#ANYWAY.... just wanted to share how i got scalped with my mouth wide open filled with blood thank u for listening to my ted talk

[cinnaminsvga]

actual conversation i had with my dental hygienist

hygienist: so what did you study at university?

me: chemistry...

hygienist: damn, no wonder you look so sad!

[kiyoomeii]

strawberry shortcake / f!reader x l lawliet / wc: 1.5k

lake scene, knee deep in the stars / this simple season is all ours, yeah / “simple season” by hippo campus

a/n: for the past four days i’ve only been thinking about soft!l lawliet and how much i want to lay in his lap someone pls pay my bail from simp jail  also! ayy first one shot ig??

cw: the use of the word ‘shit’ three times, kissing, very self indulgent, no editing just grammarly lol

Today will be one of the few times you two have gone out together since L is meticulous about keeping his identity private, and you’re grateful for the change of scenery. Instead of being cooped up in his hotel of the week, you’re out wandering a botanical garden in Tokyo. Of course, Watari made all the arrangements for the park to be conveniently closed to the public that day, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

In your left hand is a wicker basket filled with food, and your right pinky looped around L’s left pinky. As you walk through the garden, the fresh smell of flowers fills your noses and the sunshine filters through the cumulus clouds, causing droplets of sweat to collect on your back.

With anyone else, such extended periods of silence would be uncomfortable, but with L, it feels like home.

You feel a tug of resistance on your pinky and turn back to see L engrossed in a flowering tree. “What’s that?” You join him in inspecting the tree, clutching his dangling arm tight to yours and resting your head on his hunched shoulders.

“It’s a Magnolia Stellata, or Star Magnolia. I’m surprised they’re still in bloom right now.” L makes no effort to explain himself, instead opting to put a finger to his lip.

“Because…?” With your head still on his shoulder, you look up at him expectantly. He often makes statements like that without explaining himself since he assumes that everyone else knows what he’s talking about. It used to bother you when you first met, but you’ve learned that it’s just because his mind is moving a hundred miles a minute. Now, you just ask him to elaborate, and it surprisingly doesn’t bother him. When other people ask him questions that he thinks are blatantly obvious, he grows annoyed but masks it in his voice by scrunching the toes of his left foot. But with you, he never does that. Instead, he’s patient and kind. You can see it in his eyes.

“Because they are particularly susceptible to frost damage and we had a handful of very cold days this March,” he answers coolly. Where he stores this knowledge about flowers native to Tokyo despite him being from England, you will never know, but you’re thankful for the information regardless.

“Oh, I see. Thank you," you sigh. Together, you stand marveling at the light pink flowers and feeling the breeze on your backs, which causes L’s hair to sweep over your face. He quickly brushes it away for you with his free hand.

“And don’t worry, y/n, it’s not wilting; the petals are just wavy like that.” He gently tugs his arm away from you to signal that he’d like to move on, and once you release him, he takes your hand in his and leads you through the garden.

It has taken L a while to become comfortable with you enough to initiate contact first, but you’re glad that he can now. When you first began dating, things were uncomfortably stiff. You have the habit of word vomiting any time there’s too long of a pause, and L has a habit of withdrawing into his thoughts, so the first few months of dating was just a lot of you oversharing and him just listening.

You didn’t actually think he was paying attention until one day you mentioned how as a child you carried around a stuffed animal, which you affectionately named Ollie the Otter, and lost it on holiday in the US with your family. Within just three days, he bought you the exact same version of your beloved childhood stuffie. You had long since grown out of your stuffed animal phase but were touched nonetheless that he put in the effort to find you the toy, proving that he cares about you in his own way.

Ollie Jr. now sits on L's bed, always tucked under his comforter as if it’s sleeping. Sometimes, though, when L is up late at night doing work, he will wedge the otter between his knees that are pulled up to his chest and rest his chin on it so that he can smell the traces of your perfume on it. He would never admit to it, but you’ve silently watched him work many times before to know that it wasn’t just a one-time occasion.

“Would you like to stop here, y/n?” L gestures to a patch of manicured grass under the shade of a cherry blossom tree.

“Sure. Will you help me lay out the blanket?” You untangle your fingers from him to open the picnic basket you have been carrying. Truthfully, you were relieved that he wanted to stop because the basket had become increasingly heavier throughout your walk. L nods and waits for you to give him an edge of the beige checkered linen blanket so that you can place it down on the grass. As soon as it’s laid out, L splays himself out on it and watches you unpack the food.

His mouth is nearly frothing at the sweets that you place at the edge of the blanket. “I know, I brought your favorite: strawberry shortcake,” you pause to look back at him with his mouth slightly agape. “But you gotta wait until everything’s ready.” Suddenly aware of himself,  L obediently closes his mouth.

At last, you sit across from L with a plate for you to share. L’s eyes grow wide as he reaches for a piece of cake until you swat it away. “Hey,” you coo in a sing-songy voice, “not so fast….” You take the fork out of his hand and cut off a small piece of cake as you feel L’s jet black eyes intensely study your movements. Silently, you lift the fork up towards L’s mouth. “Open,” you say sweetly, waiting for him to comply, which he does quickly. With a smile, you gently feed the cake to L and watch as he closes his eyes in bliss.

One part of L is telling him to be alarmed at the obvious loss of control he’s experiencing, but the other is telling him to relax and allow you to take control of the situation. As he quickly calculates the outcomes of each choice, he realizes that you’ll probably get your way anyway and that it’s no use to object. “’S it good, L?” He opens his eyes to see you watching him intently and nods. “Good, I’m glad. Now gimme a bite, will you?” A sly smile spreads across your face as you pass the other fork to him and wait for him to give you a piece.

The two of you pass some time taking bites of cake, feeding each other strawberries, and talking about random things—from the way L doesn’t like the way the grass pokes his skin to how you’re excited to finally be done with university in a few weeks. Finally, you lie down beside him and situate your head on his chest while his lean fingers languidly massage your scalp. Your breathing quickly syncs together and your chests rise and fall like waves lapping the shore.

“I’m glad we got to go out today. Thank you, y/n.” L picks up your hand resting on your belly and gives it a quick kiss. L had been working on a particularly difficult case for the past few months, which had just wrapped up, so the two of you hadn’t been able to see each other much lately.

“You’re welcome,” you rolled over onto your stomach to face L. “And thank you too. I know how hard it is for you to go into public, but I’m glad to know that you’d do it for me.” You watch as a quick smile paints L’s face, and at that moment, you feel your heart bursting with affection towards him.

“Of course I would, y/n, and I’d do it again, too.” His normally ivory-colored face flushed with color, causing him to turn away from you out of embarrassment.

“L?” He senses you staring at him and slowly meets your gaze again.

“Yes?” His onyx eyes catch yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he replies, not skipping a beat. You smile as you pepper a few kisses on his jawline towards his lips and when finally your lips meet, he presses into you more firmly than you expected. His technique is a little sloppy, but you know he’s trying. When he’s like this, trying to show you his affection instead of explaining it, he’s like a puppy who wants your attention, and who are you to refuse?

“L, I—" you say in between passionate kisses, “love you.” He immediately pulls away from you to study your facial expression. Oh shit oh shit oh shit maybe this wasn’t a good time I shouldn’t have—

“I love you, too.” He responds quickly, pulling you into another series of needy kisses.

With the whole park empty, you don’t have to hide your affection for each other, and oh, how you wish it could be like this all the time.

[roselarkiin]

Brettsey + 16 please!!

#16 "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"

When Matt told Sylvie they were invited to spend the weekend at Benny's cabin with Stella and Kelly, she envisioned a quiet, relaxing weekend. She didn't think it would take too much convincing for Matt to spend their time away massaging her aching back or rubbing her swollen feet. This could quite possibly be their last weekend before she gives birth to their second child, and they become a family of four. She wants to take full advantage of that.

Though, it's quickly turning out to be anything but relaxing.

First, the drive to the cabin with two three-year-olds had not been pleasant. The second they dropped out of cell phone range, and Daniel Tiger stopped playing on Sylvie's phone, all hell broke loose, and it was non stop tantrums from both kids until they arrived at their destination.

Then once they arrived and were settled, Matt and Kelly announced their plan to take Esme and Ellie fishing the following day. Sylvie knew it would not end well.

Though their husbands insisted it would be fine. They'd spend the day on the lake, in the small boat Kelly kept at the cabin, teach the girls to fish, and it would be fun.

Stella and Sylvie knew different.

As they're getting ready to leave, Matt asks Sylvie one last time if she's sure she doesn't want to come with them. And Sylvie just raises a brow at him, looks down at what she's wearing; one of Matt's oversized shirts, sweats, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Practically her uniform since starting maternity leave. It's comfortable, but it doesn't exactly give off wanting to spend a day on the lake vibes.

Because spending the next six hours on an already cramped boat with two toddlers while she's eight months pregnant does not sound like her idea of a good time.

Sylvie doesn't tell him that, though, doesn't want to ruin his visions of this perfect day he thinks he has planned with their daughter. While she's planning how best to deal with the inevitable fallout. So she just shakes her head and tells them to have fun as she kisses them goodbye.

Matt presses a kiss to her stomach, murmurs something she can't hear to the baby, and the baby tumbles in her belly. His eyes go wide, and he laughs, has this look of complete awe on his face. The same look he always gets, no matter how many times he feels their baby move. Esme mimics Matt, kisses her stomach, and then they're out the door.

After saying her goodbyes to her husband and daughter, Sylvie settles into the chair beside the fire and picks up the book she's reading. This is her plan for the weekend, to put her swollen feet up and do absolutely nothing.

Stella offers to keep her company, acts like it's such a chore in front of Kelly, having to stay with the pregnant woman instead of spending the day with her husband and daughter. Sylvie snickers though and rolls her eyes at her friend when Stella flops down onto the couch before the door to the cabin is even closed.

"I give it three hours before it all goes to hell," Stella says.

Sylvie snorts, not looking up from her book. "They aren't even going to make it to two."

"I'm willing to take that bet. Four weeks of Saturday night babysitting, no questions asked?"

"Deal."

They shake on it before settling into a comfortable silence.

Their peace and quiet is short lived. About two hours after the little fishing expedition started, the door to the cabin slams open, and in stamps Sylvie's furious three-year-old, followed by her very irate husband.

Esme throws her coat onto the ground and flings herself into Sylvie's arms, buries her face in her neck. Sylvie resists the urge to tell her husband she told him so. Sylvie's not sure what happened, but when Esme gets in a mood like this, she knows whatever it is, their child is not going to bend easily.

Severide follows behind Matt, a sleeping Ellie in his arms. Sylvie and Stella share a look.

So it went well all around then.

Stella sits up, makes room for Kelly to sit beside her. "How long did that take?" she asks, nodding at the sleeping toddler in his arms.

He chuckles and pats Ellie's back. "Took all of twenty minutes for the boat to rock her to sleep."

Sylvie runs a gentle hand through her daughter's hair, runs circles over the girl's back. "Oh, Ez. What happened?" she asks.

"Daddy yelled at me. He's not my best friend anymore!" Ez cries against her shoulder. In her little three-year-old mind, her daddy no longer being her best friend is the worst possible insult she can think of.

Sylvie's eyes flicker over to Matt, and she can tell their daughter's words landed and had their intended effect on him. She sees a flash of hurt in his eyes as he looks at Esme before it's replaced with irritation again.

She gives her husband a quizzical look. He's frustrated with whatever happened, but it's unlike him to lose his cool with Esme. He rarely raises his voice with her. Sylvie knows he worries that he'll lose control of his anger like his own father. And even with her assurances that it won't happen, he always makes a conscious effort to treat Esme with tenderness, even when she's in trouble.

"What happened?" she asks again, directs the question at Matt this time.

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose before pushing his hand through his hair. "Ez threw the rod into the lake," he growls, throws his hands in the air like he still doesn't believe it. "She announced she was done, and then she tossed it overboard!"

Sylvie has to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Cause, yeah, that is definitely something she can see Ez doing.

Severide nods in her direction, clearly just as entertained by the whole thing as she is. "I got it on video."

"Thank you," she mouths at him over the top of Esme's head, and Stella snorts. Kelly already has his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to his wife before she even has a chance to ask, knowing exactly what she wants. Sylvie needs to get him to send her that video right now.

"It was a brand new rod, Sylvie," Matt exclaims.

"And it was a sparkly purple kids rod that cost $40. She was probably only going to use it the once anyway. It's not going to break the bank, Matt. That's not what this is really about, is it?" She holds her hand out to him, gestures for him to come to her. Because she's got Ez in her lap, and she's eight months pregnant. She is not getting out of this chair if she doesn't have to.

He crosses the room, sits on the arm of the chair. Just like she knew he would. Sylvie slides her fingers into his hair, uses her nails to massage his scalp. She knows he was excited for today and that he's disappointed Ez didn't like fishing as much as he thought she would.

She sees his shoulders relax, and Matt leans his head into Sylvie's hand. "I just wanted today to go differently, that's all." Sylvie nods. There it is.

"I know you did," she says, places her hand on his back. "But, babe, Ez is three. She can barely sit through an episode of Paw Patrol without getting bored. Don't you think that you might have had unrealistic expectations of what she's capable of today?"

He presses a kiss into her hair, and she doesn't need to look at him or even hear him say it to know that the gesture is his way of admitting she's right. He moves to the other side of the chair, crouches down beside Esme's face, caresses her little cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you, Ez."

Esme whines then, shrugs Matt's hand off her cheek. She turns her head away from him, tries to burrow herself further into Sylvie, as much as her pregnant belly will allow anyway.

"Aww, come on, Ez Pez." Matt lets out a low chuckle, pokes her shoulder. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?" She nods against Sylvie's chest.

While Sylvie often finds herself thinking their daughter got the best of both her and Matt's personalities, it's times like this when she realizes they also passed on some of their worse qualities. Esme's tendency to be a little obstinate - okay, a lot - she gets from Matt (no matter what he says). The flair for the dramatics comes from Sylvie.

Sylvie brushes Ez's hair off her face. "Daddy can be silly sometimes, huh?" she whispers in her ear, and Esme nods. "Do you think maybe you should accept his apology?"

She scrunches up her face, looks over at Matt, and then back to Sylvie. "Do I have to?" she mumbles defiantly. Sylvie laughs, kisses her daughter's forehead, and reminds her to be kind.

"Do you think I can make it up to you?" Matt asks, and Esme just shrugs her little shoulders.

Matt pouts, and Sylvie can't help but roll her eyes at him. It's clear he's getting a little desperate when their daughter won't budge. Ez has always been such a daddy's girl that he doesn't know what to do with himself when she's angry at him and he's not the favorite. He hates it, and he's not against using bribery to win back their daughter's affection.

He tries again, gives it one last ditch effort to get her to forgive him. If this doesn't work, nothing will, and he'll just have to wait until Esme forgets about it. That usually takes a couple of hours, always filled with Matt's sulking, and then everything goes back to normal.

"Hey, Ez, what do you say we go for a drive into town? We can get some ice cream," he tries eagerly. Then, in an instant, Esme launches herself out of Sylvie's lap into Matt's arms. His arms fly up, wrap around her waist to catch her.

It's comical, really, just how fast she forgets that she's trying to stay mad at him.

"Can I get a really big one?" Esme asks, throwing her arms wide.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Matt says teasingly.

"Please, Daddy. Please," she begs, drags the words out in a long whiny way. She clasps her hands together under her chin and bats her eyes at him. She learned that from Sylvie.

"Okay, but don't tell mama," he whispers conspiratorially, winks at Sylvie over Esme's shoulder.

"If you're going out, could you bring me back some Oreos?" Sylvie asks, flashes him a bright smile.

Matt smiles back at her and places his hand on her stomach. "Baby craving?" Sylvie nods, covers his hand with her own. "What's the feel for today?"

Sylvie thinks for a moment before answering, "Boy."

"Nah, definitely another girl," Matt says. "What do you think, Ezzy? You're the tiebreaker. Are you getting a brother or a sister?"

"Sister!" she answers from Matt's arms.

"See, you're outnumbered. Definitely a girl."

Sylvie laughs and shakes her head. "If only it worked that way. Besides, that doesn't count!"

"Why?" Matt protests. "Just because Ez sides with me?"

"No, because last week she wanted the baby to be a puppy."

Matt laughs out loud at that. "Wouldn't that be something!"

Esme starts to get impatient, and she fidgets in Matt's arms. "Daddy, can we get ice cream now?"

Ellie lifts her head and chirps from Severide's lap, "I want ice cream."

"That you wake up for?" Severide gives Ellie an incredulous look, tickles her sides until she laughs. "Guess we're tagging along then."

"Matt?" Sylvie calls, just as he's almost out the door again. He turns back to look at her. "Can you get some pickles too? The round ones already cut for sandwiches?"

He makes a face like he knows what she's planning to do with the pickles and the Oreos. "If I have to watch you eat that, I'm going to be sick," he deadpans. He's guessed correctly.

"Don't watch then," she says, as if it's the most obvious answer, and she laughs at the disgusted look he sends her way.

[hellodeedles]

New Pillow

Rowan was absolutely drained. Work had been kicking his ass lately and his new boss was methodical and cruel in the amount of work he was piling on. Always demanding that he put more and more hours in at the office, hinting that if he met all of these new ridiculous requirements, he'd be in the running for the promotion he had been hoping for.

Tonight, Rowan had only left the office only an hour late, the earliest he had left in the last month. The only reason he did was because he brought his work computer home with him so he could continue once he was finally sitting on his own couch.

Home was once the only thing Rowan looked forward to. Now it wasn't anything like it had been. Aelin had moved in right before his new boss got to town and those first few weeks where they actually were able to spend more than a few minutes together to share a brief kiss and hello had been the best of his life.

Now however, he was constantly working late and Aelin was picking up overtime at the hospital saying that she didn't want to be home if Rowan wasn't there. Using the extra argument that they could use the extra money anyway.

Rowan walks up to the apartment door and sighs. He didn't look at the little calendar Aelin had posted on the fridge with all of her shifts before he ran out the door this morning and he couldn't remember if she was working today. If she was, it was too early for her to be back. Maybe he would be able to get some work done before she got home, and they would actually get to spend some time together that didn't involve the phrase "where are my keys?".

Rowan unlocks the door and to his surprise a cacophony of noise of falling pans and the smell of burning food floods his senses as soon as the door opens.

"Shit, shit, shit." Rowan hears Aelin say.

"Aelin?" Rowan asks, dropping his keys on the entry way table. "What's going on?"

Aelin who was standing in front of the stove turns to him eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Rowan! I didn't think you'd be home so early."

Rowan shrugs trying to see past her to the stove knowing it can't be good. "I brought work home with me. I had to get out of the office, I was losing my mind being shut up in there."

"Oh," she says taking a too casual step to hide more of the stove from view.

"Still doesn't answer my question though," he says a slight smile on his face as he realizes what she's doing.

"And what question would that be?"

"What's going on here?"

"Absolutely nothing you need to be worried about?"

Really now?" He asks a full smile breaking through, the thoughts of the amount of work he had to still do tonight disappearing from his mind. "It smells like I should be worried."

"Well you don't, so just go and mind your own business elsewhere." Aelin says turning her back to him to face the stove. "I have everything under control."

"Uh, huh." He says walking up to stand behind her to get a better view of the disaster that he knows is going on.

"I do," she glares at him over her shoulder. "Now go change and leave it to me. I know exactly what I am doing."

Holding back a chuckle Rowan just kisses Aelins cheek and makes his way to their bedroom to change. He knows that there is no stopping her once she has set her mind to things.

Rowan has just slipped off his dress shirt when he hears, "Oh fuck," come from the kitchen. He stops what he's doing and runs out to the kitchen to make sure that there's no fire. He wouldn't put it past Aelin to accidentally set fire to a pan again.

"What happened?" He asks quickly scanning the stove to make sure everything is still intact.

Aelin looks over at him, silver misting her eyes. "I screwed up, I thought I could make dinner for you because you've been working so hard and you're busy all of the time. I know your boss is stressing you out with the promotion and everything. I just wanted you to have a nice home cooked meal to come home to and I messed it up so bad it'll probably kill you if you eat it." Rowans heart swells at her words. Even though Aelin is overworking herself she too she notices how run down he's been and she's trying to make it better.

"Fireheart," Rowan says opening his arms to her. Aelin rushes to him nuzzling her face into his bare chest. "I love you, you know that right." She nods and Rowan kisses her head. "But for the love of the gods you cannot cook even if it was to save your own life."

Aelin gives him a sad chuckle as her response. "What do you say to me cleaning this whole mess up and ordering delivery from Emmrys?" Rowan asks.

Aelin nods looking up at him. "I'll help you, it was my mess to begin with."

The two of them begin to clean the kitchen, Rowan smiling all through it even though it looks like Aelin has ruined yet another pan. Rowan goes to finished changing once the kitchen is clean and their delivery arrives quickly after that. The two of them take their respective meals over to the couch not having the energy to set the table.

"Tell me how work has been," Aelin says between bites. "All I really know is that you keep staying late at the office."

Rowan shrugs. "Basically, the boss did some reshuffling of roles and it looks like I am currently doing all the work I was doing before plus the work of someone who used to be working on the same project as me but got pushed to a different one."

"But that's not fair. He's going to run you ragged Rowan, you loved this job when you started, I would hate for you to lose that."

"I know," Rowan says looking down at his food. "Truth is I don't know what to do about it. I know I can't keep going on like this. My boss says he's planning on hiring someone else to fill the role, but I don't know how true that is."

Aelin pursed her lips in a way that told him she knew exactly what he could do but instead she held her tongue. That was one of the things Rowan loved most about Aelin. She was hotheaded and had a wicked mouth where she would say whatever the hell she wanted but when it really came down to it, she always let Rowan come to his own decisions. She let him use her as more of soundboard for his own thoughts knowing how tangled they could get inside his head.

Rowan moves his food to the coffee table and puts his head in his hands. He really doesn't know what to do about his job and he says as much to Aelin.

"Oh, Rowan," she says, moving her own food out of the way. "Come here." She pulls him so they're both laying on the couch, Rowan on top of her with his head resting on her chest. The two of them don't really fit on the couch like this but right now Rowan doesn't think that there could be a position that is more comfortable in the world right now.

He signs in content as Aelin begins to comb her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp.

"You know," she begins after a few minutes. "You don't have to make a decision tonight. You can just think about keeping your options open so if it gets to the point where you don't think you can take anymore you're not starting from scratch."

Rowan grumbles something that he thinks sounds like an agreement and nudges Aelins hand with his head to get her to continue to play with his hair.

Aelin laughs. "You're no better than a house cat," but she continues anyway.

"I like this," Rowan says turning his head and nuzzling his face into her chest.

"What using my boobs as a pillow?"

"Yes. I think I am going to use you as my new pillow from now on."

Aelins laugh is bright and joyous. Rowan doesn't think he realized until this moment just how much he missed her.

Turning his head up to hers he says letting all of his emotions be visible on his face, "I love you Aelin, to whatever end."

She looks at him, fire burning in her turquoise eyes as she says, "I love you too Rowan, to whatever end."

Reaching up to kiss her, butterflies fill his heart and Rowan thinks he falls in love with her just a little bit more, reaffirming his decision about the little box he has tucked away in his dresser for her.

~~~

@live-the-fangirl-life

[psychedelic-ink]

all i want for christmas is you.

This is my entry for @quirkyseastone​ ‘s Naughty and Nice evet! Of course I went with a naughty prompt xD This was a fun one to write... 

Prompt: Person A surprises Person B with one more gift to unwrap—Person A wearing something quite tempting to rip off.

Pairing: Sanji Vinsmoke x fem!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut

Word Count: 1892 k

Warnings: Pegging, femdom, sexy lingerie, fingering

You weren’t expecting much when you entered your shared bedroom. Frankly you were excited to enjoy a nice cup of hot cocoa with everyone else therefore when Sanji asked you to meet him in twenty minutes you couldn’t help but frown. But you complied anyway, you couldn’t say no to his adorable face, especially not on Christmas eve. 

Placing your hand gently on the door knob, you turned it and opened the wooden door with a creak. When you saw him, your jaw fell to the ground, your eyes widened with shock. 

Sanji, his legs spread, was laying on the bed, his private parts barely covered with the red thong that he was wearing. His back was pressed against the wall, one hand was on his mouth as the other was on his semi-erect cock, rubbing himself over the smooth red cloth. His cheeks were a bright red and you could hear soft moans slipping from his lips. 

Quickly you stepped inside and closed the door. When Sanji saw you he removed his hand from his mouth and gave you a nervous smile, still rubbing himself, he spread his legs further. 

“Surprise…” 

Your lips felt incredibly dry as you continued to stare at him, moving towards the bed you noticed that his chest was covered with a comically large red bow, it covered his nipples and breasts. You licked your lips as you felt something starting to stir up inside of you, your palms itched at the thought of untying the bow and revealing his chest. 

“Sanji what are you doing?” you asked, your breath feeling heavy. 

“Well, you always say that you wanted to try...something else with you know….” he averted his eyes as you raised an eyebrow. “You know the thing.” 

Oh...he means the strap on. 

A wide smile spread across your lips, you climbed on top of the bed and it dipped under your weight. Between Sanji’s legs you put your arms each side of his chest and looked down on him, you could feel him heating up under your gaze, you couldn’t believe that he was allowing you to do such a thing. He was such a people pleaser. 

You leaned in and softly placed your lips onto his flushed cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses you went down towards his neck, Sanji bit his bottom lip and involuntarily his hips bucked up, you could feel his hand still rubbing himself under you. It was intoxicating really, seeing the person that made you scream his name over and over again being so submissive. 

You could get used to seeing this side of him. 

“You look so sexy in that lingerie,” you whispered, your breath ghosting over his warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.” 

You hear him let out a nervous, breathy, chuckle. 

“Well it is christmas after all,” you feel his fingers on your chin and he lifts your head up so you could look at him. “Besides I would do anything for you.” 

You shivered at his words and he noticed, with a smile, he lifted himself up and gave you a small kiss on the lips. 

“Are you going to just stare at me all night or are you going to fuck me already?” he teased. 

“Famous last words.” 

Quickly you hopped off of bed and put on the strap on, size wise it was smaller than Sanji so you were positive that he would be fine, you grabbed the bottle of lube and climbed on top of the bed once again. Sanji was on his knees now, his eyes went between you and the strap on. With a devilish smirk you came closer to him, your lips an inch away from his face, the tip of the strap on touched his abdomen. Gently you touched the ends of the bow with your fingers, slowly you pulled it, the red cloth gently slid down his body, revealing his pecks. 

“You remember the safe word right?” you asked as you tongue danced along his skin, traveling down towards his packs. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“What is it?”

“Creme brulee.” 

“Good.” 

With one hand you start to toy with one nipple as you sucked the other one. Sanji placed his hand on your head and his nails gently grazed your scalp, soft shines left his lips as your tongue went in circles around the erect nipple. You pulled,pinch and rolled his nip between your fingers, you were pleased with yourself as his moans gradually became louder, he truly has sensitive nipples. 

“Ahh...y/n…” 

With a pop you let go of his nipple, one last time you give him a questioning look, asking him if he was sure. Hi cheeks a soft shade of pink, he looked away as he nodded. Before you could say anything Sanji turned around and got on all fours, lifting his ass up in the air he buried his face into the pillow. 

You pulled the red thong down and opened the bottle of lube. You poured the cold substance on your hand and on his ass, he hissed when it touched his warm skin. Spreading the lube across your fingers, you started to massage his hole, slowly you pushed in two fingers. It was tight, soft muffled whimpers left Sanji as you waited for him to adjust, then you pushed a little bit more. You didn’t want to rush and hurt him so you continued at the same pace, stopping and pushing, inch by inch your two fingers went deeper inside him. 

When they were completely sheathed inside, you slouched over him and left open mouthed kisses all over his back, you could feel him relax as your lips danced along his warm skin. 

“Are you okay?” you muttered. 

“Yeah. Go on.” 

With two nimble fingers inside of him, scissoring and stretching him open, you massaged his walls. You could feel him twitching around you, With your free hand you grabbed his cock. It was ridiculously hard as you massaged up and down, his muffled moans grew louder as you pressed his slit with your thumb. Starting to feel better about yourself, you slowly start to thrust your fingers in and out of him, continuing to go up and down his erection with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with his prostate you could feel your fingers becoming stickier with each move. 

Your breathing became heavier, your heart pounding in your chest, your arousal grew. You nibbled Sanji’s back, you wanted him, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to hear him repeating your name over and over again. 

You wanted him to quiver underneath you. 

“Sanji,” you breathed out. “I want to put it in.” 

Silence followed. 

“Sanji,” you said again, this time a bit louder. “Tell me you want this.” 

“I do,” he replied, faint as a whisper. “I want you to fuck me y/n.” 

You placed one last kiss on his hip bone before pulling out your fingers, straightening up you poured a generous amount of lube on the plastic cock, aligning it with Sanji’s hole you pushed in the tip. When a pained groan reached your ears you immediately stopped. 

“Go on,” Sanji grunted. “It’s just a bit bigger than your fingers.” 

Inch by inch the dildo disappeared into him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, when it completely disappeared you placed your hands on Sanji’s back and stroked him. 

“How do you feel?” you asked, arousal and genuine concern lacing your words

“It hurts a bit but I feel good.” 

Those were all the words you wanted to hear. Pulling your hips back half way, you snapped them forward. A scream of pleasure echoed inside the room as Sanji’s back arched up, his face finally free from the pillow. 

His voice turned you on further, your hands squeezing his hips,  you started to gain speed as you continued to thrust into him, his back formed a perfect arc, he looked so beautiful and his sweet moans were music to your ears. 

“Sanji, I want to see you fa-” 

“No.” his answer was short and straight to the point. 

“Why?” you asked, slowing down. “Don’t you feel good?” 

“I do...it’s just...embarrassing.” 

A soft smile formed on your lips, he was so cute. Slowly rolling your hips, you bit your bottom lip as another moan was torn away from him. 

“Please,” you asked again. “I want to see the man I love.” 

Silence fell only for a moment before Sanji turned to lay on his back instead, he still would look at you, his cheeks beet red. You gently placed you hand on his cheek and caressed his burning skin with your thumb, leaning in you placed your lips over his. It was meant to be a kiss to calm him down, a sign that he could trust you. 

But apparently Sanji had other plans. 

Sanji captured your lips in a greedy kiss, sliding his tongue into your warm mouth, he licked and sucked on your warm muscle, you moaned into the kiss as he continued to explore your mouth. Again, you started to move your hips, cutting his exploration short, Sanji broke away from you as he mewled. 

“Fuck,” he grunted between gritted teeth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Licking your lips, your thrust became harder, faster and more calculated. You searched for a certain spot, a button, you slightly changed the angle of your hips and slammed into him. 

“AH! Y/N!” 

Found it. 

Hitting the bundle of nerves over and over you slammed your hips into him. Sanji shouted your name as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face, his blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips parted a mixture of moans and your name slipping from them and his cheeks a bright red. Truly a sight for sore eyes. 

“Fuck, Sanji.” you moaned out, crashing his lips into his. 

The lewd noises of you slamming into him filled the room, your tongues dancing along each other, his cock bouncing between the two of you, wetting you both with precum. Then Sanji parted from you, your lips connected by a single string of saliva, he gaze at you between half lidded eyes. 

“I’m going to cum.” he breathed out. 

His back arched off the bed as his orgasm hit him full-force. He was barely aware of his body, he could only feel  the overwhelming sensation washing over him; it was warm and delicious. His toes curled as he pulled you closer to him, warm thick strings of cum shooting all over your stomach, slowly you pulled out of him. You were breathless, as Sanji came down from his high. 

He fell back onto the bed, pulling you along with him, he was still trying to catch his breath as he buried his face into your hair. 

“That was...amazing.” he said, his voice low. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you chuckled. “I would like to do that again.” 

“Not soon I hope,” he placed a kiss on your head. “I’m probably going to be sore for a while.” 

“Awww.” you pouted. 

“Don’t worry,” Sanji laughed. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be able to take care of you my love.” 

“My hero.” 

[spencers-renaissance]

baby, you’re my new years’ eve

Summary: You and Emily are hosting a New Years’ Eve party for all of your friends, but she’s acting a little weird. You finally find out why when the clock strikes midnight.

Tags: fluff, nye fic, proposal, getting engaged, domesticity, romance, flirting, day in the life 

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

It’s almost 10am by the time you get back from your morning errands, laden with bags and a dusting of snow decorating your coat. You shrug out of your coat and scarf, peel off your gloves, and kick off your boots as you venture further into the house you share with your girlfriend, a warm safe haven from the frozen wind outside. All the Christmas lights the two of you had put up together a few weeks ago are turned on, and the warm and happy feeling settling in your chest only intensifies when you shoulder the kitchen door open to see Emily awake and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

“You’re up,” you smile, knowing that Emily likes a lie-in on her days off, and she damn well deserves it, too.

“You’re back,” she echoes, a matching bright smile lighting up her face. She’s still in her pyjamas, a dressing gown thrown around her shoulders, and her hair has been let down from its bun, a slight curl to it after having slept with it up. She looks absolutely beautiful, naturally.

“I am.” You walk further into the room and put your bags down on the kitchen counter, beginning to unpack them. “I picked up some stuff for the party tonight, but I also got you breakfast.” You grab a plate from the cupboard and load it up with the pastries you’d bought from the local bakery, sold to you by the baker who knows both you and Emily by name.

“Oh,” she gasps in delight. “Have I told you lately I love you?” She reaches eagerly for the plate to place it on the table before reaching around for a kiss.

“You have,” you confirm, amused, “you tell me every day, Em.”

“Because it’s true,” she nods with wide eyes through a mouthful of almond croissant.

Laughing, you grab yourself a plate and a few pastries before joining Emily at the table. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm, it was a bit broken,” she admits, not quite meeting your eye for some reason. “But I made up for it with a little lie-in this morning.” Emily never sleeps badly at home. She’s always said that sleeping in her own bed with you wrapped around her is the best sleeping tablet she’s ever tried, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say sympathetically. “You could always have a nap early this afternoon. Need to be in the best shape for partying the night away.”

“Yeah, I might do,” she says, looking back up at you. “If I start to feel tired I’ll try and sleep. Anyway, how did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Like a baby,” you smile. “Woke up early so I thought I’d beat the New Years’ Eve rush to buy up the rest of the snacks. Plus, pastries for breakfast… can’t beat that.”

“You definitely can’t,” Emily says, a smudge of icing on her lip. “Thank you for doing that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, leaning over to wipe the icing off with your thumb, kissing her for good measure. “Icing,” you explain with a grin as you pull away.

“Ah,” she says knowingly, winking at you before leaning back in for another kiss. “Right, come on. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get on with the day.”

The rest of the morning is spent in the kitchen. You’d decided that as much of the food on offer at the New Years’ party the two of you had planned should be homemade as possible, which meant a fridge full of baked goods you’d already prepared but a short list of items that still needed to be made. It was a bit of an undertaking, but it kept you busy. Despite having known the rest of the BAU for years and having been fully incorporated into their family, you still get nervous before each gathering. Being surrounded by powerful, smart, successful FBI agents was always going to be intimidating, no matter how much you considered them your friends.

“Emily, please don’t stick your finger into the butter and then plunge it into the sugar,” you sigh, a little exasperated as your girlfriend shoves her greasy finger into her mouth for the third time.

“What?” she asks, pretending to be insulted. “It tastes good.”

“Yeah, it’s also not very hygienic,” you point out, rolling out the cookie dough.

“Oh, please, what’s a bit of my saliva when you kiss me everyday anyway?” she asks.

“Well, I might think that,” you reason, “but I’m not sure our guests will. Unless you’ve been running around kissing them, too?” You point your rolling pin at her accusatorily as you wait for her response.

“No!” she cries, kissing you in promise of her devotion. “I only have eyes for you, baby. By the way is it too early to have a glass of wine?”

You roll your eyes at that, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a fond laugh. “It’s 11am Emily,” you giggle. “What’s got into you this morning?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I’m just… excited for the party later.”

“Hmm, okay,” you say dubiously, raising an amused eyebrow in her direction. “In that case, you get started on the samosas. Fry up the filling I prepared and roll out the pastry for me? Then all we need to do is put the chips in later on and set it all up.”

“Anything for you, baby,” she smiles, kissing your cheek before getting on with her assignment.

You work together with your ‘happy’ playlist playing over the kitchen speakers for the next hour and a bit to get all the food ready, and by the time the samosas are being fried, you’re both in desperate need of a sit down. “Right, let’s order something to eat and watch an episode or three of Parks and Rec before we need to get ready and set up, how does that sound?” Emily asks as you both begin the mammoth task of cleaning up the bombsite of a kitchen.

“I don’t know, Em, we have so much food in the fridge,” you say, worrying your lip at the decision.

“Yeah, but it’s all for the party tonight, you don’t want to eat it now,” she says, reaching for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Come on, we’ll tidy up afterwards. I’ll order in some UberEats and we’ll relax for a little while. We deserve it after all this.”

“Okay,” you relent, offering her a grateful smile and letting yourself be guided to the sofa by Emily’s hand.

“You’ve done an amazing job at making all this food, sweetheart,” she says warmly, running a hand through your hair. “You should rest for a bit now so you can properly enjoy tonight, yeah?” She tucks a blanket around you and hands you the remote before she pulls out her phone to order you both some lunch.

Sandwiches eaten and two extra coffees polished off, you get started on setting up the house for the party. The leftover decorations from Christmas make the house bright and pretty enough, so it’s fairly easy to make the house look welcoming, but you still have to sort out the food and drink, move the furniture, and put away the valuables. Not to mention getting yourselves ready.

“Everyone’s arriving at 8, right babe?” Emily calls from the kitchen as you move the coffee table to the side in the living right.

“That’s right,” you call back. “But Spencer and Penelope will probably be here early.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Emily says, walking into the living room and leaning against the doorframe as you finish pushing the table aside to make the room more accessible.

“Does this look okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips as you survey your living room.

“It looks great, baby,” Emily reassures you, pushing off the door and pulling you into a side hug as you both look at the decorated room. “The Christmas tree is still up which makes the whole room look lovely, and the New Year banner is nice, too. It’s absolutely perfect for what we need it to do.”

“Okay,” you agree, turning to the side to press your face into her neck, kissing her briefly before pulling away again. “Let’s tidy away the expensive stuff and then go and get ready, yeah?”

“Y/N, there are like 15 people coming and nobody’s gonna get off their tits; we don’t really need to put this stuff away,” she promises, but it’s to no avail.

“Well, I’d rather be safe. Even tipsy people can do some damage,” you point out, putting Emily’s mother’s vase in the cabinet along with a few decorations from the mantle.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, heading into the kitchen to continue tidying up after your earlier cooking adventures. You join her a moment later and the two of you work quickly to do the washing up, tidy the counter, and put the dishwasher on. You’re soon looking at a spick and span kitchen, nearly party-ready, and you smile at your girlfriend in satisfaction. “Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” she smiles back at you.

“It does indeed,” you nod. “It’s only 4. You wanna sit down for a bit before getting ready?”

“Absolutely I do,” she says. “Wanna nap with me?”

“Please,” you sigh, grabbing her hand to lead her down to your bedroom. The two of you ditch the trousers and bury under the covers, setting a timer for an hour before promptly falling asleep.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Emily asks as you both stand under the hot jet of water. Your favourite part of moving in with Emily was definitely the shower; you’d moved from a flat with a from a tiny bath and shower combo unit to a beautiful house on the outskirts of DC with a large walk-in shower and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced; it was quite the upgrade.

“Only if I get to do yours afterwards,” you grin, leaning in for a rather wet and soapy kiss.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, spinning you round and pouring a generous dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathering up your hair as she massages her fingers into your scalp in a delicious massage. You can’t help but lean into the touch, just as you always do with Emily, making her chuckle fondly. “Feel good?”

You just let out a happy moan in response, sighing as the water washes the shampoo away and Emily quickly applies some conditioner. “Your turn,” you say, doing the same for your girlfriend as she sighs appreciatively.

You both shave your legs and underarms quickly before finishing up in the shower and towelling off next to one another in the spacious bathroom. “Right, it’s 5.30,” you say, checking your phone while Emily wraps her hair up, “so we’ve got like… two hours, probably, until Pen and Spencer show up.”

“Plenty of time,” Emily says breezily, waving her hand in your direction as you open the bathroom window to air out the humidity.

“Still, better to be early rather than late,” you say pointedly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her away from her perch by the radiator and into the bedroom.

She hums as she drops her towel and peruses her wardrobe. When she turns back around with the dress she plans on wearing, you don’t bother to hide your blatant appreciation. After all these years you’re still somehow blown away with how sexy Emily manages to be. “Naughty girl,” she gasps in mock admonishment. “We don’t have time for that. Your words not mine.”

“Life’s tough,” you sigh heavily, walking over and squeezing her ass lightly, taking great pleasure in making her jump as you pull out the dress you’d decided on earlier in the week. “What do you think?” you ask her.

“It will look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” she promises, kissing your cheek. She passes you your bathrobe and pulls her own on as you both head to your adjoining dressing tables to sort out your hair. “Straight or curly?”

“Hmm, straight, I think,” you reply, “you know I love your natural hair. I’m gonna go curly though, so we’ll compliment each other perfectly.”

You put on some music and get ready together in tandem, and it goes about as simply as it can when Emily’s involved. You only have three make-up brushes chucked at you and her desk isn’t a total disgrace by the time you’re finished, so you take it as a win. It’s just gone 7 by the time you’re both dressed up to the nines and ready for the party.

“You look… breathtaking,” Emily says dreamily as she drinks you in, kissing you gently so as not to smudge either of your lipsticks.

“Thanks, Em,” you say shyly. “You look absolutely beautiful, too.” She’s wearing a gorgeous full-length black dress with a deep v neck line and a slit in the right leg. She’s a vision next to your colourful outfit and bright makeup, always complementing one another in just the right ways.

“Right, well, if we both look amazing, it’s time to set out the food, isn’t it?” she asks, winking at you as she leads the way out to the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind you to prevent any stray party guests from wandering in.

The next hour passes quickly and soon guests are spilling through the door, brightening the whole house with their chatter and laughter, getting started on the wine and party food. Emily is marginally quieter than usual, but you brush it up to her just being tired, especially when she’s roped into a conversation with Hotch and Rossi and immediately perks up.

The whole of the BAU team is here, along with your best friends and the few Couple Friends you and Emily had made over the last few years that made you both feel far too grown up and sophisticated. Your friends quickly mingle in with the rest of the guests, though, which was your biggest worry, so with that relief you let yourself relax and enjoy the party.

Spencer and Penelope snag you into a conversation, plying you with champagne and the samosas you’d made with Emily earlier until you properly let go and enjoy yourself. “Wait, Emily made these?” Spencer asks, slightly incredulous at the idea of his most chaotic friend being even somewhat capable in the kitchen.

“She was supervised, don’t worry,” you laugh, biting into one delicious samosa after another.

“I wish I could cook,” Spencer says as he accepts another one from Penelope’s proffered plate.

“Aw, I’ll teach you baby genius,” Penelope grins. “But I once watched you try and put a croissant in the toaster, so you may be a lost cause.”

“Hey, that was when I’d first joined the BAU,” Spencer protests. “It was the first time I had a salary and could afford such luxuries, you can’t blame me for not knowing what to do with it.” His defenses fall on deaf ears, though, as you and Penelope laugh loudly at his expense. “Derek will defend me,” he eventually mutters before running off to find his boyfriend.

You and Penelope chat easily for a while, introducing her to a few of your friends as you orbit around the downstairs of your house. Eventually, you cross paths with Emily again, who still looks a little tense and quiet. “Hey,” you say, catching her arm and subtly drawing her to the side. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, plastering on a smile you know is fake. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just enjoy the party, okay? We’ll talk later.”

You can’t really enjoy the party when the back of your mind is continually worrying about your girlfriend, but you’re able to circle around the house a few more times, chatting with all of your guests as everyone tucks into the alcohol and food. Before you know it it’s nearing midnight and Emily’s in the corner of the kitchen having a serious-looking conversation with Hotch.

Tentatively approaching, you tap Emily on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gonna watch the ball drop in the living room,” you say. “You coming?” You try and smile as encouragingly as possible, taking her soft hand in yours.

“Yeah,” she says, looking a little flustered and you can see a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, “yeah, of course, baby. Let’s go.” She hands her glass of champagne to Hotch in a sort of weird gesture that has you furrowing her eyebrows, but nevertheless she grips your hand firmly and you swan into the living room which is already housing most of the guests, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. The sight of so many people you love and adore has you smiling warmly, and you press your arm up against Emily’s, resting your head on her shoulder as the 2 minute countdown begins.

“I love you so much, you know,” you whisper, just for her to hear in the loud, excited room. “I can’t wait to spend a whole other year together. I feel so lucky to have you.”

She moves her neck slightly causing you to lift your head and you’re met with a happy, excited smile, all traces of the nervous Emily that had been swanning around the party all night disappeared. “I feel even luckier to have you, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”

You both lean in for a kiss which is quickly interrupted by Derek. “Bit early, ladies,” he calls across the room, “it’s not midnight yet.” He’s got Spencer curled up under his arm on the sofa, resting comfortably next to JJ and Penelope who have also cuddled up together. Hotch and Rossi are standing by the Christmas tree rolling their eyes fondly at their agents.

Emily responds with a purposeful middle finger and a well-practiced sneer, but Derek can’t reply because soon the room fills with a swell of noise as everyone starts to count down.

Everyone cheers as the new year is rung in, but as you turn to kiss Emily, you’re instead faced with her on one knee, offering an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. You gasp loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and everyone stops their celebration as a happy, expectant hush falls on the room, the TV’s celebration the only sound.

“Y/N, I can’t express how much I love you,” Emily starts, voice confident but you can hear the undercurrent of emotion written all over it. “All I want to do for the rest of my life is be with you. Ring in each new year with you, celebrate every Christmas with you, come home from every hard case to you, eat pastry for breakfast with you. You’re all I need to be happy, and you’d make me impossibly happier if you’d do me the honour of being my wife. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my God,” you reply tearfully as soon as she’s finished, tears spilling down your face as she carefully pushes the ring onto your finger and stands up to hug you. Everyone around you is clapping and cheering and celebrating your love but your whole world is shrunk down to the two of you, Emily’s hands on your lower back, her ring on your finger, the press of her body up against yours.

Eventually though, you pull away and kiss her, turning to face your guests with the happiest smile on your face. Hotch is smiling proudly and all the events of the evening slip into place, so you turn to kiss Emily on the cheek fondly. Penelope is crying, naturally, as are most of your friends and everyone crowds round in excitement, congratulating the two of you.

When you finally get a bit of space later in the night, you ask Emily where she’d kept the ring all evening.

“In my bra,” she answers, grinning widely.

“God, how did I not guess that,” you smile fondly, rolling your eyes. You kiss her anyway, though, because she’s hot and you’re very much in love.

“I’m so fucking happy you said yes,” she whispers, keeping her head pressed closely to yours.

“Did you seriously think I would ever say anything else?” you ask, surprised that Emily could possibly think you’d say no.

“Well, I obviously had a feeling,” she admits. “But you can’t help but feel fearful of the tiny probability you’re wrong.”

“Well I didn’t,” you say happily, leaning forward slightly to kiss her softly on the nose.

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replies, gripping her hand. “I seriously love you so much, Y/N.”

“And I seriously love you so much, Emily,” you grin. “I can’t wait to call you my wife, but I’m dead happy with fiancée. That will definitely suffice for now.”

The guests slowly trickle out as the hours tick on, eager to leave the newly engaged couple to themselves. Penelope and Spencer make you promise to have a catch-up brunch in the next few weeks to which you eagerly agree, and Hotch and Rossi both congratulate you like they’re both you and Emily’s dads. Derek gives you both massive hugs and JJ follows up with much gentler hugs and congratulations.

“Tidy up in the morning?” you propose, making Emily’s eyebrows shoot up; you usually insist on tidying up there and then, but she quickly understands as you start to unzip your dress and walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“Tidy up in the morning, indeed,” she agrees, running after you.

“My fiancée,” you sigh happily as you enter your cosy bedroom, pausing to kiss Emily softly.

“Your fiancée,” Emily agrees with a wide grin gracing her lips, leading you to the bed as you both start off this next exciting chapter of your lives together in the most appropriate way you can imagine.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[angleicblossom]

Levi Ackerman One shot <3

im so so so sorry its this long i got totally carried away 

More soft Levi x sad oc because I feel the need to project my own feelings into a situation that will never really happen 😊.

Another day of training finished at around 7pm, I slowly made my way into the mess hall to have a meal before heading to bed, not like I was very hungry anyways.

These last few weeks, maybe months, I hadn't been feeling myself, not like I was a very outgoing person to begin with, but I at least tried to socialise with the others but now it feels like a chore so now I don’t even bother, I just wake up go through with my day, eat if I can and then sleep and recently it's been making me frustrated with myself causing me to snap more than I usually do during training and I think people are starting to notice.

As one of the first I was able to grab a plate with food on it quickly and slide into the end of one of the benches in the bottom corner. I picked around at the meat, vegetables and potatoes moving it around a little, not really having an appetite. A few people slid into bench alongside me and in front of me, it was Hange, Erwin, Eren and Captain Levi, they made small talk around me, I didn’t pay much attention to them and then I decided to get rid of my untouched food.

“Oi, where do you think you are going Kasey?” Levi voices called out and stopped me in my tracks and look back at him but avoiding his eye contact that he was sternly holding with me “I'm... uh not feeling the best” is all I could muster up as an excuse “well maybe if you ate a little you would feel better, you can't sleep on an empty stomach, right Hange” Commander Erwin commented and Hange nodded along spooning meat into her mouth, I sigh internally but put on a smile and nod whilst making my way back to the corner to wait them out but Levi grabs my wrist causing me to pull and resist a little on instinct but he ignores it “Eren move down so Kasey can sit next to me” Levi ordered and Eren tilts his head but moves anyways “can’t have a solider skipping meals” he says bluntly and nods his head towards the plate and so I sit down next to Levi, a little too close to the point of our thighs touching but he doesn’t seem fazed by it and continues eating his half eaten food along with the others, I can still wait them out.

I poke around it some more and eat small bites of the vegetables for another 10 minutes and by then it was only me and Levi left at the table, he lets out a loud sigh next to me and pushes his plate away from him and takes a sip of his tea “are you really not going to eat that” he turned his face to me and look at me then the plate with furrowed eyebrows and I just shrugged “ Captain, I don’t feel too-” “yeah yeah you don’t feel good, of course” he rolled his eyes and didn’t even let me finish making a bit of guilt fill me, he was only looking out for me “anyway your dismissed I hope to see you eat more” I nodded and never moved quicker to get out of the mess hall with Levi’s stare burning me in the back.

I made it to my room which I thankfully didn’t share with anyone, I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt and undid all my straps and took them off to try feel a bit more relaxed, I took a long shower I think I was in there for about 25 minutes maybe more and I changed into a tank top and some shorts due to the summer heat that was creeping up on us. I brushed out my damp hair so there were no knots after doing this it was around 9pm and I was now laying on my bed staring at the ceiling when I suddenly heard a knock at my door making me snap my head towards the door and then it began to open.

“Who is it” I say, trying to see the person entre “Its Levi” He answers as he continues to push the door open with his foot because his hands were holding two cups of tea? I rush up to help him and open the door then close it behind him “is everything okay, Captain?” he just looks me up and down, nods and carefully sets one of the cups of tea on my nightstand next to my bed and then takes a seat on a spare chair at the end of my single bed. I felt a little awkward seeing him like this, he had a black long sleeved fitting top on, and some black sweatpants and he came here in his socks too, I looked around the room not keeping my focus on him “the tea is for you” he nods towards it and takes a sip of his own “I added some tea herbs that go well with the black tea that helps to calm you” He continued on and it was sort of...cute hearing him talk about something other than killing titans or anything titan related really, I smiled lightly and took the tea in my hand and took a sip, testing it out I had never had black tea never mind herbs.

I can feel Levi watching me intently as I remove the cup from my lips carefully “do you like it” I thought about it for a few moments, it was a little bitter with a tint of citrus to it as well “I like it, Ive never tasted something like this” I shift my eyes to him and take another drink before sitting it down and Levi keeps his in his lap, holding it in his unusual way. I was still confused on why he was here, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to tell me, I looked at him again and he was looking down into his teacup and swirling the tea around “I think I was a little harsh on you or maybe too blunt” he says out randomly and I'm shocked by him expressing this to me “oh no Captain please-” he cut me off again “just call me Levi there’s no need for the formalities, I've been watching you here and there during training and noticed how you aren’t doing as well as you used to do” so someone did notice, but Levi was the last person I would expect to notice a random cadet feeling blue about her life, I didn’t know how to answer him so I just looked down at my bare legs in front of me and he lets out a small sigh and piches his nose “Look.. I’m.... worried about you Kasey” after he said this, I feel the heat rise to my cheeks and try to hide it with my hair and grab the teacup and drink some more of the tea to distract myself, he coughs a little and shuffles around “I don’t want you to get injured or injure yourself if you aren’t looking after yourself here”.

He gets up and makes his way to sit next me on the bed and moves my hair from my face to behind my ear and I move my face away from his hand quickly after this and furrow my eyebrows “Kasey...” “sorry I'm just not used to being touched” he was quick to answer “don't apologise” I just nodded “are you.. Enjoying yourself being a cadet, Kasey?” this question makes me look up at him and he continues “is it that you don’t want to be here anymore? Are you regretting your decision picking the scouts?” he questioned, sounding a bit sad and I bite my lip, it's not that I don’t enjoy it I just don’t know how to, I fiddle with my fingers not knowing how to answer him “don't stay silent, I want to help you”  

I look at him with tears starting to swell up in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall out of my eyes “it’s...it’s not that, Levi I, I can’t feel anything good, I never feel happiness or relief or anything after I finish my training, I... I can't even talk to anyone because I don’t know how or what to say and it feels so exhausting even trying to interact with others, all I would do is let them down, there’s just nothing for me here... or anywhere, sometimes I wish to disappear, so I don’t have to live like this, I want to be able to feel all the good emotions but it's like... they just don’t exist inside me anymore and I don’t know how to get them back and I feel so alone here like no one understands this and I can't explain how I feel it's not like I should be this sad right? but I can tell you... I don’t regret joining the scouts” I put my face into hands and let tears out and I try to stifle my cries “H-how can I help you Kasey” he leans into me, I wipe my eyes and sit up straight and look into his eyes, why is he here.  

Without thinking I put my head into his lap and fling my legs up onto my pillow so I'm lying on my side staring at the door, I lay my hands on his knees and he tenses up a little “just... stay here with me, Levi?” I ask more than say and I feel him stretch over me to set him teacup next to mine and sit upright again and he starts to run his hands from the top of my scalp to the bottom of my almost dry hair “okay... I will” I sigh with a bit of comfort knowing I won't be alone, for tonight at least, “Levi... why did you come?” his hands pause for a moment then returns to their actions “Honestly, I'm not sure, I just had a feeling I had to come see you, but I must admit Kasey... I've always been a bit more than... interested in you and I didn’t want to leave a bad impression since we’ve only spoken a few times” I went wide eyed for a moment, more than interested? What did that mean? I didn’t give him an answer only feeling a bit of surprise hearing this from the Captain, I sit up and look at his lips then his eyes “what do you think of me, Kasey?” I didn’t know how to answer or what I wanted to say to him.

I lean in and close my eyes and Levi’s hand snakes up to cup my cheek and our lips touch and I furrow my eyebrows and lean in more, putting one of my hands on his lap and another on his chest. Levi begins to take the lead of the kiss a little more, tilting his head and with his other hand he pushed my hair away from my shoulder, I try lean in even more and Levi pulls away “you were almost pushing me over” he let out a small breathless laugh and rubbed his hair, I blush at how in the moment I got, and I mumble a sorry to him and catch my breath whilst looking at my lap, I look back up at Levi and he’s already looking at me, “what was that for?” I nibbled on my lip again and looked away to the side “I didn’t know what to say” Levi grinned a little “I’m glad we’re feeling the same way... sort of... don’t worry, I might not be able to bring your emotions back per say but... I can try show you that no one wants you to disappear and that you are never alone” he ducked down to look into my eyes that I was avoiding “okay?” He reached for my hand and lay his on top of mine and I blushed again “okay” I whispered back with a smile.

“it’s pretty late, aren't you tired?” I shrug and fumble with my fingers “a little, are you?” “a little” he replied back “that single bed looks a little cramped for the both of us, would you like to come back to my room?.... you don’t have to” “that would be nice” I answered without a second thought on that, sharing a double bed with Levi? Yes please.  

We both head out down the very quiet, cold and dimly lit corridors, turning right once and left once a few moments after the right turn before reaching Levi’s office, I've been in his office many times delivering notes and other things that Hange wanted to give him but always sent me, he opens the door and lets me walk in first then comes in after then closes and locks the door “this way” he says and takes me to another door that is where his bedroom must be. When I entre there is a big double bed with white silk sheets and a wooden headboard in the middle of the room “come on” he says quietly and opens the sheets for me to hop into the left side, I quickly snuggle into the sheets and bring them up to my nose, the smell of Levi surrounding me, he goes around and takes off his top, I couldn’t help but watch his back muscles move as he done the action I blush a little and look up at him once he turned around and gets into the bed with me and I suddenly feel a lot warmer than I already was “are you okay with this?” he whispered “yes” I whisper back and giggle a little at our hushed tone “good” he moves towards me and pulls me into him, and I let him, totally indulged in his warmth and scent, he rests his head on my head  with his arms wrapped around me  “get some sleep” “you too” I say and put my scrunched up hands on his chest and place a small kiss in the middle of his chest and drift to sleep

[babbushka]

Make Good

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

(Young!Flip from the Flip & His Darling Jewish Wife AU)

2k ; Content Warnings: Implied/Referenced abuse, abusive family; emotional hurt/comfort; angst & fluff [sometimes we just need to write what we need] 

                                                          -----------------

He’d been having a shitty enough day as it was, before he got your call. Work was tough with the weather shifting to cold and wet, rain coming down in sheets. Wasn’t good to leave wood out in the rain, and he had to oversee too many people trying to move too many logs in the low visibility of the slate grey skies.

So when he came home and two steps in the door his Ma handed him the telephone with worry set deep in her brow, and mouthed your name, he had feared for the worst and his pulse spiked hard in his chest.

Especially when he held the receiver up to his ear and heard the crack in your voice when you hoarsely whispered, “Phil…”

He knew that tone, the one that meant you’d been crying for a while, the hush that scrapes the back of your throat so that no one can hear you when you speak. He knew what put it there too, and he nearly went blind with anger before quickly responding,

“I’m on my way.”

By the time Flip gets to your house, the sun has long set. The rain carries on, steady and heavy as ever, a thick curtain of freezing cold drops that splash and flood the pavement around his tires. He knows he can’t park outside otherwise your parents will know he’s there, and neither of you can have that. You’ll be in even more distress, and that’s the last fucking thing he wants to cause you.

So, bundling up, he leaves his car parked down a block or two at a neighbor’s house who happens to know him and like him, and he tugs his coat on as tight as he can so no water chills him, and he makes a sprint for your window.

The light is off, which makes things a little more difficult than it needs to be – but he knows that you can’t have it on. They’d be mad if they knew you were up this late, even though it wasn’t late at all, not really. The light may be off, but you’re there, standing right against the window. You’ve pulled your curtains back and slid the right side open, waiting for him.

He can’t begin to describe the love that fills his chest when he sees you smile, realizing he’s come. He wants to call to you, but he can’t, not now, not at this hour. So instead he gets his footing together and begins to climb up the side of your house, using the garden trellis to work his way up.

The trellis is slippery though, and he accidentally misses a step and sucks in a deep breath as he tries to catch himself and keep himself from falling.

“Be careful!” You gasp, before clapping a hand over your mouth and shaking your head, knowing that any noise is a danger.

It only takes two more big climbs and then your hands are on him, looping around his arms and helping to pull him in through your window, his soaking wet feet landing on a towel you’ve placed right there on the floor for him.

It takes two seconds after that, for you to cry.

“Hey, c’mere.” Flip automatically pulls you into his arms, tight against his chest as he pets down your hair and soothes you with a gentle, “You’re okay.”

He doesn’t even think about how his clothes are freezing cold and wet, he doesn’t think about anything other than the rush of rage that thrums through him at how your body shakes against him from the force of your tears. You’ve buried your face into his neck to sob and he wants to scream, wants to kill something, because you’re so wonderful, so kind and tolerant – christ you tolerate too much – and you don’t deserve to be treated the way that they do.

“I don’t even know what I did wrong this time.” Your voice is muffled against his skin but he hears you clearly just the same, and he has to blink away the spots of anger that cloud his vision.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He speaks firmly but without any hint of anger, because he knows you’d misconstrue it as him being angry with you, and he’s not. Never in a million years.

He is angry, angry that they’ve gotten you so worked up like this, angry that they’re brainwashed you and gaslit you into thinking that you should be punished for simply existing. He gets angrier with them when your wet eyes shine wide in the moonlight and you shake your head.

“Yes I did! I had to have, otherwise they – she – it wouldn’t be this way.” You falter, forgetting to breathe in that way that you sometimes do when you’re too overwhelmed.

“No, ketsl,” Flip cups your cheeks in his hands and holds you steady, grounds you the way he will always ground you when you start to get too in your own head, “You didn’t.”

You stare at him for a while, before taking in that deep breath that you need, and letting your shoulders slump. Nodding slowly, you hold his hand like a tether and reach around him to shut the window with your free hand.

“I’ve got warm clothes for you.” You whisper, giving him a sad tired smile.

 This isn’t the first time it’s happened, him climbing through your window like this. Your parents were…difficult, was a good way to describe it. Probably the only fucking way Flip would be able to politely describe it, anyway. They weren’t both bad, but one of them well…one of them made you cry so often that Flip was gearing up to lose his fucking mind about it.

He had a fleeting thought once before, that maybe he’d join the police academy, come haul them away so they can’t hurt you anymore. He’s thinking it again, thinking that it doesn’t sound so impossible now, the way it did when he was gangly. Flip had filled out, he could do it.

If it meant keeping you safe and happy, he would.

“What happened this time?” Flip hazards to ask as you rifle through your closet for clothes you’ve got hidden away.

You hand them to him and don’t bother to avert your eyes when he starts stripping down, leaving his wet clothes in a heap on that towel he’s still standing on. You’ve been Flip’s girlfriend for a year now, you’ve seen every inch of him and there’s no reason for him to hide himself away.

“Nothing.” You reply with a sigh, and Flip frowns, hands stilling as he lifts the soft and warm t-shirt over his head.

“Nothing?” He steps into the boxers too, and before you reply, you take him by the hand to your twin bed.

It’s small, you’ve had it since you were moved out of a crib and it’s barely enough room for you now, but you’re clinging to Flip and he has you tucked against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you as thunder and lightning crash outside with the rain.

“Nothing.” You whisper.

Oh, he thinks as anger flares up again.

That was the worst, the silence. They pretended like you didn’t exist sometimes, when you were being punished for a crime you didn’t commit. You would say good morning and they’d ignore you, you’d be in the room and they wouldn’t look at you, you’d be doing their dishes or their laundry and they wouldn’t say thank you. You were a ghost to them sometimes, and today must have been one of those times.

“One day I’m gonna build you a house.” Flip says, apropos of nothing. He smooths his hands over your back and kisses the top of your head, “You hear me? I’m gonna build it with my own two fuckin’ hands if I have to.”

It’s not a lie, you both know. Flip’s been working hard, so hard, has been working to save up enough that he can make good on these words. Didn’t bother going to college, went right to work after graduation with every intention of putting all of it towards building his life with you.

“I’ll buy the lumber from the mill and get us a piece of the mountain and we’ll have tulips in every room and tomatoes in the garden and you’ll never have to tiptoe through the kitchen again.” He begins to card his fingers through your hair, the very same way that you do for him when his days are bad.

“When?” You ask, and that makes Flip hopeful, because if you’re talking that means you’re listening to him, which means you’re not listening to the voices in your head that they’ve poisoned you with.

“Soon as you’re finished with school.” Flip says easily, because that’s the plan, that’s always been the plan. “You get that diploma and we’re outta here, I promise. I promise you, ketsl. You won’t even have to work, just finish that degree and we’ll go away.”

He’s going to marry you too, he knows. He doesn’t have to say it, you know that too. So instead he asks, “How many rooms do you want?”

“How many can I have?” You huff a very small laugh against his chest and shrug with one shoulder.

You shuffle yourself further up onto his chest, your body lying on top of his. He’s got his knees bent and spread so that your body can fit between them easily, your hands folded under your chin as your eyes glitter, tears clung to your lashes. You’re not crying anymore, not right now anyway, and that’s a good sign.

“How many do you want?” Flip brushes across your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me what you want.”

You sigh and turn your head towards the window. Despite the rain, the clouds have steered clear of the moon, and the silvery light outlines you in an ethereal way that Flip can’t stop staring at.

“I want an eat in kitchen. I want a formal dining table and I want us to have a sit down dinner together every night. I want a big living room with a fireplace, and a small den with a fireplace too, one for entertaining and the other just for us.” You say softly. It’s all the things you have now, but in this future world you’ll be able to enjoy them.

“Keep going.” Flip encourages, fingers in your hair against your scalp.

“I want an office where I can do work, and a library where I can read through it. I want a big bedroom and a soaking tub that I can fit all of my leg into.” Your voice grows softer and softer, and Flip can feel your breathing even out as you begin to drift to sleep.

“What else?” He whispers.

“I want a nursery – ”

“Just one?” Flip interrupts, making you chuckle softly, sleepily against him.

“They can share the nursery before growing up enough to have their own rooms.” You reason, and Flip grins even though you can’t see it, “And I want playrooms – one for them, and one for us. With a big billiards table and a marble chess set like grandpa used to have.”

“Okay.” Flip nods, letting his eyes close.

“You’ll remember all that?” You mumble, more asleep than you are awake, your hand nudging against his and linking your fingers together.

“I got it all up here ketsl.” Flip kisses the top of your head, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

                                                 --------------------

That had been what seems like a million years ago, that night.

And as the two of you lie awake in the king sized mattress that you picked out, surrounded by wallpaper you helped put up, in the bedroom he gave you in the house he built you just like he said he would, as you’re beaming at one another because you’re so in love, that diamond ring on your finger glinting in the lamp-light, the little ones asleep in their bedrooms all tucked in for the night, he can’t help but think he really did make good on his promise.

Just like he always will.

[unsteadyimagines]

Curiosity Killed the Cat (Spencer Reid x Reader)

SUMMARY: After a very intense and stressful case, Y/N and Spencer are to share a hotel room for the night. Y/N decides to unwind and make herself at home with a hot bath – accompanied by a special helping hand. Much to Spencer’s surprise, he finds himself in a sticky situation as to whether or not act on his desires. Because after all, curiosity killed the cat.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Smut (masturbation)

NOTE:

***Feedback is always welcome for future improvement!

----------

Entering through the automatic hotel reception doors, Y/N can feel her feet ache from her heels with every step she takes, which she hopes will no longer be many. Standing in the elevator with Spencer, all that can be heard is the music playing before they reach the seventh floor.

“Oh my god, I don’t think my feet have ever ached so badly from heels before,” Y/N laughs, stumbling aimlessly down the hall clutching onto Spencer’s arm for support. Not that he was much help, he was stumbling just as much as Y/N. They first pass David’s room, then Tara’s, then Luke and Matt’s, and finally, Emily and JJ’s room, which happened to be right next to Y/N and Spencer’s.

“Could you two keep it down! It’s already 2am and we’ve had a long day.” Luke and Matt lean against their hotel room door, lightly yelling across the hall, laughing at the state Spencer and Y/N were in. It’s not that they were drunk, they were just tipsy but the lack of sleep they’ve had in the last 48 hours was definitely a strong contribution to their intoxicated state.

This was probably one of the hardest cases Y/N and the rest of the team had experienced, it was so physically exhausting there was not one part of their body that didn’t ache. When Y/N and Spencer made it to their room, Y/N struggles to successfully swipe the key card through the slot, taking a few attempts before the door was able to open. As soon as Y/N stepped onto the carpet, she rid herself of her heels, feeling the soft carpet under her aching feet while Spencer takes off his jacket, chucking it onto his bed. Both of them sobering up slightly, they start getting ready for some much needed sleep.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first? I was going to run myself a bath.” Y/N asks, opening her suitcase and grabbing out her pyjamas, underwear, toiletries and a small satin pouch.

“No that’s okay, you can go first. I’m going to stay up for a while and read anyway,” Spencer smiles, grabbing his book and making his way to the couch.

Y/N walks into the luxuriously big bathroom, locking the door and turning the faucet on, the sound of the running water echoing in the air. Massaging her own shoulders while waiting for the bath to fill, she knew that her strained muscles would soon be relieved by the hot water. Meanwhile, Spencer was making himself comfortable on the couch, already many pages into his book, deeply engrossed.

As the bath starts filling halfway, Y/N decides to hop in, sighing in content at the water temperature that was helping sooth her entire body, closing her eyes and finally letting herself relax after what could definitely be described as a physically draining and lengthy day. Humming to herself, she lays there completely still, growing tired the more she’s relaxed.

Running her hands through her hair and massaging her scalp, Y/N suddenly begins to miss the touch of another person. She misses how men would would stroke her head and knead her skin, but this only made her frustrated because she was laying in the water alone. This had her yearning…

Being deprived of her own touch or anyone else’s, she slowly slides her hands up over her stomach, lightly brushing her fingertips over her nipples, which are already growing sensitive to her touch. Tugging at each nipple with a gentle force, she squeezes her thighs together, trying to release some of the pressure that’s already forming. Trailing her hands down her stomach, she lays her hand flat against her pussy to the slickness that is already there, curling her toes slightly at the touch.

She then remembers the small satin pouch she brought into the bathroom with her. Her mind wanders, slowly bringing the pouch closer towards her. Debating in her head whether it was a good idea or not, she fears there’s a chance that the bathroom along with the running water won’t be loud enough to muffle the sounds that would soon be coming from inside. Maybe Spencer might be so immersed in his book that the sounds around him will drown out.

“Hey, Spence!” Y/N softly shouts, waiting to see if he will respond. She waits a few seconds and hears nothing, confirming to her that Spencer can’t hear her, or at least hopes he can’t. Making herself comfortable, she leans further back into the bathtub, resting her head and taking a deep breath. Opening the satin pouch, she pulls out the vibrating device she didn’t expect to need while away on the job. In saying that, she couldn’t be more grateful to herself for packing it anyway.

Settling in, she excitedly turns the power of the vibrating wand on, a soft buzz filling the air, the vibrations she feels in her hand get her all the more excited to really relax after a long day. Slowly running the head of the wand down her neck, to her chest, she circles her left nipple and then her right, her breathing getting slightly heavier. The sounds she’s making as well as the wand turning her on even more now. Letting out a deep sigh, she then slowly starts to run it down her stomach, circling her navel before trailing further down to her core – the area she needed it most.

“Mmm yes,” she whispers to herself, the pleasure already making her eager for more. Running the toy up and down her pussy, she can’t keep still, her hips bucking up into the vibrating head, whining in satisfaction. Once she got used to the feeling, she presses a button to increase the speed, the vibrations filling the room even louder this time. She could feel herself getting more wet, moving the toy even harder against her pussy.

“Fuck,” she moans louder, gripping the ledge of the tub tightly with her other hand. Her head falls back in pure bliss, drowning out the outside noise.

Meanwhile, Spencer – who is still oblivious to what was going on in the bathroom, was flipping page after page, finding the quiet and dimly lit room so peaceful among the constant chaos that was his job. He thought he could hear people outside of their hotel room door, but didn’t think too much of it, and instead turned another page, changing his position on the couch.

Y/N, on the other hand, was squirming, trying to muffle her moans at the risk of getting caught. She decided to change her position, standing up and sitting on the ledge of the tub, spreading her legs on either side. Placing the wand against her pussy again, her legs struggle to stay wide open, wanting to relieve some of the aching pressure.

Once again gripping the ledge of the tub making her fingers turn white, her breathing shortens into small pants, her release getting closer. Her pussy throbs, dripping into the water below her, while she struggles to maintain her composure.

“Oh my god, fuck yes,” she gasps softly, her head rolling back.

“Right there,” she moves the toy faster and faster, her pussy pulsating, the pleasure almost becoming too much. At this point, she doesn’t even care about the possibility of Spencer being able to hear her, too wrapped up in the pleasure she’s giving herself.

Bending the head of the toy slightly to add more pressure, she whimpers, her eyes flutter shut, and her mouth opens, but she can’t utter a word - only soft pants being able to escape. The vibrations against her clit have never felt so good, so she uses her other hand to pinch her left nipple, wishing it was someone else’s hand; a hand much thicker, bigger, rougher.

Inhaling sharply, she can’t keep quiet anymore, “Fuck yes, right there, oh my god fuck.” Moaning loudly, this time it captures Spencer’s attention. He thought he heard something as he looked up from his book, placing his bookmark in the page he was currently reading. He waited to see if he could hear it again, and he did. Completely unaware to what it was, he gets up from the couch and walks slowly and quietly towards the bathroom door, wanting to make sure Y/N hadn’t had an accident. It was a farfetched worry, but he remembered they both had been drinking despite the intoxication mostly having worn off by now.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?” Spencer asks, knocking on the door, hoping to get a response.

“I-I’m fine Spencer, t-thanks” Y/N replies, her voice trembling.

“I thought I heard noises, so I just wanted to check if you were alright. You know, make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep or drowned,” he explains, looking up at the ceiling.

“O-Okay S-Spence… I’ll be d-done soon… oohh,” Y/N replies, which Spencer found a little odd, but decided not to question it. Just as he took one step away from the door, he heard another noise, except this time he obviously assumed it came from Y/N, gasping loudly and the sound of water splashing around. Pressing his ear to the door as subtly as he could, his heart instantly started beating heavier once he realised what she was most likely doing in there.

“Mmm shit, oh- oh fuck yes,” her moans start getting louder, which gives Spencer confirmation of her actions. He gulps, wondering if he should give her privacy, fearing that he’s already crossed a boundary despite Y/N still not aware of Spencer’s ear against the door. But when he hears the toy’s vibration echo in the air, it only turns him on even more, his jeans suddenly getting that little bit tighter.

He feels incredibly guilty and creepy listening to his co-worker partake in such an intimate act, but he can’t help himself, listening further. The thought of Y/N naked and wet, pleasuring herself is what encouraged him to quietly unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants and push his hand down until he was gripping himself teasingly, biting his lip to stay quiet.

He could hear the water splashing quicker and Y/N’s breath become more ragged, which only made him move his hand up and down his hardening cock faster, quickening his pace, resulting in his breathing becoming shallower.

“Fuck,” he groans in a whisper. Biting his lip isn’t keeping him quiet enough, so instead he bites into his fisted hand, while touching himself with the other. Rubbing his thumb over his tip that’s now leaking pre-cum, he shudders at his own touch, sinister thoughts running through his mind.

While Spencer continuously palms himself, running his hands up and down his shaft, Y/N is so close to her climax, her soaking wet clit throbbing against the silicone head of the toy and her legs trying to shake themselves shut. “Oh g-god, f-fuck, fuck y-yes mmm.”

She’s so close she can feel her need for release building; she doesn’t have long till she comes completely undone. Y/N increases the speed of the vibrator one more time, a jolted spark running through her entire body and a deep heat forming in the pit of her stomach signalling to her that she’s about to orgasm. Tugging at her nipple with her other hand, bucking her hips up into the air with ragged moans, she finally releases all her stress and anxiety from the past week.

“Ooohhh shit, fuck, holy – fuck,” She exclaims loudly, squeezing both her eyes and legs shut, shivering from her orgasm – waves of pleasure cursing through the entirety of her body. Absolutely exhausted, she regains some strength, sitting herself back in the tub, soaking in what was left of the lukewarm water, and trying to even out her breaths.

While Y/N recovers post-orgasm, Spencer is just reaching his. Rubbing his cock harder and faster than before, his breath comes out deep and in pants, trying to be as quiet as he can - yet failing. His toes curl in his shoes, his hands longing to grip Y/N’s hair but settles for his own.

“Oh my god, ah – holy fuck,” he grunts, coaxing himself through his own orgasm, his head leaning against the bathroom door as he brings himself back to reality. When he comes out of his own little world, he realises he can no longer hear Y/N. Not wanting to risk being caught, he hurriedly cleans himself up before making his way back to the couch, picking up his book as if he had never left his spot.

10 minutes later, he hears the lock of the bathroom door, and out walks Y/N with wet hair and a flushed face, in sweats looking refreshed and muchmore relaxed. She stands leaning against the door, smirking at Spencer. Spencer’s eyes glance over to Y/N’s, confusion and nervousness written all over his face. The fear of Y/N potentially hearing what he was doing because of her makes his throat tighten and a knot form painfully in his stomach.

“You heard me, didn’t you?” Y/N asks, anxious to hear his answer. It’s not like she purposefully wanted him to hear, if he had, but the pleasure was all too much for her that she simply just could not keep quiet. Waiting for Spencer’s response, he lets go of his book and fiddles with his hands.

“Oh- uh, heard what?” Spencer acts cluelessly, not wanting to give himself away. He would be devastated if she found out and became repulsed by his behaviour. No longer being able to make eye contact with Y/N, he becomes interested in the front cover of his book, wishing the tension in the room could disappear. He doesn’t know whether it’s sexual tension or an awkward one, but either way he wanted it gone.

She slowly prowls her way over to Spencer who’s analysing her every move. Once she reaches the couch and she’s looking down at him with that same smirk as before, he gulps, confused as to what to do. He’s never been in a situation like this before. Y/N places her hands on both sides of his shoulders and straddles his lap, her eyes now level with his. Spencer’s hands stay by his side, not knowing what to do until he knows Y/N’s intentions. He lets out a low gasp as Y/N begins to leave light, feathery kisses all over his neck, gently rocking her hips into his. Making her way back up his neck, she grabs both sides of his face and roughly slams her lips against his.

Spencer’s too aroused to reject her touch. Instead, he grips Y/N’s hips, helping her to move their hips in sync, earnings small whimpers from the both of them, only increasing their need for each other – a need for each other they didn’t even realise they had. Disconnecting their lips, Y/N whispers in Spencer’s ear, making him shiver in pleasure. “I know you heard me… in the bathroom. I could hear you too, Spence,” running her hands through his hair, she tugs resulting him in letting out a loud grunt, gritting his teeth in both pain and pleasure. She smiles, surprised she has this effect on him already - and they’ve barely even started.

“Y-you sounded… sounded so fucking h-hot, I-I couldn’t help myself – fuck!” he hisses, grinding his hips with Y/N’s even harder, her back arching in ecstasy.

“F-fuck Spencer, please please just fuck me,” Y/N whines, attaching her lips onto the nape of Spencer’s neck again, feeling his cock grow harder and harder under her dripping wet pussy – which was still covered by her pyjamas.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Spencer chuckles, lifting Y/N off the couch with her legs wrapped around his waist. He spins around, throwing Y/N back onto the couch, making her squeal loudly and spread her legs for Spencer to nestle in between, attaching her lips back onto his, kissing every area of skin she possibly could to leave marks.

Little did they know they both wouldn’t be getting any sleep, fucking till 3…4am, before having to leave to get on a flight in the next few hours, not caring in the slightest whether the rest of the team could possibly hear everything in the rooms next to theirs.

Tags: @emmalvei-blog​ 

[starlight-starwrites]

I would die if you wrote a fic/ficlet expanding on giving Tovar loyalty and kindness. Oh God. And what he would do for you once you gained his trust. I love your HCs :)

Trust

note: thank you so much for this. i got so excited for this one...it is going to be a two parter. no smut in this one, that will be part 2! this clocked in at 2.3k. expanded from my hc here!

.

Pero Tovar liked to think he was a hard man to read. And yet somehow, they still managed to figure out he hid the money. All he could think about as he ran was what an idiot he was, and if the money wasn’t where he left it, people were losing heads. He’d been traveling on his own for a while now, and he still couldn’t make up his mind whether this was better or worse.

The streets were still busy, but he weaved through the people with practiced ease. His sword was sheathed, but most still avoided getting in his path by the look on his face alone. He had left you there, asking you to guard his pay. It was another stupid idea.

He assumed he could trust you. But trusting had gotten him in trouble in the past. Maybe you had never betrayed him, but the cabrónes had to have found out somehow. Was it you? Had he really gone soft for a woman with pretty eyes and a teasing smile?

He cursed as he ran down the street behind the shops. He didn’t care who he pushed aside as he finally reached the alley. He turned aside the crates at the back door of the tavern, to where he told you he stashed the gold. The bag would be in the smallest one, and he would take it and disappear and—

It was gone.

They must have been right. Tovar was a fool. You had taken it.

“Mierda.” He slammed his fist on the wooden slats of the wall. “¡Mierda!”

He wasn’t even sure who to be mad at. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought of you. As if the universe decided to curse him, your head popped out from the back door the tavern, eyes wide.

“Pero!” you hissed. You looked afraid, and he tried to ignore the tightening in his chest. He turned to anger instead.

“What have you done?” He didn’t like how accusatory he sounded. Your hand reached to grasp his arm and pull him in, just as his hands came to wrap around your upper arms, pushing you into the backroom. He barely glanced around to make sure you were alone before asking you again. “What have you done?”

The subtle break in his voice pulled at your heart. But today was getting more and more confusing, and you were ready to get out of this mess a long time ago.

“What are you talking about, Pero?” You make sure the door has closed behind you before turning back to him, ignoring the way his hands pull at your jacket and waist like he’s searching for something. “You can’t be seen here, Pero. What are you doing back?”

“It’s gone!” he hissed. He’s still angry but quieter now. He knows you can’t be overheard. “It’s gone. What have you done with it?”

“Pero, please, listen to me. Men came here—”

“What?” He interrupts you. “Are you alright? What did they do to you?”

The change in his demeanor throws you. You could have sworn he was blaming you for the gold you knew was missing, and yet here he stands now with nothing but worry in his eyes and assurance in his hands. He pulls you slightly closer, hands running over your shoulders. Even though you’re tense from the events of the day, you find safety in the touch, willing to forgive him if he would just listen.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine. But they were poking around, asked Henry many questions. I got nervous, so I moved the money.”

The look in his eye changes, but you can see he isn’t angry with you anymore. “What did Henry tell them?”

“You know Henry.” You tug on his armor, pressing your chest to his. “He isn’t one to talk. Sent them away. He wouldn’t have anything to tell them anyway.”

Tovar pouts. “Henry hates me.”

“Henry hates everyone,” you say, smiling up at him. “There’s a reason he’s been in business this long.”

His breath has calmed, and he holds you with hands at your back. It’s a touch of two people who are familiar with each other, and your heart beats faster at the implications. He’s never held you like this before. It was born of panic you know, but you still hope it means he’s beginning to trust you.

“Then what did the men do?”

“They started hanging around. Watching and looking through stuff. You told me to make sure it was safe so…I did. I pulled it out and put it where they wouldn’t dare look. I didn’t see them out when I looked last, but they’re likely waiting for you. If they see you here, Pero…”

They would come back. They’d look through everything. And then they’d take him from you.

You’d only just gotten him back.

“Then where did you hide it? I will take it away from here.”

You knew you would have to tell him eventually. But now that you stared the moment in the face, you felt embarrassed. It was an incredibly clever hiding spot, that you knew. You only hoped he would see it the same.

Tovar stared at you, still standing in his arms. To be honest, it was only just registering to him now how he held you, how you held him back. He wasn’t inclined to let go any time soon. It was the way you now avoided looking at him that made him worried. You looked…flustered.

He pulled away to look at you better. “Is everything alright?”

You hated that you were blushing. “I—yes, well no. No, it’s fine just—” Oh this was stupid. You pulled out of his arms, fisted your skirts in your hands, and lifted.

Tovar didn’t think he could be easily surprised, but as soon as you did that, he almost choked. He had to take a moment to realize that he was looking at your legs before he actually saw what was strapped to them. Pouches of his gold stuffed in your stockings and tied with…oh gods. Was that a garter?

You stared at him as he stared at your legs. Frozen for a moment, you just watched his face, unsure how to interpret his shock. It was only when he blinked a few times that you realize you were still holding your skirts up, and you dropped them quickly. He’d seen what he needed to.

“It’s, uh, it’s all there.” You didn’t like how hoarse your voice had gotten.

Pero cleared his throat, nodding as he ducked his head to the floor. He hates that he can’t stop himself from smiling and is forced to hide it instead.

“I should…” He trailed off. What should he do? “I should get it out of here.”

Being so close to you would only put you at risk. Henry would really hate him then, and he wasn’t going to risk the chance of never seeing you again. Thinking about his money strapped to your legs distracted him from what you were doing. After he trailed of the first time, you had stopped listening and were already talking over him. He shook his head before he heard what you were saying.

“I don’t carry much, but I brought an extra bag with provisions. I figured you wouldn’t likely bother so I thought I’d take care of that for you. And yes, before you ask, I brought an extra canteen filled with ale for you, and the sweet rolls. I took whatever wouldn’t spoil, but really you ought to be eating more fresh—”

You stopped when he took hold of you by your arms, pulling you to look at him. He still held one of the parcels you had absent-mindedly handed him, and he had absent-mindedly taken.

“What are you on about?”

His brows were creased so deeply, you wanted to reach up and smooth it with your fingers. Despite noticing how much he had calmed down from earlier, his chest was heaving now.

“You said it yourself, they’ll be after us. We—”

“We…”

The grip on your arms was tight. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yes, we. You think I was going to let you run off on your own? You hardly think two steps ahead. Besides, you need someone to watch your back, and I’d be very disappointed when you run off with so much money, I never see you again.”

Pero stared at you in awe. “No, I…” He very much wanted to hoist you up over his shoulder and carry you away right now. But he knew that would attract unwanted attention, so instead he did the next best thing.

He surges forward, lips pressing to yours in a fiery kiss. He had wanted to do this admittedly much too soon after meeting you, but now that he had you here, in his arms, sharing your breath, tasting you—he thinks he should have done it much sooner. Your lips were soft, he liked the way your waist fit in his hands, liked how easily you opened for him.

The bags dropped to the ground, forgotten as Pero kissed you. Your hands creep up to his neck, caressing his face before curling in his hair. He had taken the lead, tongue licking into your mouth, his forehead pressing into yours to tilt your head back. It was the moment you had been waiting for, the kiss of your dreams. You had been afraid he may never come to you like this, but now here he was.

You weren’t going to waste a moment.

Your fingers wrapped in his hair and pulled, tilting his head back, and you took the moment of surprise to reach with your own tongue, pushing into his mouth to take what you wanted. It was a fierce kiss, and you moved your lips against his, opening his mouth before taking his bottom lip in between yours. His hands gripped the flesh of your waist almost painfully, and your eyes flicked open for a moment to look at him.

His gaze was dark and primal, and you nearly feared you had gone too far. The backroom was too dark to see the flush of his face, but you were so close the constant sound from the front did nothing to hide his growl. The sound vibrated against your lips and sent a pulse of want through your body. His mouth was on yours again, rough and hungry, and it took everything in you to keep up. Your hands were threading through his hair, pulling the short locks, fingernails scrapping at his scalp. His hands slid up from your waist, fingers splaying against your back, his thumbs rubbing underneath your breasts. He leans into you, pushing you back and you walk, lips not breaking from each other.

Your back hits the wall, and he swipes into your mouth again, unashamedly tasting you. You’re surrounded by him, melt into his arms, his mouth. Moan what might be his name past his lips. You know you’re on borrowed time, know that he does too by the way he forcibly keeps his hands above your hips. The passion of his kiss does not fade, even as he slows. His nose bumps yours, his kisses become shorter and harder, as though he’s trying to pull away and failing.

You are no innocent, leaning forward to find his lips again each time you separate. Your hands come to cup his cheeks, just as his leave your sides to take your face in his hands. He pulls you in for one last kiss, much softer than all the ones before. Your lips stay planted on his and he breathes you in. Your thumb skims on the edge of scar underneath his eye, still enjoying the feeling of having him so near.

You know what is coming next, so you break the moment first.

“I’m going to take that as you don’t have issue with me coming?”

His shoulders shake for a moment as he nuzzles your cheek, and you think he’s smiling.

“I most certainly have issue, amor. But it seems I cannot let you go.” He nips at your bottom lip, making you smile. You sincerely hope you find yourself between a wall and Tovar again, because you have plans.

You slide your hands down to his chest to put some distance between you, allowing you to remember the danger that is coming, and how you are to escape.

“We’ll take what we have here, and head to the bridge on the East side of town,” you say, trying to bring focus back to your plan. Pero still looks at you with worry.

“My horse, she is still kept on the other side—”

It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I’ve already sent Sigmond. He’s brought her to this side of the river. If we make it there without a problem, we should be safe.”

You don’t recognize the look in his eye as he looks at you now, but you think it is fond. His lips quirk to the side as he admires you. “You think of everything, do you not?”

You smile up at him, happy to be appreciated, happy that he did not protest your presence. “One of us must.”

He grins then, relief shinning in his face. His eyebrows pull together, and you think you have never seen him with such emotion. The bags are quickly snatched up from where they lay on the floor, and you stride to the door, fastening your satchel of personal items across your back.

Pero strides beside you, rushing to the door, before he stops you. A hand comes to the side of your neck, a thumb on your jaw, and pulls your face toward him to press a fierce kiss to your lips. It’s over much too soon, and you find yourself chasing his taste.

He stands more proudly than you’ve ever seen him. “Mi corazón,” he whispers. And then he’s pulling you by your hand onto the evening streets, eagerly running to your next adventure.

[crybabyjam]

nobody like you

for valentines day

ship: bakudeku

rating: t

summary: Izuku takes Katsuki on a date to a parfait shop.

content warning for (light??) heavy petting/making out. age difference.

available on ao3

---

Katsuki grunts on impact as Deku barrels into him excitedly, like a giant puppydog that doesn't know its own strength.

He was underneath the awning of Aldera Junior High, one of the last students there besides the sports kids and the class reps who had to do whatever bullshit it is that they do.

Still, they were all inside the building. So it's quiet enough that, when Deku takes a moment to nuzzle his face against the spiky softness of Katsuki's hair,  Katsuki can hear Izuku's heartbeat.

Strong and steady, a deep 'thump, thump, thump' that makes Katsuki's own pick up in speed.

He hears it more clearly in his wrist when Deku lifts his hands to lay them gently across the back of his neck and trace his thumb along the jaw, until Katsuki's nose flares and he can feel his cheeks flush.

Fucking romantic. It made Katsuki want to swallow his entire mouth so that he can chew his own heart out.

(read more)

"Kacchan, are you ready?" Deku asks, peering down at Katsuki from his bullshit height of 6'4''. Second growth spurt at the end of his first year of high school. Asshole.

Katsuki'll catch up or die trying.

"Yeah," Katsuki grunts, ducking his head down to dodge the kiss that Deku tries to stick on his cheek.

Deku, undeterred, lets it land instead on Katsuki's hairline. The thinner, more bristly hairs near his sideburns tickle Deku's lips, and Katsuki is left with a vibrating laugh ringing in his ears when Izuku pulls away.

"Let me hold your bag?" Deku asks as he reaches out to grab it anyway.

It's just a briefcase, smaller than Deku's yellow monstrosity by a large margin. But he's learned that Deku will get annoying if he doesn't let him do some 'boyfriend' things, so Katsuki lets him grab the briefcase and hook it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, pack-mule. Where are we going?"

Deku hooks his arm over Katsuki's shoulder and begins to gently lead him along down the sidewalk. With that same hand, he pats along Katsuki's chest until he snags his phone with a grin and unlocks it.

For as many times as Katsuki has threatened to change it to lock him out, he never has. But Katsuki almost regrets giving him the code, just because of that giddy look.

"It's not far," Deku is saying, gesturing with one finger towards the left as his thumb runs across the map on Katsuki's phone. "It'll be nice and quiet like you like. They even have booths."

"Took one of your other boyfriends there?" Katsuki huffs.

Deku looks at him, bemused. "You're the one who made me choose something private! I would have been happy announcing how much I love my Kacchan to the entire world."

"'Cause you're a fuckin' embarrassment."

And, as if that was a compliment, Deku perks up and says, "Oh, right!"

Deku tucks the phone back in Katsuki's pocket and sneaks his fingers, instead, to his backpack. It takes a bit of struggling because he refuses to let go of Katsuki's shoulder while he does it.

Katsuki ends up in a bit of a chokehold, and he elbows Deku in the gut. It feels solid, a literal wall of dense muscle. Katsuki digs his pointy elbow in meanly, until Deku curves his tummy away with a grunt and a laugh.

"Here!"

A gaudy red object is shoved in his face, distracting him from his attack.

Katsuki snatches it away from Deku's scarred fingers and squints at the thing.

A teddy bear. Red, fuzzy, and tiny. In its arms is a stuffed heart, and on its back is a box of chocolates (heart-shaped, of course) that overshadows the thing by about 300%.

"I would have gotten orange, but you don't like orange-flavored candies, right? This is a variety pack instead. Although, I know you don't really love chocolate— so it might be kind of a waste. But it's a holiday! And Kacchan deserves a nice Valentine's box, after all—"

"Looks like roadkill." Katsuki thumbs across the sewed nose of the thing, and the button eyes that feel like marbles. The fur is soft, and doesn't shed even when Katsuki scratches at the scalp of the thing.

And the box itself isn't bad. Covered in transparent, plastic-like paper and, beneath that, the box itself is outlined in white lace. Kind of dainty for a guy like Katsuki, but he couldn't say he didn't like it.

Deku always did have a different idea about him than everyone else, anyway.

Deku's shoulders drop, relaxed. More of his weight leans on Katsuki, and he throws his head back with his belly laugh.

"Does that mean you like it?"

Katsuki tucks the bloody-colored bear under his arm, careful not to ruin the packaging of the chocolates too much. It jostles noisily, and Deku looks half a second from stealing it back from him just to carry it again.

So Katsuki nods. "It's… good."

As if he'd just gotten powered by the sun itself, Deku's smile brightens by megawatts. He gets these ridiculous dimples when he smiles like that, deep and perfectly pokable.

Katsuki resists, and instead turns to face the sidewalk as if he was the one leading the way.

Deku sneaks a kiss to Katsuki's cheek, close to the edge of his mouth. It was purposeful, too, because Deku tugs his arm away and runs a few steps ahead to walk backwards as he leads the way.

Katsuki stuffs his hands in his pockets and glares at the ground even as he fights the grin off of his face like he's fighting a dragon with a shield made of paper lace.

The grin wins.

 ---

 They make it to the little venue Deku had chosen for them.

And, of all places, it's a parfait shop. It's darkened glass windows to keep the inside cool on hot days, and small; cornered and squished by taller buildings on either side. Across the small street is a busier shop that's stuffed full with a line out the door— a bakery.

Katsuki squints at Deku, and Deku gives him a coy look in return.

"C'mon."

He leads them up the two short steps and Katsuki holds the door open for Deku's wide ass backpack.

The inside is even smaller than it looks. Overfilled with pillows and stuffed animals and floral banners announcing the Valentine's holiday, it was like Katsuki had been dropped into a love commercial.

But it's quiet, and there's only two workers and one other customer in the entire shop. Deku leads them towards a booth to set down their things, and the cushioned seats creak when Katsuki flops into it.

It's too big of a booth for just the two of them. Curved in a corner, faced in a way that they're hidden unless someone walked right in front of the table.

It smells like a park in spring over in their corner. Mixed with something sweet in the air, it's like he's floating on cinnamon-sugar clouds.

"Can I order for you?" Deku hums, chewing on an open straw even though there's no drink in front of him. "There's a cake I think you would like."

"Mm." Katsuki cursorily sweeps his gaze across the menu, though there aren't many pictures to bely what the snacks would actually taste like. Just flowery descriptions that use the word 'decadent' way too much, in his opinion.

"I'll also get us a parfait. To share?"

Deku's eyes are hopeful. Way too fucking green and bright for his own good. His gaze is impossibly soft, and Katsuki feels like he just got wrapped in silk and laid in satin.

He scratches at his skin to keep himself from looking too excitable. But he does nod. "We can share."

Deku waves down a waiter.

Katsuki watches how his school uniform shifts with him when he raises his hand up, how it strains at the shoulders. He'd really filled out over the years, and it seems his clothes couldn't really keep up.

Deku catches him looking and winks, face turning pink like a freshly blossomed flower.

The waiter arrives, interrupting Katsuki before he gets started.

Katsuki tugs off the jacket to his own uniform as Deku lists off a few items to the worker.

It's cool inside, as expected, but Katsuki always ran hot anyway. So that it doesn't drop on the floor and get dirty, he stuffs it behind Deku's bag, which is between them in the booth like a boulder stopping the flow of a river. He's careful not to squish his chocolate box, moving the bear to the empty spot of the booth opposite of Deku, on top of the table.

Katsuki leans across it, ignoring the poke of utensils and notebooks, and blinks his eyes slowly as Deku laughs at something the worker says. It's a muted sound, polite so that he doesn't disturb the literally only other patron in the establishment.

His lips look soft when they part in a smile like that. Smooth and dusky and plush.

Katsuki hides his own against the sleeves of his button up, suckling the lower one between his teeth to mimic the way Deku likes to nibble on it when he's in a tease-y mood.

"Kacchan?"

Deku blinks at him, just noticing the shift in positions. The worker bows their head quickly as they leave, still smiling, but Deku's focus has entirely shifted to Katsuki. As it always has and always will.

Deku scooches closer, so that he eclipses the other side of the bag. Katsuki gets shadowed along with it, and he has to pluck his head up to continue looking Deku in the eye.

A hand hovers close to his brow, and he eyes it carefully before he nods and lets it comb through his hair. Deku focuses on the tangles, first, and then lets his fingertips focus on the temple worriedly.

They're cold, colder than the restaurant. Bad circulation from turning his bones and his veins and his nerves to dust too many times.

"Tired?"

"Sick of your bullshit," Katsuki says, with no venom whatsoever. Deku can tell, because his eyes just (somehow) soften even further.

As if Katsuki is actually asleep and he's afraid to wake him, Deku lays the lightest kiss on his skin. Across his temple, warm to replace the cold.

"Sorry, Kacchan," Deku says, teasingly. "I think you'll always be sick of me."

Impossible, but Deku didn't need to know that. Let him figure it out on his own, when he needs to.

"But it's okay because I'll always be there to get on your nerves even more, Kacchan."

Katsuki snorts. It's a jarring sound, rising above the lilting music playing in the background. Inside, his heart is hammering at the declaration. What a fucking dumbass.

Only Deku could make a stupid sentence like that affect Katsuki so much.

He grabs Deku's wrist and shoves it against his cheek, squeezing it between that and his shoulder so that it gets trapped there.

"Yeah, well. You're fuckin' stuck with me, too. Forever, asshole."

The words are growled, said too fast and awkwardly. Like Katsuki had dropped them in a pile at Deku's feet and hastily picked them up to show them off.

Deku accepts them graciously. As if the words were dipped in gold and sprinkled with diamonds.

His face goes from pink to red, and Katsuki is reminded of the awkward kid that used to walk him to and from elementary when Deku was just beginning junior high.

He'd been lanky then, like Katsuki is lanky now. All bones and jumpy like a skittish rabbit perpetually in the middle of a street.

He'd always had a red face back then, too. Maybe from crying, or from laughing too hard when Katsuki would steal his homework to try to do it instead, maybe three years before he'd learned the material.

"I'm glad, Kacchan," Deku says, eventually. His fingers curve against Katsuki's skin, warming up pleasantly. Katsuki's own are sweltering. If they got any hotter, they'd ignite and explode like fireworks.

Katsuki swipes his palm across his pants to clean them. Squeezes the loose material between his fist just to steel himself.

Deku glances down at the motion, and brings his other hand up to press it against Katsuki's face. To comfort him, maybe.

Katsuki interrupts by shoving his own against Deku's face first. It's awkward, and he does it too fast because there's a soft 'plap' sound when his clammy palm connects with Deku's cheek.

Still, it fits there comfortably. Deku's chubby cheeks curve into the space of his palm like he's about to roll a ball of mochi.

Dumbass was built like a brickhouse and still had the babiest face.

Katsuki relaxes when Deku doesn't shove him away. Not that Deku ever would, not when Katsuki's heart was about to shove it's way up his throat and make good on that chewing promise from earlier.

Deku's hand, which had been hastily shoved out of the way so Katsuki could grab him first, comes to instead rest atop Katsuki's own.

He presses it firmly against Katsuki's, fitting his fingers between Katsuki's smaller ones and curving towards the middle so he can tickle at Katsuki's heart line with the tips.

"You make me so happy," Izuku mumbles, against Katsuki's palm.

As if he'd been released from chains tying him down, Katsuki knees the schoolbag fully out of the way, shifting up onto it so that he can atleast match Izuku in height.

"Deku," Kacchan says between his teeth, just before Izuku pulls him forward to kiss him silly.

Izuku always likes to build up to kissing. Likes to leave his touch across Kacchan's skin so that it can tingle and thrum with the feeling it leaves behind. He likes leaving a trail of kisses up his neck, across his chin, and just a bare brush of lips across lips. And he likes how Kacchan looks when he does it, eyes half-lidded and dark, mouth dropped open with the barest hint of a smile, cheeks flushed.

But, right now, he can't help going straight for it. Kacchan doesn't mind either way (or, atleast, says he hates when Izuku teases him, wants him to just get on with it), so he's already there with an open mouth and a moan.

Izuku is quick to shush him, feeling along Kacchan's shoulders and noting how the muscles beneath his button-up tense and subsequently relax. Izuku curves the touch lower, fitting his arms beneath Kacchan's so that he can rest them, crossed at the wrist, against the small of Kacchan's back.

They fit there nicely, especially when Kacchan climbs into Izuku's lap to take up all the space between his belly and the table.

Izuku tugs him closer by that hold, sinking down low so that Kacchan, for once, has to dip his head down to kiss him back.

Their lips move across one another, connecting them together more solidly than a red thread of fate could in that moment. Kacchan is concentrating hard on the moment, Izuku can tell because he begins to minutely rock back and forth the motions of his breath. He always kissed Izuku like he had something to prove, but Izuku was just happy to hold him. To love him.

Still, Kacchan kisses him so deeply, like he's trying to transmit every one of his thoughts directly into Izuku's temporal lobe, that Izuku gets lost in the current that is Kacchan's desire.

Static from the seat zaps the back of his neck when he slides in the booth more, gathering it by his hair rubbing against the leather. He pulls his hand away to pat at his nape, but Kacchan tugs it back before it gets very far.

He encourages Izuku to grab a handful of his thigh, lifting up a few inches so that his fingers can curve comfortably around the underside. For himself, Kacchan busies himself with sneaking his fingers beneath Izuku's blazer to try to fit it past his shoulders.

Izuku doesn't realize he's still sliding down the seat until his feet hit the other side of the booth, and he breaks the kiss to laugh when Kacchan flinches at the dull noise.

"Sorry," Izuku whispers, leaning over to glance past the barrier of the booth. "We should probably slow down before we kicked out before you even get to taste—"

"Shut up," Kacchan says, also in a whisper. His soft fingers come back to Izuku's cheeks and press them in so that Izuku's lips pop out.

Izuku laughs again, and it gets muffled when Kacchan kisses the noise away.

Warmth furls around Izuku's chest, like love had grown a physical form and decided to wrap itself around his ribcage as the first thing it did. He can't breathe in too deep, or else he's afraid he'll melt right in Katsuki's hands.

He feels along the cascading dip of Kacchan's spine, all the way up to the shoulderblades. He's been working out recently, eager to join Izuku at U.A. and surpass him before Izuku graduates.

It's been paying off, little by little. He's still tiny, not that he'd ever say so. But it's true, especially when he fits himself in Izuku's arms and lets himself get cradled there as he swallows down his soft, breathy sounds.

Izuku writhes in his seat. He blinks his eyes open to find Kacchan already looking at him with a grin.

"You get like this just 'cause of one little kiss? Virgin."

Izuku doesn't mention that they took each other's virginities.

Kacchan's face is bright red, lips not exactly kiss-swollen but close enough. Still, his smirk is wide enough that the tips of his sharper teeth peek out between his pink lips.

"Kacchan," Izuku huffs. Kacchan settles his weight fully on Izuku's lap, carefully angled away from that spot with a quick pat on the hip from Izuku's hand.

They were already being too forward as it is.

Still, Izuku shifts upwards so that he's sitting correctly in his seat, just so that he can peck Katsuki across the lips properly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kacchan."

There's the gentle clack of hard-soled shoes across the floor as the waiter approaches with their food, and Izuku hurriedly shoos Kacchan back into the booth as he takes off his jacket like Kacchan wanted.

Though, unlike what Katsuki is expecting (which is him hiding his kiss boner with his wadded up uniform), Izuku drops the jacket across Katsuki's shoulders and tucks the sleeves firmly across his lap.

The waiter arrives just as Izuku has smoothed out his own shirt again, swiping his big hands across his curly hair to fluff it out.

Katsuki buries his face against the collar of the jacket. It's warm like he's a tea kettle over a freshly stoked fire. It's a good thing his belly is empty or else— pfft no.

Izuku is once again making nice with the waiter as they explain the order, handing off two long spoons to each of them. Izuku already has his own shoved between his lips before Katsuki even grabs for his.

He lays it on the table, resting his chin in his hand as a large slice of cake is slid in the empty area of the booth opposite of them. In front of the red bear that is laying half on its side, kept upright only by the heavy chocolates weighing it down.

With a snort, Katsuki sidles closer to the school bag to get back on his portion of the booth.

Izuku reaches out to stop him, bowing his head in thanks to the waiter as they head off.

Katsuki, just to tease, dodges the touch and only gets two paces further before Izuku whines and drags him back, leaning his full weight across Katsuki's back to smother him in butterfly kisses.

They focus mostly on his jaw, unable to get at his face with the position, but Izuku takes what he can get and peppers each smooch thoroughly across Katsuki's skin until the latter shrieks like a banshee between his laughter.

"Idiot, you just said you didn't want us to get kicked out!" Katsuki gripes, twisting in Izuku's grip just to grit his teeth right in Izuku's face.

Izuku lets his hold loosen, one arm behind Katsuki's back. Katsuki trails his own across Izuku's and tucks his fingers in the back pocket that's closest to him.

"I can't help it when I'm with you, Kacchan. All I wanna do is kiss you!"

"I hate you," Katsuki says, resolutely. He leans his head against Izuku's shoulder and gestures at the parfait in front of them. "Now let's fuckin' eat this junk already."

It's tall, with mostly pink fruit to keep up with the theme of the holiday. Strawberries and syrupy peaches cover the top of the pink ice cream, color offset by white powdered sugar and dark brown chocolate shavings sprinkled on top. The cup itself is lined in chocolate drizzle, in a wavy pattern that gets a bit smeared when Izuku pokes his spoon into the top.

There's also a little heart shaped cookie on top.

"Look how pretty it is, Kacchan!" Izuku says excitedly. He carefully wipes excess whipped cream off of the rim of the tall glass and laps it off his thumb. Some smudges at the edge of his lip.

Katsuki lets out a fond sigh and gestures him forward.

Izuku comes to him willingly, always happy for whatever it is Katsuki gives to him.

Instead of kissing him again, Katsuki swipes the whipped cream up to instead smear it directly across Izuku's freckled cheek. Only two of his more prominent ones get covered completely, but it dissolves the two of them into a fit of giggles anyway.

"Kacchan!" Izuku wipes off the mess with the back of his sleeve, completely disregarding the perfectly good handkerchief he has tucked in his back pocket. Katsuki can feel it brushing against his fingertips when Izuku shifts forward to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the parfait again.

Katsuki watches him for a moment, and feels his insides shift with a bursting need to tell Izuku right now that he loves him so much that his very soul belongs in Izuku's strong, mangled, soft, gentle hands.

Somehow, the idiot has powdered sugar in his hair.

Katsuki grabs for his briefcase and flicks it open as Izuku takes his first bite, chirring happily like a bird that just learned how to fly.

When he pulls out the small chocolate box, Izuku cuts off abruptly.

"Kacchan?" The name is garbled around the spoon, but the inflection is clear. Hesitant, yearning. Disbelieving. It's just a simple box wrapped in a ribbon, but Izuku wants to treasure it immediately like it's his first autograph from a hero.

"Made this for you," Katsuki says, gruffly. He shoves it across the table, and it slides right into Izuku's hand.

Despite the size, the box is a bit heavy. Izuku weighs it for a moment, eyes already brimming with tears.

Katsuki grimaces, turning away to tug the parfait close to himself instead and swirls up a bite of strawberry flavored ice cream with one of the peaches, shoving it in his mouth instead of explaining further.

"Can I…" Izuku pauses to wet his lips, and they're doing that thing where he's caught between a smile and a grin; between overjoyed and overwhelmed. "Can I open it?"

"Just said I made it for you," Katsuki mumbles, swallowing the ice cream down too fast. It melts in his throat and leaves an empty spot that fills with tense nervousness.

He takes another bite of ice cream to fill it as Izuku carefully unravels the present.

And, on the inside of the simple black box, is a plain chocolate. Homemade, of course, and hard-shelled. It was a bitch to temper, but the shine came out well if Katsuki did say so himself.

The top is outlined with a white chocolate heart, and the message inside of it is a mix of white and dark chocolate— because Izuku didn't actually like the taste of white chocolate. Katsuki taste-tested it a million times to make sure he couldn't taste it more than the rest of the chocolate but…

Katsuki rubs his sweaty palms across his thighs again.

The message simply says, 'To my Number One hero.'

Because Katsuki wasn't… couldn't actually convince himself to do the lovey-dovey shit. The heart shape was pushing it but… he knew Izuku would do something that would make him feel like this, so. He had to.

Katsuki bites his tongue to quiet his own nervous thoughts. Shit, he was hanging around the nerd too much.

Izuku likes it, though. Because he's crying harder, laying the box on the table so that he doesn't crush the edges when it becomes too much for him.

"Kacchan, you're—" Izuku interrupts himself with a sniffle. And then a soft sob.

"Deku, don't fuckin' cry," Katsuki says, only mildly panicking.

He's just begun preparing himself to crawl back in Izuku's lap and kiss the tears away himself when Izuku finally swipes them away with the edge of his already dirtied sleeves.

With a quick nod, he centers himself and looks Katsuki directly in the eye.

"I won't let you down, Kacchan. I'll become the Number One for real, soon."

He was still only in high school, but Katsuki had a feeling that this was a promise Izuku wouldn't break.

Katsuki had a lot of catching up to do, but he didn't really mind. Not right now.

Instead, he gestures with his spoon towards the homemade chocolate.

"Yeah, yeah. Better fuckin' hold onto it while you can before I take my title back."

"Of course, Kacchan." Izuku is grinning, and his face is red like it always gets (after crying, after laughing, after kissing). "I look forward to it."

Katsuki shoves another bite of parfait past his lips, and, when Izuku drops a kiss to his cheek for the umpteenth time that day, he lets a full smile grace his lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Deku."

--

ao3 link

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (10/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9]

The play wasn't horrible by any stretch of the imagination. It was the most fun Clarke had had in a long time. She laughed so hard at parts that tears sprung to her eyes and her cheeks started to hurt by the end of it. The 1920s décor and costumes were stunning, the performances captivating, and the story the perfect balance between humor and social commentary. Even Lexa, who already knew the jokes and twists, still laughed loudly.

Clarke took as much joy from the sound as she did the play. When the curtain fell for the last time and the lights fully came on, she looked over at Lexa and found herself captivated. Lexa was still clapping for her cousin’s success, her face beaming with pride, and Clarke couldn’t really explain why it made her adore this woman so much more.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked her.

Clarke nodded mutely, unsure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She let Lexa take her hand and lead her out of the theater, where the crowd spilled out of the great glass doors.

Cocoa Street was the longest street in Costial, cutting through the city in a curving fashion. Clarke's favorite part was the food trucks; rows of them on both sides with their own specialties and flair. You could very well order duck à l'orange with mashed pumpkin at one truck and a burger with fries at the next one. The Italian ice cream truck was between the rival crab cake trucks and the Noodle Brothers were right next to the Pizza Sisters. There were lines wherever you went, sometimes even street performers to soften the blow of the waiting time. It was absurd and it was wonderful.

They ate Chicago-style hot dogs and curly fries, slowly walking down the street as they laughed about the play. Lincoln had relied on alternate history to weave the visions into his tale, using them for comedic effect in the more dramatic beats. A secondary character had one in the middle of a monologue, suddenly passing out while a crowd rushed over to him. The visions were reenacted with tricks of light and masked characters, reminiscent of interpretive dances.

"Okay, I have to ask," Clarke brought up while they meandered down the street. "The castle on the hill - that's the Polis Hotel, right?"

Lexa nodded. "Lincoln has a complicated relationship with his heritage, to say the least. He's keenly aware growing up in a luxury hotel was a great privilege, but it also messed with his head. He basically shared a home with thousands of strangers for eighteen years."

"I'd always admired Polis from afar, but I can't imagine growing up there. Don't get me wrong, that was one hell of a party, but-"

"It's not a place for a kid," Lexa finished, in agreement.  

Clarke ate the last bite of her chocolate waffle and threw the paper in the trash. “You must be pretty familiar with it.”

Lexa glanced at her and smiled. "The cat and I go back."

"Right. That night was a bit intense, even for you."

Lexa let out a laugh, looking away with a hum. "You know, you make me sound quite strange."

Clarke bumped her shoulder. "You pinned me against the staircase - you are strange."

"I didn't… pin you," Lexa replied with a huff. "I was drunk, high off an excellent game of poker… and I saw you. And I needed to be close to you."

Clarke stopped them in the street, grateful they'd left the busy part. "And the Gazette?"

“What about it?”

"You offered me a side job. Just like that."

"Oh," Lexa remembered. "I genuinely thought you'd be good at it. Still do. Your style would be perfect."

That was surprising, but Clarke wasn't convinced. "It wasn't because of your vision?"

"It was a way to talk to you, yes, but I meant it. I know the visions were… well, the reason for this, that they nudged us together, but I'd noticed you drawing before."

They walked a bit further before Clarke took a small breath. "I, uh, may have looked at the pages in older prints."

Lexa glanced at her. "And?"

"It could be fun. I'm just not sure-" Clarke scrunched her nose. "I'm just so rusty. Art is what I got into college for, but then I took up business classes and… I don't know, it just felt so much easier. Don't get me wrong, managing the café kicks my ass every day, but I like the challenges. With drawings, paintings, whatever… it feels like putting your heart on the line each time. And nine times out of ten, your heart ends up getting trampled."

Lexa took her hand to stop her. "I would never suggest you do something that makes you uncomfortable. If it's truly just a hobby to you, a way to pass the time, you should keep it that way."

It wasn't like Clarke hadn't considered it. Drawing, sketching; it came as naturally as breathing. She'd done it since she could hold a pencil and she still did it whenever the world became too loud. It was an escape; a different way of thinking. Her own little world. Illustrating short stories could be a welcome breath of fresh air. A way for her brain to snap away from bills, calls, deliveries, and the hundreds of post-its in her tiny office.

"And for the record," Lexa added as she stepped closer, her voice impossibly soft, "I would very much stand in the way of whoever or whatever would try to trample you."

Clarke grinned, very much aware that, not so long ago, these were not words she could have ever imagined Lexa Woods telling her.  

* * *

As she had the last time, Lexa insisted that she walk Clarke back to her apartment. After a night full of laughs, great food, and Lexa's hand in hers, Clarke still didn't have her fill and so didn't tease Lexa too much for also wanting to enjoy every last second. When they made it to her door, Clarke turned around and leaned against it. Tonight couldn't end here.

"By the way, you were wrong earlier. My vision isn't the reason for this." Clarke waited a beat before playing her last hand: "It's not the vision I thought about that night after the rooftop."

Lexa's mouth parted open and she glanced at Clarke's lips.

"I was going to," Clarke continued, "but it didn't hold a candle to how you made me feel when you grabbed my hand."

Lexa swallowed when Clarke reached for her jacket to tug her closer. "How did I make you feel?"  

Clarke pulled her in until their foreheads touched. "Warm. Dizzy."

"Dizzy on a rooftop? That's a safety hazard."

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you trying to make me laugh?"

"They're not mutually exclusive."

They broke into laughter anyway. Lexa leaned in to kiss her, only to stop just as their lips brushed.

"You never told me about your vision," Lexa pointed out. "Not… not exactly."

Clarke smiled, smug. "Oh you want details, hm?"

"I'm a journalist. A thorough account would be nice, yes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her before crushing their lips together, unbelievably pleased when Lexa moaned and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Shut up, journo," Clarke husked between kisses.

Lexa kissed her with little restraint then, moving until Clarke was pressed against the door. Each one of Lexa's kisses felt like something special; like finally she'd shed her old fears. Clarke didn't even want to think of not being close to Lexa right now. The night couldn't end - not like this. She pulled back and gazed at Lexa, trying to catch her breath.

This close, Clarke could commit to memory every detail of her face. She'd always thought she got a good look at Lexa at the café, even with the counter between them, but it was nothing compared to this. Lexa's lips were full and at their most tempting when slightly parted, betraying her own desire. Her eyes were hooded now, longing, and Clarke had little doubt hers reflected the same want. She threw caution to the wind:

"Come inside?"

Lexa hesitated, visibly torn.

"We don't have to do anything. I have a nice wine we can try. Some of Gus's tartlets left over. We can even sit with the box between us. I just… I don't want tonight to be over yet."

* * *

It was not what she'd had in mind. She swore it. Nevertheless, when Clarke found herself straddling Lexa on her living room couch with the box of tartlets discarded on the floor (the tartlets well finished by then), she couldn't remember why the hell not.

Maybe the air had already been too charged by the time she wiped her thumb over Lexa's lip to catch a crumb there, and maybe Clarke had liked playing with fire, but now she was well on her way to being burned. Lexa's hands palmed her ass while they kissed, but it was the boldest she allowed herself to be and Clarke was quickly reaching her breaking point.

"Touch me," she pleaded between kisses.

Lexa let out a choked moan when Clarke reached for her hand and guided it to her breasts. She paused, looking up. The green in her eyes had darkened, especially in the dim light, and she breathed deeply.

"Clarke…"

"I know, I know, just - something. Anything." Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's. "I feel like a fucking teenager."

Lexa let out a small laugh before kissing her sweetly, slowly. It had the soothing effect she had intended, and before Clarke realized it, Lexa had lied her down on her back. She hovered over her, then looked down at her cleavage and pressed her lips against the exposed skin.

"Is that better?" She asked.

"Close…"

Lexa let out a hum against her skin, pressing another kiss lower. Clarke brushed her fingers in Lexa's thick hair, digging just slightly in her scalp, surprised when Lexa let out a small moan and then froze with wide eyes, like Clarke had just found her secret.

"Oh," Clarke breathed out, her smile widening. She repeated the gesture, pressing her fingers just a bit harder.

Lexa immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them down on each side of Clarke's head.

"Don't do that," she warned her, breathless.

Clarke smirked. "I think I will."

"It was just a reflex," Lexa blushed. "It's been a while."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, happiness bubbling in her chest at how comfortable she felt with Lexa's body slotted between her legs. "Well, I'm very happy to find out whatever draws out those sounds from you."

Lexa seemed to realize just how close they were, locked together with their fingers entwined. And just like the rooftop when she'd suddenly grabbed her hand, her expression changed. Confident. Eager.

She sat back, eyes trailing down Clarke's body before she let go of her hands to touch her thighs.

"You like control, don't you, Clarke?" She asked. She ran her hands up her thighs, caressing them slowly. "But not now."

Clarke nearly lost her breath, not expecting the way Lexa had shifted so quickly from embarrassed to self-assured. She watched as Lexa drank her in, from her bunched up dress to the fast rise and fall of her chest.

"Touch yourself," Lexa told her, and then leaned down to brush her lips against hers. "The way you did after the rooftop."

"Lexa-"

"I want to watch you."

Clarke nodded, her hand trailing down her own body to the bottom of her dress. Lexa watched as she reached beneath the fabric, eager to follow her command. She slid her hand beneath her tights, beneath her underwear, moaning at the relief when she finally touched herself. She knew Lexa could feel her heat; knew they were both reaching a point of no return. It had started when Lexa had kissed her at the start of their date, but Lexa's hands on her ass while they'd kissed had awakened her completely.

Lexa briefly glanced between their bodies, groaning when she saw Clarke's hand moving.

"Is this how you did it?" She asked. "Two fingers?"

Clarke let out an obscene moan, too far gone to care. "Three," she whimpered.

Lexa's jaw clenched, but her control was remarkable. "Did you imagine it on the rooftop? Me inside you against that wall?"

Clarke's eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip. "Yes. Fuck."

She swiped her fingers over her clit, but the angle and her tights restricted most of her movements. She was fairly certain Lexa knew it. Lexa leaned down again, kissing her neck.

"How did I fuck you?" She asked by her ear, one hand reaching up to lightly brush against her breast.

Clarke panted, fighting the unbearable need to penetrate herself. She needed release, and fast, but a part of her was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"You pressed me against the wall," she revealed, burying her face in Lexa's neck. With her free hand, she dug her nails in Lexa's ass, feeling a thrill when Lexa bucked against her. "And then- I… I needed more. I needed you deeper."

"So I turned you around," Lexa guessed, squeezing her nipple over the fabric of her dress.

"I- oh, fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you inside me; how well you'd fill me," Clarke said, her middle finger trembling from the angle, desperate to inch inside herself.

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathed out in the space between her neck and shoulder. Her lips felt like heaven against her skin. Clarke couldn't get enough.

"Clarke," Lexa repeated, raising her head. "Look at me." It was softer then, more of a plea.

Clarke opened her eyes and felt her movements slow down. It was like experiencing déjà-vu, except of course that was impossible. They'd never done this. But she suddenly realized it had all started here. She'd had her vision on this very couch and here she was - not fulfilling it, exactly, but close. Yet what she'd seen and even felt had never been like this. It had been purely physical - an erotic thrill in her otherwise predictable life. But she hadn't felt her heart beating out of her chest. She'd had a sense it was more intimate than what she was used to, but hadn't been able to quite grasp what that meant. She knew now. Their intensity wasn't so much physical as it was emotional.

She felt safe with Lexa. They still had so much to learn about each other, but she felt safe. And Clarke had never realized the importance of it. Lexa had trusted her with her pain and her heart - that wasn't something Clarke took lightly. It was a feeling not even her vision could have conveyed.

"Fuck, wait, wait, stop," she abruptly panted, pulling her hand out of her underwear.

Lexa backed away immediately, but Clarke sat up to stop her from moving off the couch.

"Lexa, I… I want to be with you," she said, as if remembering her vision had suddenly clarified everything. "When you're ready, I want to be with you completely."

"I want that too." Lexa still seemed confused, or maybe surprised Clarke had done the equivalent of dunking ice cold water atop her own head.

“Right. And - this is fun. I-” Clarke’s eyes briefly closed as she bit her lip. “Fuck I really want to get off-”

Lexa smiled.

“-but not like this.” Clarke reached out to cup her cheeks. “Not without you.” She kissed Lexa briefly, barely a brush of lips, and watched as her eyes followed her every move so tenderly. “Not if I don’t get to touch you too.”

"Clarke…"

Clarke shook her head, kissing her way down Lexa's jaw and neck. "Not if I can't see all of you. Can't hear you moan my name." She licked over Lexa's pulse, enjoying the way her hips bucked against her. "Not if I can't taste you while you come undone."

Lexa pulled back and brushed away some of Clarke's wild strands of hair. "Such words… You should be a journalist."

"I hear they have egos."

"Oh yes, terrible."

"I'm glad I found one that's not so bad then."

They smiled at each other, then took a breath.

"Sorry," Clarke sighed. "I feel like I'm the one giving you whiplash now."

"No, it's only fair. If anything I admire your restraint."

Clarke leaned back against the arm of the couch. "Maybe you'll just have to work harder next time."

Lexa smirked. "I can do that." She glanced at her breasts. "At least I made new friends."

Clarke let out a laugh, enamored. "Alright, well, you and my tits can pick up this conversation another time. I need a shower and if you're not gone in two minutes, I'm definitely dragging you in with me."

Lexa hummed in agreement.

After Clarke walked her to the entrance and watched Lexa put on her shoes and jacket, they lingered in the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight," Clarke said. She had never felt like this before - a part of her desperate to find a way for Lexa to stay. A way to prolong the conversation. To ward off the night so that Lexa and her could just live in this moment a while longer. "The play, the food, this… Everything."

She hoped Lexa felt the same.

"Trust me, it was my pleasure," Lexa replied, her face still slightly flushed.

"You've set the bar high."

"You took me to a secret hike. I was just trying to catch up."

At Clarke's smile, Lexa bit her lip and toyed with the button of her jacket. "Anya used to say I reacted to everything with either fight or flight. I didn't prove her wrong when I left for Costial, but I don't want to run away again."

Clarke nodded in understanding.

“It just… creeps up on me sometimes,” Lexa continued. “I could be having the time of my life one second and the next my chest gets tighter and the world gets smaller. Suffocating.” She gave her a resolute look. “When I meant slow, I meant… I just need to be sure that feeling won’t come between us again." She glanced at her lips. "But… It also means that once we do cross that line, I intend to make up for lost time.”

Clarke swallowed, fighting the urge to drag Lexa back inside. "I'm a patient woman."

Lexa smiled. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Mm. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

-

[part eleven]

[pistachoz]

legally blonde, tenth doctor

pairing: tenth doctor x fem!reader

synopsis: between trips and adventures with the doctor, you finally find the perfect timing to change your look. with no pointless dress codes to follow anymore, you try dyeing your hair on your own, ending up in a string of botched outcomes and unexpected confessions.

wc: 3K

warnings: none, mild cursing maybe??

author's note: oof, this took me more than i expected and it definitely ended up being waaay more. anyway, this is my first piece of writing for the doctor -also in general- and what a better way than start with a fluffy one! i hope it turned out decent! my first language it’s not english, so you can expect some -more like a lot of- writing mistakes.

also, a big shout out to @plxstic-rose​ bc she has been my biggest supporter when i felt like i couldn’t do this, she has helped me so much ily 🥺 💞

(GIF IS MINE)

A grimace appeared on your face as the sour taste of the coffee filled your mouth, you definitely needed to bring yours the next time you stopped on earth because the alien version of it tasted like stomach bile. You weren't even sure if it had proper caffeine or it was drug-fueled tea.

With a resigned sigh, you put the cold mug in the mirrored vanity table in front of you and checked your phone. Five minutes more and you would be rinsing the red dye out of your shower cap covered hair. You lift the right side of the cap slightly, trying to peek at your tinted hair, the pale red -almost blonde- pigments made your breath hitch in a halt.

Was it supposed to look that light? Oh crap, you should have gone to the salon.

That was actually going to be the original plan. You had been procrastinating changing your look; nothing wrong with the colour and length you normally had but since you started travelling with the doctor, you didn't count with office regulations to follow anymore so you considered shaking up a bit your aesthetic. Yet, it seemed as you could never stop to take a breath and the times you did, was always on strange-named planets where your peaceful state of mind lasted a couple of minutes. So, you took it upon yourself to change your look on your own. You knew it could have any sort of downfall, but you didn't really want to nag the doctor into making a 'short' stop on earth -even though you knew he wouldn't mind- just for a date at the salon. He needed a well-deserved rest after all the uncontrollable lifesaving shenanigans and every time you came back to earth, somehow you ended up enticing some sort of trouble.

Besides, how hard could it be, right?

You barged into the installed bathroom connected to your room and locked the door as soon as you stepped inside. The last thing you needed was for the doctor to burst in looking for you while you were in the middle of this crucial transformation, and even though he was probably too distracted tinkering around the console of the TARDIS, you knew how intrusively spontaneous he could be when he finds something new. It wouldn't be a first to hear him enter your bedroom in a spur-of-the-moment with enthusiastic hand gestures and euphoric rants about alien-y stuff.

You grabbed the light blue hand-sized towel that rested upon the toilet tank and draped it around your shoulders. A jittery feeling building up in the pit of your stomach at the prospect of how your new hair would look like.

You weren't particularly bold when it came to your style, always stuck with what you could call an average look, to be fair, before the doctor, your whole life was just brimming with a never-ending stodgy routine that encased every aspect of your life. You didn't see the point of making more than few changes in your image and it was not like your office let you go too risky either.

This was going to be the first radical change in your appearance, and you were lying if you didn't say a fit of excitement was already bubbling up your throat. You didn't know what exactly had gotten into you, but you were so adamant to do something. Perhaps it was the stockpiled adrenaline from all those adventures catching up on you, perhaps this was something you were going to regret later. Either way, right now, you could only think of how satisfying it would be to finally match your current lifestyle. New and thrilling.

To be completely honest, you were also eager to see the doctor's reaction. Of course, you were not doing this because of him…well, not for the best part, but a piece of you wished it would have some sort of effect on him.

You knew this regeneration was cheekier and maybe you were reading too much between the lines but sometimes you could swear there was something more in all those subtle touches and lingering hugs. The shared gazes that let you wonder if this was just some friendly treatment or if he really meant something deeper made your mind go into a frenzy.

You also knew that appearances didn't really matter to him but the need of looking bolder and more luring was still there. You wanted, for once and for all represent how traveling with him had changed you into someone who would risk more than just a ‘change of look´. You were becoming the best version of yourself and you wanted to show him that in more than one way, but one step at the time.

Warily, you lifted the plastic cap; your sticky hair popping in every direction. Without a prior look, you stooped over the sink and manoeuvred your head under the sprout. After some unsuccessful tries, you managed to open it and began massaging your scalp with your fingertips.

After swilling away the shampoo and applying the conditioner; you grasped the towel laying around your shoulders and swaddled your hair up in a turban.

You straighten your back and stroked your hair through the towel, trying -quite poorly- to pump it dry. You didn't anticipate it to be this gruelling. In fact, you thought this would be some sort of restful hiatus from your general tense state, but apparently, this had drained you more than expected.

Resignedly, you undid the coiled towel on top of you and let your new dyed hair fall freely behind you. The air fell out of your lungs and your stomach dropped when you stared at the sight of your reflection.

You were blonde. Blonde.

What in the name of god did you do? You were so sure you followed every instruction of the flipping tint box in lockstep- well, judging by the results, you obviously had made a mistake at some point, maybe even skipped one, but how catastrophic had it been that you ended up looking like a defective version of a Weasley that had awfully light shrimp coloured hair.

A trembling neigh-like sound left your mouth when you touched the ends of your hair. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't even have any dye left to apply another layer and asking the doctor for help was ruled out. He couldn't see you like this. Nobody could see you like this, for your dignity's sake.

This was all on you. You needed to think of something. Anything.

Hats, of course! The TARDIS must’ve a good stash of those, you knew you could find something in the never-ending wardrobe. That thing was three times bigger than your flat.

Well, problem solved. You were going to use a hat until your hair grew enough to cut it or until you stopped on earth again and got the chance to go to a proper hairdresser.

Good god, who were you kidding? This was a mess.

With shaky fingers, you fumble your way out the bathroom and dashed out of your room, in search for your only resource.

---

"You won't believe what I found underneath the floor panel!" You heard the doctor's elated voice buzzing through your room before he could even fling your door wide open.

All you managed to convey was a muffled hum through your pillowed-smashed face. Too tired sulking the crime you made to your hair to turn around from your current position. Your limp body was sprawled all over the bed; arms and legs stretched at your sides with your face buried deep down the mattress.

Without waiting for a proper response, he roved across your room and resumed his explanation of his oh-so-great discover with a shit-eating grin.

You didn't need to see him to know the already too familiar gestures he was making. You could picture with the most minimal detail how his eyes would sparkle with wonder and how a contagious gleam dotted the signature boyish grin he always wore.

You smiled fondly.

You could still remember thoroughly the first time you saw him in all his glory, ranting about scientific stuff you could not understand and even though you had never seen the man before, the brightness on his eyes and the insatiable curiosity he radiated made you grin almost immediately.

You sat up slowly; grunting when you stretched your arms upwards. You moved your head from side to side, trying to stir yourself up completely awake.

"…So technically, it should be able to make the TARDIS' chameleon barrier unfroze. Well... the possibilities are thirteen out of a hundred, but I-" He stopped mid-sentence when he turned around and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He tilted his head slightly to the side and a puzzled look crossed his face like he was trying to figure out what was out of place with you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Thankfully, you had managed to find a Kangol black bucket hat. It was pretty simple; a small metal fuchsia arrow was stamped on the front and the brim was big enough to fit all of your hair inside. Still It was just not your style. Well, the other option was an animal print floppy one, the type that Lady gaga would wear. So, you had to settled with the e-girl-angsty-teen looking.

"That's new" His left eyebrow quirked curiously.

"What?" Good job; try playing dumb and maybe like that he won’t notice it.

"The hat, I- " he made a circular motion around his head "I don't think I've seen you wear one before"

"Oh, I um- wanted to try something different?" You stated but the wince in your voice made it sound more like a question.

“Right, yeah” he rushed "It's not like it doesn't suit you"

"Right" You fidgeted absent-minded with the hem of your sweatshirt, trying to think of something to break the awkwardness “So… you were saying?”

"Oh yes!" a playful glint overtaking his features “I think I found a way to repair the malfunction on the chameleon circuit and hopefully it will be better than that time I tried a block transfer computation. I was so close, well- not that close but at least I managed to build a part of the outer plasmic shell. Anyways, if we are lucky enough, we could stop travelling around looking like a 'blue box'" he raised his eyebrows, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

“Hold on, didn’t you say it was kind of unsafe?”

"Oh no, don’t worry! It’s danger-free… for the most part, well actually, it’s a 4 out of ten, maybe 5. But I’m sure the old girl can handle- "

A shrilling alarm started echoing through the TARDIS’ walls and you almost fell out of the bed when the floor started shaking uncontrollably. The doctor stumbled upon his own feet and with strained struggle and held out his hand to help you up.

"You were saying?" You muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

With one hand locked onto the doctor's and the other extended to keep balance in the middle of the tremble, you managed to head out of your room. As soon as you stepped outside, you were greeted with red flashing lights going off all around the TARDIS.

"Careful" You heard the doctor called out, his voice barely perceivable. You had to double check to understand his next words "We need to get to the console"

Both of you tried the hardest to advance without falling or tripping over. The din of your footsteps lost in the middle of the shrieking noise. You could feel the vibration of the walls crawling to your brain and rumbling. The longer you spend running, the sharper the dizziness became.

You felt his hand clasp yours tighter when you decreased your speed; a warm feeling squeezed its way through your chest instantly. He looked down at you, a small reassuring smile on his lips; he was going to solve this.

When you finally reached the control room, the doctor leaped his way towards the console. A string of garbled mumbling fell under his breath, which you were more than certain you wouldn’t understand even if he spoke up. You saw him go around the panel, flicking switches and pressing buttons but it didn’t lessen a bit the state you were in.

You stood next to the entrance holding onto the railing for dear life. Maybe you should have been trying to do something useful, but quite frankly you had no clue as to what was going on. And even if you could have done something, there was no way of giving more than a few steps without falling.

After several confused exclamations and scrunched up faces from the doctor, he stumbled his way to the other side of the room and kneeled next to an opened floor tile. He plunged into what used to be a makeshift storage and with a newfound enthusiasm, you heard him shout. "Found it!"

He reappeared back on sight and held a small cassette-looking thing, his hair sticking up in a messier way than usual and a triumphant grin spreading on his features "The resetting format key should be able to stabilize us."

With a quick motion, he stood up but before he could head back towards the console to plug it in, an abrupt shook threw the both of you across the room. You saw the doctor’s figure fall hovering over a coral column next to the panel as you held tight on the railing stronger, attempting unsuccessfully to stand still.

Maybe if you hadn't been distracted watching how the doctor got up and toss his weird-looking key into one of the TARDIS’ inputs, you would have noticed how your apparently well-put-cap was now laying on the floor a few meters away from you. And maybe, if you hadn’t been so awestruck at how quickly the room returned to its normal state with golden cozy lights shining from the ceiling, you would have notice your now-bright blonde hair flowing behind your back without a care in the world.

"Right, so it looks like the TARDIS went into some sort of safe mode." He spoke a little out of breath, arms still hunched over the panel "but it's okay now. Apparently, it was a defense response, she thought it we were under a- "

He turned around slowly but stopped dead on tracks when his eyes landed on you, or more specifically- on your hair. His once furrowed eyebrows were now raised, almost touching his hairline and open awestruck eyes were looking at you like you were an unknown species. A breathtaking unknown species.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Every part of his body was just not responding, it was like he had stopped functioning properly. His unblinking eyes were glued to your face and his agape mouth looked almost comical; you would have taken out your phone in that moment just to snap a picture if your brain hadn’t been dozing off at the reason for his reaction. Because what could possibly- Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You moved your gaze to the ground, eyes falling on the discarded hat near the entrance. You pursed your lips, thoughts running a mile per hour. When did it fell? Why weren’t you careful enough? This was the doctor’s fault. Yeah, all his fault. He had to come with his incredibly soft hair and that flipping sweet smile that made your toes curl up and your heartbeat race like there was no tomorrow. He had to come and distract you, oh and of course, bringing a mess along the way.

God! This was not helping.

“You- um, you are…blonde” Yeah, no shit, sherlock.

“I-…am I?” The breathy words rasping out, your mouth felt as dried as the Sahara and you were surprised a sound came out at all.

“You look-”

“I know” You close your eyes and shook your head, praying to whatever entity out there to swallow you up and throw you to the Bahamas “it wasn’t supposed-“

“I like it” he blurted out “I know you don’t need any sort of validation and I’m not trying to- what I-” He starting flapping his hands around in a cartoon-like gestures “you look stunning… truly stunning; not that you weren´t before. I mean, the colour really does suit you but I’ve always thought- blonde, not blonde, you’ve always been beautiful… Guess what I’m trying to say is that when you love someone, there’s really nothing that can make you look at them differently. Did you know that As’urs considered blonde people holy? Well they would if there were blonde people. Sorry, totally off topic, but they do. Everyone there is blue-haired. And there’s a lot of mystical myths and clergy influence involved but basically everything golden is sacred for them. If we go, they might even crown you as their queen.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could imagine the red alarms in his brain going off, trying to process what fell out of his mouth moments prior and desperately attempting to conjure something up but instead just causing a short circuit in the process. To be completely honest, you weren’t any better.

You felt your heart bumping up your throat and your skin grew hotter and hotter per second. You swore you could feel the maniac rhythm of your pulse piercing through your head and you were quite sure you looked like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the funfair, with eyes nearly falling out of your skull.

Because he didn’t really say that, right? Your mind must’ve been playing some sick game with you. There was no way, he really-

“What?” It was all you managed to muster; your small voice barely hearable.

“Huh?” You saw the redness from his cheek expand through all the visible skin.

“What did you just say?”

“That As’urs would consider you a goddess?” He asked hesitant with a guilty expression.  

“No- before that”

“That the blonde hair looks good on you?”

“No! I-“ You took a small breath “Do you love me?”

You could sense the confidence returning to him like a tidal wave, a serious expression overtaking his features, but with a softness you couldn’t comprehend. “I always have”

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you towards him. You stopped when your noses were almost touching and you could feel his hot ragged breath fall on your eyelashes. With hesitation, you placed your hands on his arms and looked up, letting yourself fall on those brown pools you have grown to love.

“Doctor…” you whispered

You had no idea what made you do it, but you moved your hands to his cheeks, and you kissed him. It was impulsive and stupid, and something you’d expect a sixteen-year-old girl do on her prom night. But you did it without a second thought. And for a moment you felt the doctor grow incredibly still, mouth unmoving and eyes wide open, until you placed your soothing fingers on the back of his neck, thumbs caressing and drawing invisibles circles on his sideburns.

And so, he gave in; firm hands grasping your hips and pressing you flush against him. His mouth spilling raw passion and his insides melting at the soft contact of your delicate lips. The tenderness on his touches and intensity of his lips drawing out all those words that didn’t need saying, because you knew. He was so sure you knew.

An involuntary whimper left your lips when he broke the kiss and intertwined his hands with yours. He brought your joined hands nearer and placed a light kiss to your knuckles.

“Did I mention I like your hair?” A husky laugh fell from your lips and your eyes sparkled when he gave you a soft smile that would be imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

When he looked at you with those old eyes that sung you stories in the most beautiful way imaginable and his swollen lips ghosted a smile you knew things were going to be better, with new adventures and new experiences awaiting on your door. And you had the whole time and space at your disposal to face it together.

author's note pt.2: OK that was a lot, honestly the ending got sloppy and there’s probably a lot of bad editing, but I invented a whole new alien species, so hey! kudos for that I guess. anyway, i hope you like it! and as always, feedback would be really appreciated, a comment or a like would mean the world to me! like my description says, requests are open! but It would probably take ages for me to finish it, so please patience. right now I have some more doctor who drafts and also some marvel ones!

-love, rina xx

[gay-otlc]

Monsters- Chapter ב

Previous chapter

Summary (changed from last time btw): Eyphah has monsters in hir head. How much do the monsters have to control hir life before ze becomes the monster?

Content warnings: OCD/intrusive thoughts/trich, religion, cursing, low self esteem, violence, lmk if I need to add anything.

Playlist (if anyone’s curious)

Word count: 1762

“Monster,” ze whispered to hirself again, as ze walked through hir door. Ze swallowed and put on a fake smile. “Shoshanah! I’m home!”

No response.

Heart thundering, Eyphah rushed across the hallway and up the stairs, footsteps echoing loudly. “Shoshanah!” ze yelled again, ripping the door open. The lights were off, bed empty, sheets slightly ruffled. Hir eyes flicked around wildly until they fell upon a sheet of paper resting on the nightstand.

Eyphah exhaled, grabbing it.

Eyphah-

I know you get worried when I’m not here, so sorry to worry you, but I had to fill in for Yakov at the hospital. I won’t be home until late, so you can have dinner without me. I’m alright and I love you!

Love,

Shoshanah.

“Fucking idiot,” Eyphah muttered, setting the note down and rubbing hir temples. Why did ze have to freak out every time Shoshanah didn’t answer immediately? Why did the monsters in hir head have to fill it with images of Shoshanah lying in her bed, unable to move, dying before hir eyes- or already dead.

And ze was still fucking anxious. “She’s okay,” ze muttered again, shaking hir head. Hir eyebrows itched. A lot, like the fear of stabbing someone with hir sword and finding Shoshanah dead had all physically manifested in hir left eyebrow, needing to be extracted from hir body.

Ze pulled.

And pulled again.

And pulled again.

And then wrapped hir hands behind hir back and sat on them, determined not to pull again.

And pulled again.

“I fucking hate you!” ze yelled at hirself. Frustrated, ze stood up and grabbed hir notebook, opening it to the most recent page.

Reasons I don’t want to die:

I want to learn the new sword move.

I love Shoshanah

Shoshanah loves me

Maybe I’ll find a new ahav

No babka when you’re dead

NO RUGELACH WHEN YOU’RE DEAD!

The thought makes me feel sick

I don’t want to die

I don’t want to die

I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die

Eyphah remembered writing that. Ze’d been baking; latkes, was it? It was Tammuz; last month, and one of the summer ones, but ze hadn’t wanted to let the wrong season stop hir from enjoying latkes. The rest of the memory was a bit blurry. Ze opened up hir drawer to get a spatula and flatten the latkes, but hir gaze fell upon a knife.

Ze imagined grabbing the knife instead of the spoon.

Ze imagined quickly thrusting the knife into hir chest.

Ze imagined bleeding out on the floor, Shoshanah coming to discover hir body and screaming.

Eyphah hadn’t opened that drawer since, nor had ze baked.

It was sad. Ze used to love baking.

Baking and sword fighting; those were hir favorite things to do for fun, but the monsters in hir head made hir terrified of that. What would happen next? Would ze have to avoid Shoshanah, someone she liked to do for fun as well?

Do you even love Shoshanah? Or are you just her ahav out of pity?

“SHUT UP!” ze screamed, and wrote down ten reasons ze loved Shoshanah.

The way she bites her lip and looks down when she finds a joke funny but doesn’t want to admit it’s funny.

Her kisses. She tastes like strawberries.

The way her eyes light up when someone calls her a girl.

The little twirl she does when she wears a dress.

Her singing voice for Havdalah prayers.

Her determination to help others.

When she talks about picking her name and has this sweet little smile on her face.

The way she flaps her hands when she’s happy.

How her hand fits in mine perfectly.

Her laugh, like sunlight.

When Eyphah was thoroughly convinced ze actually loved hir ahav, and wasn’t just faking it and toying with her feelings out of some sick sadism, ze threw the notebook down and paced across the room, trying to release the nervous energy bubbling up inside hir.

Normally, when ze had this buzz of energy, ze tried to get it out by practicing with hir sword. But that wouldn’t work now, would it?

Convenient.

Until hir stomach rumbled, ze had no idea ze was hungry, but ze gratefully accepted the distraction of going to get food. Ze was good at baking, but terrible at cooking, and ze hated using the stove anyway- too big a risk ze’d set something on fire. Bagels, maybe? Shoshanah bought bagels yesterday, and they should have at least a few left. No cream cheese, though; ze’d have to use a knife for that.

Eyphah focused on the motion of hir legs, lifting one up and swinging in front of the other, over and over again, until ze reached the kitchen, because otherwise ze’d get too lost in hir own head to move.

Even without cream cheese, the bagels tasted pretty good, and ze ate them quickly. After reciting the birkat hamazon, the sound of hir voice stopped echoing through the house, and it fell silent. Ze was just alone in here, and it was dark out, and there was nothing stopping the monster in hir from taking over.

Maybe ze should go out into town? Ze hated being around people, always had, and ze was probably a danger to them, but maybe it would be better than being alone in this empty house. Eyphah shifted hir weight on the chair as ze thought, and even the creaking seemed to whisper monster at hir.

It was official, ze had gone insane, and Eyphah needed to get out of this fucking house.

After pausing just long enough to leave a note for Shoshanah- Shoshana didn’t worry like ze did, she probably wouldn’t need it, but maybe it would be nice- ze changed into a cleaner shirt, short sleeved and white like before, but not covered in imaginary blood stains. Then, ze left the house and decided to walk to the jewelry store, hoping to get hirself a new magen david necklace.

It was raining lightly outside, the sky clouded over with grey so ze couldn’t see any stars. Disappointing. Other than that, Eyphah didn’t mind the rain much; sure, hir hair was getting wet, and hir scalp where ze had a bald spot, but it felt kind of nice. Calm. Ze could almost imagine that the rain was washing away all the evil that lived inside hir.

Almost.

Slowly, ze breathed and focused on the noise of hir shoes clicking against the pavement, of the rain gently pattering on the windows of the stores surrounding hir. It had been such a long time since ze just focused on what was going on in the world around hir. Most of the time, ze was too caught up in hir own head, obsessed with the past or dreading with the future. Eyphah let hir eyes linger behind hir a little too long, or narrowed hir vision on the world ze was hurtling into, and and never took the time to look around.

It wasn’t so bad.

Ze ran a finger through hir damp hair, making it look a little more presentable, before walking into the jewelry store. Was it even open this late? Maybe ze should have checked that first. But the lights were on, and loud voices flooded the building, and there were people in there. It felt much warmer than hir empty house.

“Eyphah! Shalom!” someone called, and ze started a little, not having expected to be welcomed. It was easy to forget people liked hir, when ze struggled with liking hirself so much.

Ze waved, responding with “Hey, how’s it going?” Hopefully, if ze initiated a conversation, whoever called hir name would come closer to hir and ze would figure out who it was. Their voice wasn’t instantly recognizable.

They did, in fact, come closer; Chaim, Eyphah remembered. They had been extremely close as children; he had done an aliyah at hir B’nai Mitzvah a few years ago, and while they hadn’t spent as much time together recently, they were still good friends. Eyphah smiled a bit.

“Pretty good,” Chaim said, grinning. He was usually grinning, his slightly crooked teeth showing and dark eyes lighting up. His hair had gotten longer since the last time ze saw him, dark and curling around his warm, copper colored face. “I’m getting a boat soon, finally. I’ve been saving up for years.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy for you!”

“Yeah, I leave in a few weeks, but I’ll be sure to write. How about you, anything interesting going on?”

Eyphah tugged at hir hair, a few strands coming loose. Chaim must have noticed the bald spots, wider and more obvious than the last time they’d spoken a few months ago, but he was nice enough not to comment on it. Nothing very noteworthy had gone on in hir life recently, especially not something ze’d want to share with people.

“I’ve been working on sword fighting more often,” ze said finally, omitting how terrified ze was of hurting anyone. “Gotten pretty good at it.”

“Nice! Please don’t stab me though.”

That’s what I’m worried about. “Haha, I won’t,” Eyphah said weakly, clawing at the skin where hir neck sloped into hir shoulder and tearing it off.

Chaim took a step forward in line as whoever was at the front left. Eyphah followed. “A lot of people here, huh? I thought there’d be hardly anyone.”

“Tu B’av is coming up soon, I guess. A lot of people buying their ahavs jewelry.” Eyphah usually made Shoshanah a cake for Tu B’av; ze supposed ze’d have to come up with something else this year. Hopefully ze didn’t disappoint her.

“Right. Forgot about that.”

Eyphah nodded, shoving thoughts of disappointing Shoshanah out of hir head. “Are you here buying anything for your ahav?” ze asked, the corners of hir mouth turning up.

Chaim snorted. Eyphah had thought he would find that funny, considering he had never and would never love people like ahavs, the mere thought that he would was ridiculous. “I was hoping to get earrings, actually,” he said once he stopped laughing. “Lost my old ones.”

“Disaster,” ze teased.

“You’re one to talk, Mx. I got my hair cut because I burnt it cooking.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You love me, bitch.”

“I do.” Eyphah smiled again- a real genuine smile!- and leaned against Chaim’s wide frame. He made hir feel like a person. That was nice. Ze had forgotten what it was like to feel like a person, not a monster.

[captainsassmanes]

Follow up to It’s the Little Things

Alex poked his fingers between the blinds and slowly lifted them, hoping not to draw attention to himself. 

It was 9am on a blazing hot Saturday and he’d been woken by the sound of a weedwacker whirring right outside his window. He didn’t have to look to know exactly who it was, but he was curious as to what the fuck Michael was doing.

He’d be lying if he said the image of Michael, shirtless and sweating, didn’t turn him right the hell on but this was getting out of hand.

After Alex had spilled his guts, throwing his insecurities into the wind before thinking about where they’d land, he couldn’t get up. He lived for helping Michael, for finding ways to give back, to make some kind of difference, however small, in the other man’s life. 

Michael had managed to call him on his bullshit, though. It was Alex’s way of staying involved, of being as close to Michael as he could be without physically being near him.

But he’d pushed too hard and it really was over. 

That first night was awful. He replayed their conversation, or the word vomit he’d spewed, nonstop. He drank, and then drank some more, until he woke up on the couch, stiff and barely able to move with a headache that made blinking agonizing.

After a puke, a coffee and some eggs, Alex had taken Buffy outside and sat in one of his patio chairs, taking in his house, his car, his stuff.

It meant little now.

The thought of Michael, of their potential relationship, possible future, had quietly been keeping him going all these years. To have that hope extinguished...he didn’t have the words to describe how empty he’d felt.

His chest ached as he went inside and opened his laptop, starting his search for the country’s top cities. He knew he’d want to live somewhere busy, populated, but safe. His job could easily be remote once his re-enlistment period was up, plus he had quite a bit of money saved so he could take his time getting readjusted.

New York City and LA definitely had his attention, the music scenes alone would be worth the trip, but the apartments were tiny, and he may end up having to sell a kidney to pay his rent. Miami wasn’t his scene and Seattle looked like the type of place to send his depression spiraling.

He grabbed his third cup of coffee and moved to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and making room for Buffy to rest her head on his lap. He found another one of those top cities lists and was intrigued by Portland. LGBT friendly, relaxed people, music scene, not so far that he couldn’t visit if he wanted to.

That afternoon was spent clicking through photos, checking out postings for apartments, falling down a YouTube spiral of some artists who got their start in the city.

The next day, feeling a bit better with a plan under his belt, he’d ventured outside to Beam Me Up for a cup of coffee and a snack. On his way out, he literally bumped into Maria.

“God, sorry. Did any of that spill?”

Alex just blinked, an uncomfortable wave of jealousy moving over his skin and pinching him where it landed.

He shook his head and said, “no. It’s okay.”

She gave him a smile as they stood awkwardly in the doorway. He wanted to say something, even if it was small or unimportant, just something to break the ice, but his instincts telling him to get home were clouding his thoughts.

“Michael mentioned he saw you the other day.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. They hadn’t spoken in weeks; nothing more than worthless pleasantries and she knew why; he’d been honest with her. He’d also felt he’d been fair, leaving them both alone to their relationship, not interfering or getting involved.

At least he’d thought that was what he’d been doing.

But now, as he stared at his oldest friend, watching as her face changed to apprehension, maybe realizing that playing the we can connect over Michael card was the wrong move, he felt angry.

“I’m moving.”

Maria stepped back, surprised. “What?”

Alex nodded, looking around the street, hoping he looked as relaxed and casual as he was aiming for. “Yep. When my enlistment period is over.”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times, small sounds trying to become words escaping. Eventually, she was able to croak out a, “where?”

Alex shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Portland looked interesting. I’m looking at a few apartments there.”

The silence took over again as the street became a bit busier with the weekend tourists coming out to enjoy the weather and the sights. Maria’s hair bounced, the ends of her head scarf wrapping loosely around her throat. “You’re leaving because of me, right? Because of me and Michael? You can’t just go because – “

“I have no reason to stay, Maria.” Their eyes met and both sets were filled with a sadness neither could describe. Alex’s heart felt too heavy in his chest, memories of late nights and shared shakes and tears and joints and hugs threatening to leak out of his eyes. Instead, he smiled. “My time here’s up. I did my part but it’s time to see something new.”

With that he turned and walked to his car, coffee cup shaking in one hand while his fingers curled painfully around the bag in the other. Fuck he missed Maria. But he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look at her the way he used to again.

It was that night, his excitement dwindling and replaced by a quiet desperation, when the first text had come through.

Don’t leave.

Alex stared. Obviously, Maria had told Michael about their chat. Maybe he felt bad, a twinge of guilt. Alex hoped he did, then felt guilty for hoping Michael felt guilty. This was exactly why he had to leave.

He ignored the text and went back to his computer, sipping on a beer and occasionally giving Buffy some nice scratches behind the ears.

His phone pinged again. Alex stared at it, hoping his glare would make it blow up or something. In the end, curiosity got the best of him and he looked at the text.

Don’t leave me.

Alex’s heart raced as his fingers moved without thinking.

You wouldn’t come with me anyway.

He turned his phone off and tossed it across the room, not caring when it bounced along the wood floor a few times.

He didn’t sleep well after that. Thoughts of car rides and spaceships and apartments and soft blankets and bright sunshine and honey curls played behind his eyelids every time he tried to rest.

The further away from Michael he was, the better it’d be for everyone.

The next morning his doorbell rang at 8am. Alex had thought it was a part of his dream at first, cuddled up on a firm, warm chest, wiry hairs beneath his fingers while nails scraped his scalp, lulling him back to sleep. When the buzzing continued, he was thrown back into reality with a big, empty bed and a headache to boot.

Grabbing his crutches, he went to the door and threw it open, shocked to find Michael on the other side looking clean shaven with a cup of coffee.

Michael looked…different. Yes, the beard was trimmed, maybe his hair, too? His clothes were definitely clean. But there was an energy, an aura, around him that Alex hadn’t seen in years. One side of Michael’s mouth lifted, an almost bashful smile, and he held out the coffee cup. Even Michael’s fingernails were clean. Alex lost some time staring at those nails and remembering the comfort they’d brought him in his dream just moments before.

Michael cleared his throat, bringing Alex’s attention back to the moment. “Whole milk and one sugar.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Michael shrugged and pushed the cup gently into Alex’s chest. “Bringing you a coffee. Good morning, by the way.”

Alex would later blame the broken night’s sleep for the dreamy way he’d whispered out, “good morning,” while accepting the cup. He took a sip and was instantly in his glory. His favorite coffee from his favorite café made perfectly delivered by his favorite…

“Well, have a good day, Alex.”

While Alex stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open at a loss for words, Michael sauntered back to his truck and drove away.

It had fucked with Alex for the rest of the day.

After that morning, Michael made appearances most days. A delivery of a burger and fries one afternoon, randomly bent over the hood of Alex’s Jeep for a tune up a few evenings later, dropping off a case of Alex’s favorite beer. Each time Michael came around, the conversation was limited. Michael would smile, explain why he was there and, as soon as he was finished, he’d smile and say goodbye, driving off once again.

Alex hated it. It was so confusing and contradictory, it made him fucking furious.

Alex really loved it.

He was seeing more of Michael than he had in years and Michael was absolutely different but in a way that suited Michael, not as though he’d changed to fit someone else’s wishes. He looked great and seemed healthy. Happy.

Apparently, today was clean up the yard day. With a sigh, Alex turned from his window and looked at Buffy with her head raised and cocked to the side in concern.

“Yes, it’s Michael.” Buffy’s tail wagged furiously. “You little traitor.”

Alex watched him for a few quiet minutes, taking in every detail, from the way his curls looked almost blonde when the sun hit just right, to the pattern of body hair scattered across his torso, to the flex of his legs when he bent and stretched.

He’d realized the other night, as he sipped on one of the beers Michael had bought him, that he’d stopped looking at apartments, collecting more information on Portland. All it took was for Michael to notice him and his universe tilted, and its center of gravity became Michael once again. That was the first night since their fight he’d allowed himself to cry again.

With a sudden surge of resolve, Alex threw open his drawers and grabbed whatever clothes his hands touched. He took the time to get his leg on, wanting to feel stable and steady for whatever came next.

By the time he got outside, Michael was leaning against the bed of the truck looking like a tan god, bottle of water to his lips, head tossed back with his face covered in sunlight.

Taking a deep breath, Alex charged ahead.

“I want a reason.”

Michael startled a bit, lost in his own thoughts, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Alex couldn’t help but stare at the dampness his hand missed.

“What reason?”

“Don’t be coy, Michael. It’s not cute.”

Playfully, Michael pouted while batting his lashes. Alex wanted to laugh and scream and cry and hold Michael, confusion and caution warring within him.

Alex looked at the ground, noting a nasty scuff across the toe of one of his boots. He pushed his foot into the sand and whispered, “why are you doing this to me?”

Michael made a quiet noise that sounded hurt and stood straight, blocking out the sun from Alex’s face. “To you?”

Alex looked up and fell into hazel eyes. He nodded. “You’re not actually trying to talk to me. But you’re being- being really kind and generous. I don’t understand.” He shook his head this time and took a step back so he could think. “You told me to get out of your life, I say okay, and then you come flying back into mine.”

Michael shook his head and started digging around the bed of his truck, apparently looking for his t-shirt to throw on as well as his trademark hat. Turning back to Alex, he shrugged and pulled out his car keys.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, Alex.” The silence between them felt thick with opportunity; to be honest, straightforward. Just a chance. “But that night I…” Michael scoffed and broke eye contact, looking around at Alex’s house. “You’ve got a loose shingle up there – “

“That night you what, Michael?”

With a sigh, Michael continued, “I knew that might be it. I know I’ve pushed, and you’ve walked and recently I’ve been pushing a lot harder but I just, I dunno, never let myself imagine you not being in my life somehow.”

Alex crinkled his eyebrows, confused yet again. “If you didn’t want me to go then why say all that shit about – “

“I have been drowning for years, Alex. In booze, in sex, in work, in regret. Just fucking drowning. Then you came back, and your dad was the fucking devil and then my mom and Max. I couldn’t separate it all out. Everything felt like it went back to you.”

Alex nodded, feeling the familiar creep of guilt working its way into his gut. “And I said I understood all of that. I gave you as much space as I could.”

“Did you?”

Alex sighed and dug his hands into his pockets, wishing he had something in his hands to keep them better occupied. He could either choke Guerin at the moment or pull him into a suffocating kiss. He couldn’t decide.

“I guess I didn’t.” He blinked as the next thought smacked him across the face. “I’m not as strong as you, Michael. I can’t know you’re nearby and struggling and do nothing.”

Michael shook his head, taking a step closer to Alex.

“That’s why I’m moving. I can’t stop myself from being in your orbit and you made it clear that’s what you wanted. It’ll give me a fresh start, too, you know. No one’ll recognize the Manes name. No one will care. I can just be another face out there, have a little anonymity and figure out what I’m doing.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Alex groaned. “C’mon, Michael! You just came here not that long ago bitching that I sent you some food! I’d think you’d be thrilled that I’d be gone.”

Michael laughed. Alex watched as his face changed with the humor and his heart broke a little to see how much younger Michael could look when he relaxed. Even if just for a second. “I told you stay away. You didn’t. I told you again stay away and then you did. Then I couldn’t stay away and now you’re gonna leave. Can we just say the fucking things we need to say and stop doing this?”

Alex took the challenge at face value and straightened up, nodding his head. “Fine.”

“Why did you do all those nice things for me even when I told you to stay away?”

“Because I love you.”

The ease with which those words slid from Alex’s mouth surprised both of them. There was something freeing about the honesty, of finally just saying the words out loud to Michael without fear of rejection or consequence.

He took a deep breath. “Because I love you and I was worried about you.”

Michael licked his lips and looked away, nodding in understanding.

“Your turn,” Alex whispered, pulling Michael’s attention back. “Why do you keep showing up here when you told me to stay away?”

“Because I regretted everything I said as soon as I said it.” Alex lifted an eyebrow, not fully understanding. “I thought I needed distance. Not seeing you all the damn time helped me focus on other things. And I did tell you the truth; I didn’t think we were good for each other and I really, really wanted to be good for Maria.”

Alex took a step back, feeling the burn in his throat start at the mention of his friend’s name when Michael’s callused fingers wrapped around his wrist. “The second I realized I probably pushed you completely out of my life, I regretted it. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to stop caring. I want to be better. I just – “

Michael stopped and took a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed as his voice began to crack. Alex slowly shifted his wrist from Michael’s grip and gently held his fingers in his own.

Michael sighed, “can you ask me one more time?”

Alex nodded. “Why do you keep showing up here when you told me to stay away?”

“Because I love you.”

They stood together in the blazing sun, sweating and staring at one another as though the world had fallen away. The moment was broken when Alex’s eyes shifted to Michael’s turquoise belt buckle. “But you love Maria, too.”

Michael nodded and watched helplessly as Alex let go of his hand. “I do. But I love Maria the same way you love Maria.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what that means.”

“She’s my friend, Alex. That night we fought I had an epiphany.”

“An epiphany?”

“Yeah. You probably already know this but I’m an alcoholic.”

Alex’s head whipped up with concern in his eyes. His mouth moved but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Michael took it as his cue to continue. “I’ve also been a shit brother to Isobel, so I’ve been working on that. But the morning after I left here, I talked to Maria. Told her how I was feeling, she talked about her feelings and, we both just told the truth.”

“Which was?”

A smile tugged on Michael’s lips. “That we both love you.”

Alex cleared his throat, doing his best not to start crying. “I’d like to get back to the alcoholic piece of this, and I’m glad you’ve stepped up to support Isobel but, uh, are you and Maria still together?”

Michael shook his head. “Not for about, what? Two weeks now?”

Alex nodded. “Okay.”

“Go out with me.”

Alex waited a beat, making sure he’d heard clearly before repeating, “okay.”

“The Crashdown? Lunch tomorrow? Around 12?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

Michael smiled and closed his truck. Slowly, he took off his hat and leaned in, kissing Alex on the cheek. They were both just piles of sweat and beet[TS1]  red, but Alex thought it might be one of the most romantic moments of his life.

“I wanna do this right, Alex. From the beginning.”

Alex smiled. “Me, too. I’ll see you tomorrow. For our first date.”

Michael laughed, his youth bursting through every pore. “For our first date.”

[thisisthehardestthing]

This Is The Hardest Thing - 2

CHAPTER 2

Synopsis: A exchange student from the US in enrolled into UA when her father has to move to help with the increased crime rates in Japan. The final year of high school is a lot to handle, adding on top the class of 3-A and the trouble they get into will make for a wild ride.

Author’s note: Switches to third person in the middle. I hope it’s not complicated lol. I have been reading this chapter over and over and over again trying to tweak it but I think this is the best I’m going to get it. After this chapter, the plot is going to get a jumpstart in a new direction.

Triggers: swearing

Word count: 3.4k

@whats-her-quirk​ , @aizawascumslut 

CHAPTER 1 , MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 2 - BUTTERFLIES

Sun’s setting earlier, you mused. Different to what you were used to. The cool breeze of this morning was back. In a few days, it would officially be autumn. Your chest rose as you took a deep inhale. The scent of sweet grass lingered in the air as though it was recently mowed. There was a sigh of content that escaped your lips.

You walked to the dorms that you were to live in. Large doors loomed in front of you as you dragged your purple suitcase over the stoned walkway. The 3-A was hanging above the entrance painted in white on the red brick.

During the last class of the day, you were called to the reception to fill in some forms about the living arrangements, and received the key to your bedroom and front door. You recalled the amenities mentioned by the smiling receptionist; a full gym, kitchen, laundry and bath area’s. Your suitcase had also arrived, being couriered directly from the airport. You had only one that wasn’t even full, so it had felt like a waste to not have waited for it yourself.

As you stood in front of the large doors to the dorm house of Heights Alliance, the butterflies in your belly managed to start up again, wings fluttering and getting caught in your intestines. There you stood in front of the closed front door, not knowing what to expect on the other side. It almost felt as if you were supposed to knock before entering, even though you now lived there too. Your eyelids shut as you took a breath before gripping the handle with white knuckles.

The floor was wooden. A light birchwood that bent and bounced under your weight as you walked across it. Inside the large front room, the lights were bright and gave the room a warm glow. Some of your new classmates were sprawled in the lounge area, watching T.V. It was a collection of arms on the back of the chairs, legs thrown over the top of pillows. Mineta was sitting on the floor near the tv as an actress was jumping off a building, almost as if he could look up her skirt from his angle.

There were dishes clattering in the kitchen, it was carrying voices arguing about who is cooking and who is washing up. Kirishima wants barbecue meat, Momo wants a green salad with plently of fried sides to share. You heard them come to a decision of a mixture of both. Todoroki was standing in front of sink, filling up empty ice cube trays with water. It was as if the house was both the eye and the storm at once. They were working together in a neat chaos and you took it all in as you walked in.

The sounds of your footsteps and the bag wheeling behind you caught the girls’ attention and they all rushed to you. Mina and Uraraka gave you a welcoming hug. Your intestines unwound and you forgot why you were nervous in the first place.

“Finally! We were wondering if you were going to be living with us in the dorms or not!” Mina gestured, linking her arms with you like when you first met. She was extremely friendly and put you at ease with how natural it felt to talk to her.

“Yeah, I am. I had to go fill some stuff out before I got here.” You replied, smiling back at her.

“Awesome,” She said with a thumbs up, catching you off-guard because it was in English, and your smile widened. You pulled your arm out of hers and fumbled for your room key in your pocket.

“What room is 2-3?” You ask, showing the girls the yellow tag.

Mina, Tsuyu, Momo and Uraraka said they would accompany you up to your room.

“Do you mind if we help you unpack?” Uraraka asked, footsteps lightly padding on the floor as you made your way to the staircase, past the kitchen. “We want to get to know you! There are so many boy’s in our class, it’s nice to have another girl to talk to.” You heard a laugh that bordered on a bark.

“HA! As if she’s a girl.” Bakugo roared out, still bitter that you had the upper hand for a few seconds during the short fight. Kirishima grabbed him in a headlock, pulling him down low. Your eyebrows shot up as he was able to keep a firm hold on the neck, not faltering under the strength of Bakugo’s threats and tugs. He had a grey gym tank on that had wide armholes. The movement had shifted one so that half of a dark brown nipple was on display.

“Ignore him,” He flashed a toothy smile. “He just needs to get used to you. Kind of like a dog.” You gave Kirishima a small grin in return. Your eyes snapped back to Bakugo who had set off an explosion against Kiri’s side to free himself. The girls dragged you up the stairs as they rolled their eyes.

“See what we mean?” They all giggled.

Your bedroom was on the second floor, the third to the right of the split hallway. You unlocked the door. It swung open with ease, as if welcoming you home.

There was a simple bed with light grey covers folded neatly on the end. A dark wood desk and chair to do your work on, a set of drawers and a single closet, that already had some school uniforms hanging, courtesy of dad. The mini-fridge and microwave was snugly against a marble counter that had storage space both above and below it. There was an attached bathroom with a toilet and a sink. It was a bare room, which was fine because it meant you could decorate it throughout the year with things you come across.

Your bag fell heavily on your bed and Mina jumped on after it, giddy with excitement. Uraraka explained that they wanted to see what kind of clothes you wore in the USA.

“Well, I don’t want to disappoint you, but it’s pretty normal stuff.” You laughed. They were acting like you came from another planet. “I also don’t actually own a lot of things, so I’m sorry if it’s not up to your expectations.” The purple trolley bag was now unzipped and open. Tsuyu peered over your shoulder as everyone looked at the items. They watched as you hung up your clothes and they chatted animatedly among themselves, handing you some of the shirts and jeans.

It felt good to be talking to other girls your age. Ever since your mom left, it had been you and your dad. The people in your old school had started to shun you after a particularly bad incident with your quirk, which is why you didn’t want to bring it up for as long as possible. And the girls were fine to not talk about what it was, instead bringing up other topics. They’d seen how you’d danced around the questions about yourself from Midoriya’s examination during lunch. He’d been scribbling a notebook about your father but you had changed the topic as soon as he asked about you.

“Oh my!” Momo interrupted as she saw your underwear. It was a rather large collection of thongs, some lacey, most plain. Yet you only owned three bra’s in total. “So skimpy!” She lifted one up by the waist band and stretched it out gently, blushing red. You grabbed it from her, your own face and ears going pink, burning hot.

The girls fell down in their laughter. You quickly gathered it all up and stuffed it into a dresser, deciding to sort it out later.

“I like nice things” you shrugged, closing the drawer quickly.

“What else can we expect from the land of Victoria’s Secret?” Mina wiggled her eyebrows.

They soon left you to your own devices to sort out the rest of your room, welcoming you to UA as they closed the door.

It was 1 in the morning when you were finally ready to climb into bed, having just changed into your red night dress. Everything was meticulously packed away, and you were happy with the way the day turned out. Three framed photograph’s of your family sat atop the dresser. You were about 10, gap toothed smile on display with your parents staring lovingly at each other behind you. The other two were more recent pictures of you with each of your parents after their divorce.

But then your stomach rumbled and you moaned as you realized you had never eaten dinner. You raked your fingers through your thick hair, pulling it against your scalp. How could you have completely missed it? That’s also when you realized that you had not looked at your phone the entire day, and had no one’s numbers. Which was a shock. Your body was still not used to the time difference, so you convinced yourself to head downstairs since you wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.

Maybe there are leftovers? You thought to yourself as you shrugged on a thin, white cotton bathrobe and padded quietly down the hall with your bare-feet to make your way to the kitchen. The nerves in your feet hummed in response as your quirk begged to be used.

*************************

Bakugo was definitely not expecting to see anyone. He’d went to the gym after dinner, training until late and was once again hungry. He’d just finished a shower, drops were dripping down his neck. Fingers combing through the blonde hair to fluff it back to its usual points as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping when he saw the light was already on.

Who else could be awake at this time? He thought to himself, eyebrows knitting together as the corners of his mouth turned down.

He really did not feel like talking to anyone and he was exhausted from the extra hours of exercise, so he had every plan of ignoring who else was in there until he saw her. The sight of Rei’s back to him made his blood boil, white-hot heat exploding in his body. It was a melting pot of hormonal lust, embarrassment and knowing there was an unfinished fight. It was made worse by the red nightdress hanging on her body. It dipped into a slight V, showing half of her back. She was fit and muscular, it was obviously the kind of body only achieved by intense training. He found her insanely attractive, which pissed himself off even more. He was 100% focused on being the top hero when graduating at the end of the year. He did not have time for feelings. Especially when it was only normal hormonal lust. So he redirected the anger onto other things: the punching bag in the gym, the sponge he scrubbed himself with and at Rei.

He watched in the shadows as she opened the fridge, bending forward slightly to scan the contents. Her short nightdress rode up, dangerously close to the fold of her ass and he felt his hands begin to sweat. His frown deepened. It felt stifling hot in the dark common area and if he wasn’t already shirtless, he would’ve been pulling at the neck to try and get some air. She straightened up, not finding anything that would satisfy the midnight cravings, and her dress dropped again to a somewhat respectable length.

What an idiot. Dressing like this in a common area. He thought to himself, then he saw the bathrobe on the table that had been taken off when she thought no one was going to be there. He wondered if she was as warm as he in that moment.

He heard a huff and she put one hand on her hip, the contours of her shoulders muscled reflecting in the warm glow of the kitchen and moved the hair that was over her shoulder to the back, thick strands covering smooth skin. It bounced with the movement, natural highlights glinting from the hours she would spend in the sun. It was almost mocking Bakugo for staring so intently.

He watched as she moved to inspect the cupboards and scowled when his designated doors in the corner were opened. Rei’s hands lifted up above her head as she reached for a cookie tin that was just out of reach, her dress lifting up one again. Part of him wished for it ride a little higher, the other part of him wished she would crawl back to the hole she’d come from. It was his cookies that he saved for whenever he wanted a treat. There was no way he was letting her take some. They were his.

*******************

The cookie tin kept shifting away from your fingertips as you made a grab for it, pushing it back a little further each time. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you stretched up onto your toes. You huffed as it scooted all the way back and you dropped back down onto your heels. Someone tall must be their owner to store it up so high, or someone wanting to keep it hidden. Your stomach grumbled again, egging you on for the sweet snack.

Fine. You grumbled, stretching your arm out, hand open. To an outsider, it seemed as if an invisible string was connected to the tin, dragging it from the shelf as it flew into your hand. But what you felt on the inside was pure bliss. It was the first time you used your quirk, in weeks. You loved the rush of endorphins it gave you to have control over the object and you smiled. The cool metal of the tin vibrated against your palms, double chocolate chip goodness gripped firmly.

“Oi, new girl!” A gruff voice cut through the silence of the kitchen and you froze, painfully aware that you were naked underneath the dress. Pivoting on your heels, you saw Bakugo standing across from you, leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed across his bare chest. His biceps and shoulders bulged, nostrils flared.

How long has he been standing there? You wondered. Usually nothing could sneak past you, especially when your feet could feel the vibrations of everything.

Then you realised he saw you. It was nothing impressive, just moving a small object to you, but it wouldn’t be long until the rush of power it gave you would call out to be used again.

“Is that your quirk?” He sneered, with an eyebrow raised, “controlling cookie tins? That’s so shitty.”

You frowned. It was anything but that, but you learnt your lesson a few months ago when people challenged you and it went horribly wrong, and so you bit your tongue.

“Whatever, I’m not trying to impress anyone.” You retort back, opening the lid. You saw his eyes dart to the cookie tin, pupils narrowing.

“I don’t think you can impress anyone even if you tried.” He snapped, his hands dropping to the counter behind him as he leaned back. The pose was relaxed, inviting you to prove him wrong.

“Oh yeah?” you challenged, slamming the tin on the countertop, taking a few steps forward. If he wanted to fight, you wouldn’t back down. You were now a meter away from him, and you puffed your chest up to show that you weren’t going to take any of his shit.

“Yeah, dumbass. You fight like a girl, can’t even punch right.” You had to look up to him. Even though you were tall, he was still a few centimeters above you. His eyes glanced down at your chest before glaring at your eyes again. It was so fast that if you weren’t paying attention, you most probably would’ve missed it. The purple bruise on your sternum that he gave you was bright against the skin of your chest, perfectly in between the sun and moon tattoos underneath both your collarbones. His eyes glinted wickedly.

Your body moved before you knew what you were doing. You stuck right your hand out diagonally, a few centimeters away from touching him. He didn’t flinch, eyes traveling to look at your outstretched hand, raising an eyebrow.

“What’re you going to do? Throw the cookie tin at me? Hah.” He barked, laughing at his own joke.

You held your tongue and just dragged your hand horizontally through the air. Your toes pressed into the floor, feeling for the vibration you wanted. His eyes followed your hand and before he knew what was going on, the cupboard door behind him opened and smacked into the side of his head. He grunted and you turned on your heel, walking back across the kitchen. You were no longer hungry, angry at a man that taunted like a child.

“What the fuck!” Bakugo shouted, his voice echoing in the empty space.

“What are you going to do? Swear at me?” You spat back his own ‘insult’. Your comeback felt sour on your tongue. It wasn’t any good, but you were pissed off and anything you said seemed to make him angrier, which was fine with you. “I was going easy on you during training today.”

His nostrils seemed to flare at that last sentence. The palms of his hands began to steam and spark. There was nothing he hated more than people not giving their all when fighting, people thinking they had to hold themselves back when fighting him.

“YOU WERE WHAT!?” He bellowed, his fists clenched. “I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS BACK TO AMERICA!”

If you weren’t already used to intimidating men in New York, you probably would’ve flinched at his shouting, but instead you squared your shoulders and started walking back towards him, your own fist closing. You both pulled back to launch punches at the same time. Then, the air got freezing cold and Bakugo’s fists came crashing down as two thick balls of ice wrapped around them. If he weren’t as strong as he was, he would’ve fallen to the floor. Instead, they dropped to his sides, making his shoulder droop down with the weight. A look of complete shock came across both of your faces and your heads snapped to look at the source.

Shouto Todoroki was standing behind the dining room table, looking extremely pissed off in his beige pyjama set. His half-white, half-red hair messy and shadowing his eyes.

“Can you guys please just shut up and go to bed. You’ve woken up the entire building.” He said, voice dripping with contempt. A slew of curse words erupted from Bakugo’s mouth as he lifted up the ice to bang them against each other, trying to crack them open.

You felt your nipples harden in the now cold room and grumbled, once more aware of just how bare you were. You grabbed your dressing gown that was on the dining table. Wrapping it around yourself as you walked back to the cookie tin to put it away. Bakugo seemed to ignore what Todoroki said, instead calling out to taunt you again. There was no way he was going to let this go.

“What, don’t want to eat the cookies anymore? Fine with me, you were pretty fucking heavy.”

You froze. Through the vibrations, you felt Bakugo adjust his weight to lean back, pleased that it granted a response from you. With the cookie jar away, you strode back up to face him for the final time that night. Shouto tensed up, ready to interject once more. It was a low blow, Bakugo knew it too but his chin was raised indignantly.

You said nothing as you stood in front of him. Your eyes searching one another for a hint that either one of you would back down. The balls of ice were already melting and forming puddles by his feet, the cold water spreading to tickling your toes, so you twisted them out. The cupboard door that you had opened next to his head slammed shut. The loud noise echoed in the kitchen and you turned away from the irritating man.

“Sorry, Todoroki. Good night.” You nodded to him and walked back to the stairs, fuming with anger. You could just hear Todoroki mumble about the time to Bakugo and a scoff in reply, but you couldn’t care enough to pay attention anymore, his insult replaying over and over in your mind.

****************

Thanks so much for reading Chapter 2! <3 Hope you liked it.