tugs lightly against the low cut to give himself better access to the sweetness melted onto your skin. he laughs, seeming to clear up a bit.

"yeah. you kidding me? i've basically been-" he's kissing back up your neck now, seeming to track a path to your lips. "-perpetually hard for the past three weeks."

you swallow thickly and he captures your lips. stiles tastes like vanilla ice cream and it's the most tempting sin, luring you over the edge. enticing you to do things you'd normally pretend you weren't into. he runs a hand down the side of your body, squeezing your hip lightly. "you're torture, you know that?"

"i could say the same to you."

he smiles at you, like a sap, like a saint. you feel your mind fall into his hands and your heart nestle against his ribcage. you no longer belong to yourself. you never have. and neither does he, it seems, as his eyes wander all over you.

"wanna move to the bed? i can clean up your thighs..." his tone is low, clearly suggestive in a bad-pickup-line way. you nod, giggling girlishly and stiles hauls you up to gently lay you back on his bed, tugging your tank top off on the way. his eyes linger on your chest before moving along, kissing a wet trail down your body as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. "god, look at you. you're gorgeous."

it's not like you're wearing lingerie and sexy makeup- you went to stiles' place to lounge, so you're wearing your lounge bra and some comfy shorts. stiles looks at you, though, as if you invented beauty. he sighs contentedly as he pulls your bottoms off slowly, eyes drinking in your stomach and hips and thighs like you're the first woman to have them. once he's got them far off enough, his hands press your hips back down and his eyes meet yours.

"not to late to back out. well- obviously it's never too late, it's just... okay, this is me asking for consent. i was trying to make it sexy, but it sounded a bit rapey."

you laugh breathlessly and nod at him where he stands, towering above your almost-naked form. "stiles, please stop talking and fulfill both of our fantasies already."

stiles grins and tugs his shirt halfway off before stopping abruptly. "wait- both?"

you roll your eyes. "stiles, why would i be so... so..."

"obedient?" he offers with a cocky smirk. you flush.

"agreeable, if i didn't want this?" you nibble your lip as he pulls his shirt the rest of the way off his body, getting on his knees at the edge of the bed and spreading your legs. your body moves pliantly under his hands. the sight of it all is downright promiscuous.

"well," stiles presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. it would be sweet if not for the sinful way his eyes are preoccupied with the wet spot on your panties. "i heard girls find consent sexy. maybe i screwed that one up a bit. what do you think is sexy?" 

he asks in that absent tone that tells you he's storing away information as he kisses further up the inside of your thighs more fervently. you let out a breath that feels too shaky too early and watch as his pink tongue swipes out to lick up some ice cream spill. it makes you clench around nothing. 

"any day now." his hand is gently rubbing your thigh as he moves to lick and suck almost crudely at your other thigh.

your eyes narrow slightly. "gimme a second."

he gets closer to where you're literally soaked for him, nibbling lightly at the plush flesh of your inner thigh. you shove down a low whine of impatience to avoid your already growing embarrassment.

"your attention to foreplay is- i like it." you admit softly and he hums, licking a stripe of ice cream out of the way. taking a second to think, you continue. "i like the... the desperation. how you took me without really... um... i like it when you just do what you want, i mean."

it's difficult to form a single thought once stiles presses a kiss against your clothed clit, being sure to add plenty of pressure. almost like a reward. "what if you don't like what i want? will you tell me to stop?"

you nod, chest rising and falling heavily with every breath. you glance down at stiles, and a small sound leaves your lips when your eyes catch his hand down his sweats, slowly stroking himself. he flushes. 

"you.... can't i help?"

he lets out a small moan and his eyes flutter as he halts his movements. "i don't- i don't have a condom."

against all better judgement, you shake your head and thread your fingers through his messy hair. "it's okay. just pull out, yeah?"

his brows shoot up, and you wonder for a moment if he's about to cum in his pants. but then he nods and rises, standing in between your legs now. his fingers deftly tug off your panties, pocketing them in his sweats (for "safe keeping") and his lips part silently once you're exposed to him.

your legs begin to close, feeling suddenly too naked and too insecure for his hungry eyes, but his hands catch your knees easily, even giving you a little tap as a sign to scoot further onto the bed.

before you comply, curiosity takes over and you tug at the strings on his sweatpants. "wait, what about you?"

he tilts his head. "what about me?"

you narrow your eyes, fingers dipping under the band. "can i take these off?"

"oh!" his brows shoot up, as if he forgot about himself altogether. "oh, yeah, of course. please."

you waste no time pulling his bottoms off, his cock springing out. it's flushed and leaking, looking properly erotic in the dim lighting of his room. your eyes flutter up to meet his and you wrap your hands around him, pumping twice.

stiles moans, hips twitching into your hands on their own accord. "holy shit."

part of you just wants to finish him that way, positively fucking hooked on the look he has, pleasure pinching his pretty face all tight. he pants and pulls your hands away, eyes squeezing shut for just a moment. "y're gonna make me cum, holy shit."

"i'm sorry, you just..." you fluster, laughing a tad at the both of you. he shakes his head, though, so you fall silent and let him crawl over top of you, kissing you deeply. he unhooks your bra with a bit of struggle and you both have to cooperate to get it off of your body. you giggle, and his eyes are locked on you as your smile slowly fades.

"don't be sorry," his voice is gentle, "i've imagined that so many times it should be criminal." he kisses you again and you feel his fingers graze along your stomach. stiles pulls back far enough to see your whole face and you wonder why- then his thumb is circling your clit.

the high-pitched gasp you suck in is not as embarrassing as the louder whine that leaves your lips once he's slid a finger into you, eyes closing for a moment to soak in the bliss. it feels like heaven, for a long moment. but his fingers are slow. too slow. and even when you cant your hips, he doesn't speed up enough to have you seeing stars (like you know he can). instead, he has you writhing impatiently. "you're... stiles, please."

it's whiney and pathetic, but stiles seems to stifle a smirk when he hears it, covering it with a sympathetic pout instead. "i know, pretty girl, i know. you gonna ask nicely?"

and you knew you gave him permission to do whatever he wanted. but you didn't expect to be into it. your lips part and you almost tell him to shut up and fuck you already. but you're hot with embarrassment and something else he can totally feel when your walls clench around his torturous fingers. so instead, you opt for falling right into his hands.

"please, stiles, fuck me already." you whisper, lips brushing against his when you speak. "please."

"there we go." he presses a peck to your lips and slips his fingers out. "such a good girl."

you aren't given any time to process that and the fact that it made you throb like a personal whore- stiles is already swiping his tip through your folds, making you gasp when it catches on your clit. he's panting heavily as he lines himself up, and you're a little surprised when he finds your hand and laces his own against it. 

then, he's stretching you open and you're seeing stars, just like you knew he could make you do.

stiles is sweet, but he's not exactly gentle. hips rolling into you and his tongue pressing against your own. a hand pinning you to the bed and keeping him upright, the other tweaking your nipples or teasing your clit. he's all over you, pulling back every once in awhile to watch the way you arch your back and gasp out unintelligible pleas. his moans are about as pathetic as yours and he hisses "fuck" into your ear when you clench around him tightly. your dance goes on like this for a moment, and he's rambling horny nonsense constantly.

"stiles, 'm close-" you whimper, free hand pulling him closer by the hair. he gasps out and his hips snap roughly. 

"yeah, me too. jesus, you're so perfect. look at you." he pushes some of your hair out of the way, eyes meeting yours. "you gonna cum for me?"

you nod, eyebrows turning up as you feel the warmth crawl up your belly. your free hand tugs at his mussed up hair again and his expression matches yours. he speeds up and you gasp and whimper, pliant under his body as he fucks you into his mattress.

"stiles, fuck, stiles, i'm-"

"that's it, there you go, hooooly fuck." he holds your hips down when you finish, rutting into you with an open mouth. he's got his forehead pressed against your own, swallowing each others desperate moans as he rides you through your orgasm. stiles' moan is sudden and loud when he pulls out in a rush and finishes on your cunt, his tip pressing into your overstimulated clit and making your legs twitch.

you gasp out a breath and sink into the mattress, sighing contentedly. when your eyes flutter open on heavy lids, stiles is gazing at you. he leans down and kisses you, soft and sweet and full of a confession long coming.

"that was..."

"amazing." he finishes dazedly, hands running over your bare skin anywhere he can reach. "want me to use my mouth?"

your brows raise. "stiles, i just came."

"i know." he sighs, playing with some of your hair. "it was so fucking hot."

"you said you've been perpetually hard for three weeks?" you attempt to change the subject, but stiles only grins wider.

"yeah, so i've got plenty more fantasies to play out before i'm out of steam."

you shove him lightly, fighting a flustered smile. "just- give me a second, you dog!" 

"awooooo." stiles deadpans an imitation of a howl, nuzzling into your neck. "let me know when you're ready. i'll just be here. naked. on top of you. in the mood to make you pass out from orgasms. willing to learn every kink you have- which, hey, the praise kink was a good guess, right?"

you groan, pushing him off of you. your face is flushed red and you snatch his nearby discarded t-shirt when you sit up. "that was so out of left field."

"yeah, but was it? i mean, you-"

"i'm getting in the shower, stiles." you stand and take a few steps away from him before you turn to gauge his reaction.

his eyebrows shoot up from where he sits on the bed. it makes you bright fucking red when his eyes trail down and he watches a bead of his own cum slide down your inner thigh. he licks his lips.

"i'll come with."

☆

this is from the vault, so if you've read it already, that's why! don't be afraid to interact with it anyway, i love crazy readers and feral responses sjdjsaskdj

[retiredteabag]

Uncle sukuna

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.

They are practically magnetized to the man.

If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.

Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.

Which he does frequently.

Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.

Almost.

“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”

But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.

Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.

“Can we watch my show kuna?”

“No.”

Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.

“Uncuna… can you help with my math homework please?”

“No.”

The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.

You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.

“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”

“No.”

“Pleaseeeee?????”

“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.

Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.

Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.

It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.

Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.

“KUNA!!!”

Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.

“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“

“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.

Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.

Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.

“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“

“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”

Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.

He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”

Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.

“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”

Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.

Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.

And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.

Cute little brat.

[duvetchico]

soft spot

summary jimin’s favorite place has always been the crook of y/n’s neck—and even after they start dating, that’s where she feels safest.

genre fluff / childhood bestfriends to lovers

pairing yu jimin x fem!reader

masterlist.

you’ve known jimin since before either of you had a proper grip on language. first day of daycare, you offered her half of your snack—she didn’t even like carrots, but she took it and declared you her best friend forever anyway.

since then, it's always been the two of you. scraped knees, dumb fights over crayons, accidentally calling each other by pet names your moms used, falling asleep on calls with face masks on… all of it. you grew up like puzzle pieces—different shapes, but somehow always fitting.

jimin had this habit.

every time she was sad or sleepy or just too damn overwhelmed by the world, she'd curl up into you like a cat and press her face into the crook of your neck. didn’t matter where you were. didn’t matter if your arm was asleep or your shirt was damp from her tears—she’d find her spot, right there beneath your jaw, and everything would go quiet.

“not romantic,” she used to mumble when the others teased. “it’s just… safe.”

and it was. it always was.

then one night, under a million fairy lights at some rooftop party neither of you wanted to go to, you kissed her.

she kissed back.

you think it was the softest yes you’ve ever felt.

fast forward three weeks into dating, and nothing really changed—except everything did.

you still finished each other’s sentences. still shared snacks and watched trashy dramas. still bickered over whether pineapple belonged on pizza (it didn’t, jimin argued, with a dramatic flair that deserved an oscar). but now there were kisses. sleepy back hugs. her hand holding yours under the table when no one was looking.

one night, you’re laying on the couch, the room dim with nothing but the TV playing reruns of some old variety show. your fingers are carding through her hair absentmindedly, and jimin sighs before crawling into your lap and doing exactly what she’s always done—nuzzling into your neck like she belongs there.

you smile, warm and fond. “you still do this, huh?”

“what?”

“this.” you gesture slightly, chin brushing her head. “the whole burrowing-into-my-neck-like-i’m-a-human-pillow thing.”

she doesn’t look up. just hums. “mm. makes me feel calm.”

“you’ve always done it, even before—” you pause. “before you liked me.”

she snorts, finally lifting her head a bit. “who said i didn’t like you back then?”

you blink.

“you—what.”

“baby,” she laughs, eyes sleepy but sparkling. “you were the love of my life since you let me copy your homework in 4th grade.”

you melt. audibly. your brain goes completely static. she tucks herself back into your neck, smug as hell, while your heart goes off like a fire alarm.

“…you’re so embarrassing,” you mutter weakly, though you wrap your arms tighter around her.

“and you’re warm. shut up and let me nap.”

you let her.

because she’s jimin. and she’s in her spot. and you’re the luckiest girl in the world.

[moondustbaby]

Can I Call You That Too?

ceo dad!Rafe x nanny/gf!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

summary: After the baby’s born, Mason comes into the nursery late one night and asks the one question that’s been weighing on his heart—if he can call you “Mommy” too. What follows is a quiet, emotional moment of chosen love and the softest kind of family.

⸻

The baby is finally asleep.

You rock gently in the chair by the window, the soft creak of it the only sound in the room. Your arms ache in that sweet, tired way, wrapped around the tiny bundle against your chest. She’s warm and pink and perfect, her tiny breath puffing out against your skin.

It still doesn’t feel real sometimes. The hospital, the sleepless nights, Rafe holding your hand through every contraction, kissing your forehead with tears in his eyes when she let out her first cry.

Your daughter.

You don’t even hear Mason come in at first.

You glance up and find him standing in the doorway in his dinosaur pajamas, clutching his stuffed triceratops, blinking sleepily. His hair’s a little messy, one sock halfway off, like he got out of bed and forgot how to finish the job.

“Hey, buddy,” you whisper, smiling. “You okay?”

He nods, quiet. He walks across the room, slow and careful, then crawls up into the oversized chair with you. You shift just enough to let him curl against your side, his head resting gently on your arm.

“She’s so small,” he whispers.

“She is,” you say. “She’s still learning the world.”

Mason stares down at her for a long moment. Then he lifts his hand and rests it gently on your belly—now soft and empty and still a little sore.

“She was in there,” he says quietly.

“She was.”

He’s quiet again. You can feel him thinking, feel the little questions piling up behind his eyes.

Then: “She’s gonna call you Mommy, right?”

Your breath catches.

You glance down at him. “Yeah. She will.”

He’s quiet again.

Then he turns his head just slightly and looks up at you, eyes big and wide and a little unsure.

“Can I call you that too?”

You blink fast. Your throat tightens. The baby shifts in your arms, but you can barely feel anything past the ache blooming in your chest.

“Mase…”

His voice is small. “I know I already have a mom. Even if she’s not around. But you’re the one who makes pancakes. And helps with homework. And you always know where my socks are. And now you’re the baby’s mommy. I just… I want to be yours too.”

You don’t mean to cry, but you do.

You press a kiss to his curls, your hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.

“You are mine,” you whisper. “You’ve been mine for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He buries his face into your side, hiding his smile.

“Then I’m gonna call you Mommy now,” he mumbles. “Okay?”

You laugh softly through your tears. “Okay, baby.”

Rafe finds the three of you like that twenty minutes later—your head leaned back, the baby asleep in your arms, and Mason curled against you with one hand tucked around your pinky.

He doesn’t say anything. Just stands in the doorway, heart in his throat, wondering how he got so lucky.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: this one got me. mason being so gentle and thoughtful and honest?? you crying quietly in the rocker?? rafe melting in the doorway?? this family owns me. 🥹

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@maybankslover @lolabunnyworldss @drewstarkeyspecs @superlegend216 @bonjourjiminie @rafesbabygirlx

[moonyysgirl]

reader asking soft!remus (isn't even a DOM mostly) to go rough with her when the full moon nears but he's like 'nooo baby i could never use you like that or degrade you' but she's BEGGING him to let go and then bam four hours later she's almost regretting her decisions. almost.

and then he's back to soft cutipie remus

omg waittt this is so good! thanks sm for the request, hope you like it😘😘 pairings: remus x fem!reader cw; smut, rough!dom remus, slight degradation kink, overstimulation

Knee socks - Remus x Reader

Remus was sweet, so sweet. And most of the time you really loved it. His sweetness was the thing that made you fall for him in the first place after all, and you wouldn't trade it for nothing in the world...but.

But sometimes, especially when the full moon was near, you could feel that there was a different force in him. While he usually never took control during sex, during those times he would get more dominant and rough.

But he'd restrain himself, and even if you wanted him to go rougher on you, and you could sense that he wanted that, he would stop himself. You tried telling him to get faster, rougher. But he just couldn't bring himself to. He'd caress your cheek with his trembling hand "I don't want to hurt you baby, I'll go slower" he would mumble in your ear.

And while that made you melt, that made you also sigh in frustration, because you liked that more dominant side of Remus, and you wanted him to embrace it sometimes, just so you could explore it more. You tried to tell him that.

A couple of days after the last full moon, you told him that you could tell he was being tense during sex the last time. "You know you can go rougher if you feel like it" you suggested "you can take control, if you want...I'd like that" you whispered.

Remus immediately blushed, he shook his head. "Baby...come on" he teased, half jokingly "you know I could never" you sighed "I'm not saying you should do something that makes you uncomfortable..it's just-be yourself okay?" Remus smiled condescendingly "baby, don't worry...I could never hurt you" you smiled back, he really was clueless.

As the next full moon was approaching, you decided to take the matter into your own hands. If Remus didn't want to let go, you would make him. You made sure that it had passed some time since the last time you had sex: you waited as much as possible, to make the sexual tension between the two of you grow.

You went to his dorm while he was in the library, after making sure that Sirius and James would be at quidditch practice for the whole afternoon. You wore the last year's uniform, the one that got a little too tight, too much for school 's dress code, but just enough to hug your figure in all the right places.

The skirt was short, shorter than it should have, and you had your knee socks, the one that you knew -even without him saying so- made Remus lose his mind. He would always fidget with the hem of those damn socks, and when you wore them he always found some excuses to get his hands on your thighs.

So you sat on his unmade bed, waiting for him. You knew he'd finish tutoring at half past three. You looked at the watch, he'd be there in ten minutes max. You started going through some homework while you waited, and when you heard him climb up the stairs you smiled, your heart beat increasing.

Remus stumbled inside. He jumped, immediately noticing you, "Baby...you scared the shit out of me" he smiled. He looked so damn hot. His shaggy hair were messily covering his forehead. His shirt was unbottoned, the sleeves rolled on his elbows, his tie hanging loosely from the collar.

He took the schoolbag off from his shoulder. "What a beautiful surprise" he smiled untying his tie, throwing the school bag on the floor. You giggled, as he took off his shoes and got on the bed, crawling next to you.

"Is it my birthday or something?" he said, kissing you, caressing your thighs, "no, it's just that I know you've been feeling kinda tense lately...for the full moon and everything, you know.." Remus snickered "right..." you smiled maliciously "so I just thought we could do something to take the edge off"

Remus blushed, but he was smiling "mhhh...I see...and what did you had in mind?" you laughed, your hands caressing his back "I don't know...I just think, that maybe, it'll be good to unwind for you" he kissed you "that's a good idea"

You grinned getting on top of him "Rem" you whispered to his ear "I want you to let go this time" you felt his body tense up under yours, his fingers pressing on your waist, his breath hitching "just do whatever you want to me" you whispered, your core getting warmer, your face getting flushed.

"Are you sure?" Remus whispered on your mouth, you closed your eyes, and nodded "baby I don't want to hurt you" he repeated, his hands caressing you "Rem, I promise you, just go rough on me, please" you felt his breath stop for a second. His grip on your waist got immediately tighter as he took you by it and switched positions with you. Your breath hitched for the force of his grip.

You looked at him, he was grinning, his pupils blown up, making his hazel eyes look dark. "You have no idea of what you just got yourself into do you?" he said softly, his fingers trailing down your thighs. You bit your lip, excited, shaking in anticipation, slightly scared.

Before you could do anything Remus was unbuttoning your shirt with rushed fingers, tugging your skirt down. He sat up to admire your half naked figure, you blushed as his dark eyes wandered on you. You tried to take your socks off but Remus stopped you "these stays on" he grinned before crashing his lips onto yours.

He kissed you sloppily, roughly, while his skilled hands unclasped your bra and pulled it off. He kissed your neck, sucking the soft skin, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, your shoulders, your tits. He sucked them, making you whine in pleasure. He sat up again, looking at you.

"Look at you" he caressed your cheek "already so desperate for me" you blushed, covering your face, surprised by Remus' words, flustered. "Don't act like you don't like when I talk dirty to you" he continued, stroking your inner thigh "I know you baby" he said "I know you're a dirty little slut" you whimpered.

Remus forced your squirming legs open with his big hands. He moved your panties to the side, and unexpectedly shoved two finger inside of you, without warning, the pain was stingy, but it felt so good. You moaned loudly "oh baby, you're soaked" he cooed, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you "so tight" he mumbled, making you squirm.

"Don't you dare close those legs" he said, his tone suddenly authoritarian, making your guts fill with butterflies. He started to pick up his pace, going faster and faster, soft whimpers and moans started falling from your lips "you're such a desperate little slut" you moaned loudly "you like it huh? when I call you slut?" his fingers were rough, pumping through your wet folds "cause you know you are".

As he got impossibly faster, you started feeling your climax approach. You bucked your hips into Remus' fingers "what is it?" Remus reached for your chin with his hand, caressing your lower lip "are you gonna cum already, slut?" he said softly, his thumb pressed on your lower lip "open up for me baby", you whined, your mouth opening, sucking his thumb.

"Is that it? Cumming already?" you nodded desperately, your thighs squirming together "look at you, all desperate for me" the knot in your stomach started to tighten "a desperate little mess" he mumbled, his eyes wandering on you, his thumb pressing on your tongue.

Remus sighed "alright, cum for me, come on" you shivered, squirming again. Remus forced your legs open with his knee, pressing it on your thigh. You moaned obscenely "come on, come on, come on" Remus encouraged you, and as his thumb went to circle your clit that knot finally snapped, and a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your scream, your eyes rolled back.

"Oh baby, you're so hot" he cooed "throwing that head off, shaking for me" you whimpered, shaking slightly as you slowly came down from your high. You were still lightheaded and your legs were shaking. Remus tugged your panties dow , taking them off "these are soaked" he scoffed. You breathed heavily, your heart was pounding in your chest.

Remus sat on his knees again, and watched you shiver on the mattress, your naked body exposed, your socks the only thing remaining on you. Remus started caressing you, your stomach, your waist, your thighs and your arms. You looked at him, his gaze was soft. You reached for his hair, brushing them lightly.

Remus sighed, his lips curved into a grin "okay baby, open those legs for me" you looked at him confused, your legs still twitching from the orgasm "what?" Remus bit his lips, then he took his shirt off, and tugged his pants and boxer down, his hard dick springing out, swollen and red.

You watched him tower over you in a mixture of fear and excitement. Remus caressed your thighs slowly, then he gripped them with his hands, forcing them open. Your breath hitched, Remus ran his dick through your slick folds, collecting your arousal, making you twitch. "So sensitive still" he aligned his tip with your entrance. You whimpered when he got inside, his length filled you completely, making your knees weak.

He started slowly, your heart was pounding in your chest, your core was getting impossibly warmer, as he started to increase his pace, you couldn't help but moan loudly "you like that slut?" you whined, your hands covering your flustered face. Remus grabbed your wrists forcefully, restraining them over your head, making you unable to move.

"Don't you dare hide from me" a strangled moan fell from your lips, Remus grinned "look at you, breaking under me" he got faster and faster, as your legs started shaking in overstimulation "oh god" you whined. Remus scoffed "what, are you gonna cum again? already?" he teased, rolling his eyes condescendingly. You nodded "oh baby, you really are a desperate slut then"

You squirmed at his words "and you like being degraded" he grinned, his hand leaving your wrist to grab your tits, pinching your nipple, you whimpered, squirming again "you like that huh?" you bit your lip, he pinched it harder, you hissed "you're such a pain slut" you moaned, Remus' lips curved into a cocky grin.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he grabbed your thighs, pushing them to the sides of your body, your knees almost touching your ears, he kept pumping in and out of you viciously, you nodded "say please" he said, you looked at him half smiling, but he didn't look like he was joking.

He looked at you with lust-filled eyes, his hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty strands, you tried reaching for his hair, but he grabbed your wrist "nuh uh, you have to beg" you bit your lips, your cheeks were flushed, your heart was beating in your ears. "Come on, beg or I'm not making you cum" your breath hitched.

You sighed "p-please" you said, your voice slightly shaking "I can't hear you" "please" you repeated, "is that all you got? You don't really want to cum then" he said, his hand reaching down to your clit. As he started circling it sloppily, jolts of pleasure sent electricity down your spine.

You moaned again "I'm not making you cum if you don't beg" your head was spinning, and you didn't think you could resist any longer, so you just put the embarrassment aside and gave in "please, Rem, please let me cum" you cried, Remus scoffed "look at you, so desperate, all you care about is coming, all you care about is making a mess" "please, please Rem please" you whined, as tears started spilling from your eyes.

"Oh baby, are you gonna cry?" he cooed "you're pathetic" you whimpered, your lower lip was quivering, Remus sighed "you really are a pathetic mess" you couldn't resist anymore "Rem please!" you whined again, loudly, desperate. Remus rolled his eyes "alright, cum for me slut".

Those words were enough to send you over the edge. You came with a strangled moan, as a white wave of pleasure took over you. Your body was shaking uncontrollably, as Remus kept you in place, pumping in and out slowly, helping you come down from your high.

Your ears were ringing when you reopened your eyes. Remus was looking at you biting his lip, his eyes dark, dangerous, your heart skipped a beat, he looked almost menacing. You were trying to regulate your breath when Remus finally come out of you. He caressed your cheek, as his smile slowly shifted to a wolfish grin. He trailed his hands down your waist, then his grip tightened around it. "It's my turn now" he groaned, before flipping you on your stomach. Your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat, as Remus took you by the hips.

"Ass up for me" you were still shaken for the last orgasm, and you didn't know if you could handle another one "but Rem-" you tried to say "shut the fuck up" he interrupted you abruptly. He pressed his hand on your back, making you arch. "Be a good girl for me" he mumbled, aligning his cock with your entrance again.

He slide in with a loud groan, you whimpered, his length filling you up. "Oh god" you whined. Before you could even adjust, Remus was already pounding into you mercilessly. "Rem-oh my god" "I told you to shut the fuck up" he groaned again, pushing your head to the mattress with a hand.

He grabbed your wrist with the other, bending your arms behind your back, restraining you completely. "You're a desperate slut" he groaned, while pumping his dick in and out of you at a mind numbing pace. "You wanted to be treated like one? Here you go then" he said, groaning and whining.

You could hear the sound of his hips snapping into you again and again, without ever slowing down, without ever stopping. At that point you were a babbling mess, unable to form any coherent thoughts. "Say it" he groaned, tugging your hair.

He grabbed you by them, pulling you to his body. Your threw your head back, falling on his shoulder, your eyes were rolling in your skull, as he kept pounding into you. "Say you are my slut" "I'm your slut" you mumbled, barely able to form words. "Oh you're such a sloppy mess" he spewed, grabbing your face.

"I fucked you dumb huh?" he cooed, squeezing your cheeks together. You moaned, as drool started dripping from the sides of your mouth. "Jesus christ, look at that" he scoffed "I never saw such a desperate dirty little slut before" you whined.

Remus hand found your clit again, and when he started rubbing it you felt your mind going completely blank. At that point you were nothing more than a whining mess, blabbering whimpers and moans.

"Who would've thought, that I could fuck you into this desperate mindless little mess" you couldn't even respond anymore, as moans and whines were the only thing leaving your mouth. Remus got impossibly faster, in a way you couldn't even believe was possible.

Your ears were ringing, your body was shaking, as you limped on him, unable to even keep your eyes open. Tears started spilling from your eyes again, and as Remus became inhumanly faster and rougher you started crying in overstimulation, as you felt like your entire body was on fire.

"Rem-ohmygod" you sobbed, your eyes rolling back. "Oh fuck" he groaned, his grip around your wrists got tighter, your elbows were starting to hurt "oh fuck, oh fuck" he repeated. His circles on your clit became sloppy, and as you felt his body tense behind you, you finally let go.

And as he snapped his hips against you one last time, hard, Remus finally let go too, coming with a loud whine, as your mind went blank, and your entire body was washed by a wave of pleasure, your orgasm so intense that you saw stars, almost feeling like fainting.

You both fell on the bed breathless and drenched in sweat. You couldn't move, you felt so weak: your entire body was shaking, and your vision was only then slowly coming back. When you finally came down from the orgasm, you turned to look at Remus. He was a mess too, his hair shaggy and sweaty, his cheeks red, his breath heavy.

He turned to you too. You watched his hazel eyes light up as his lips curved into his sweet smile, that signature smile you knew to well, that smile that made you melt. You immediately felt your chest fill with warmth, as your cheeks blushed.

Remus brought a hand to your cheek, he dried your tears, brushed your hair from your face gently. "Was I too rough?" he asked, suddenly the Remus you knew was back. You couldn't help but smile. "You were perfect" you crashed your lips onto his. Remus laughed "you're the best" he said, his eyes filled with love, while tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You smiled, resting your head on his chest, hugging him tightly. "Oh baby" he mumbled, caressing your shoulder "I love you so much" he said, his tone making your heart flutter. He reached for the crumpled sheets from under him, covering your shaking body gently. He took you in his arms, caressing your messy hair softly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You fell asleep like this, feeling safe, feeling loved.

And when James and Sirius came back from practice they found you and Remus like that, in the tightest embrace, barely covered by the tangled sheets, drenched in the golden syrupy light of the late afternoon. They shook their heads laughing, elbow-bumping each other. But they didn't have the heart to wake you up, cause you guys looked so beautiful, so happy, and so in love.

[luveline]

hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 

It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 

He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 

He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 

“Dad?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dinner almost done?” 

Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 

“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 

Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 

Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 

“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 

You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 

“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 

“She might not like that.” 

Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 

You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 

“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 

Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 

Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 

Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 

He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 

She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 

He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 

You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 

Jack waves at her. She waves back. 

He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 

She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.

“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 

“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 

“Like crawling to walking.” 

Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 

Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 

“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 

“Is it weird?” 

“What?” 

Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 

“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 

“Like spit up.” 

“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 

“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 

Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 

You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 

Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 

You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 

“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 

You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 

“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.

You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 

“What for?” he asks. 

“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 

“To show her what?” 

“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 

It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 

“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 

[littlejoels]

"well hello"

request: hiiii!! saw ur baker fic & loved it was wondering if you could write teacher!fem!reader? like she’s one of the teachers in Jackson and ofc ellie’s in her class and ellie LOVES HER talks about her nonstop and bothers joel. one day at pick up he finally sees her and he definitely understands what all the hype’s about now. It can lead to smut or not whatever you want I love ur writing <333 word count: 1,3k warnings: +18 minors dni, too lazy to write more but there's smut and language!

it’s just past three, and your classroom still smelled faintly of chalk dust and damp wood. ellie was long gone, already bolted with a bounce in her step and a grin that cracked sideways when you reminded her that her essay on pre-fall governance systems still needed citations. you really liked her. she was smart-mouthed, whip-quick, a little feral in that lovable way if there was one.

you were gathering up worksheets into one neat stack when there’s a knock—barely even that, more like a hesitant tap. you look up, and there he is.

joel miller.

you’ve heard of him in bits and pieces, mostly ellie’s flippant mentions. "my old man," she says, or "joel says if you give me homework on a friday he’ll riot." the usual teenager noise. but you’d pictured someone rough, maybe grizzled, but the real thing? no one warned you about those bedroom eyes.

he’s leaning halfway into your doorframe, one hand braced against it like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to come in. you couldn't help but take him in; worn flannel, heavy shoulders. his gaze cuts across the room until it lands on you, then lingers like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“hey,” he says. voice like gravel, but still warm and apologetic. “uh..i’m here to pick up ellie.”

you blink, “oh, she left ten minutes ago. said she was heading home.”

joel blinks right back, slowly this time. you watch his mouth twitch, not quite a smile, more a grimace of regret. “of course she did.”

“she told me you’d come late,” you add, something about the way he stands there makes you want to offer him anything. a chair, coffee maybe.

he huffs out a breath, rubs a hand over the back of his neck, fingers catching in graying curls. “figures...guess she figured i’d just find my way here anyway.”

“and she was right,” you smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, tilting your head. “she’s clever like that.”

his eyes—brown, kind—settle on you again. longer this time. like maybe he’s taking his time to memorize you. your cardigan’s too big, sleeves pushed to your elbows and there’s a bit of pink and orange chalk on your fingers. he sees it all, catalogues it.

“you’re her teacher,” he says, not a question.

you nod, with a small smile. “mhm.. history.”

he nods too, but it’s faint, the air feels weirdly full all of a sudden. he shifts, and you catch the faint creak of leather from his belt. the man is solid. not just physically, though, lord, yeah, that too—but there’s something rooted in him.

“she talks about you,” he says, breaking the silence.“a lot.”

you swallow, “i hope it’s all good things.”

his mouth twitches again, and this time it’s definitely a smile, a crooked one but a smile nonetheless. “she says you’re smart. don’t take her shit. and that you swear sometimes when you’re grading papers.”

you laugh, nodding at the ellie's silliness. “that’s true.”

“she likes you.”

something about the way he says it makes your stomach do a little flip. the way his eyes don’t leave yours. how his voice drops on that last word—like he’s testing the water.

you could say something flirty here..something coy. but instead—

“do you want to get a drink sometime?” you blurt, then immediately feel heat crawl up your neck. “i mean, just, if you’re free..and want to.”

joel doesn’t blink, he just stares for a second at you; you could tell he was wondering if he heard you right.

“yes,” he says, so fast. “yes, i would love to.”

it was now saturday night at 7:00pm, and you were second-guessing all off it, thinking that you should've canceled.

you tell yourself it’s because of the cold—there’s a chill in the air but not threatening enough to cancel. it’s because you haven’t dated since coming to jackson.

but you show up to the bar anyway. it’s small, just off the main road. the smokey firewood smell clings to the ceiling beams, and old pre-fall songs hum low through restaurant speakers. joel was already there when you walked in, sitting at a corner table, hands curled around a glass of brown.

he stands when he sees you. such a gentleman.

“you came,” he says, and he looks so sincere about it your chest hurts.

“of course i did,” you say, sliding into the seat across from him.

he orders you a drink, and for the first few minutes it’s causal talk: ellie, school, the town, then it starts to slip into something else.

“you always this quiet?” you ask, teasing.

he raises a brow. “you always this bold?”

“bold? please...you should see me on parent-teacher night. i’m a badass.”

he chuckles and it’s soft and full of sweetness. it makes his whole face change. you sip your drink and watch the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“what about you?” you ask. “always this broody?”

joel leans back, one arm slung over the back of the booth. “only when i’m tryin’ to impress someone.”

“you think it's working?”

his eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up.

“yeah,” he says. “think it is.”

later, when the drinks are gone and the once big fire is now burning low, he walks you home. the streets are too quiet while snow comes down in soft flakes. his hand brushes yours once. then again, finally on the third, you just take it.

your fingers tangle easily, like they’ve been doing it forever. at your door, there’s a pause. his breath plumes in the cold. his eyes search yours, asking without words.

you don’t make him ask.

“you want to come in?”

“yeah,” he says again, that same voice, full and sure. “i’d love to.”

the door closes behind him, and it’s like the air shifts with warmth.

neither of you says anything for a second. his eyes are still on you, dark and lustful. you can feel the beat of your heart, too loud in your chest. his fingers twitch like he wants to touch you, but he's too hesitant.

so you take his hand again, lead him inside, past the coat hooks, into the living room. you turn to face him, suddenly unsure. “joel, i—”

he cuts you off by kissing you deeply. you open your mouth under his, and the kiss deepens even more. one of his hands cradles your face, the other grips your waist. he pulls you in as you moan into his mouth.

he groans low. “fuck,” he mutters against your lips. “you feel good.”

you thread your hands into his salt and pepper hair, dragging his mouth back to yours. you break for some air and he chases your mouth, kisses down your jaw, and your throat. his beard scrapes against your skin, making you wetter than before.

“bedroom,” you say.

he lifts his head, eyes blown wide. “you sure?”

“yes,” you breathe. “joel, yes, please.”

you don’t remember the walk to the room. it’s a complete blur, hands under shirts, skin on skin, maybe a bit of grinding.

he undresses you slow, like he’s afraid to rush it. and when he’s finally bare before you—he’s so large, scarred, and beautiful—you pull him down onto the bed.

“look at me,” you say.

he does as he slides into you, slowly and unhurried, one hand pressed to your cheek. the rhythm starts off slow. his breath catching on every thrust as your nails claw at his back. he kisses you and talks you through it. over and over.

“been thinkin’ about you,” he says, voice ragged. “since the first moment..couldn’t stop.”

“me too,” you whisper. “joel—don’t stop..please don’t stop.”

he fucks you so well and lovingly. God, you can't remember the last time you felt so good. and when you both cum, shaking and holding on to each other. you think to yourself, maybe jackson was a good move.

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @lowrisemiller