#i wrote this on a laptop that doesn’t even belong to me!!

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"NIGHT TIME RELIGION"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 2.3k+ → a/n: just a simple, sweet glimpse into what our favorite idiots' nighttime routine is like. probably got a little too poetic with it, as always <3

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

“You fell asleep again.” 

It’s not a question, just a mere observation. Eddie doesn’t even put any emphasis on the key word there, that it had happened again, as he glances up on you sprawled out on his couch. 

“Nuh uh,” you childishly rebuke, ironically squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you let your cheek nuzzle deeper into the page of the textbook you’d been taking notes on, “I’m… I’m wide awake.” 

Every word painfully slurs with your next, voice mostly muffled. If he hadn’t been so close to you from where he was sitting on the floor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make out what you’d just murmured. 

It only makes him laugh softly as he focuses back on whatever piece of equipment he’d brought into the apartment that belongs to his bike, “Sure you are, sweetheart.” 

The coffee table is spread with hand towels and paper towels alike as Eddie fiddles with the hunk of metal. You hadn’t even prodded him about what it was he was fiddling with; you were too busy, knee deep in your studies as you’d made yourself comfortable in his living room. 

It was a normal routine now – something cozy, something domestic. Instead of being holed up in your dorm these days, you found yourself occupying apartment 2C far more frequently than you’d ever admit to anyone else. Half the time, the two of you didn’t even have plans. It wasn’t about elaborate date nights or purposeful hangouts anymore; these days, the two of you simply enjoyed one another’s presence. It was enough to just know he was there with you, in the same room, as the two of you were occupied with your own individual tasks. Sometimes, he would be reading a book as you wrote your essays. Sometimes, he’d steal your laptop to shop for new bike parts and accessories online as you caught up on your favorite TV shows. There had been plenty of phone calls with Nancy in which Eddie had let you simply rest your head in his lap, hands mindlessly carding through the scalp of your hair as he tried to offer assistance to his best friend’s daily troubles and rambles. 

It was nice, and it was normal, and it was something the rest of the world would have to pry from your cold, dead hands. 

The apartment could have easily become something akin to a prison after the bet, but it hadn’t. Instead, somehow and someway, you and Eddie had turned it into a proper sanctuary.

You no longer spent lectures daydreaming about returning to your dorm; your mind much preferred longing to return to Eddie’s room, to picture falling face down in his bed, where the pillow on the right side had begun to smell of your shampoo rather than his cologne. 

“It’s getting late,” he sighs when he hears you go silent again. He’s not annoyed by any means. If he had it his way, he’d probably curl up on the couch with you for the rest of the night, content to fall asleep to the view of your face smoothing out in peaceful rest. But he knows if he leaves you be, you’ll wake up with an aching back and an attitude that makes even Harrington cower. He puts down his project for the night, wiping his hands on a damp paper towel before he reaches blindly behind himself to give you a few taps on your rear, “C’mon, we need to get ready for bed.” 

You swat his hand away, and it only makes him grin, “It’s not that late. Plus, I’m comfy.” 

“It’s half past eleven, baby.” 

And oh, do you shoot straight up at that. 

Your eyes are finally wide open as you look at him wildly, face struck with confusion, “Excuse me?” 

“I said, it’s half past ele-”

“When the Hell did it get so late?” you fumble with yourself as he slowly gets up, making a show out of stretching all his limbs. You don’t even grow distracted when his arms reach well over his head and tug up his shirt, exposing that sliver of stomach that would normally entice you, “I swear to God, it wasn’t even ten like…. Ten minutes ago.” 

“Ten waking minutes ago, maybe,” he teases, holding a hand out for you, “Time flies when you’re napping instead of studying.” 

It’s hard for him to not smile so softly down at you right now, even as he watches the defeat take hold. Your entire outfit is compiled of his clothes, yet another t-shirt you’d snagged from him along with a pair of sweatpants that he can’t even remember the last time he’d worn them. Your hair is messy, falling out of the convenient style you’d fashioned in it hours before when you’d declared you needed to focus. Your shoulders sag, the corners of your mouth inch downward, and all he really cares about right now is getting you in bed so he can wrap himself up around you. 

Your eyes dart between his outstretched hand and your textbook, still open on a page that you’d embarrassingly drooled on, “I know we joked about celebrating when I aced my finals, but can we still get milkshakes when I absolutely flunk them?” 

The way you manage to melt his heart is impeccable. He doesn’t even have it in him to be snarky, or to make another menacing jokes, “Of course we can.”

That seems to make your decision. You finally reach out and take his hand, clearly trying to be dramatic as you pull on him with the entirety of your weight, almost as though your end goal was for him to actually end up beside you on the couch rather than to be standing beside him. 

If your goal is the former, you fail miserably. He doesn’t budge beneath your drag, only leaning forward to grab your other hand and properly haul you off the couch. 

“Oof,” you huff out as you collide with his chest from the force, letting your face smash into him and making no move to pull back, “Can’t you just carry me to bed? Is that an option?” 

He almost says yes. Almost. 

“We won’t even make it down the hall,” he chuckles, taking slow steps back, guiding you right along with him, “I may or may not have also dozed off at some point. Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“Is it?” 

You’re hardly lifting your feet, shuffling your way along, letting him walk you deceiving to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He has no idea if you’ll be capable of doing your full skincare routine, but at the very least, he has to get you to brush your teeth. If he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. 

“It is indeed,” he finally stops walking backwards, deciding it might become more dangerous rather than just dragging you along, “Probably won’t get a ruling until morning, so we might as well brush our teeth now, doll.” 

He’s trying to sweeten the deal. Coaxing you with adoring pet names to keep you in motion. 

“Ugh, effort,” you crunch your nose as you say it, and it’s clearly more for show than anything now. You’re fully conscious, capable of getting yourself to the bathroom sink where both your toothbrushes now sit side-by-side in a glass cup, but you don’t let go of his hand just yet. 

His palm is warm, and right now, all you really wanna do is curl up in that heat. 

Eventually, though, you let go. The two of you stand in the mirror as you go through the motions of wetting your toothbrushes, applying the toothpaste – all the boring, mundane actions that are more habit than conscious choices. But interspersed in the habits you’ve gathered over your years of life are new ones, minimal but vital after the amount of time spent together. Proof of the way this nighttime routine had become something of a religion between the two of you, something to be offered and to be shared rather than simply going through the motions. 

The way Eddie carefully rolls the end of the toothpaste tube before passing it to you, simply so it’s easier for you to get your share of it. The way you leave the water running after you’ve wet your own brush just so Eddie can also do so. All the sneaky glances caught in the mirror as the corners of your mouths foam up. Every ridiculous face, every nimble bump of your hip to his, the way he sticks out his very white tongue at you before he spits out into the basin – new things that have all become the normal, but still settle warmth in your chest.

Things that water a garden of vinery and blooms that no longer only belong within the confine of your bones, but his as well. 

A shared garden of memories and comfort. Growing, flourishing, nurturing one another. 

You lean down to spit right before him, and when you take a second too long, he tugs on a strand of your hair, trying to move you. And even as tired as you are, you find it within yourself to be a little shit as he so lovingly mumbles out around his toothbrush, lingering until he’s bumping you with his hip with purpose. 

Passing the floss back and forth (or more like you shoving the floss into his hands before he can try to argue against it), using the same paper cup to sip mouthwash out of – something so bland that you used to do it alone, now something to enjoy with him. 

You kind of love it. You kind of love him. 

“Should I wash my face?” you question, leaning in closer to the mirror and poking at your cheeks, checking your skin for any blemishes you can find. 

Eddie only moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and making the entire ordeal far more difficult as his chin rests on your shoulder, “Not if you don’t feel like it. Besides, it’s gonna make your nose cold, and then you’re gonna press it all over my damn neck and-” 

You cut him off with a joking glare, reaching up to flick at his nose, but he’s quick to pull his face out of your reach. Smiling widely, showing off those fresh and minty pearly whites. 

“If my cold nose bothers you that much, I could just stay on my side of the bed tonight,” you scowl, even though you were already taking his advice and calling it a night, twisting out of his hold to flick the lightswitch and exit the bathroom. 

He’s still stronger as he keeps his arms in place, only twisting himself around to face the door frame right with you, whining in your ear, “No.” 

He drags out the ‘o’, his voice slowly growing more quiet the longer he draws out the vowel. At some point, it’s less than Eddie has ended the protest, and more that he’s just run out of breath. 

His arms only leave your waist for the two of you to get dressed in proper pajamas. Well, what you both consider proper pajamas. 

You, left in only his shirt and underwear, and Eddie simply in his boxers. 

There’s no more sarcastic comments or lazy banter, although you certainly expect it. You’re almost holding your breath for it, right up until Eddie’s lifting his comforter and eagerly motioning for you to climb into bed first. Not one smartass remark about ladies first that could easily backfire on him as you shoved him into the bed before you. 

No, he waits until the two of you are lying on your sides, facing one another, not quite touching when his face breaks into a radiant smile. 

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, overly suspicious of his random burst of happiness. 

“You call it your side of the bed.” 

At first, you don’t get it, “What?” 

“You called it your side of the bed,” he repeats with the utmost emphasis, finally throwing his hand out in search of your own, pulling it up to eye-level so he can toy slowly with each of your knuckles. 

“Is it not?” you’re whispering like two children at a sleepover, your feet finally drifting to toe at his calves. If they’re too cold for his liking, you don’t know. He doesn’t flinch or complain, only spreads his legs ever so slightly so there’s a space left for you to fill as you intertwine limbs. 

“It is,” he confirms, nodding a little, finally slotting his fingers between your own, “Just nice to hear you say it out loud.” 

And suddenly, you get it.

It’s your side of the bed. It’s your toothbrush resting beside his. Your textbooks and laptops are still on his couch, you have a sticky note with a reminder for yourself to buy more milk  put up on the fridge, there’s now a space for your shoes at the front door right beside his daily boots – slowly but surely, you’ve whittled out spaces for yourself here, with him. 

Even when you’re not here in this apartment with him, your presence remains. Someone could walk in, and they still see traces of you. You exist here, constantly, right along with Eddie. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, finally scooching closer. He immediately shifts so that you can cuddle into his side, your head resting against his chest and your ear pressed to listen to his thrumming heartbeat. A perfectly carved out space for you even here, between this sheets, against his skin, “It’s nice to say out loud.” 

Not a routine, but a religion. Something to worship in the quiet hours between the sound of quiet snores and a noisy coffee maker you already have plans to replace as a Christmas gift to Eddie. An apartment turned altar, with offerings from both of you, to all that has and could become. 

You whisper your final prayer, just as you do every night, even when you think Eddie might already be fast asleep, “G’night, Eddie. I love you.” 

He’s not already asleep. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

[ayoharuko]

Genshin Impact Bf Headcanons

 Hi everyone I'm back yay!😊

I'm feeling a bit better so i decided to just make a part 2 instead of snoozing around....

I hope u guys enjoy this part and I'm sorry for the wrong spelling or bad Grammer.

I also apologize if the headcanons are a bit occ or not canon at all these are headcanons after all. i wrote this on my laptop

Also one more thing I'll apologize for is sometimes the writing style will change like last time it might look nice and now its....just a bit not nice?? Does that make sense? sorry sorry I'm getting side tracked....

I just had my adhd moment−

oh even if i wanted to copy the same style as i did last time I'm too lazy to check the last post probably cause I'm derived of sleep and surviving with coffee ok fr imma stop-

REMINDER: All these characters belong to hoyoverse and does not belong to me (•ˋ _ ˊ•)

Anywaysss hope u enjoy this!

(Liyue Boys)

~Ajax my boi~ (Childe, Tartagila)

~Possessive Boyfriend~

• I had a debate between possessive or overprotective since he's technically both, a cunning fox and a blood thirsty wolf, but possessive takes the cake for me hahaha

• He doesn't like people's eyes on you. makes him jealous but he also likes peoples eyes on you. makes him prideful to show off that your he's

• Definitely leaves marks on you like obvious places too!

• If you fight or have a vision and can fight expect him to train with you, help you with your tasks and spar aka fight with you just to see who's stronger lmao

• Buys you expensive gifts when he's away(That fatui money yuh~✨)

• PLEASE BE CAREFUL NOT TO MAKE HIM JEALOUS. i feel like if he gets like really jealous your walking card....gone bish✨ and that person ✨G O N E✨

• Like when you met traveler he full on THOUGHT that were flirting with you and actually kind off threatened them-

• He siblings/family already adore you even if they haven't met you yet, they just know your a very nice person because of what teucer tells them!

• Speaking of teucer.....he probably loves you more then he's big brother....lol jk..or maybe...? But teucer loves you a lot since he sees you make he's big brother really happy all the time and also because your very nice and play with him a lot! This makes childe very happy since he knows he doesn't have to worry about he's siblings hating you.

• If you can't cook expect him to cook breakfast or dinner and also if he's free and yall live together he could also clean the house if you want~

• He always has hearts in he's eyes whenever you guys are together and for once the people around him and see a Slight sparkle in he's eyes

•  He's your overprotective but possessive wolf and he would go crazy if something happens to you...

• You guys go on dinner dates especially if your both are in Snezhnaya

• He kinda keeps you a secret from the fatui but sometimes he can't help but brag about you still being careful with he's word of course 

• He loves you...a lot...but sometimes it can be... a little....crazy

Nicknames: Mine, Babe and baby

Voice line about you: Heyyy there comrade! I see your getting quite comfy with y/n over there....what nono..I'm not assuming you of anything I'm jjust gonna let you know their mine....alright? Good! dont want you sealing them now haha!

When he talks to you: Hiya babe~ what? You didn't like the way i talked to traveler? oh come on the were sealing all your attention from me tho~!

~Old Man Morax~ (Zhongli)

~Gentleman boyfriend~

• I don't imagine him as a jealous or possessive person since he's lived through so many years he probably has high patience. However doesn't mean he's not  overprotective since he's basically lost a lot of things in he's life he always make sure your safe, your eating well, water etc always cares about your health.

• Hu tao at one point has told you both that you remind her of an old married couple....and i think she's right-

• He wakes up before you and prepares you both tea not before admiring your sleepy face of course❣

• Cooks breakfast(Imagine him in an apron😫)for you both and cleans you guys house when your at work just him being a malewife🥺

• Would always open doors for you, buy you flowers(When he has mora) and buys you thinks when he's out in liyue(Again if he has mora otherwise its childes-)

• When you first made him lunch as a surprise at work he had the most heart warming smile ever like smiling while eating the food you cooked and just praising you constantly as well. Hu tao was jealous you didn't make her lunch lol

• At one point of you guys relationship he told the whole truth about him being an ex-god and even showed he's dragon form just so you would believe him.... and thank the archons you still accepted him for who he was and loved him...

• Sometimes when you guys are at the comfort of your house he lets out he's horns and tail so you can pet or touch them which he likes very much and you end up with a big dragon on you-

• Xiao has definitely been watching over you and zhongli knows it...he's grateful that even if he's not present xiao will be the one to watch over you🥺😭

• You guys would be outside at the sunset enjoying your tea and just overall chilling...those are he's favorite moments with you❤

• You guys can be found strolling around liyue just looking at the beautiful city

• He appreciates how you try and listen to he's tales even if he knows that some of them are boring and makes you fall asleep but he still appreciates in you trying to listen.

• Arguments would almost never happen in your relationship of course excluding you guys disagreements but zhongli tries to avoid arguing with you since he hates yelling and overall just hates seeing you mad.

• Even in a million years he would never stop being over in heels inlove with you💕

Nicknames: My gem, dear and my beloved

Voice line about you: “Hm...traveler..would you perhaps think that this would look nice on y/n? You think it would? Alright then I'll be taking this then. What? Oh...m-mora i..uhm..forgot my wallet again it seems...apologies..I'll pay you back traveler”

When he talks to you: “Dear i must thank you for this....it tastes marvelous”

~Baby Xiao~ (Alatus)

~Shy But Overprotective Boyfriend~

• He's both shy but very overprotective of you. Like he thinks your made of glass so he always watches you. minus when he has to go fight demons at night of course, but he always wants you to stay at the hotel when its night time since he knows how dangerous it is when its night time at liyue. if you have errand to do however...except him to come with you even if he hates large crowds.

• He'll only come and see you when you bring him food or call out he's name. and that was at like at least a few months into your relationship with him. The reason for this is because he doesn't want he's karma to affect you since your the only light he has.

• He only eats whatever you cook as he thinks their exceptional to he's taste. girl he actually thinks your cooking is delicious thats why lol

• He LOVES headpats and LOVES kisses on the forehead. FIGHT ME I DARE YOU🙂

• When you hug him he turns red in an instant and then relaxes but sometimes(Sadly) pushes you off of him...since he's too scare of he's karma going to you😭, meaning he's always running away from you....

• But there are sometimes when you convince him to stay...and when he does stay...he lets you do whatever you please with him. Thats including kisses, reassurance, comfort and cuddles for the baby💕

• If you get hurt he instantly blames himself. So you have to reassure him that it isn't he's fault whatsoever.

• He brings you Qingxin flowers he's favorite flowers and leaves it at your nightstand if you live in the hotel its a reminder from him to you that he loves you and that he always watches over you.

• At every affection you give him it doesn't matter if big or small he always turns red since that how much he had fallen for you. 

• Ya know you'll feel like you have a guard dog always watching you....in a good way

• Always dreads the day you'll have to leave him...he knows your a mortal...he knows their fragile and weak...but he just doesn't wanna let you go...your he's only weakness and the only one who shows he's love for.

Nicknames: My light(Rarely)

Voice line about you: “What? I'm not looking at y/n...your simply imagining....”

When he talks to you: “You called? H-huh? Cuddles? I suppose it won't hurt...just this once...I'll humor you..you mortal”

~Bookworm Boi~ (Xingqiu)

~Prince Boyfriend~ 

• He might act like a prince but he is still a bookworm...but we love he's nerdy side so thats fine!

• Since xingqiu’s basically rich he definitely knows how to act like a gentleman...although before he fall inlove with you i like to think he had ignored every person who he's family set him up with..so they were surprised to find out that he suddenly took an interest in you.

• There are sometimes where he pays more attention to he's books more then you but please dont worry he loves you😊

• Buys books that he thinks makes you think of him. i mean he does have the money-

• He thought of a love story that was about you both and wrote it down...but writing it down poor Chongyun had to since our water boi’s hand-writing sucks, but it was worth it since it was very romantic and cute⁓

• He also writes poems about you and then read them to you in the afternoon under a tree while your napping either on he's shoulder or lap.

• Compliments everyday baby💕

• HE'S A MF TEASE. like you see the pranks or things he does to poor Chongyun?? I feel bad for you both😔

• When he's not occupy with a book you both are walking around liyue either buying things at stalls, books or food really anything he's down.

• Yelan watches over you both. like sometimes she'll treat you both to a restaurant and she'll sit in another table while you both have your meal(She pays for it too)Basically she observers how you both interact with each other and finds you both cute🥺

• Overall he's a real prince to you minus being a bookworm

Nicknames: My liege and love

Voice line about you: “This book reminds me of them....lets buy it”

When he talks to you: “Hm? You would like my attention? Hehe...alright then my liege..I'll give you what you want~”

~Precious Exorcist~ (Chongyun)

~Shy Boyfriend~

• Now him...he's 100% baby

• Whenever you touch him he short circuits. My boi knows nothing about girls-. Xinyan or yun jin obviously don't count, When we're talking about periods...its a different story....

• But he's very sweet and cares for you!, always senses when your upset/sad and immediately tries to cheer you up.

• Your he's meat shied if xingqiu comes looking for him...he tries to avoid he's friend quite a lot.

• Xingqui teases you both well mainly chongyung about how much he's a simp for you hehe...

• He always stutters when he talks to you. with the blush too!

• He's always on a look out for evil spirits or demons since he wants to protect you. When you have a nightmare he blames it on demons and he's dislike towards them increases.

• Like how yelan would watch over you and xingqiu. Shenhe watches over the both of you as a protector since she knows that chongyung still has a lot to learn and even if doesn't wanna admit it...she worries for you both.

• Shares he's popsicles with you💘

Nicknames:(Sadly no nickname he's too shy yall)

Voice line about you: “I-i get it now xingqui! g-geez...i..love them..a lot..”

When he talks to you: “H-how are you? O-oh fine? thats good...uhm..would you like to go to xinyan’s concert tomorrow?”

And that concludes our liyue boys!

tysm for reading this far everyone and again I'm sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

I hope u guys enjoyed this one my brain kinda hurtled from thinking this much headcanons lol

But it was worth it I'm proud to have finish part 2!. Now part 3 will be maybe after a few days and its the inazuma boys this time yay💕

But yea tysm for reading this far everyone mua mua~!💕✨

[localplaguenurse]

Oh right are y’all ready to see what the noggin had brewing during my finals?

Hint: it’s depraved, I’m pretty sure Wifey is just a my whump character now

So I was thinking about what kind of experiments dottore would do if he ever got his hands on Wifey.

I’m gonna spare you from the worst of it because I want to look at least a little bit sane

Well first he would take it as an opportunity for him to test if wifey’s body can sustain and control the geo gnosis since they have part of Morax’s power, after pantalone wants his mora.

My theory is that they can but not in the way dottore wants it, its incredibly unstable and even if he somehow placed restrictions on the gnosis to only produce mora I doubt Wifey would have the capabilities to do something like that since there are so many details in a single mora coin and not to mention they would have to produce millions of it (because with the abundance of mora, it’s value as a single coin is quite low)

And not the mention the physical effects of having a gnosis ripped out of you and then placed back in on a daily basis, it would leave them so weak and then have to repeat all over again?

Also extorting the fact that Wifey cannot physically die before Morax, I think they would only give them just enough food to survive

And that’s only normal Wifey, can you imagine abyss Wifey?

Dottore has been wanting to get childe on his surgical table for years, and since Wifey and childe have similar abilities after coming out of the abyss…. Well dottore Is going to have a field day with that

So many things he can learn about the abyss just by subjecting Wifey to experiments and discovering the secrets to the foul legacy form.

Also I wouldn’t put it past him if or when Wifey starts to become numb to it and they stop reacting, dottore would start telling them how he hunted and killed theyre children

Y’all so I wrote 90% of the answer this morning, went to check a notification and the app crashed. I started refusing my answer right now, literally set my phone down to plug my laptop in, and it crashed again. Tumblr does not want me to answer this. 

Anyways, to clarify: Wifey is the “won’t die unless directly killed” flavour of immortal. You CAN kill them, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder because the adeptal healing keeps them from succumbing to more extreme injuries. That said, I don’t imagine it allows them to, say, regrow limbs, and if the injury is bad enough it WILL leave scars and other possible damage. 

The only reason Wifey can actually handle the gnosis inside them is because they’re married to the previous owner. It’s not that it like recognizes Wifey as Rex Lapis’ wife, it’s that the healing Wifey inherited from Morax keeps them from at the very least keeling over. I also like to imagine that because it’s specifically Morax’s adeptus energy, the gnosis sort of recognizes that. It’s kinda like vaccine logic, I guess.

That said, I imagine the main BIG reason the mora doesn’t form right is not JUST because Wifey’s technically mortal, it’s that they don’t even use Geo. The Geo Gnosis belonged to the Geo Archon, a god literally MADE of geo, and now Dottore’s sticking it in a mortal* dendro vision wielder. I’m not saying stick it in a geo user, or stick the dendro gnosis in Wifey, but like... probably should’ve anticipated it wouldn’t work.

As for Abyss Wifey, god that poor thing. They hate that part of them because it reminds them of such a horrifying and traumatic time of their life. The only “good” that came of it was their Foul Legacy, because it means they can’t get hurt anymore, no one would dare to go near them. 

Not only would being abducted and experimented on because of your monster form suck on its own, but Dottore has the strength to rival the gods. Wifey won’t stand a chance, and you know what that means, right? It means that even their ugliest and most vicious side, the one born from their trauma, will not save them. It means that anything in theory can happen to them, and whatever is going to happen will be so much worse than the Abyss. 

When Wifey goes catatonic, they might not even react to Dottore saying he’s killed their children, because they know that couldn’t happen. Their children wouldn’t let that happen. Morax wouldn’t let that happen. Surely it… it’s not true. It’s not true. As the days go by with no signs of help, they’ll start to believe it more and more and have a full breakdown. They’d do nothing but cry or stare into nothingness until help arrived or...

Abyss Wifey, on the other hand, will immediately go to tear out his fucking throat. They have to be sedated most days because they activate Foul Legacy every chance they get to try and kill him. Even if help arrives, they’re not leaving until they’ve put Prime’s head on a pike. 

I should tell you to stop whumping Wifey, if only because it gives me ideas myself. Also, beta will gut us.

[whatwouldmickeydo]

I wrote this random thing sometime after season 10 aired and had planned to make it a part of something bigger but never actually got around to it.

Takes place after Ian’s release in 10x5 and before Mickey’s release in 10x6.

He’s on hour ten of a 14 hour shift, waiting in line for some desperately needed coffee while on break, the other two paramedics waiting impatiently in the rig outside. At least Paula hasn’t stopped them from having this little bit of joy yet. She’ll probably start back charging them for breaks too before long.

And then that’ll be when I finally fucking quit. Except not because he needs the damn money.

The lady at the front seems to be attempting to win a medal for how much shit she can fit in one cup of coffee. Who the fuck even mixes peppermint with caramel?

He’s glancing around the shop when his eyes lock onto another pair staring straight at him. Ian recognizes him slightly, seen him here a few times when he comes in to grab coffee for a long shift. One of those guys who never seem to specify what exactly they do for work but somehow always have a laptop open doing something.

He’s good looking, there’s no denying that – tan skin, tight shirt, slick backed blonde hair, artsy tattoos wrapping around his biceps. Not the right kind of tattoos though. Ian offers a friendly nod in his direction, gets a heat filled leer and a grin back. He knows the look, seen it enough times from his days at the club. Hell, he’s given that look to plenty of guys himself.

Ian’s finally next in line so he drops the gaze and steps up to the counter, quickly placing an order for three coffees to go.

He’s standing off to the side waiting for them to call his name when he hears a throat clear next to him, looking over to see the guy walking up to him with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hi there. Name’s Jackson. You work around here?” Ian turns to address him, slightly caught off guard at being approached so quickly.

“Hey. Uh, the rig out there is mine,” he says, gesturing out the window to the ambulance parked out front where his two other coworkers are standing outside, one of them tapping frantically at his watch.

Jackson turns to look, nodding in recognition. “Yeah, I’ve seen you come in a few times, there some medical crisis happening around here I should know about?” he says with a rakish smile, not hiding the way he’s clearly checking out Ian, eyes lingering on his lower body.

Ian flushes slightly, skin prickling at the obvious attention. He laughs lightly, scratching the back of his head. “No, nothing like that. This coffee shop is pretty close to our route and the two out there are actual coffee snobs who won’t drink shit from Starbucks.”

Jackson laughs, a little too loudly for a joke Ian thinks isn’t all that funny.

“It’s a pretty nice neighborhood, actually. Lots of cool bars and places to hang out. I could show you around sometime if you want,” he offers, and Ian thinks he finally understands what the phrase ‘batting your eyelashes’ means.

Ian glances at him quickly, trying not to make too much eye contact. “Uh, sorry dude… I’m uh… taken. I’ve got someone.” He flushes, heat spreading through his body at his own words. Because he is. Taken. He belongs to someone.

He doesn’t think a simple sentence like I’ve got someone should be having this much of an effect on him, but he can’t help it. Mickey is his and he told him he’d wait. It’s different than the last time, when they were separated by glass and prison guards, when he had lied to his face and spiraled out into madness. They’re both so different now, it’s hard to fit those parts of his life together with his life now.

“He’s a lucky guy then. If you’re both ever looking for a good time, hit me up,” Jackson offers with an easy smile and a wink, clearly not put off by the mention of someone else. He slides a piece of paper across the counter with what Ian can only assume is his phone number. He doesn’t make an effort to take it, because he already knows the answer.

Mickey doesn’t share.

And neither does he.

A sliver of want flashes through him, images of Mickey’s shit-eating grin shining bright behind his eyes, picturing that tongue curling around his teeth when he’s feeling particularly smug. God, he misses him.

He snaps out of his daydream when he hears his name being called for his order, nodding politely at Jackson before heading up to grab the coffees.

“No thanks man, we’re good.”

[lunar-gl1tch]

WIP wednesday

got tagged by @stickers-on-a-laptop

i have a bunch of wips but nothing of note, i have this whole mind fic going on and off and it's probably too big to write out but fuck it yall get the one bit i wrote down, where orbgin Juggler does his hair

from This Golden Moment - they're on a planet for an incognito mission during a several day long harvest festival, bc i say so

Juggler wakes later in the morning that he’d like, the endless daylight making him feel disoriented and tired. His hair is a tangled mess of colored dust and sweat, his scalp itchy in a way that spreads discomfort throughout his whole body. He doesn’t usually take the time to do his hair properly during a mission but in this case, he needs to make an exception.  The lavatories are communal in their accommodation, so he puts on the cool, tough linen robe he bought yesterday and pours some warm water in the basin they have in the room. Sitting in the little window seat, he pours a few drops of shiiya oil in the water -- and maybe he uses a tiny bit more than usual, it smells nice -- and starts slowly untangling his hair with his wide-toothed comb.   The sun is warm on the small of his back, and the water tinges with pinks and blues floating onto the surface, a large pink petal tumbling to rest on top of the glittery swirls. Juggler gently digs the comb deeper until he feels it on his scalp, loosening the knots created by his hair ties. The discomfort washes away with it. It’s calming. A comforting ritual. He is well aware his off ordinance hair is a luxury and the time to take care of it moreso. It’s something that belongs only to him. The memory of the comb in his hair and the fragrant smell of the shiiya oil are the only things he has left of his mother.  He’s relaxed enough he doesn’t immediately realize Gai has stirred, and is looking at him with something like cloying fondness in his eyes. Their gazes meet and Gai smiles.  “Is that why your hair always smells so good?” “You should stop smelling people’s hair,” he snorts.  “Let me use some.” “No. You barely have any hair.” Even if he has thought about gripping it in his fingers sometimes, pull just to see what kind of noise he’d make.

immmm gonna tag @timetoddddavis , @ao-ninja, @decadentmousse and YOU, if you want to do it!

[theotherackerman]

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan or the Beach Read  

Chapter Three:

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

Mikasa was at war with this story. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, uncapping it as she walked back over to her laptop. 

Nothing. 

Nothing new.

Nothing old.

Just a blank page. 

Staring at her.

Mocking her. 

If her laptop had a face, she would punch it. 

It hadn’t even been this hard to write when Porco and her had divorced. In fact, she wrote chapter after chapter. Not stopping. 

Porco entered the haunted house. 

He was torn apart by succubus because he doesn’t know how to keep his pants closed. 

Too cruel? 

 Probably. 

But I just need to get words on this fucking page or Jean is going to kill me in September. 

I was never bad at this before.

Why can’t I write anymore? 

Where is my head? 

Where is my heart? 

I’m starting to think I don’t have one. 

I’m guessing Eren is next door just cranking out his next book. 

Some lovey bullshit about how love conquers all. 

Sadly love does not conquer all. 

Especially when you're a soulless black hearted bitch whose ex husband cheated on you with your only friend in Los Angeles and your two best friends have to come pack up all your shit and then move you back in with your uncle. Where everything is hard and your thoughts constantly wander back to that time you walked in and what heart you thought you had shattered on the floor.

Love was a lie.

It would always be a lie. 

And then your ex husband calls you and tries to smooth things over. So you say you’re fine with it. You’re not by the way but you want to be the “cool” girl, the “chill” girl so you say you forgive him. You say it’ll be fine.

But it’s not fine. 

It’ll never be fine. 

Because every time someone flirts with you, you’re reminded of the last time you had someone who “loved” you. 

And you remember that love gives that person the power to destroy you. 

They always do. 

They always will. 

Mikasa’s phone went off with a text.

——-

Eren was excited for the book club. He always did well at book clubs. 

His backpack was packed with all sorts of promotional material and a bottle of wine. That always went over well with book clubs. 

Today, he wouldn’t have to think about writing his third book or the awful feelings left from the mess his father had made of his life. 

He could just focus on his new book. 

Levi had sent a text with the address of his house which Eren entered into the gps as he got into his car. 

This would be a good day. He just knew it. 

—------

Her phone rang. She shouldn't have been surprised to see Porco was calling. 

"Your friends seem to forget I still follow them," he replied simply.

"I don't think they forgot."

"Pieck is yelling at me too. Her and Jean getting together is the worst thing that has ever happened." 

"I thought the worst thing that has ever happened was you sleeping with Sandra while we were on a break in my bed but I guess that’s changed.” 

“Ouch. I deserve that. But you knew she was pregnant. I told you before I told anyone else. Even my mom, my brother. We’ve been divorced for years. I’m allowed to move on with her. I’ve apologized multiple times. I thought we were cool and then you friends started posting that shit.” 

“You act like I can control them.” 

“Do they know the whole reason we went on a break was because you told me you didn’t believe in love? That you were the one who exited this relationship before it had even happened. Now I have to hear it from Pieck and everyone else.” 

“What do you want me to say, Porco? I’m sorry! I told you I’m sorry just as much as you told me. I never once told you I loved you!”

“Then why did you fucking marry me?!” 

“I don’t know!” 

Silence. 

Mikasa swallowed. “I’m sorry. I can’t be what you need. I’ll try to get them to stop. I just….”

“I know. I’m sorry too. I just…..I don’t want it to stress Sandra out.” 

“Tell her I say congratulations.”

Porco scoffed. 

“I mean it. You…you deserve every happiness and to be with someone who can give you that. Because both know I can’t be what you need.” 

“You almost sound like an adult there, Mikasa.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know you do too. And I know you don’t believe it or in it, but I did really love you. I just kept hoping that one day you’d look and love me. But you never did. I really hope one day you find someone who makes me believe in love.”

Mikasa snorted a laugh. 

“I’m serious. You deserve it, Mikasa. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different, not even yourself.” 

Mikasa took a deep breath. “Thank you.” 

“And I’ll be the one there, telling you I told you so. I’ll throw you the biggest fucking party on the planet.” 

“I’ll post congratulations on my Instagram. Jean wants me to post again. That’ll get them to stop.”

“Why do I feel like you’re going through something more than this? Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

Mikasa sighed. 

“You know you can still talk to me. Before today, I thought we were still friends.” 

“We are. This is just something I have to deal with myself.” 

“I understand. But if you need me…” 

“I know.” 

“Sandra is coming home soon so…”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll tell her I called you and that you say congrats.” 

“Okay.” 

There was a pause. 

“You really do deserve love, Mikasa,” with that Porco hung up. 

Mikasa immediately sat down  her phone and went straight to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the wire rack that sat on the counter, uncorking, and began to drink directly from the bottle.

——

This good day for Eren was shot the moment he arrived at Hange’s place.

Once he found out that he had a brother, the first thing he did was bring up every social media piece that Zeke Fritz had. 

He was blonde, like his mother. Tall like Grisha. Wore glasses like Grisha. He looked more like Grisha than Eren ever would. 

And he was standing on the lawn of Levi’s house.

This was his half brother.

His father’s secret.

Grisha’s true heir. 

Grisha’s first born. 

Eren was going to be sick. 

But he had to be professional. 

He wasn’t here for Grisha or Dina or Zeke. 

He was here because book clubs were what sold romance books. That and social media were the two best markets for him. Since he was failing at the social media part, he could at least suffer through a few hours with Zeke. He could do this. The chance that Zeke even knew who he was low.

Eren took a deep breath as he exited the car. He walked over to the passenger side, unlocked it, and grabbed his backpack plus the bottle of wine. His grip tightened on the bottle as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“HANGE! Eren’s here!” Levi yelled as Eren made his way up the driveway. 

“Eren?” Zeke asked, looking towards Eren.

His eyes weren’t Grisha’s. They were Dina’s. That awful woman who had shown up at Grisha’s funeral, dropped the bombshell, and ruined Eren’s life.

“Eren who?” Zeke asked Levi. 

“Eren Jaeger,” Eren spoke.

Zeke’s eyes widened. 

So Zeke knew then. 

Grisha had told Zeke about Eren.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Fan of romance novels, Zeke?” Eren dared to say. 

Spite. It was pure spite that was fuel Eren right now. Zeke couldn’t say how he knew Eren without outing the fact that Dina was the other woman for years. 

“I am, actually. Read all of yours. In fact, it was my dad who gave them to me,” Zeke stated matter of fact.

If Eren hadn’t been there for work, he would have punched his brother at that moment. No, Zeke didn’t get to make Eren feel like the bad guy. Why was he feeling like that at all? 

Maybe Eren wouldn’t give this bottle of wine to Hange. Maybe he’d just knock Zeke upside the head with it. 

Before Eren could say anything else, his phone went off. 

—----------------

Mikasa Ackerman was drunk. She's drunk and she's stumbled into Levi and Hange's house. 

Porco. 

He was going to have a child. 

A child. 

She still didn't love him. She had never loved him, she thought maybe with time she would but this….this was something she had never seen coming. 

So one bottle of wine turned into more and then she found herself stumbling shoeless to Levi's place. 

The book club was happening. 

Shit. 

It was Friday. 

They all looked at her. 

Eren sat there. Of course, he was there. Of course, she was drunk. She could fake it. It had to be easy, right? Just fake her sobriety. She'd done it in college, she could do it here. 

She swallowed as Eren stared at her. 

"Hi," she gave an awkward wave. 

"Oh. Right, you sent the text you weren't feeling well and needed a ride home, right?" Eren said as he jumped to his feet. 

Mikasa just stared at him.

"Sorry, everyone. Mikasa's got the stomach flu. Nice to meet you all," Eren ushered her out the door. 

He eventually passed her and walked to his car. He opened the door for her. 

"Why did you help me?" She asked as she stood there. 

"Because that man on the couch is my half brother and I'm not ready to deal with that."

"Well, shit. Thanks. I can walk home."

"You'll end up in a ditch."

"I've been living here for two years, Eren. I know how to get home from here."

"Uh huh. You'll end up in a ditch or worse. I'm not leaving you here on the road. Come on, let me take you home."

"How did you know I was drunk?"

"I saw you on campus. You always get this red flush when you drink."

"I do not!"

"You do."

"Did you pay that much attention to me, Eren Jaeger?"

"I did. Too bad you didn't do the same. Now come on, get in. I'll take you home. I promise. That's it. I won't even ask why you're drunk."

Mikasa looked back at the house. 

"Okay," she answered before she got inside Eren's car. 

———-

First stop had been to some hamburger place that Mikasa had insisted would sober her up. Eren had a feeling it was a bad idea but he wasn’t going to argue. He was starving. He had tried to pay but Mikasa had insisted. 

Drunk Mikasa was normally not sad. Eren remembered her drinking in college. They had some friends in common so they frequent most of the same parties. 

As she lay on the hood of his car, Eren wondered why he had never got up the nerve to dance with her except for that one time. 

Oh. Right. 

Because she was beautiful and he thought she hated him. 

“Did you hate me in college?” 

Mikasa turned towards him. “What? No!’ 

“Oh. It’s just that….they way you talked about my writing, I thought you hated me.” 

Mikasa snorted. “You really want to have this conversation while I’m drunk?” 

“Is there a better time to have it? It’s either that or what’s bothering you.” 

Mikasa picked up the coke she had ordered and took a drink. “I talked about your writing that way because I was jealous. You had a way of making every situation better. You were like this fairy tale prince.” 

“Yeah, I heard you said that.”  

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s a compliment. You know the prince always saves the day, gets the girl, and rides out into the sunset.” 

“And who are you in this scenario?” 

“I’m not in fairy tales.” 

“Right. You’ve got the dark stuff covered,” Eren rolled his eyes. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” 

“Yeah. You always act like you’re too good for a happy ending.” 

Mikasa sat up. “I’m not too good.” 

“Could have fooled me.” 

“Oh! And I suppose being all sunshine and lollipops isn’t a cover for something! At least you already know how it’s going to end! The couple rides off into the sunset, they have three kids, and picket white fence! The end! The hard part for you is over!” 

“Are you saying writing romance is easy?” 

 “When you have the ending figured out, the rest is easy.” 

“Bullshit! And you think writing the same depressing thing over and over isn’t easy? Your writing is always angst, angst,sad emo shit,  and more angst! Just kill all the characters off one by one and have them make every wrong decision. No one is happy! The end!” 

“I bet you can’t write it. Because if it was easy, why don’t you write it?” 

“I will!” 

Mikasa scoffed. 

“Let’s see you write a romance novel!” 

“Maybe I will! Since all the hard work of the ending is already done for me!” 

Somehow, during all their arguing, they had moved closer to one another. Eren’s hand was inches away from Mikasa’s. 

“I…uhh….” The words wouldn’t come to him. He could see her staring at his lips. 

He wanted to kiss her.

Right here.

Right now. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Mikasa jumped down off the hood of the car and proceeded to puke into the grass next to the car. 

Out of instinct, Eren pulled her short hair back out of her face. 

After she was done, she looked up at him. Eren noticed how vulnerable and depressed she looked. Something more was going on with Mikasa.��

He desperately wanted to know what but it wasn’t his place. Maybe this friendship between them could become a real friendship. Not just the awkward neighbor or friend of a friend. 

“Come on,” he said as he took a hold of her hand and walked her to his passenger side door. “I’ll take you home.” 

————-

Mikasa fell asleep on the ride home. 

Eren went to check if her door was unlocked. It wasn’t. 

He walked back over to Mikasa and saw keys on the floor next to her shoeless feet. He picked them up, unlocked the front door, and then went back to the car. 

He simply carried her inside and laid her down on the couch in her living room. 

When he went to leave, her hand grabbed his just for a moment. 

Was Mikasa awake? 

Then she let go and rolled over. 

Eren stood there for a moment, just watching over her. He randomly remembered Twilight and felt like Edward was not something he ever wanted. So he exited her house and locked the door behind him. 

——-

Mikasa was in hell. 

There was this annoying ringing noise that kept repeating over and over. 

Her head was pounding. 

Wine. 

Burgers.

Throwing up. 

And then nothing. 

She had thrown up in front of Eren. 

Her eyes shot open. 

She grabbed her phone that she had left on the edge of the couch yesterday. 

Levi was calling. 

She quickly answered it. 

“If you didn’t pick up, I was coming to see if you were murdered.” 

“Not murdered. Just hung over.” 

“Yeah, I could tell. Funny how Eren tried to cover for you. Like we didn’t know.” 

“Is that what you called for?” 

“Yes…and no. What’s got you so drunk you’re wandering around town without shoes?” 

“Can we not talk about this right now?” 

Her head was starting to pound harder. 

“This is punishment.” 

“Why?”

“Because you were dumb and now you must pay the price.”

“Which is?” 

“Talking to me on the phone while I pretend to look for a book.”

 “Who’s harassing you now?” 

“That stupid Floch kid keeps saying we have a book in stock after I told him the website is wrong.”

“I thought Hange fixed all the inventory problems.”

“They did. I just don’t like this kid.” 

“Levi!” 

“What? He gets on my nerves.” 

“You can’t just not sell something to someone because you don’t like them personally!” 

“Sure, I can. I’m doing it right now.” 

“There is something seriously wrong with you.” 

“He does not need a first edition signed copy.” 

“Of what?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. Whenever he walks in, I completely tune out whatever he’s saying.” 

Mikasa shook her head. “You can’t run a business that way.” 

“Too late.” 

“You know every year you get closer to being the grumpy old man who yells at people to stay off of his lawn.” 

“I already do that.” 

“Since when?!”

“Since those bratty kids trampled Hange’s roses and knocked all of the cherry blossoms off. “ 

“Who did that?”

“I don’t know. Some high schoolers.” 

“So how long are you going to keep me on this phone?”

“Until he gets annoyed and leaves or Petra comes and finds me.” 

“You’re horrible.” 

“Are you really okay with Porco having a kid?” 

Mikasa sighed. She should have known that was the real reason Levi was calling her. 

“Yes. I am. Levi, you already know. He wasn’t the one for me.” 

“Oh. I was aware the moment I met him. I was just waiting for you to figure that out.”

“Thanks for that.” 

“Hey. You’ve got to make your own mistakes. I can’t live your life for you.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

“We all have to go through it. I’ve made mistakes. Kenny has. You have to too. Otherwise, you won’t be living your life. You’ll just be existing.” 

“That’s not sounding too bad right now.” 

“It’ll get easier. Shit, here comes Petra. I’ll call you later.” 

The line went dead.

Mikasa laughed. 

————-

Eren cleaned out the rest of the master bedroom. 

All important things besides the bed had already been taken out. There were two lamps that each sat on two bedside tables. Eren figured he could leave them with the house. There had been some make up left behind that promptly went into the trash. He wasn’t sure why Dina kept her make-up in the bedside table but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it. 

In the other that had clearly belonged to Grisha, Eren found a bunch of coins, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a pair of spare glasses, pens, and paper clips. He held the glasses in his hand for a moment. 

He considered breaking them. 

Just out of frustration and anger. 

How dare Grisha live this double life.

How dare he keep an older brother from him.

Grisha just got to pretend that everything was okay and that he didn’t have this whole secret life that Eren knew nothing about. 

It wasn’t okay.

It would never be okay.

But Eren couldn’t bring himself to break him. 

He found himself sinking down to his knees, choking back the tears.

This was all he had left. 

Glasses. 

This cabin.

That was it. 

Carla had removed most of Grisha’s things after the funeral. He didn’t know what had happened to them. He didn’t ask and she didn’t tell. 

Eren got back to his feet. 

He threw out the cigarettes and lighter along with the pens and paper clips. He started a donation pile where he put the glasses. 

The tables and lamps would go with the house when he sold it. 

Eren couldn’t go through the dressers today. That was too much for him. 

Besides, he needed to attempt to write. 

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He could see Mikasa in the other house, sitting at her own kitchen table that faced his house. 

She looked up from her computer as he sat. 

Mikasa gave him a wave which he returned. Then she stood up and disappeared into the other part of her house.

Eren stared at his computer as it started up. He happened to look up as Mikasa was walking back carrying a notepad. 

THANK YOU FOR LAST NIGHT was written on it. 

Eren smiled before nodding. 

She turned the page. WE SHOULD KEEP THE BET. 

Eren considered it before holding up a finger. He dashed over to his backpack and pulled out a notebook. 

WHAT BET? 

YOU WRITE A DARK NOVEL, I WRITE A ROMANCE.

WHAT DOES THE WINNER GET? 

Mikasa considered it for a moment. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

Eren considered writing to you for a good moment. 

YOUR PRAISE. 

The next page that Mikasa held up was clearly a phone number. CALL ME. 

Eren laughed as he took his phone out of his pocket. He dialed her number. 

“I already gave you that. Remember?” 

“Vaguely.” 

“No, but seriously. We should do this. I think it might get us out of this slump. We each write a different novel, send it to our editors and then see who gets published.” 

“I have a feeling that our editors would not like that.” 

“Why? Because they’re rivals? Look, Jean has been all over me to post more on social media. So whoever wins has to promote the other’s book.” 

Eren thought about it. 

It couldn’t be that hard. 

What did he have to lose? 

“Well, I know nothing about writing that emo shit.” 

“Like I know about romance but it can’t be that hard, right?” 

Eren snorted. “That’s what you think now.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll teach you to tap into your other feelings.” 

“And I’ll teach you about romance then.” 

“How are you going to do that?” 

Eren paused. How was he going to do that? Take her out on dates? Would she even like that? 

“We do research,” Eren finally said. “I’ll take you out on cheesey dates and you can….take me wherever you go.” 

“Just for research, right?” 

Eren swallowed, “right.” 

“Okay. Let’s start next week.”

“Okay. I should get back to cleaning up.” 

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” 

Eren ended the call. He walked out of the kitchen and leaned up against the wall in the hallway. 

He was so screwed. How was he supposed to go out on a date with Mikasa fucking Ackerman and not fall any more in love with her? 

—----------------

There’s a comfort to misery that you won’t understand unless you experience it. There’s something about the freedom to feel horrible and just look back into all of those horrible things. 

She was tired.

She was so very tired.

She had been fighting all of her life and for what? 

She was not closer to freedom today than he was yesterday. 

She wasn’t close to anything. 

She was just here with trauma.

Loads and loads of trauma that no matter how much therapy she went to, how much alcohol she drank, it was still there. 

She often wished that she wouldn’t wake up the next day. 

Maybe there was only freedom in death. 

Maybe that moment where you’re right on the edge of life and death…..

No. 

Death wasn’t the sweet release she begged for. 

It was permanent.

Stationary. 

Forever.

There was no freedom in that. 

Freedom lied only in choice. 

This was the first step towards her freedom. 

She looked back at his home where her family had been. 

No more.

No more would he be trapped there. 

She would be free. 

She took a step forward then a step back. She turned around, leaving the house forever. 

She was finally free.

——-

It was the most depressing ending Eren had ever read. 

Why had read that whole story only for the main character to walk away from everything she fought for? 

Eren ran a hand through his hair. 

He looked over at the clock in the living room. He still hadn’t bought sheets for the guest bedroom. It was 3:00 am. 

He’d been up writing for some long that he lost track of time. 

He hadn’t expected to like Mikasa’s book. 

He didn’t think the ending would weigh so heavy on him. 

After hearing Mikasa talk about his books, he had to read hers. 

Was it too late to text Mikasa?

She was probably asleep. 

He shouldn’t wake her. 

Yet he found himself very much wanting to talk to her about it. 

It could wait, he reminded himself.

He stood up and stretched before going out back.

On the patio next door, in the light of the candle, he could see Mikasa. She was just sitting there, staring out into the woods.

It was funny how he had thought of her now here she was. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Eren asked.

It must have startled her as she jumped. 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eren apologized. 

“It’s fine. I’m just not used to anyone being out here besides me.” 

“I can go back inside.” 

“No, really. You’re fine. I mean you’re not bothering me. And no, I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Any particular reason?”

 “Besides the fact that my ex husband is having a kid with the woman he cheated on me with and I’m saying I’m okay with it to all of my friends?”

“He cheated on you?” 

“Yeah. He did.”

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” 

“Nothing…I just….I didn’t love him. He knew that going into it.” 

“Then why did you marry him?” 

“Because I thought I would love him. I thought maybe you know…I like this guy more than anyone else I’ve ever met. Maybe eventually it’ll turn into love. But it never did. Outside of sex, we didn’t really do many couplely things. We never held hands or went on real dates. We were just kind of existing. I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear this.” Mikasa stood up to go inside. 

But Eren didn’t want her to leave. No, he wanted to hear her out. 

“Carly checked all the boxes on what a wife should be. She was beautiful. We met at the same age my parents did. There was some other stuff but it all kind of faded away for me. I…I don’t think I never loved her. I loved the idea of her. I probably would have married her if my dad hadn’t died. But things were bad, things are bad. She couldn’t handle it. I don’t blame her.” 

Mikasa towards him until she got to the railing of the deck. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and her lighter. She reached across the gap between the two houses. Eren took a cigarette out before producing his own lighter. Mikasa took her own cigarette, lighting it before shoving both the pack and lighter into her pocket. 

As Eren took a drag, he couldn’t help but look at her. 

She had seemed so sure of herself in college. 

She had been a different person. 

Then again, he had been too. 

So they stood there, in a comfortable silence smoking and watching the woods behind their cabins. 

[theliterateape]

[From the Archives] Changing Up the Routine: Acknowledging the Inevitable Tsunami

By Don Hall

It doesn’t happen often but once in a while I catch something I wrote back in the day that actually resonates with my current circumstance. Rreading it made me feel better, maybe it will for you as well.

Sitting in a Starbucks in River Forest, Illinois and I look around for a moment at the various apes in the room. It is a multicultural spread this afternoon: a few black people, a few brown people, an unsurprising majority of pink folks are in attendance.

There are 22 patrons sitting. Seventeen laptops or iPads are open and being furiously fueled by the Google Starbucks WiFi. It seems that the majority are doing work as I type this. I wonder first what the kind of work being done looks like. Emails, for certain. Spreadsheets? Sure. I wonder second, to what end?

We Homo sapiens are hardwired to seek out security. We like stability and comfort and abundance. The solidity of regular employment, the money in the bank, the health insurance we may never need but feel is completely necessary, a home with heat and internet, a sense of permanence and belonging. We’re willing all too often to give up the autonomy of independence to get this feeling. 

The baristas serving us all coffee and pre-packaged muffins could be out creating things, singing, fucking, staring out into the gray December sky and wondering the same thoughts as philosophers and poets. Instead, they rely on the cemented concepts of a schedule in which they can fit within and dollars that will come to them for the sacrifice of time and dignity. Dollars which they will exchange for the relief of an apartment to shelter their scripts, their paintings, their journals, their instruments of artistic voice from the chaos of nature. That, and the dull, anemic thrill of streaming television to lull them into a dead-ish stupor until they have to rouse themselves, put on pants and serve up some more java to the hordes of laptop bearers.

We fight to become bridled and led through our days with a routine. That routine makes us feel like we’re accomplishing something or perhaps just fills the time so we can ignore the feeling that none of this is actually good enough.

It takes 33 pounds of pressure and five minutes to strangle the life out of a grown human. It takes far less to strangle their aspirations of meaning and even less to simply boot-grind the breath out of their dreams for more than trading life for money for security.

Like you, I find myself sucked into the treadmill of the workforce mentality. Anxieties about finances, seeking for work that pays enough to buy another day of finger-hanging off the cliff of survival. I’ve been willing to trade my time for money too many times in my half century and will likely do so again. It’s just the way of the world.

It’s also the way of the world to wait until you build that balsa-wood home on the beaches of Miami, get nice and comfy, hell, get entitled to that comfort, and then blast into shards in one night. The world promises us nothing. Not justice, not equity, not safety. If there is a promissory note that we are handed at birth it is written on one side “Chaos” and on the other “Loss.”

And so we allow the routine. Until the routine becomes... routine. Then a restlessness, a wanderlust, a primal dissatisfaction sets in. We grow despondent, depressed. We spend too much of our time doing nothing like the kid to my right in the Starbucks apron playing some sort of game on his iPhone and the woman to my left texting someone so much that a phone call would be far more efficient.

Ordinarily I don’t notice this. Ordinarily, I’m stuck in my own routine of finding trades of my time for cash to survive in the capitalist model. Fortunately, this is not a time in my life when I’m moored to the day-to-day grind quite as aggressively. My routine has been completely disrupted because I’m jumping off a cliff with Las Vegas as a destination. Right now my job is to move. The work that is filling my day is rife with packing up belongings I’ve amassed over 30 years, the combined effluvia of a four-year marriage, moving that stuff to a storage facility where it will sit until the movers pick it up and drive 30 hours to the Mojave Desert this Spring. 

The new routine (based on immediate tasks and a disregard for a set schedule) has been bracketed with working out in the many unfamiliar gyms on the Chicago Athletic Club circuit at random times, sleeping in a new temporary crash pad, finding times for cat naps as well as writing, creating podcasts and planning to bring Literate Ape to the West.

It is this disruption of the tried and true that opens up the pores of the mind and allows me some perspective on the permanence of things (and the lack of it.) I find that when one gets into the weeds of routine, finding small (and, in this case for me, big) ways to disrupt it gives the brain a chance to refocus.

What becomes apparent to me in these moments is that, in many ways, our existence on the planet is rather pointless. The grind of survival in a society that devalues humanity in so many ways can suddenly feel like a futile exercise. At these moments, I get to choose: embrace the nihilism of a cynical resignation or grab hold of the reality that it is just this exercise that builds a life. As I recall my 50-odd years, the things that stick are the moments of joy and wonder. While relatively small in the Grand Scheme, it is these moments and the people in them that matter, not the futility of Chaos and Loss.

Chaos makes those windows into Security matter. Loss is the reason for thoroughly swimming in those times of Abundance. Acknowledgement that nothing is permanent, that it is folly to cling to stability on a planet hurtling through space, spinning natural disasters, fires, floods, diseases and a host of other elements that represent little else but our inevitable demise is a cleansing scorch on the soul. Optimism and idealism in the face of this acknowledgement is both foolish and heroic.

I prefer to be the heroic fool, the Don Quixote tilting at windmills and seeking a better day in the face of all indicators that tomorrow will just be more of the same.

[braineater444]

can i just say that my brain is rotting with thoughts of gross intruder sanzu and rindou who takes advantage of naive and virgin reader 😫 they'd record themselves violating u while laughing and probably upload the vid into some sketchy ass website too 😭😭 foaming at the mouth at the thought of them taking turns with you 😫🙏👍💅‼️😴😌🥺🤔😅😚🥺🥺🥺🥺

Tw/Cw: LOTS OF Blood, Noncon, Spit, Grossness, Virginity, Kinda Graphic, Minimal editing cuz im NOT an editor 😴

A/N: OKAY THIS TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE BECAUSE IVE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH IT FOR MONTHS DESPITE BEING VERY ENTICED AND ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA… It got far more off the rails than I initially expected but liiiikkkkee… it’s literally this acc so iddkk. Ive been wanting to write this foreverrrr…

Even Rindō is caught off guard by the scream that tears through your vocal chords when Sanzu sheaths himself inside of you. He looks at the other man in shock, but Sanzu smiles wickedly at him while you gasp for air under his hold.

“Rin, she’s bleeding.” Sanzu says before pulling out and thrusting back in again just to hear you scream. With the next one, something within you breaks and your arms give out under you — Rin only finds his pants more uncomfortable than before.

You fall face first onto your floor and Rindō only hums his disapproval. Your pretty face needs to be on camera; it’s what’ll get them views and make them some money. Though neither of them is hurting for a check… they’re doing this for their own twisted enjoyment. Plus, the beating he gave you would be meaningless if you weren’t going to show it off under the bright flash of his phone camera, right?.

In an instant, Sanzu’s hand is in your hair and dragging you back up as he uses your unprepared virgin cunt for himself. You groan in desperation and agony, but it only goes ignored by the two men who broke into your home. You feel your nose might be broken.

Rindō bends down to your level, phone in your face, and the bright light making you squint. His free hand comes to your jaw, wet with blood from being hit so many times. He stops to admire his work. Typically, a busted lip is small and inconsequential, but the one he’s given you is widely split and gushing blood down your chin. It’ll require stitches after this, he’s sure. Maybe he should’ve taken his ring off before hitting you, but you’re stunning like this. Even without a bulky ring, your nose would bleed in the same way it is now. The blood from your nostrils curve around the outline of your lips and meet at your chin. You look absolutely miserable as tears fall from your eyes, and Rindō can’t take his eyes off of you.

“It hurts. Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anybody.” You beg, pain running through your face. You can’t even bring yourself to look at the man you’re trying to reason with. Even with your head towards the camera, you can’t see it or him, you can only make out the outline of his hand wrapped tightly around his phone.The brightness of his phone flashlight hurts to even look at.

“It won’t matter if you tell,” Rindō says. “Everyone’s gonna know about you.” He smiles, but you can’t see it, anyway. Sanzu chuckles behind you.

“Please!” You cry. Your hand moves back to push at the pink-haired man’s hips and your body tries to move away from him, but all it takes is a powerful tug on your hair for you to knock it off. Instead, this time, your hand moves forward to push the other man’s camera out of your face. It works… briefly. You get a flash of his smile from behind the light and then you’re met with a stern slap to the face. It’s only right that another shriek tears through you with the pain of his actions. With that, the other man’s hand leaves your hair.

Rindō chuckles. He hasn’t seen misery like yours in a while. It’s beautiful.

His light’s back in your face like it never left, illuminating your tearful, bloody, and drool-filled nightmare. He sees his hands covered in your blood, spit, and tears and feels your body jolting forward with the work Sanzu’s putting in and feels something euphoric wash over him. You’ll be fucked up forever after this.

“Smile for me.” He coos, hand releasing your jaw, as if this was a wholesome moment and doing something for him would somehow make it more worth doing. He’s mocking you. “C’mon smile,” He says as he runs the same gross hand down the side of your face. You spit at him and barely miss. Rindō laughs at your defiance. “Sanzu…”

Before Rindō has to tell him what he wants, he’s already moving. In an instant, he’s fish hooking both sides of your mouth and spreading your busted lip wider. With every collision of your hips, it only hurts more.

“So pretty,” Rindō utters softly at the sight of your bloody teeth shining in the light. His mouth comes to yours without a thought running through his mind, as he licks the entire inside. The only taste he registers in full is the familiar irony taste of blood. This rings especially true when he opts to lick up the blood and drool mixture from your chin that leads right to the tear in your lip at which he flicks his tongue.

You pause in shock, unable to move in disgust and abject horror. He spits in your face, but unlike you, he doesn’t miss.

“You can let her go.” He says. Hands leave your mouth, but it all goes unregistered by you. By now, you’ve stopped crying, stopped screaming, and you’re on your hands and knees staring at the man in front of you, deaf to the sounds of skin slapping and the feeling of another man buried inside of you. The only thing you can feel is the pain in your face, the glob of spit sliding over your eye and shock. His smile is noticeably more unnerving than before as the silence between the two of you becomes overwhelming.

There’s nothing to say. There are no words. The only thing that brings you back to where you are and what’s happening is the man behind you slamming your entire body down onto the floor and resting his weight on top of you as he cums inside you. You can feel his breath on your neck and feel his hand clamoring for something, anything to hold. He lands on sliding his hand under you to harshly latch on to your chest. You whimper, but nothing else; you’re defeated.

You feel him move from on top of you and start to drag your body away. The pain between your legs is unbearable; you can’t stand up. You don’t make more than a couple of inches before you fall flat on your face. You can only watch as the men switch places above you, the pink haired one holding his own camera as he settles in front of you.

Your hand reaches for the space beside you, fingers straining at you, trying to grip the space and pull your body away. It doesn’t work. You’re left in the same spot.

“Where are you going?” Sanzu asks, camera pointed at your every move.

Rin watches you struggle silently from behind, wanting to see how far you can get before the countdown in his mind ends.

At five you’re back up on your elbows, dragging yourself less than an inch.

At four you move a little further and stronger than before.

Three only sees you pull yourself less than before and fall flat again.

Two is where the waterworks and begging start back up.

One is where he drags you back to them.

[just-open-the-fridge-yo]

What Is It?

lees + lers (switches) Midoriya, Bakugou, & Iida

Summary: Bakugou and Iida are convinced they know Midoriya pretty well, but when they discover that Midoriya has a secret he’s unwisely failed to share with them this entire time…being the good friends they are, they must uncover the truth.

Words: 6k

A/N: Here’s a fic I thought of a while ago, and I’m just now posting it 😁 There should be more fics with these three because they're so chaotic FUN together!

——-

“Bakugou, that doesn’t make sense. Part of this slide's information clearly belongs on the second slide.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does. It’s packed full of information, so we need to break it up a little. Keeping it on the first slide will overwhelm our classmates and discourage their attention.”

“Then the losers just won’t know how to deal with the situation if it comes. They’d better put in the effort to keep up.” Bakugou shrugged and kept typing. “And like I’m taking organizational orders from someone who keeps telling us to put the dishes in alphabetical order, whatever the hell that means.”

Iida glanced up from his laptop, looking a little less than pleased. “If you’d been listening before, you would’ve known that alphabetical order means dish size order. I wanted to make kitchen item terminology in the dorms more exciting. I mentioned that over ten times.”

“Whatever. That's the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Can’t believe Aizawa forced me into this lame-ass group with you nerds.”

“…If you're going to insist on being so rude, maybe Aizawa Sensei would be happy to remove you from the group,” Iida muttered.

“Tch. Of course you’d say that now, once I’ve already pulled most of this project’s load for you slackers.”

“Oh, you have not.”

Deku squinted harder at his laptop screen where he sat on his bed, trying to ignore Bakugou and Iida. They’d worked ahead of schedule, finished their project paper yesterday, and had been working on a very long slide presentation for nearly two hours. It was evening, they were getting irritable, and Deku felt a headache coming on. He peeked down at the two sitting across from each other on his All Might rug. “Uh…hey, guys, maybe we should—”

“ —to place the bullet points by - hey!” Iida gawked at their shared Google Slides presentation on his computer. “Will you - will you please stop changing my edits?”

“I’m the one who wrote the damn sentence. I worded it that way for a reason,” Bakugou growled. “Change it one more time and you’re dead.”

“But, the wording is awkward…” Iida sighed, rubbing his temples and lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to argue, Bakugou, I just want to make sure we get a good grade. And spending all this time learning about the potential constipation woes of eating quirk-enhancing cabbage for our project is draining enough as it is. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner we‘ll be done,” he said firmly.

Bakugou couldn’t have looked more bored. “Yeeep. I’ll cooperate soon as you stop giving shitty suggestions that keep screwing up the presentation’s flow.”

“My suggestions enhance the flow! You agree, right, Midoriya?”

“Oh yeah! They do… But…I also think the slide info placement for the first two slides could go on the first or second slide, either way…just as long as the stuff on the third slide stays in the same spot, I guess,” Deku said with a tired smile. “But we’ve been working really hard so far and still have a few days before presenting. I say we take a break for now, maybe regroup after dinner - yeah, sounds like a good idea to me, hah-hah…” He started slowly closing his laptop.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Translation: Iida, I don’t wanna hurt your feelings. But all your suggestions suck, you’re pissing me off, Kacchan’s right again, and you're, for the seventy-third time, wrong.”

“Nonsense! Midoriya is always honest with me! If he were thinking that, he’d just tell me!”

“How would you know that, huh? You carry around a lie detector?”

“A lie detector?!”

“You heard me! The nerd has a field day beating around the bush, so of course he’s not just gonna—”

“O-Okay, guys, please stop fighting—”

“Shut up, Deku!”

“Don’t tell him to be quiet! And no, I don’t have a lie detector, but now you’re questioning Midoriya’s integrity?” Iida crossed his arms, exasperated. “You clearly don’t know him as well as I thought you did.”

“Please. I grew up with the idiot. Not that I’d call it a great experience.” Bakugou’s glower intensified. “And what? You think you know him any better?”

“Well, I certainly don’t know everything, but perhaps I know the more recent version of him better than you, considering you often seem to avoid him like the plague.”

“Psh. Sure.” Bakugou kept his stare on his screen as he googled an image for a slide. “Bet you don’t even know the basics, like his birthday.”

“I don't? I would say it’s July 15th, but maybe I’m wrong.”

The blond slowed his browsing, then scoffed. “Like I'm impressed. Everyone knows that. I was just testing you. If you’d missed that one, it woulda been beyond pathetic. But no one knows his favorite col-”

“Pardon my interruption, but I believe it’s purple.”

Bakugou paused but recovered with a snarl at the little smirk that crept onto Iida’s face.

“That’s…true,” Deku mumbled, flattered. “Wow, Iida. I didn’t think you’d actually remember that.”

Iida looked shocked. “You really think I'd be that forgetful? You wound me, Midoriya.”

“Well, none of you extras, not even you, knows his favorite food.”

“Food? Isn’t it katsudon-”

“What I meant was-” Bakugou said through clenched teeth. “-none of you know his favorite song - from when he was a kid.”

“Um...” Iida put the tip of a pencil to his chin. “Is it ‘Pull Me to the Sun’ by Tatsuo Mi-”

“SHUT UP, FOUR EYES! JUST - JUST SHUT YOUR DAMN SMUG MOUTH, YA GOT THAT?!” Bakugou exploded. “HOW’D YOU EVEN KNOW THAT?!”

“Oh. Well, that…really was just a lucky guess,” Iida admitted a bit sheepishly. “Midoriya told me it’s currently his favorite song. I had no idea it was his favorite childhood song as well.”

Bakugou whirled on Deku. “AND WHY THE HELL DO YOU STILL LIKE THAT CRINGEY SONG ANYWAY, DEKU?! IT’S TRASH!”

“Kacchan, calm down, okay? I-I don’t know, it’s just a great song.” Deku hesitated. “But wait…you actually remembered it, too…?”

“‘Course I did. And only cuz you’d never shut up about it. Sang it so much, I’m scarred for life.”

Deku nodded as Bakugou resumed his aggressive typing with a scowl stuck on his face.

“Like I care. Everyone knows everything about Deku anyway, so you’re not special, four eyes. He’s an open book. A stupid rock could know everything about him.”

Deku was a little offended by that. “Hey…that’s not completely true, Kacchan. You don’t know everything about me,” he said quietly.

“Oh, really,” Bakugou said sarcastically. “Like what?”

Deku’s gaze slid to his ceiling. Well, now that he asked. “Uhh...something like…oh! When it comes to ice cream flavors—”

“What, your favorite?” Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “Yup. Know that, too.”

“…You do?”

“Vanilla.”

“Nuh-uh...” Deku shook his head with a little chuckle. “Actually…it’s not.”

“The hell do you mean it’s not? Yeah, it is. You told me one time.”

“Huh? I don’t remember that. I’ve actually never liked vanilla ice cream. Maybe that was someone else?”

Iida glanced up from his laptop again when Bakugou remained silent. “So, is it…chocolate, then? Everyone likes chocolate ice cream to some degree,” he said.

“Chocolate’s okay, but nope! I could take it or leave it.”

There was more silence.

And more.

“Quit playing games, Deku. What is it?”

Deku blinked. “Wait. You...seriously wanna know?”

“Hell no, but since you brought it up, might as well say it!” Bakugou sneered.

The green-haired hero noticed Iida was also watching him so attentively, it was a little comical, and he found their curiosity amusing as he tried to look serious. “Wellll, if I told you two everything about me, I wouldn’t be that interesting anymore, right? Guess I’m not as much of an open book as you thought, Kacchan.”

“Dammit, you nerd, stop acting so high and mighty! What, you think you’re better than me just cuz I don’t know your fuckin’ favorite ice cream flavor? Hah?!”

“Wait! I-I never said that—”

“Nnnnrrr! I don’t care what you said, just say it!”

Deku pressed his lips together, unable to help the faint surge of annoyance he felt at his rival’s tone. “Okay, Kacchan, well, you know, maybe some things I might just wanna keep a see-wahaaiiiEEE-!”

Bakugou shot up and launched at his rival with such force, they toppled from his bed to the floor, the momentum rolling them to the other side of the room. “Well, it’s too bad this isn’t a secret, huh?! Too bad I know—” His fingers sank into his sides and tummy. “— how ridiculously ticklish you are. And it’s all I need to know for you to spill everything!”

“Whahat - Kahahaha!” Midoriya burst out laughing with flailing limbs. “Ahahahaha! Kacchahahan!”

“Spit it out, or suffer the consequences.”

Iida recovered from the shock of the crash with wide eyes. “Bakugou, no! I-If he really doesn’t want to tell us the flavor, then-” he trailed off as he registered the scene and realized. He’s not really… He’s just…

“I’ll nehehever tell yohohohou!”

“You must wanna die then.”

Oh, Iida thought. Witnessing the two being playful together was new to him, so he felt slightly hesitant about what to do. But he found that Deku’s melodic laughter that lit up the room was actually starting to brighten his own darkened mood a little, and a fond smile slowly grew on his face as he stood and approached.

“Y’know, Bakugou…if you’re trying to take on the role of a villainous interrogator, your technique is…well, honestly, terrible.”

“What?” Bakugou continued his tickling and glared up at Iida. “Not like you could do it any better.”

“Really? Well, I know that for someone with such a strong resolve like Midoriya, you’ll need a more…effective and drastic strategy,” Iida said solemnly while pushing up his glasses.

“…Oh yeah?” Now Bakugou slowed his attack, a sinister smirk appearing. “Drastic strategy, huh?”

Iida nodded. “That is if the hero is up for such a daunting challenge.”

“Dohoho your wohorst!” Deku declared, continuing to roll around.

Iida smirked and knelt down above Deku’s head, pulled out his phone to set a timer, and cleared his throat. “All right, then. Five minutes!” he announced in a villainous, melodramatic tone. “Five before backup arriv—”

“You’re joking.” And just like that, Bakugou’s amusement was gone. “We’re doing twenty at least.”

“T-Twenty?” Iida broke character. “Absolutely not! That’s far too long.”

“It’s not. Five minutes is a joke. Not enough time.”

“But, twenty is unnecessary.” Iida paused. Thought for a second. “Very well, we'll settle this with a compromise.”

“Tch.”

“Six minutes.”

“You even know what a compromise is, moron?!”

“Six is… Yeah, six is…that’s cool with me,” Deku tried to mumble nonchalantly while hoping it wasn’t obvious he was filled with childlike excitement.

Iida nodded at Deku with a small smile. “Okay. If you’re alright with it. Besides, with my strategy, this won’t take long.”

“Hmph. It’d better not.” Bakugou moved to straddle Deku’s waist.

Iida slipped into character again. “So! Six minutes before backup arrives to rescue you, hero! But until then, I’m afraid you’re at the mercy of my accomplice, Bakugou and I as we are forced to take on the personification of evil since—”

“We’re not villains, dammit.”

“Right! As we’re forced to take on the personification of…of extremely nosy friends since you—”

“I’m not his friend.”

“—are so foolishly willing to endure. So, I have a question for you. Do you like spiders?”

Deku looked up at Iida. “Uh, yea- I-I mean…no…?”

“Oh, really? It's strange that you don't, because the infamous tickle spider says he’s been dying to pay you a visit,” Iida said as he took Deku’s wrists in one hand, pulled them over his head, and used the other to start spidering from his wrists slowly down his arm. “He really likes you! Or more like, it seems he likes your giggles more than anything else!”

“Hhhmmph-!” Deku clamped his mouth shut as Iida’s crawling spider switched randomly from one arm to the other every couple seconds in its descent, feeling like ghost tickles. Light, gentle, and ticklishly maddening. His cheeks grew warmer with the effort to stay silent, but less than seven seconds passed before unstoppable giggles began bubbling out. “Pfffaheehehaha! W-Wahahait! Okahaheheeha - okahahay, thahat reheheheally tihihickles, Iihiidahaha!”

Iida raised his eyebrows. “It does? It’d be wise of you to tell us the flavor then, hero!”

“Nahahahe - nehehever!”

“Hm. You do know where the spider's going, don’t you?” Iida asked quietly.

The spider kept up its attack down his arms, tickling more the closer it got to his underarms, and Deku giggled more frantically with widening eyes. “Nohoho, plehehease, nohohot thehere!”

“THEN SPILL IT, HERO!” Iida bellowed so dramatically, it lowkey made Bakugou jump a little. “Here, I’ll even help you out a bit. Is it banana ice cream?”

“N-Nohoho!”

“Chocolate chip?”

The spider was passing the crook of his elbow. “Nahahaho!”

“Green tea? Or it must be cookie dough, then.”

“Iidahaha!” The spider was mere inches from one of his armpits now, and Deku squeezed his eyes shut. “Nahahaha! Nohohone o-of thohohossse!”

“Wrong answer!”

“EEAHHahahaha!” Deku squealed and jerked when the spider sprang to his neck instead, creating ticklish shockwaves that caused hysterical giggles while he scrunched his shoulders. “AHAhahaha! IIHIHIdahaha - cohohome ohohon - nahahat the neheheck - i-it tickles so bahad!” he pleaded. “Ehehehe! P-PLEEhehehease!”

“Oh? Didn’t think it would tickle this much?” Iida questioned. “Looks like you underestimated your sensitivity! Should’ve considered that before daring to hide such invaluable info from us! Now, I’ll give you another chance. Is it chicken-flavored?”

“Hahahahuh?!” Deku squeaked, grinning wider through his bubbly giggles. “Thahat’s grohohohohoss!”

Iida gasped. “You fiend of a hero! That just so happens to be my favorite ice cream flavor, yet you judge it so harshly? Have you even tried it?”

“Whahahaha? Why wohould-? N-Nohoho wahahahahay!”

“How dare you!” Iida threw both hands down over Deku’s head to lightly scribble and dig into his tummy, but he was so ticklish that even that triggered a wild shrieky giggle fit as he grabbed onto Iida’s arms with his legs flying all over the place.

“HAHAHehehe! IihihiYAHAHahahaha!”

“HEY, FOUR EYES! Quit messing around and take this seriously!!” Bakugou shouted with a twitching eye as Iida snapped his head up to look at him, almost as if he forgot the blond was even there, watching. “You call any of your crap an effective, drastic strategy?!?! The nerd’s not supposed to be having fun, he’s supposed to be crying!”

“Oh. I’m just finding it a bit difficult because…well, I’m tickling him!” Iida chuckled, no longer withholding his playful smile as he tickled around Deku’s neck again. “Besides, my strategy is working. It’s called slowly breaking the hero down. If you were to tire him out too quickly in true interrogation, he’d lose consciousness and be of no use to us. He’ll tell soon enough.”

Bakugou’s frown deepened. “Yeah, right. That’s the most cliché and ineffective strategy I’ve ever seen in my life, if you can even call it that. Thanks for wasting my time. Just don’t get in my — stop kneeing me in the back, Deku!!” Bakugou got off Deku’s waist to sit on his shins, and scratch into both his feet. “This is what you get for trying to give me back problems.”

“KACCHAHahahahan! I trihihied not to! I’m sohohorry!” The mix of harder and softer tickles from them both at once was surprisingly impactful, and Deku became unaware of how much or how little time was passing. Still, he held on.

“Ready to talk, hero?” Iida asked eventually over Deku’s laughter, and the boy just shook his head.

“Sadly, I’ve got several more questions for you, then. Does it tickle more when I do this, this, this, or this, oh, or this?” Iida took his wrists again while the fingers of his other hand poked and wiggled into random spots, under his arms, along his ribs and sides, each poke’s location unpredictable. “What tickles more, hmm? What tickles more?”

“It ahahall tihihickles! Iihihi - staHAHA - stahahahap ahahasking the sahahahame quehehehestion!” Deku cried as Iida started poking along his collarbone, and Bakugou more harshly squeezed his knees and thighs, making him laugh harder as his face grew rosier. “Iihihida - Kahahacchan, plehehehease - kahahahaha-! NooohoHOHO!”

“No? Why are you laughing so much? Poor hero! We’re barely doing anything!”

“Hah. Right. Deku’s too ticklish for his own good.”

Iida smiled at Bakugou. “Yes, yes, devastatingly ticklish! You’re no match for us. I admire your strong will, hero, but I’m afraid that barely two minutes have passed, and you still have plenty more minutes left… Oh, right, unless you tell the truth, of course! Muahahaha!” Iida erupted with melodramatically maniacal laughter, emphasizing the sound with each poke and tickle he gave to Deku who only laughed more hysterically as a result. “Muahahaha - hah-hah!”

“Iiiihiidahahahaha!”

“Kn-Knock it off, you-!” Deku quieted down a little since Bakugou stopped tickling; a hand was sealed over the blond’s mouth as he trembled. Finally, after several moments, he removed his hand with a growl. “That’s it, I’ve just about had it! You’re acting like a complete dumbass, and it’s pissing me off!!”

Iida stopped his tickling as well with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?”

Bakugou shot his accomplice the most dangerous death glare. “Don’t you dare play dumb. Don’t expect me to take you seriously. You can’t expect Deku to take us seriously when you frickin’- you—”

“Oh, you mean when I laugh like - muahahahaha - haa?” Iida grinned when Bakugou violently slapped both hands over his mouth this time and muffled giggles slipped from behind them as he shook. “Bakugou, how mean! And here I thought I was menacing!”

It wasn’t long before Midoriya’s laughter joined Bakugou’s, and instantly Bakugou tried his best to look murderous again. “And what’re you laughing about, Deku?”

“Nohohothing! It’s...just that I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a while.” Deku smiled warmly. “I just forgot how contagious it is.”

Light red tinged Bakugou’s cheeks and ears.

Silence.

“SHUT UP! So, you’re making fun of me now?!”

“I doubt it. It’s quite a sound,” Iida said.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?! You got a death wish?”

“What? No! I’m just saying it’s a wonderful sound! All laughter is, unless it’s truly maniacal, of course,” Iida insisted while gesturing with an arm.

If looks could kill... “Don’t lie to me! And stop looking at me like that, Deku! You’re still making fun of me in your mind - I can tell by the gleam in your eye!”

“H-Huh? A glea - no, I promise I don’t have a GLEEHAHHEHE!” Deku shrieked as Bakugou clawed ruthlessly into his tummy.

“Yep, definitely making fun of me. Pathetic. Don’t even have the decency to stop laughing,” Bakugou said, smirking.

“Hey - hold on, wait, wait, Bakugou- y-you- wait- you’re ruining my strategy!” Iida protested.

“I told you your strategy sucks, and we’ve only got—” Bakugou’s eyes could‘ve popped out of their sockets when he saw the phone showed they had a little over two minutes left. “Four eyes, look how much time you wasted!”

“Me? You’re the one that stopped tickling him first! And my strategy was working fi—”

“KahahaNaH- WAIIHAHAHAHAHA!” Deku screeched as Bakugou wildly tickled his ribs then dug under his arms that Iida forgot he was still holding up.

“Forget that. This strategy makes him cry with laughter if you do it right. That’s all the strategy we need. Tell us the flavor, Deku, or you won’t survive these last two minutes!”

Less than two minutes, Deku thought through the tickly haze. It was doable. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of himself despite—

“AhahaHAHAHA! WAHAHAIT, KACCHAHAHAN! Nohot -THEHERE!”

“Yes, here. You knew it was only a matter of time. Pff…calling myself being nice before…shoulda done this a long time ago.” Bakugou’s thumbs kneaded warningly into his hip bones, and even that tickled so much that already Deku fell into stronger hysterics.

“NOHOHOHO, PLEHEASE, KAHACCHAHAN!”

“Talk.”

“I CAHAHAHAN’T!”

Bakugou sped up his fingers. “Of course you can’t, you will!”

Deku bumped his shaking head against the floor. “I - EHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Bakugou, I’m telling you that isn’t going to work! Even with the remaining time, we’ve got to be a bit more patient, or else we won’t—”

“OKAHAHAHAHAY! KAHAHA - STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! S-STRAHAHAWBERRY!”

The green-haired teen panted as Bakugou ceased the interrogation. Fifty-two seconds to spare. He looked at Iida triumphantly. “Sorry, what was that?”

The class rep was speechless. “Ah. Strawberry,” he finally murmured, astonished. He looked away with a sigh. “Well…I suppose your strategy—”

“St…strawberry...ihihi…is actually myyhehee…least favorite flavor.”

Iida’s expression contorted into one of horror when he looked up from Deku’s bright, dopey grin to meet Bakugou’s eyes and…disturbingly calm face.

“M-Midoriya! Why on earth would you dare to—”

“AHHHAAHAAAH! NAHAHAHAHEHEE! STAAHAHAHAP KAAACCHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“You like that?” Bakugou drilled and squeezed his hips like no tomorrow. “This’ll teach you to make a fool of your interrogators, nerd. Should’ve known, his stupid endurance is way too damn high to just give in so fast—”

Iida let go of his friend’s wrists, and Deku held onto Bakugou’s and tossed his head back with shrill laughter. “Midoriya, you’ve got to think rationally! A-A villain would likely end you immediately for such poorly timed wit!”

“Poorly timed?! That was a thousand percent intentional - now he’s gonna pay for it! You think it’s a game? You think it’s funny, hah? You think you can make a game of your interrogators?! Answer me, Deku!”

“KAHACCHAHAN - BAHA IT IHIHIS A GAHAHAEEE! AHAHAHA- PPFF -! A GAHAHAHAHAHAHE!”

“None of this is a game! None of it!” There was a little under thirty seconds left and Bakugou roared to the high heavens. “I’m through being nice, dammit! Tell us, Deku! Tell us!!”

“NAAHAHAHANAHAHA WAHAHEHEHEEHEHEEY Y-YAHAHAHEHEHEEE!”

“Bakugou, careful! It isn’t our job to kill the hero!”

“He’s still breathing, isn’t he?!”

“Um…” Iida watched cautiously as Deku’s laughter went silent momentarily before more pierced their ears. “Yes, but…”

“Chill, rep. You’re too nice to him sometimes. I’ve done this a bajillion times, so back off, all right? Trust me. He’s not gonna die,” Bakugou said with an eye roll before tickling harder. “NOW DIE, YOU STUPID EXTRA! DIIEE!”

“I-IIHIDA, IHIHI’M OKAHAHAYHEHEE!” Deku assured, sounding like he was on some bumpy tickle roller coaster. The electric tickly feelings shooting through him were exhilarating but as the long seconds ticked on, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take much more as tears of mirth started welling in his eyes. “OKAHA- OKAHAY, IHIT’S AHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIT’S-!”

“SHUT UP AND TELL ME THE FLAVOR, DEKU!”

“I-IHIHIHIHIT’S-”

“I WON’T LOSE TO YOU, YOU HEAR ME?! I WON’T LOSE TO YOU, YOU PATHETIC LOSER!”

“DAHAHAHAHAHEHE! SHEEHEHEHEHEHEEZZ!”

“Cheese…?”

“AAAHHRRGHH, DAMMIT!!” Bakugou screeched like an animal. “THAT’S IT!!” Nearly in a blind rage, he caught sight of the time on the phone that was under less than five seconds and grabbed it.

“Bakugou?!!”

“You stupid, stubborn little-!” He pushed the time back and watched the seconds shoot up until the phone was out of his reach in Iida’s hand, and he whipped his head up, frothing at the mouth. “The hell?! Give it here, four eyes!”

“Sorry, but I won’t allow it! Now you’re just cheating!”

“Cheating my ass! Your shitty interrogation technique wasted time, plus, there’s no way anyone would be there to save him in six minutes! Give it!”

“No!” Iida said sternly. “And besides, I think he was about to—”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? Wait - you’ve been on his side all along, haven’t you?!”

“On his side-?”

“That explains everything! You - hoho - hnnggrrr!”

“Baku - what do you think you’re - dah!” Iida was too slow for the fired up boy who jumped over Deku to tackle him, grabbing for the phone as they rolled around, grunting, and Iida pushed Bakugou’s chest with his free hand. “Cut it out!”

“Hand it over!”

“We’re supposed to be a team! How dare you attack your own teammate!”

“I’m not attacking a teammate, I’m attacking a traitor!” Bakugou thundered. “Gimme the phone or die!”

“I’m not a traitor! And it’s my phone - ow- watch it-! S-Stop being so childish - listen!” Iida yelled, trying to be heard over Bakugou's painfully loud snarling and quickly losing patience as he further lifted the phone and Bakugou swung after it. “AS ASPIRING PRO HEROES, WE MUST STRIVE TO HANDLE INEVITABLE DISAPPOINTMENTS IN A FAR MORE MATURE MANNER - BEING SLOW TO LOSE PATIENCE WHILE REMAINING CALM, COOL, AND COLLECTED WITH QUIET VOICES AND AN OPTIMISTIC ATTITUDE! AT LEAST ACCEPT THAT WE LOST WITH SOME LEVEL OF HONOR!”

“LIKE HELL I’M JUST GONNA LET—HNnhhnmnrrrgh!” Bakugou was enveloped in a side hug that knocked him far to the side and he landed on his stomach with a knee in his back. “Agh - hey! Get offa me! Deheku-!” He clamped his mouth shut when pressure squeezed up and down the backs of his ribs, and he struggled fiercely, but the awkward way he was pinned made it hard. “You’re not suppohohosed to get f-freehee! Gehehet the hehell ohohoff, y-you idiot!”

“Buhut, you really were just acting like a villain, Kacchan, and you let your guard dohohohown! I had to!” Deku was still a little red-faced and loopy from the tickles. “And now I have to take you down! Surrender!”

“Pfft - surrender? In your dreams!”

“Okay!”

“Hold it - I swear - don’t you dahaHAHAHARE YOU- STAahaHACK DEHEHEHEHEHEHEKUU!” Bakugou roared with laughter when his rival targeted the top of his left set of ribs. When he reached up to try blindly shoving the hand away from behind, it just allowed Deku to take his arm and lift it further with more access to the spot, and his laughter doubled as he slammed his free fist on the floor. “GAHAHA! YOHOHOU ARE SOHOHOHOHO DEHEHEAD!”

“Yeah? I still feel alive right now!” Deku teased and wiggled harder as Bakugou screeched curses and death threats between peals of wild laughter. But the freckled boy faltered when he noticed Iida sitting up, slowly readjusting his glasses and straightening his wrinkled shirt. Then Deku smirked. “Don't think about it. Stay back, Ii- I mean interrogator!”

“Normally I’d be distressed that my accomplice has been taken down, but my allegiance belongs to those who help me out.” Iida was also smirking. “It seems a certain someone’s brought this upon himself, so, it looks like you do have the right to admit defeat, traitor!”

“I’M NAHAHahaha!” Bakugou giggled when Deku switched to skittering his nails along a sensitive spot at the back of his neck. “I’m nohohot the trahaitor, you are! It wahas in your plahan a-all alohohohong to have Deku attahahack me, wahahasn’t it!”

Iida stared wide eyed at the horrid accusation before a playful smirk returned. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but maybe I do consider myself a crafty mastermind! Muahahahaha!”

“Noho, shuhuuhut - I w-wihIHILL dehehestroy yohohou!” Bakugou warned, trying desperately to hold in his building laughter because of Iida. “Dohohohon’t you fuhuckin’ stahahahahart!”

Iida’s smile grew. “Hm? Don't start what? Don't start the muahahaha-”

“SeheheHEE YOU IN THE AFTERLIFE, YOU BASTARD!”

Iida couldn’t contain his burst of laughter to save his life as he shot up just as Bakugou bucked Deku off his back and went after him.

“C’mon, Kacchan, nooo! Iida, better stop laughing - quick!” Deku chuckled, just lying there cheesing like an idiot.

“I-I’m trying- ahall right - forgive me, Bakugou - I cohouldn’t help it!”

“You can help a lot of things! You think you're just so funny, huh?”

“I wouldn't consider myself funny, b-but apparently you think I am!”

“No, an annoying smartass is what you are! And just real mature.” Bakugou couldn’t force away his grin, but it was murderous. “Oho, now you're really gonna get it!”

It was amazing they could move around so freely since the room was small, yet Bakugou kept going after Iida who moved like lightning and expertly dodged things as always. Iida dove over Deku’s bed, almost smacked violently into a wall, nearly knocked over Deku’s trash can, barely missed stubbing his toe on the desk chair, crouched behind a dresser, sprang up again—

“AaaAAHH! Okay, please - w-watch out - don’t run into myyyeee! Guys, this room is way too small to - t-that’s got-! My All Might picture frame— maybe we should take this outside - i-it’s a beautiful niiigHEEE! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease look out!” Deku cried with frantically waving arms.

Both Deku and Iida yelped when the latter slipped on Deku’s All Might laptop bag strewn on the floor and crashed. Bakugou leapt at him.

“GAH! Bak - nohoho!” Iida struggled under Bakugou and made sloppy grabs for his flying hands while trying to stifle his laughter that was lessening his strength and speed, but the way Bakugou’s arms swung all over the place to evade each grab just heightened his amusement. “Wait! Dohohon't! Stop mohoving your ahaharms like - l-lihike-!”

“I’m not even doing anything, idiot, so get that dumb smile off your face!” Bakugou smirked and repeatedly tickle tased his sides, making Iida shriek a little with his arms jolting as his head fell back and he laughed between giddily panicked apologies.

“BAHAHAkugohou! I sahahaid I’m sohoHOHORRY!”

“You're gonna pay for that liE - eheHEHEHEHEY!” Suddenly their positions were reversed, and Bakugou was on the floor, twitching and flailing from the ticklish jolts that shot to his hips.

“Did you think a mastermind would go down without a fight?” Iida laughed and reached back to squeeze Bakugou’s knees, causing him to nearly squeal as he kicked. “Not so loud!” Iida teased.

“Whahahahy you-!” Bakugou found the strength to fight back, and they were rolling around yet again, attacking each other with tickles as Deku watched, both terrified and amused. But soon Bakugou, with one hand attacking under Iida’s arm, got the upper hand again.

“Thahat’s it! Quihihit trying to kihihill me, lohoser!” Bakugou snickered and finally caught his opponent’s wrists, managing to wrestle and pin part of Iida’s arms under his knees before he attacked his defenseless torso like crazy with merciless tickles, determined not to give him a chance at retaliation. “It’s your turn to die, not mine. Just accept it.”

“I cahahan’t accehept - haHAHEhehey, Bahakugahaha - ahahaHA! Stahahahahap! Ohoho nohohoho! N-No fahaihihehe-!” Iida tugged at his arms with a widening, helpless grin, and his choked giggles soon became boisterous laughter from the unhindered attack. “WaHAHAHAIT! Nohohot fahahahair!”

Bakugou chuckled victoriously. “Yes, fair. Can't laugh like a maniacal moron now when you’re laughing like this, huh? Can you? Huh? Huh?” he asked with ruthless pokes and prods all over his tummy each time.

“Pffft - NOHOHOhohahaHAHaha!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Iida shook his head. “M-Mihihidorihihiya, hehehehelp mehehe! Bakugou i-is tihickling mehehehEHE!”

“He is? I didn’t notice!” Deku had grabbed one of Iida’s ankles to lightly scribble at his foot. “Sorry, Iida, I was gonna help, but then I realized doing that would mean helping an evil mastermind, which I can’t do! I mean, I didn’t even know I was being manipulated to attack Kacchan! I also didn’t know your feet were ticklish! You’ve been hiding a lot of things, huh, mastermind?”

“Yeah, what was that mastermind thing about anyway? You wanna explain?” Bakugou asked suspiciously.

Iida had a nervous smile. “Ohohoho, that? I thihink an ehehexplanation is confidential!”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“It is?” Deku asked. Iida’s quiet giggles and squirming, his playful mood in general, warmed Deku’s heart, and he was more than happy to keep playing along as he shifted to sit on Iida’s shins and positioned his fingers at his heel, slowly crawling up his foot. “Okay, then would it still be confidential if the tickle spider comes out to climb and climb and go and goooo all the way up to your-”

“Wahahait! No, stahahahap, Mihidoriyaha! N-Nohot the spider!”

“Not the spider?” Deku froze.

“No!” Iida yelled, already giggling more.

Deku grinned cheekily. “Okay, then what about the…tickle ladybug? What if she climbs and climbs and goes and goooes aaall the way up to your-”

“Th-That’s the sahame thihihing! I knohow where yohohou’re gohoing - plehehe plehehehease! Nohohot the tohoes! Nohohot the - NahAHO NOHOHOT THE TOHOHOES, MIHIHIDORIYAHAHA!” Iida burst into cackles.

“Haha! The ladybug’s not tickling your toes, silly, shehehe’s under them!” Deku emphasized by digging and wiggling more under Iida’s toes, delighted by the renewed stream of rich laughter it pulled from his friend as he pulled his toes back so he could gently scratch there better. “Try not to move so much, okay? I know you’re really ticklish here, but she really needs to settle down into her new home! Try to be more welcoming, Iida!”

Iida was losing it. “GAHAHAHAHA! MihiHIDAHAHAHA - I-I cahahan’t wehehelcome-! Shehehe cahaHAHAN’T STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAY! NAHHAHAHAHAHAHO!” The boy was blushing and laughing so much from the teasing, he started snorting. “I-IHIHIT’S WOHOhohorse, ahahall rihihight?! I sahaid uhunder the TOHOES IS WOHOHORSE, Y-YOU TRAHAHAITOR!”

“Worse? How could it be? Look at how much it makes you - oops!” Deku’s fingers fell away when he let Iida’s foot wiggle from his grasp. “Looks like you just kicked the ladybug out. Her feelings are kind of hurt, but maybe she can try the other home?” Deku giggled and caught Iida’s other foot, fingers slowly tickling their way back up. “Hang tight, she’ll be there sooooon!”

“Mi - d-dohohon’t start ohohover! Bakugou, hehehelp! Plehehease stahahap hihim! Mihihi - h-hehehe’s gohohahaha-! G-Going fohor theheheheha - HAAhahahaa!” Iida playfully protested, further blushing and giggling maddly with his eyes shut tight, and Bakugou rolled his eyes. So cringey, Deku. But he hadn’t even realized that he was smiling a little and had stopped tickling at some point because he was so amused by the two’s silliness.

The silliness was contagious, actually, and Bakugou found himself glowering playfully at Iida. “Sorry, can’t hear you. You said he’s going for the what?”

Iida pried one of his eyes open. “The t-tohohoes ahahagain!”

Bakugou snorted. “Tch! It should be my ants you're worried about.” His “ants” crawled up to knead lightly into his ribs, which actually gave a strong reaction. Bakugou wasn’t usually one to give lighter tickles, but it looked like they worked on Iida. “Or maybe these butterflies are better,” he said as his fingers flew up to tickle Iida’s neck, then fluttered over his ears, causing the boy to sputter with a short shriek of laughter through his giggles, and Bakugou couldn’t help laughing a little himself. “Jeez, looks like you're super damn ticklish with any insect.”

“I think you’re right, Kacchan! But mine tickles more, right, mastermind?”

“Yohohou bohohoth are rihihidiculous! I dohon’t - knaHAHAHAHA! MIHIHIHIHIDORIYA! PLEHEHEHEASE!” The ladybug had reached under his toes again, scribbling there and along the arch of his foot.

“See? I think he agrees!” Deku beamed at Bakugou who looked over his shoulder to smirk at him.

“Bull. Your stupid ladybug’s no match for my worms!” Bakugou managed to worm his fingers up under Iida’s arms, wiggling them just as wildly and grinning at his booming laughter. “Right, four eyes? Don’t worry about hurting Deku’s feelings. You can tell the truth.”

“I DOHOHAHA DOHOHON’T KNOHOHOW! IHIHIT’S AHALL M-MAHADDENING, YOHOHAHAHA - NAHAHAHAHA! YOHOHOU WIHIHILL BOHOHOTH PAHAHAY, YOU M-MEHEHERCILEHEHESS VIHIHILLAINS!” Deku and Bakugou kept up their little competition of whose “insects” are more effective, the tickling sensations just as maddening to Iida as they were fun.

Eventually, Iida admitted he could explain his mastermind role, and the boys stopped, all for the blue-haired teen to trip over his words through his subsiding laughter while he gave a purposefully terrible explanation that made no sense, resulting in more tickles. They continued their fun of being goofy together a little longer until Iida truly had enough, and they relented.

But once they all settled down around the room, it wasn’t long before they fully acknowledged how noisy they’d been, and they were surprised they’d received no noise complaints. Every dorm room was designed somewhat soundproof so students in neighboring rooms wouldn’t be disturbed when sleeping or doing homework, but still, the possibility that their commotion had gone completely unheard by others was pretty amusing.

“Wehehell…it’s interesting to know no one outside this room cared about my well-being enough to rush to my aid, even though I was suffering such a near-fatal attack,” Iida said jokingly, still catching his breath a little as he smoothed his messy hair down.

“Whatever, Mr. Dramatic.”

“Mr. Dramatic?” Deku’s nose crinkled. “Kacchan…what kind of name is that?”

“What?” Bakugou smirked faintly. “It fits him perfectly.”

“Well, I beg to differ!” Iida said dramatically with the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Deku smiled slowly. “Wait, but..” You’re…also kind of dramatic, Kac—

“I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING, YOU DAMN NERD - I’M NEVER DRAMATIC! And even in the unlikely case I was, you got a problem with it?”

“No, nope! Not at all, I promise!”

“Yeah. Thought so.”

A few more seconds ticked by, and Deku tried to suppress them, but trying to just caused his string of giggles to sound so funny when they flew out that it made Iida snort quietly…which made Deku giggle again, and Iida chuckled. Which made Deku giggle yet again. And soon the two just fed off each other’s laughter until they were both laughing hard, Iida hugging his stomach where he sat leaning against a wall while Deku rolled around, banging his fist on the floor as he mirthfully cried, “Oh man, what did we just do??!”

Bakugou just watched them incredulously.

“You both can’t be serious right now. Total dorks.”

“Shh, Mihihidoriya!”

“Ahahand!” Deku’s joy was fueled by his memories. “And - and, and - you should’ve seen how you two were ping-ponging all around the room, and you both almost broke my picture frame an - ahhhahaha!”

“Midoriya, I was running for my life back then, and ahahall you were concerned about was your All Might merchandise!” Iida exclaimed. “What a friend!”

“But Iida, that picture frame’s a limited edition!”

“Oh, I don’t want to hear it!”

“Running for your life? Give me a break. Could’ve fooled me since you ran past the door like five times,” Bakugou grumbled.

“F-Fihihive times!” Deku howled at the fact Bakugou had been counting.

Iida blushed slightly. “W- how irresponsible would it have been for me to bring such chaos out into the halls and common area at this study hour? And besides, maybe I—”

“Yeah, yeah, save it.”

Deku suddenly quieted down.

“…Midoriya?” Iida started to calm down also, his smile slowly fading with the silence. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really… But…oh, man…so…” The lighthearted atmosphere shifted further. Finally Deku spoke again a bit timidly. “Please don’t be mad, okay?” He couldn’t meet either of his friends’ curious gazes as guilt crept over him. He twiddled his thumbs. “I um…”

Six seconds later.

“…So… I kind of…”

Ten seconds later.

“I - uh - well, I mean, I…sort of...”

“Deku! What is it?!” Bakugou boomed and then grated his teeth together at Iida’s subtle, disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that! We’ll be ninety-two before he says anything!”

“Okay.” Deku let out a slow breath. “I don’t have a favorite ice cream flavor at all.”

“Wait. What?” said Bakugou.

“I never said I had a favorite ice cream flavor - you sort of just assumed, Kacchan, s-so I thought it was fun not to stop you,” Deku said in a rush, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d mentioned I didn’t have a favorite flavor back when we were little, remember? J-Just because I've never cared for any kind of ice cream much. But…but I do really like cherry sherbert,” he added weakly.

“Pff.” Bakugou was...actually calm. Maybe it had to do with all the playful exertion, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry or bothered at all, really. He stood up and walked towards the door. “Who cares.”

Deku sat there a little surprised before he finally found his voice again. “Where you going?” he asked quietly.

Bakugou looked over his shoulder. “You coming for dinner or what? Can’t expect to finish crushing this project with you nerds holding me back cuz you’re starving.”

“Ah, that’s right, we’re almost late!” Iida checked the time and stood as well, Deku following suit, and the faint smell of Aizawa’s cooking became more evident as they approached the door. “Everyone’s probably already there. Good looking out, Bakugou.”

“Don’t sound so impressed. You know I always keep track of time,” Bakugou said.

“…Right.” Iida didn’t sound convinced by the statement, but actually, he didn’t seem fully present, either. He looked lost in thought.

Deku tilted his head. “Iida, what’s up?”

“Nothing. Well, it's just...perhaps I should already know this. But, sherbert is a form of ice cream, isn’t it?” the class rep wondered, looking curious beyond compare. Bakugou and Deku stopped, looked at him, then glanced at each other. Their mouths opened briefly and then closed again, unable to answer.

Maybe they would never know.

[hotwings0203]

HOWDY!! how are u doing?? Its that person who asked if you would write something for that deku imagine that @candy-hime wrote, about you and deku forced to live together and you corrupting him it could be you or reader but I just love that concept of corrupted! Deku 😩🙏🏾💕💕

Thank you, have a nice day/night!! 😪💜

OH HI HAHAHA MASSIVE BET, I think I’ll do a little bit of both. This will probably be a little self indulgent but I’ll still put it as an “x reader”!

Tw:noncon, misogyny, the reader is a bitch, vouyerism

It was a dare by your friends to live with Izuku Midorkya for a month if you really could handle any type of man.

You’ve dealt with Hawks’ cocky nature, Shoto’s bland comebacks, Bakugo’s constant state of rage- you’ve done it all. Any type of scummy or tiring man a girl has to date you’ve seen in all of these men. They’re practically walking red flags.

Until you’re forced to room with Deku for a whole freaking month.

You just don’t get him! Why is he always so cheery? What the fuck is he smiling about? And who the hell is he baking for? There’s only two of you in the house, it’s not like you’re his girlfriend or anything.

You don’t buy it. There has to be some kind of catch to all this facade of a gentleman.

“Hey, Y/N?” He knocks on your ajar door and peeks his cute little face in. “Did you have dinner yet? I was gonna eat but then I thought I’d have some ramen with you-“

“Did I say you could enter?” You slowly lift your head up from your laptop and glare at him. “Are you some kind of pervert? What if I was changing?”

“N-no! I’m so sorry, I should’ve let you answer first, I just wanted to see if you were hungry-“

“God, what are you, my dad? Is that what you want? For me to call you Daddy?” Sneering, you jump up from your bed and stall towards the door.

Deku stumbles over his feet to retreat after seeing the look on your face. “No! Not at all, what? Come on, I didn’t mean any harm-“

“Yeah? Then knock before you enter closet perv.” And with that, you slam the door mere inches away from his startled face as hard as you can, uncaring if the low this on the other side of the wood was his connection to it swinging shut.

“What a fucking brown-noser,” you mutter loud enough for him to hear.

It’s odd how long you wait behind the door before you can hear his footsteps retreat.

A week later you decide to amp it up a notch. There’s no way he’s so fucking green, there’s gotta be some twisted thing inside him that makes him tick.

And so on the day of his turn to do laundry, you decide to dump your fanciest and sluttiest undergarments into the laundry basket.

He’s in some dorky apron when you catch him kneeling over the bag, ruffling through clothes and spraying them with detergent like the good little boy he is.

You perch on the couch behind the laundry room and wait. He doesn’t hear a thing with his headphones blasting some stupid happy-go-lucky songs in his ears.

Eventually he pulls out your lace g-string, and stares at the crumpled mass in confusion. He unravels the lace and stares at it for a good minute or two in surprise you think.

But nonetheless, like the chivalrous man he is, he shakes his head and slaps his reddening cheeks to get over the shock before reaching for the spray.

This was your cue.

You make sure to sound out of breath and extra irritated when you flounce over to his kneeling form and snatch the garment out of his hands.

He jumps a bit and takes his headphones off when he sees your hand descending.

“Oh, it’s just you. You scared me for a sec’ there,” he laughs sheepishly and rubs his neck. “I was just doing the laundry, sorry if that looked weird.”

“Looked weird? You’re fucking disgusting, Dick-u. I’ve been looking for these for days now, and where do I find them? In your grubby little hands.”

His jaw drops open.

“Huh? No, you’ve got it all wrong! It was in the basket, I swear! You must have misplaced it by accident or something.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me a liar? You think I’m crazy or something? Im not the one sniffing girls’ panties!”

He frantically waves his hands to negate your accusation but you merely spit on the floor next to him.

“Don’t touch my shit again you fucking freak. Go buy a pocket pussy or something since you can’t keep it in your pants.”

At this, he pinches his eyebrows together and starts getting up.

“Hold on, what’re you being so aggressive for? I told you, they were just in here, I’m not that kind of guy.”

He steps towards but you don’t back down. Rather, you jab a finger in his toned chest and bring yourself face-to-face with him.

“Dont fucking walk up to me like that you douche. You’re the one in the wrong here, so I wouldn’t be so aggressive, like you said. Come at me like that again and I’ll fuck you up.”

With the lace in hand, you barely contain your smirk as you storm back into your room, relishing in how Izuku stands like a statue in the same place as you left him, his hands curiously curling into fists and his nostrils inflated.

But behind the safety of your door, he doesn’t continue any shenanigans.

He stays relatively quiet and out of sight for a couple of days, and you start to get bored again.

So this time, you put all your cards on the table and do a double whammy.

One night you call Katsuki, a fuck buddy of yours for a while and use him to help you get off.

You’re not really horny, but the blond side does have a way of getting you there. Luckily, your room is right next to Deku’s so your plan is executed to the best extent.

“Katsuki, oh Katsuki, please. Fuck, fuck yeah, ‘wanna hear you cum for me baby, I want you to bruise my cervix,” you babble loudly as you shove two fingers in your pussy and use your thumb to press on your clit.

“Yeah, you fucking whore, you like that? You like knowing that a shitty nerd like him’s prolly getting off to you calling my name like a slut? I bet you do, keep fucking yourself to my voice, do it otherwise I’ll bruise your ass black and blue when this month’s over.”

“Kat-Katsuki please fuck meeee dadddyyyyy oh fuck-Kacchan!” You cry out and cum violently around squelching fingers.

You put the phone down for a moment to catch your breath, but hear nothing from the other room.

Your face falls as Bakugo rambles on the other end. You hang up with him mid-sentence and remove your fingers from your legs, licking it off absentmindedly and thinking of your next move.

The next morning, you don the tiniest pairs of shorts you have in your closet that accentuates the shape of your ass and the skimpiest bra you can find that shows a peek of the top of your nipples.

You tie your hair up and amble out into the kitchen where he already is, reading something on his his phone and sipping form a black mug.

He barely darts his eyes and lifts the corners of his mouth in a hesitant greeting when he sees what you’re wearing.

He chokes on his drink and does a massive double take, juice spilling from his open mouth.

You raise an eyebrow and smooth your baby hairs, rolling your eyes and walking behind him to grab your own cup.

“See something you like?” Water trickling is the only sound in the room apart from your quip.

“Uh, n-no. Just swallowed wrong I guess.”

“Wonder why,” you drawl with a bored voice and edge closer to his back.

He’s hunched over, mindlessly scrolling too-fast on his phone to be deemed as actually reading anything. You recognize this form of coping from people like yourself who try to find distractions at parties where you don’t know people, just flipping through tabs to look like you’re actually doing something.

As you walk around him again, you make sure to train your eyes on his own, hounding he out for the moment he slips.

And slip he does, but only after you pretend to stretch and lift your self on your tippy toes in front of him, your shorts hiking up to show some cheek.

It’s only for a moment, but while the cup is against his mouth and his phone in his hand, his eyes dart to the exposed skin, then back up to your triumphant eyes.

“I knew it.”

He sighs and puts his cup down. “Knew what?”

“That you were a sick little virgin who gets off on staring at girls.”

“Y/N, I wasn’t-“

“I also know,” you raise your voice above his and slowly walk over to the table on the other side across from him, leaning forward and making sure that your tits squish together as you drop them on the countertop, “that last night you were totally listening to me on the phone with Bakugo. I heard your grunts and disgusting fapping noises. You don’t have to make it so obvious that you don’t get any.”

And this time, regardless of his indignation and frustration, he can’t stop himself from watching your hands trail up the sides of your bra and slowly drag the material down, down, down until your perfect breasts spill out and embrace the cold granite.

You honestly have no idea if he jacked off to last night’s call or not, but he doesn’t seem to be denying anything.

His mouth opens the widest you’ve even seen it. His face is beet red, and he visibly starts to perspire.

Your hands mold the soft skin and squeeze until your nipples swell and peek out from between your ruthless fingers, but you still look as bored and slightly curious as ever.

“This is all you’re ever gonna get, you sad incel. Take a good long look at them since I know this is what you’ve been wanting this entire time now.”

His mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.

When he groans and starts to bring his down down between his legs, you strike.

“I guess I really was right. You’re not some nice guy, it was all a facade. Can’t wait to tell everyone how fucked in the head you are.” His vision starts to clear as you sneer at him again and start packing your tits back where they belong.

As you turn around, you call out over your shoulder, “Oh, and by the way? You whimper like a little bitch.”

It’s silent as you walk with your head held high back to your room, sure that you had broken him and that he was going to take his loss with his own held low.

You don’t really expect to hear the thunderous sounds of someone dragging their chair away and positively sprinting towards you.

You turn halfway and your eyes widen as you see him barreling towards you with the most terrifying expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“What the fu-“

But you don’t get a chance to finish your exclamation, because Deku body slams you onto your bed and immediately seized your wrists above your head. You can feel his hard-on rub against your mound as he straddles your flailing body and keeps you pinned between his muscles calves.

“Get off of me, are you fucking crazy?” You scream and toss your head side to side, trying to arch your back to throw him off of you-which only succeeds in pressing your mound against his.

“You teasing slut. All I’ve done is try to play nice with you, but you just had to fucking push it, didn’t you?” He rages quietly, his arms shaking in effort not to snap your wrists in half. You still as his jaw clenches and trembles, his green hair hanging over his eyes that reflect nothing but malice and hate.

You’re scared. For the first time this entire month with him, you want him away from you and off of you.

“Look, I-I messed up, I know, I’m sorry-“

“-You’re sorry?” He laughs high pitched and you cringe when he thrusts his face towards yours, practically brushing noses and seeing his bloodshot crazed eyes.

“Yeah, you will be sorry. After today, you won’t ever fuck with me again. Or at least want to. I’ll do whatever the hell I want with you though since that’s what you’ve been so hellbent on achieving, right?”

His scarred hands waste no time in yanking down your bra the same way you did before, except much less gentler than you did by yourself.

“No, no, Deku please, I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You whimper and struggle again beneath him, which is promptly stopped with a loud squeal when he pinches your nipple.

“Shut up. Wanton bitches like you don’t get to beg for mercy.”

He smirks and lets his tongue flop onto your strained neck, slobbering like a dog all over you.

“This is what you wanted right? For me to put you in your place and fuck your needy hole? And you had the audacity to call me disgusting,” he laughs and draws back, mocking your wobbling lips.

“Oh, oh baby don’t cry,” he holds both your wrists in one hand and uses the other to caress your cheek, slapping it hard when you turn away from his touch. “You’re just gonna get what’s coming to you.”

He indicates what he means by grinding his hips against the front of your shorts, snickering as you whimper and dipping his fingers below the hem, teasing you cruelly.

“Whose whimpering like the bitch now, huh?”

[silv3rswirls]

Learning Experience Pt.2

Anon asks: can we please get more of prof joon? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 something like namjoon bent her on his desk and was drilling into her from behind, then Professor Min walks in on them. 👀💀 it's high time you wrote a threesome, baby 🥵 two doms degrading, spitting and cumming on one inexperienced student sub oof- 👀🥵 i need me some holy water 🥵 it doesn’t have to be suga btw, add any member you like 🥺🥺 love you ❤️🥺

Warnings: female reader, professor/student, blowjobs, threesome, spit, spanking dirty talk/degradation, slight crying, overstimulation

Word count: 2k

nsfw below the cut

Your next after-class meeting with Professor Kim couldn’t have come sooner. Just waiting through his class drove you mad with impatience and left your mind to run wild and dirty as he lectured for the hour. You fidgeted in your seat as time ticked down, not caring about the annoyed glances the students around you were giving. Your mind was dead set on the fantasy of Namjoon fucking you, especially since it felt like it had been forever since the last time. Spring break had come quickly and Namjoon seemed too busy to meet up during the break- that or he didn’t want to. His class was ending soon as well, leaving you unsure of what would become of your and your professor’s odd relationship. Maybe it was foolish to have grown somewhat attached to him. Besides fulfilling just about every sexual fantasy and desire you had- he was actually pretty nice. 

As everyone packed their belongings up and scurried out of the classroom, you stayed behind, slowly putting your things away before looking to Namjoon with a small smile. “Y/n, I was surprised to see how well you did” he commented as he flashed your latest paper to you.

You shrugged, “ I have a good teacher.” Your eyes followed Namjoon as he finished clearing his papers off his desk and slid his laptop away. You got up, moving to sit up on his desk and wait for him like always.

“You’re so impatient, can’t even make small talk?” He teased, rounding the desk to stand before you. You chewed on your lip, a wave of butterflies in your stomach as he leaned in closer. His hands massaged up and down your thighs, fingertips brushing the hem of your skirt.

“We can talk if you want…” You sighed under his touch. Namjoon hummed and leaned to begin kissing your neck, his hands continuing to knead your soft thighs. 

“It’s fine” he murmured, “we have a lot to get to.” You wet your lips, mind running wild to what all the two of you would be getting up to. You were surprised you weren’t already on your knees for him, as that was how things usually began. What more could the two of you do other than blowing him or fucking? Namjoon’s hands found their way from your thighs and up your sides, stopping your chest and giving your breasts a light squeeze. “You remember the safeword?” You nodded with a hum, eager to see what he wanted to do with you. Namjoon didn’t waste any time in unbuttoning your shirt and discarding it, your bra went next and his hands were on your bare chest in no time. He groped you, his thumb rolling over your nipple a few times and you hummed a small moan when his mouth replaced them. You wrapped your arms around him and wracked your fingers through his hair. 

You felt your professor’s teeth graze your shoulder as he turned away from your chest, placing little pecks up to your neck before leaving a hickey at the base of your neck. His hands found your thighs again, wasting no time in pushing under your skirt and pulling your panties down. His fingers dipped into your pussy, his thumb reaching to tease your clit. You squirmed and moaned under his movements, blushing as Namjoon’s gaze lifting to meet yours. A smile played on his lips as you squirmed under his stare. He didn’t tease you for long, didn’t even bother to say anything as he had you’re cumming around his fingers.

You took a moment to recover, a small pout coming to your face. You liked the pleasure but missed his usual teasing and degrading. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling it today? You reached for his belt, undoing it and moving to slip onto your knees, only to have him stop you. You were about to ask what was wrong or if he was done with you for the day, but he stopped you. “Wanna fuck you today” he murmured, turning your body and pushing you over his desk. After a few seconds of anticipation, you felt the head of his cock brush against you. One hand kept a tight grip on your hip as he pushed in, taking in the sight of your greedy hole stretching around and taking his dick. You sighed at the feeling and resisted the urge to push yourself back onto him as he seemed to be dragging the moment out. And when he completely stilled his movements you whined, tossing your head to look over your shoulder. “Hm?” He hummed, “something wrong?”

“Keep going” you pleaded. “Faster- harder.”

“Always so greedy” Namjoon faked annoyance, but the little grin never left his face. You moaned as he started thrusting again, this time at a much more satisfying pace. He gripped your hips roughly and held you in place as he fucked you. “Such a whore, only for your professor, right?” You nodded, yelping as his hand came down onto your ass. “Say it” he demanded.

“Only for you.” Your eyes squeezed shut as he kept the rough pace up and you’re relished in the sting left every time he smacked your ass. You were sure you’d be sore sitting in class tomorrow, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the pleasure building up in you and you almost tuned Namjoon and the rest of your surroundings out, but something brought you back. Your eyes snapped open as the door squeaked open, Had Namjoon forgotten to lock the door again? “N-Namjoon” You stuttered, there was no way the two of you could hide what was happening this time. Your eyes went wide as another man stepped in and you felt even more embarrassed as you made eye contact with him. “P-professor Min” you spoke, trying desperately to get Namjoon’s attention away from fucking the daylights out of you. 

To your relief, Namjoon slowed down, “Yoongi, you’re late.”

“H-huh?” you looked back at your professor in confusion.

The door behind Yoongi closed and the lock clicked. “I got caught up.”

“What do you think Y/n?” Namjoon turned his attention back to you. “Want to let Professor Min join us today?” You gawked at Namjoon for a second, swallowing the dry lump in your throat. You knew of Min Yoongi but had never taken any of his classes. You vaguely remembered a friend of yours gush over how cute he was- and he was pretty handsome. Namjoon had been your first experience, so you had never really thought of the idea of a threesome, but...why not? You were already sleeping with your professor, why not just go all out at this point?

“Yes,” you breathed, despite being interested in trying it you couldn’t help the embarrassment seeping into you.

“Of course you do, such a slut.”

 Before you knew it Namjoon was back to fucking you and Yoongi was standing in front of you. It seemed that Namjoon had already given Yoongi all the details, preferring to catch you by surprise. You didn’t mind though, admittedly the situation was pretty hot. Yoongi brushed the wisps of hair from your face as your hand pumped up and down his shaft. “Are you sure?” Yoongi asked quietly and you nodded with a small yes without much thought. He smirked, “Namjoon said you were eager, but I didn’t expect this much” he commented before pushing himself in your mouth. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before he was thrusting wildly into you with his fingers laced in your hair. You sputtered and choked out a moan as the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. Yoongi persisted though, eating up the gags and lewd noises you were making. 

“Look at him when you suck him off” Namjoon ordered and you tried to hum an apology as you met Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi only gripped your hair tighter as he questioned how you could still look so innocent with his dick rammed into your throat. 

“Fuck, you used to be such a good student, what happened?” Namjoon groaned as he fucked you. “Let yourself become such a slut so I’d help your grade?” Yoongi let go of your hair, only for Namjoon to grab it and yank you off of Yoongi. Your back arched as he pulled and Yoongi scoffed at the strings of spit poling at the corner of your mouth.

“You like being a mess?” He asked before grabbing your face and you squirmed under Namjoon as you felt your orgasm hit.

“I do” you moaned breathlessly as his fingers swiped to smear the saliva across your cheek.

“She’s always a drooling mess by the time we’re done.” Namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened as he came, spilling his cum inside you. You tried to steady your breathing as Namjoon pulled out. Your body rested on his desk and you squirmed tiredly at the feeling of his cum seeping from your pussy. You jumped at the feeling of one of them playing with you, rubbing your sensitive clit sloppily. You picked your head up to find Yoongi behind you now. 

“Too much” you whined, tensing and squirming as Yoongi worked another orgasm out of you. Namjoon had taken Yoongi’s place in front of you, bushing your frazzled locks away and taking in your flushed face and tired eyes.

He pulled your head back, a bit more gentle this time. “Open” you let your mouth fall open without much of a thought, your eyes dropping closed as you feel him spit into your mouth. You didn’t have to be told to swallow and did so, letting Namjoon see that you had. Tears had already dripped down your face from Yoongi abusing your throat earlier, but fresh ones were beginning to bubble up as Yoongi seemed relentless in pushing you with more and more pleasure. When he finally stopped toying with you he turned you over so your back rested against the desk. “Gonna let Professor Min fuck you now?” Namjoon asked and you nodded, whining loudly as you felt Yoongi’s cock slid into you. Your tears fell as he began to thrust into you. 

“Feels so good” you gasped.

“You let Namjoon fuck you to get your grade up, are you that stupid?” He spat, “what’s your excuse for fucking me?” Yoongi questioned, his stare hard as he watched your face twist and flush in pleasure. “Don’t have one? Just an empty-headed slut now?” You ate up his degrading words, it seemed that his voice could get you off just as well as Namjoon could. You peeked your eyes open to look back at Namjoon, who seemed to be enjoying the view of his colleague fucking you, and you had to admit that you were enjoying it just as much.

“Are you crying Y/n?” Namjoon laughed. You hadn’t even noticed the fresh tears re-staining your face as you came for the fourth time. You felt another glob of spit hit your face, running down your cheek with your tears. Yoongi was close behind you, cumming in you and pulling out halfway to let the rest hit your cunt. Yoongi remained between your legs for a moment, coming down from his high as he watched the cum drip down and out of you. Even after Yoongi stepped away to clean himself up you stayed there, trying to calm yourself down.

“Did we go too hard on her?” Yoongi finally asked, fixing his belt as Namjoon came to help you clean up.

“She’ll be fine” He smiled, “Come on Y/n, let’s clean you up.” You nodded before looking back at Yoong and thanking him for the fun. “I’ll take you for dinner after this, Yoongi can come too” Namjoon decided, “we can go back to my place afterward.” You smiled, eager to see what the three of you could possibly get up to later.

[stardusttrashed]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Sasha x Connie 

Word Count: 4K

Part 2

“Have you ever seen a man that good-looking?” You hummed at Sasha’s comment, not even bothering to look up from your screen to see who she was referring to. “I mean, wow! He’s like a greek god or something.” 

Connie rolled his eyes in amusement at his girl’s rambles. “He does have nice eyebrows,” he joined in.

She whipped her head towards Connie with a dumbfounded smile. “Right?! He could probably cut someone with those cheekbones.” 

With a sigh, you looked up from your laptop, finally indulging the two. “Who’s the so-called Greek god,” you asked in an unamused tone. Your eyes followed Sasha’s finger through the fairly empty coffee shop until they landed on a man sitting alone by the window.

Sasha was right, which didn’t often happen unless it involved food. He was intimidatingly perfect, chiseled from his face to his body. The sunlight hung around him like a cloak, providing an angelic glow that shadowed his strong cheekbones and jawline. He leaned casually in the chair, his large frame towering over the plastic structure as his arm rested on the table. His hand loosely held onto the cup in front of him, ever ready to take another sip. His other hand held a book in the air. The book looked small in his hands like it was merely a phone. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he glanced up from his book, giving you a perfect view of his face. You couldn’t believe your eyes. More accurately, you couldn’t believe the cerulean eyes and incredibly thick eyebrows you saw. “You’re shitting me,” you breathed in disbelief. Sasha and Connie turned to face you with curious expressions. You bit back a girlish smile and shook your head, “it’s nothing.” You shrugged off their unconvinced looks and quickly added, “I just, uh, I used to have him as a teacher.”

Sasha’s eyes practically bulged out of her head at your words, “you’re telling me you had that-” she gestured to the man across the room, “- for a teacher, and I’m just now hearing about this?! How’d you even focus? What’d he teach? Was he always this good-looking? Does he still teach?” Connie opened his mouth to interject, but Sasha cut him off by placing her finger on his lips. “No, I’m going to Mystery inc. this and get to the bottom of this. She’s been withholding valuable information!”

You let out a chuckle and ducked your head in embarrassment. “It’s not that big of a deal,” you trailed off. “It was years ago. He probably doesn’t even remember me.” You tried to sound as carefree as possible despite the butterflies at the thought.

“That’s not what I-” Sasha quickly shut her mouth as another voice joined the conversation. 

“I thought it was you,” a smooth husky voice cut in. You looked up to see the greek god smiling gently at you. His thick eyebrows knitted together nervously when you didn’t reply after a moment. “Y/n, right?”

Your cheek warmed as your name fell from his lips. It fell from his lips so naturally like it belonged there, filling you with an indescribable warmth. “Mr. Smith,” you breathed as a giddy smile formed on your lips. “It’s been a while.” You wet your lips as you not so subtly looked him up and down. He was a lot more muscular now than he was a few years ago. He had practically doubled in size since you last saw him. The rolled-up sleeves of his off-white button-up shirt clung to his arms desperately. A few buttons were left open, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his collarbone. 

Sasha was right. He was nothing short of a greek god. He was enough to make statues envious.

The worry in Erwin’s face dissipated into a dreamy grin, “far too long.” You looked exactly like he remembered you, gorgeous. He cleared his throat as he looked down at the book in his hand. “I was passing by and saw you,” his icy blue eyes met yours. “I was going to ask if you would like to catch up, but I see you’re busy.”

“She’d love to,” Connie quickly answered for you, nudging Sasha under the table. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about us,” Sasha stammered as she rose from her seat. “We had things planned anyway.”

“Right,” you drawled, turning your attention towards the couple that was preparing to leave. 

“Yeah, so we’ll see ya later,” Connie hurriedly responded. His words spilled out like water from a broken dam as he gathered your stuff for you. You opened your mouth to protest, but you knew anything you said would only fall on deaf ears. Connie stood up and walked off hand and hand with Sasha.

You could hear their mischievous giggles until they were finally out of sight. You shook your head with a chuckle before looking back up at Erwin. “Well, Mr. Smith, it looks like you’re in luck. My schedule just so happened to free up.” You shrugged, flashing him a gentle smile, “what a coincidence.” 

“Looks like it was meant for us to catch up,” Erwin remarked with a nervous chuckle. He offered his hand to you, helping you out of your seat. He tucked his book under his arm, freeing his other hand so he could grab your bag for you before handing it to you.

A bashful smile graced your lips at his actions as you mumbled a quiet ‘thank you.’ You had always pictured him as quite a gentleman, but his chivalrous acts melted your heart. You walked by his side quietly until you reached a nearby park. Erwin led you under a tree, stopping you so he could lay his jacket on the ground for you to sit on.

“Hope you’re not trying to impress me, Mr. Smith,” you giggled, sitting down on his suit jacket. Your hands absentmindedly busied themselves, smoothing out the wrinkles in his coat.

“Just doing what feels right.” He chortled as he sat beside you. “And it’s just Erwin.”

“Alright, just Erwin,” you joked in a silky voice. 

He laughed his first real laugh of the day, the sound coming from deep with his stomach. “Still as witty as ever.” His ocean eyes never left your face once, too stunned to look anywhere else. 

He could still remember the first time he laid eyes on you. You took his breath away from the very beginning. Every part of you intrigued him, from your looks to your brain. The way the sun shined off your melanin skin made you look like nothing short of a goddess in his eyes. The golden highlight was almost too much for him to take. There was a glow about you that he couldn’t find anywhere else no matter how hard he looked. It didn’t matter if you were outside or under the dead fluorescent lights of the classroom, you were a star, demanding attention without ever really trying. 

“Wow,” he breathed quietly after a moment. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

You giggled shyly and rolled your eyes. “Wish I could say the same about you. You look like you could give Chris Evans a run for his money.” You enjoyed the small blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m serious. The Mr. Smith- er, Erwin I knew wasn’t as,” you trailed off, growing too embarrassed to continue. You looked down at your pants instead, picking at the threads.

Erwin was thankful you stopped yourself from continuing. He didn’t think his cheeks could handle any more compliments from you. Had you continued, he probably would’ve ended up looking like a tomato. “Thank you.” He scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly.

You fought back a cheeky smile as you noticed him timidly look away. Despite his outer appearance, he was a big softie. It was like being next to the big friendly giant. “So, what do you do for a living nowadays? You still a teacher?”

“I am actually, they made me one of the official creative writing professors. It doesn’t leave much free time for writing anymore, but I love it nonetheless.” He smiled wistfully as he watched the people walk past. A few quiet moments passed before he brought his attention back to you. “Y’know, I’ve seen a lot of bright students come and go, but none have been quite as amusing as you.” Erwin bit the inside of his cheek, hoping he wasn’t being too forward. 

You shrugged off his comment, oblivious to their hinting undertone, “we were a good class and your first class. Of course, we’re going to leave an impression on you.”

He hummed thoughtfully in reply as if that wasn’t what he was getting at. “What about you? What’d you end up doing?”

“I guess you can say I took after my favorite teacher and became a writer.” You glanced at him through the corner of your eye, gauging his reaction.

“I was your favorite teacher?” Erwin couldn’t help the bashful smile that forced its way onto his face. 

“Wow,” you dragged out dramatically with a teasing smile. You met Erwin’s steady gaze and playfully pushed his arm. It took every ounce of self-control not to leave your hand resting on his bicep. You pushed the thought aside, choosing to continue to tease him instead. “Someone’s cocky! You aren’t the only teacher I had who wrote.”

“Then who, if I may ask, was it?”

“Just some teacher, you probably wouldn’t know them. Y’know big campus and all.” You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Right,” Erwin drawled out with an amused smile. “Well, just in case you ever need some help or a writing buddy-,” he fished around in his pockets before pulling his phone out, “-maybe I should give you my number.” His eyes flashed down to his phone. “Just assuming your favorite professor is busy or anything.” 

You chewed on your lip, fighting back a playful smile. “Of course, there’s no such thing as too many connections.” Erwin hummed in response, handing you his phone. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers gently brushed against yours. 

“Ah,” you exclaimed once you caught sight of the time, “crap! I told him I told Eren I wouldn’t be late again.” You groaned, handing back the phone as you scrambled to your feet. “I’m sorry I have to go,” you sent Erwin an apologetic smile. “It was really nice catching up. We should do it again sometime! Ugh, hopefully, Armin is there to make sure  he doesn’t kill me.”

Erwin opened his mouth to remind you about the phone but decided against it at the last minute. “Be safe,” he called out to you as you ran off. He wasn’t even sure you had heard him, probably too caught up in rushing to hear clearly. His eyes followed your frame until it disappeared in the crowded streets. A disappointed sigh fell from his lips. Letting you leave the second time wasn’t any easier than the first. He thought maybe this time would be different. This time he would have the courage to ask you to stay without any restrictions. 

He chuckled at himself as he stood up and gathered his things. Here he was pitying himself over the fact that you had left again. Yet, fate had brought you together twice already. If he had the chance to see you again, he promised himself that he would let you walk away so easily. After all, they say third times the charm. 

***

“What is it,” Levi asked, earning a quiet hum from Erwin. He took a sip of tea before continuing. “You keep scanning the room like you’re looking for someone,” he noted. “You’ve barely paid attention to any conversation. Plus,” Levi set his cup down before leaning his chin on his hand, “you made us drive thirty minutes to go to a coffee shop even though you have one walking distance from your house. So, what’s so special about this place?” He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbow on the back of it. “Cause apparently, it’s not the coffee.”

Erwin looked down at his still full cup of coffee, which was now lukewarm at best. He chuckled embarrassedly, hoping the sudden warmth he was experiencing was just his imagination. His order was long forgotten, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of you. “Guess I’ve been caught,” he smiled embarrassedly.

“You’re kidding right,” Sasha yelled at you as you walked through the door. “You left Mr. Perfect without giving him your number.  To go be with Eren?” She looked to Connie with a baffled expression for support. “Am I the only one who sees how stupid that was?”

“Relax already,” you sighed. You had already gotten this speech before over text. You got it repeatedly, actually, at least once every day for the past week. “I know. I wasn’t thinking-.”

“Oh, I know,” she cut you off. “That’s like you having a perfectly juicy steak handed to you, just for you to reject it for a cold chicken nugget.”

“Eren is cute in his own way,” you tried to defend him only to be completely ignored. 

“Well, Armin is more like a steak too, just a little one,” Connie chimed in as he read the menu. 

“True. Wait, no, that’s not the point.” She stopped mid-rant to tell the cashier her order. “The point is she had-.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You paused to put in your order before following Sasha to your usual table. “I left Erwin to go meet up with Eren, who was fucking late anyways.”

“Yeah, sure, no worries. No need to pitch in or offer; I got it,” Connie grumbled as he paid. He trailed behind you and Sasha, plopping down in his usual spot with a childish huff. 

“Thank you, lovebug,” Sasha cooed, pecking his cheek. “You’re the best, unlike some people.” She glared playfully at you from the corner of her eye. 

You sighed melodramatically, practically rolling your eyes into the back of your head. “How long are you going to hold this over me?”

“She’ll think about the answer to that while you go get our drinks,” Connie answered for her with a devilish smirk. 

“Wow,” you drawled with a feigned hurt expression, “you too, Connie?” You shook your head disappointedly, “can’t trust no one.” You begrudgingly walked over to the counter where three drinks sat. You nearly dropped the cup in your hands as a familiar voice spoke up behind you. 

“Mind if I give you a hand?”  

“Erwin,” you gasp, jumping harder than you’d like. The scalding tea on your skin left little time for you to feel embarrassed. “Ah,” you hissed under your breath as you quickly placed the cup back on the counter. “Fuck.”

“Apologies,” Erwin quickly stepped in beside you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Without thinking, he took your hand into his own, cradling it like you were made of glass. His warm hands were nothing in comparison to the rising heat in your cheeks as he gently wiped your hand with a napkin. “I just wanted to say ‘hi,’” he continued in a low bashful voice.

You couldn’t help the soft giggles that tumbled from your lips. There he was, being a big friendly giant again. You looked up at him for the first time, watching the way his brows furrowed with concern. “Well, I’m glad you did.” You gave his hand a grateful squeeze, “wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you again. I definitely need all the help I can get with my new project.”

“I- uh, well,” he stumbled over his words, quickly retracting his hand from yours. He carefully grabbed all three cups. “Where to?” He felt childish getting this flustered over just being around you. The small smile on your face was enough to send his heart into overtime. 

You plucked your cup from his hand, gingerly taking a sip. With a nod, you led him to your table. 

“Took you long en-ah!” Sasha’s eyes bulged out of her head as her eyes landed on the towering figure behind you. “What the hell,” she exclaimed, causing a few curious glances to be cast in her direction. “I- you,” she focused her gaze on you, “how’d you manage to find the greek god again?”

Your eyebrows shot up more in embarrassment than in surprise. Sasha was never once for subtleties, always the most outspoken one of the group. You set your cup down with a sigh. “I’m sorry about her,” you turned to him with an apologetic. “Erwin meet Sasha and Connie-,” you took their cups from his hands and set them on the table, “-Sasha and Connie meet Erwin.”

Connie nodded in acknowledgment, “feel free to sit with us.” You could tell he was trying to play it cool for your sake. Truth be told, Sasha had him just as invested in the man as she was. It probably wasn’t the healthiest, but it damn sure is fun. Who needed reality tv when they could just watch you?

Erwin could feel your hopefully expectant gaze focus on him, yet his eyes remained trained on Connie. Probably to keep him from turning any redder. He was already on the verge of becoming a tomato as it is. “I actually came here with a friend.” 

“Invite him over,” Sasha blurted out. She ignored the way you momentarily glared daggers at her for pushing the subject. “The more, the merrier.”

They both looked like they had turned to putty as Erwin chuckled quietly. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought they were the ones with a crush on him. Not that you had a crush on him. You just liked admiring the man and being around him. “Guys-.”

“So this is why you’ve been dragging me here every day,” a cold, unfamiliar voice cut in. His voice alone was enough to send chills down your spine. So much so that you nearly missed that he said Erwin was coming here every day. Even Sasha and Connie straightened up under his presence. “Interesting. Mind if I take a seat?”

You turned to the man, catching his piercing eyes finish looking you up and down. He was shorter and leaner than Erwin, but something about his presence made him seem like the more intimidating of the two. “Y-yeah, sure.” You paused for a while, allowing his words to register in your mind.

“Everyone, meet Levi,” Erwin broke the silence as he took a seat next to you. “Levi, meet Sasha, Connie, and Y/n.” 

“So you’ve been coming here every day,” you blurted out, getting the attention of everyone. You waited for an answer but only received a bashful smile. Your mind was moving a mile a minute. You were sure you were making a bigger deal of this than necessary. 

“Starting to think he doesn’t come here for the drinks,” Levi said smugly, answering for Erwin. “Or maybe I’m just imagining things,” he mumbled into his cup.

You took a seat between Levi and Erwin, your eyes never leaving his frame. 

“Y’know, I like this place a lot,” Sasha chimed in, barely able to hide her cheeky smile. “But I don’t think the scenery is great enough to make me come here every day.”

“I’ve definitely had better coffee,” Connie shrugged. 

“Tea is nothing to brag about either,” Levi agreed despite taking another sip from his cup.

You could feel the embarrassment radiating off of Erwin. With every new playfully dig, it seemed harder to get him to meet your gaze. His ocean eyes landed everywhere but on you. 

“That’s an interesting-looking napkin, huh,” you asked teasingly in a voice only he could hear. He glanced at you through the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Well, the prices are nice, though,” Sasha continued to tease slyly. You glanced over at Sasha with an exasperated glare, which she shrugged off. “So, Levi- was it- how do you know Erwin?”

“You’re loving this aren’t you,” Erwin groaned, finally bringing his eyes up to meet your own. He was enjoying every minute of looking at your playful smile, basking in the welcoming warmth. He shook his head with a chuckle, already knowing your answer from the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Oh, every minute,” you giggled as you pointed a finger at his rosy cheeks. “Between you being a tomato and finding out Erwin the Greek god Smith came here looking for me-.” 

“Cocky much?” Erwin flashed a dashing smile, “who said I was looking for you?”

You nodded, holding back a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. How silly of me.” You took your phone out with a shrug, “guess there’s no point in asking for your number then.” Erwin opened his mouth as if he was about to protest but quickly closed it.  

“Hey,” Sasha interjected with a huff. “What’s the fun in making fun of you two if y’all just go into your own little la-la lands.” 

“We weren’t,” you stammered before getting cut off by Connie.

“Were. We had a whole conversation, and you two didn’t even notice,” he stated matter of factly with a shrug before his mischievous grin returned to his lips. “At least exchange phone numbers this time.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, far too embarrassed to glare or come up with a retort. Your mouth opened and closed a few times like a gasping fish before you decided to keep your mouth closed with a huff. Just as you were about to change the subject, you noticed Erwin reach for your phone lying on the table. 

“We were actually just getting to that,” Erwin replied with a cocky yet teasing grin. It was like someone flipped a switch on him. He was no longer this huge blushy and shy giant next to you. He exuded confidence but never crossed over into being cocky or egotistical. He took your phone in his hand and handed it to you so you could unlock it. “Y’know before we were interrupted from our ‘la la land’ and all.”

Sasha looked to you with a surprised expression as if asking for confirmation. You weren’t sure which was more shocking to her, that you were actually about to exchange numbers or that Erwin was finally retaliating. You mimicked Connie’s nonchalant shrug from a few moments ago as you unlocked your phone for Erwin. 

Everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats as Erwin typed in his contact information. Even Levi was visibly intrigued, though he tried to hide under his regular hardened and uninterested expression. Erwin didn’t notice anyone but you, however. All he could feel was your warmth beside him and your gaze locked on his hands. Having your undivided attention made him want to type even slower. 

“Geez, what are you, a turtle? Actually, I think I’ve seen turtles move faster,” you teased with a nervous chuckle. The sudden quiet atmosphere at the table was too much. You felt the need to say something. Was that the best? Probably not.

Erwin laughed a throaty laugh, “someone seems eager.” His eyes flitted up to yours, “guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were the same way in class. That’s probably why you were one of my favorites. But I feel the need to remind you,” he handed you your phone, “sometimes taking things slow is what makes it fun.”

The way he held your gaze sent your mind into a drunken-like daze. He was intoxicating in every way, completely taking over your mind until all you could think of was you and him. “Dealing with all these writing deadlines might’ve made me forget that.” You leaned closer, resting your chin in your palm. “Maybe I need a demonstration to help jog my memory.”

Erwin looked at you with a lopsided smirk. His eyes trailed down your face, landing on your lips longer than he intended. Every ounce of him wanted to take you up on the suggestion, but he wasn’t sure if you were being serious or just teasing. 

“There you two go again,” Levi interrupted. You quickly sat back in your chair, creating room between you and Erwin. You could faintly make out a small chuckle from Levi. “If you two wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

“N-no,” you quickly stammered. “It’s not like that.” You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks. “It’s just-,” you glanced at Erwin with a small smile, “-it’s nice seeing one of my favorite teachers again.”

“I sure hope your classroom wasn’t filled with as much sexual tension,” Sasha murmured. 

Erwin raised an eyebrow in confusion. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but closed into a tight line. 

“On that note, I should get going.” You quickly rose from your seat, avoiding making eye contact with Erwin. “Got another meeting with Jeager-bomb.” Sasha practically rolled her eyes into the back of her head but kept her mouth shut. At least you got his number before running off again. “Bye, guys! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, Levi.” You finally let your fall on Erwin, who had a somewhat expectant look on his face. “I’ll call you the next time I need help,” you couldn’t fight the girlish smile tugging on your lips.

“I look forward to it.”

[from-seas-to-skies]

The Teacher / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎

warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex

words: 5,772

(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)

-

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?

Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.

However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.

Professor Bakugou.

Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.

He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.

So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.

Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.

At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.

That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.

You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.

It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.

And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

If only class could end sooner.

“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.

He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?

Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.

You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?

With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.

-

“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.

You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.

“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.

Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”

Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”

“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”

At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”

Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.

“You want him to fuck you, right?”

Wait, what?

Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”

Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”

Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.

“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”

“Mina.”

“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”

“Mina.”

“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“

“MINA.”

“What?”

You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”

Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”

Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

Mina shrugs. “Meh.”

“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”

“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”

With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”

Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.

She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.

It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!

As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.

You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?

“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”

Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…

You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.

And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.

It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.

You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.

As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.

He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.

There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.

Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.

“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.

For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.

Oh, shit.

You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”

Oh, shit.

There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.

The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”

Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”

Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?

“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.

Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!

“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.

“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.

Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.

Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.

“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.

Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.

“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”

“…Hah?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”

“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”

You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”

Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”

“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”

Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?

“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”

Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.

“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.

“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.

“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”

You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.

“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”

Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?

Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Oh my god.

Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.

“I know.”

Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”

“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Smack.

You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.

“Say it.”

Smack.

“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Smack.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.

“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.

“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”

“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”

Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.

A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.

You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.

All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.

“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.

“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”

“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”

Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”

Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”

Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.

Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.

“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”

“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“

“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”

Katuski.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.

The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.

His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”

“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.

Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”

“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.

He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”

[vennilavee]

stormy skies

pairing: levi x reader, and baby kaiya

summary: it’s not the first time you’re home late from work.

word count: ~2260

warnings: a shitty boss, some cursing

a/n: wrote this because i couldnt sleep last night due to the current us election... enjoy

***

Levi peeks his head into Kaiya’s bedroom, and sees her fast asleep in her bed. She’s surrounded by pillows, her lion stuffed animal, as well as her butterfly, shark, and flower pillow. It’s been about an hour since she fell asleep for her afternoon nap. 

He thought he heard a noise on the baby monitor, but it was nothing. Just her shifting in bed.

Her face is squished into the pillow and Levi can’t help the small upturn of his lips at the sight.

Kaiya’s already almost two years old, and neither you nor Levi can quite believe it. Levi claims that she’s the spitting image of you, but you claim the opposite.

You’re both right.

Levi’s career allows for him to work from home for most days. You and Levi had spent the better part of two weeks setting up his office, back when you had first moved into your new home. Before Kaiya was born. He has two monitors on his mahogany desk, a sleek keyboard and an even sleeker mouse with his laptop plugged into the dock.

A photo of you and a photo of Kaiya sits next to the monitor on the left, and a photo of the three of you next to the monitor on the right. The baby monitor is in front of him, just in case Kaiya wakes up before she is supposed to.

He’s eager for Kaiya to wake up and for you to come home, and he puts his glasses on to get to work and hopefully end his day early.

***

Levi shoves a hand in his hair, expelling a deep sigh as he logs out of work. He stretches his arms and his legs, only to be alerted by a slight vibration from his phone.

It’s a text from you:

angel: gonna be late today… levi: again? angel: yes :(

Levi sighs to himself, waiting a few seconds before replying.

levi: ok, be safe 

It’s the third time this week, and he’s lost count of how many times you’ve come home late over the last few weeks. At first, it hadn’t bothered him. But then it became a habit. And then Kaiya was asking for you during dinner.

That was the first of a few fights. They usually ended with you promising that you’d be better about it and draw the boundaries you needed to draw.

And yet… 

Levi hears Kaiya waking up on the baby monitor, her soft coos and calls of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’ nearly echoing in the silent room. He turns the monitor off and walks upstairs to her bedroom, where he finds her sitting up. Her smile is sleepy and she makes grabby hands for him with her stuffed lion tucked under her arm.

“Daddy,” She beams at him.

“Slept well, Kai?” Levi asks and she doesn’t reply, instead tucking her face into his neck. Levi brushes his lips over her forehead as he carries her downstairs. She’s still warm from her nap, grey eyes blinking sleepily. 

Levi gets started on dinner with Kaiya on his hip and feeds her spoonfuls of sauce and bits of meat here and there, which she accepts eagerly. She smiles widely with her nose scrunched when she likes it. You’d claim that her smile is identical to Levi’s, but he disagrees.

He’d tell you that everything good about Kaiya comes from you.

Levi gets lost in his thoughts of you, wondering if you’re on your way home. He’s having trouble remembering the last time you both had gone to bed together without the melancholy of your work schedule hanging over your head.

He sighs. Kaiya hears him and looks up curiously.

“Daddy?” Kaiya says, patting his cheek, “Mama?”

“Mama’s comin’ home late, kid,” Levi says, “Again. Do you miss her?”

Kaiya lets out a sigh suspiciously similar to his.

“Yeah. Me too, kid.”

***

By the time you come home, it’s well past dinnertime. Levi had left out a plate for you, but by now, it’s cold. You kick your heels off and place them in the closet neatly, grimacing at the covered plate on the dinner table and your empty living room.

You can almost taste Levi’s disappointment. But you just want to see Kaiya, you know she’ll be able to cheer you up.

What a shitty day. Shitty week. Shitty month. With every day that goes by, you’re getting closer and closer to telling your boss to shove his foot up his ass. 

You immediately head into Kaiya’s bedroom, where you’re certain Levi is telling her a bedtime story. You’re not even sure what time it is- is she asleep? Are you too late?

You hate bringing the smell of work home, preferring to change into comfy clothes before greeting Kaiya and Levi with a kiss. But you can’t wait, not tonight. Not when you know that Levi is upset with you and when you miss Kaiya so much that you ache.

“Kaiya?” You whisper, “Kaiya, baby?”

“Mama!” Kaiya squeals, looking up from the book that Levi’s reading to her, “Hi, mama!”

You kneel next to her bed and open your arms for a hug. She jumps into your arms happily and you kiss her cheeks and her forehead as she giggles wildly.

“I missed you, baby,” You mumble, holding her close, “So much.”

You pull away and cup her cheeks tenderly, rubbing with your thumb. Kaiya only looks at you with the same disarming silver eyes that belong to Levi. Her eyes are soft when she looks at you, her grin bright and toothy.

“Daddy, story,” Kaiya says, pointing to Levi.

“Can mama join?” You ask quietly, looking at Levi.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course mama can join,” Levi murmurs, patting the spot next to him.

You don’t even admonish him for saying ‘stupid’ in front of your daughter and he says nothing about you wearing your work clothes in his daughter’s bed.

You kiss the corner of Levi’s mouth, taking his hand in his as he continues to read to Kaiya. He squeezes your hand every so often, listening to the way Kaiya gasps and giggles at the story. Levi doesn’t tell the story with much fanfare or gusto- he tells it just the way Kaiya likes. With the always present dry intonation of his voice.

You think it’s Kaiya’s favorite sound in the world.

Kaiya points at the picture in the book and giggles, looking up at you for confirmation that you can see what she’s pointing at. You hold her hand and laugh with her too, melting at the way her smile holds your world in it.

After a few more pages and a few more laughs, Kaiya begins to grow tired. She rests her head against your arm, stifling a yawn. You rub her back to lull her into sleep but she tries to stay awake.

“Are you sleepy, Kaiya baby?” You coo, kissing her forehead.

She doesn’t reply, instead closing her eyes. It only takes a few more forehead kisses and back rubs for her to fall into deep sleep. You smile at Kaiya and look at Levi, offering him a small smile as well.

“Did you eat?” Levi asks, nudging your shoulder and gesturing for you to get up.

“No, I put it in the fridge. Not really hungry. Just want to be with you and Kaiya,” You murmur.

Levi gives you a long stare and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t be stupid. Go eat. I know you probably haven’t eaten since noon. Because of your shitty boss,” Levi says pointedly.

You sigh, heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and wash up before heading downstairs.

He doesn’t join you.

You eat quickly, somewhere halfway between enjoying and savoring all of the flavors and barely chewing so that you can go upstairs to talk to Levi. You wash the dishes in the sink quickly before double checking the locks and heading to your bedroom.

Levi’s in bed, reading a book and casts a look of acknowledgement to you. It feels odd, devoid of his usual affections. You know why. Because he’s upset with you.

You curl next to him, cupping his cheek to get him to look at you. Levi sighs heavily and casts his book on the nightstand.

“Your job is fuckin’ shitty,” Levi says without missing a beat, “Kaiya misses you. A lot.”

I miss you. A lot. The words hang in the air.

“I know, I’m sorry. I hate it,” You whisper, crumbling under his scorching gaze, “I didn’t want-”

“So? What are you gonna do about it?” Levi asks flatly, voice full of ice, “It’s your dream job, right?”

It unnerves you.

“Levi,” You say hollowly, “Don’t be like that-”

“Not bein’ like anything,” Levi says easily, “Your daughter fuckin’ misses her mama. This is the first time you’ve tucked her into bed properly in who knows how long- she asks for you all the time, always asking for her mama. And where is her mama? At work-”

“Levi,” You beg quietly, “Levi, stop-”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” Levi says hotly. You raise your eyebrows when you hear the emotion in his voice. He’s clearly been thinking this for quite some time.

“I’m sorry,” You plead, taking his hands in yours.

He pulls them away from you and your lips part in a surprised ‘o’. You’re quickly confronted with how much you’ve been hurting him.

“Levi, I’m gonna fix it. I swear- I’m gonna fix it, I’ve already talked to my boss a-and told him I can’t do this anymore-” You blubber, tears forming in your eyes.

“Can’t do what anymore?”

“The late nights-”

“Yeah, they’ll stop for what? A week? Then start back up again,” Levi scoffs coldly, “You promised you’d fix this. So fix this.”

“Levi- stop,” You mumble, “You’re being mean-”

You can’t help it- you start to cry harder, fat tears pool in your dark eyes and roll down your cheeks, as your bottom lip trembles. You let out a loud sob and turn away from him, not able to meet his eyes. Levi blinks at you, almost nervously. 

“Shit,” Levi says under his breath, “Shit-”

He wipes your tears from your cheeks and pulls you into his chest, his chin over your head. His arms are tight around you, heartbeat lulling you into calm. Neither of you say anything for a few minutes, despite the apology on the tip of his tongue.

Levi hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the cause of your tears. But he knows, even if his words were cruel, the problem still exists.

It takes a few minutes for you to breathe and for your sobs to reduce to sniffles. 

“I’m trying, baby,” You mumble, “I told him I need to scale back. But- he’s just so, fucking-“

And then you start to cry again. Levi wonders if there’s more to it than you’ve been saying. He wonders if there’s more of a problem than just late nights. Levi rubs your cheek with his thumb, giving you a few more minutes to gather your thoughts.

“Is something else going on?” Levi asks, most of the heat gone from his voice.

You’re quiet again, looking up at him. Trying to figure out how to allow the words to bubble up and leave your throat.

“What is it, angel?” He asks, cupping your chin for you to meet his eyes.

“He’s just so,” You sigh, “He’s so… mean. He talks down to me sometimes when we have group meetings- and I don’t even realize until the meeting’s been said and done. God, I hate what a boys club it is there. 

Oh, and his favorite is that one guy who always steals credit for the work that I do- and he said he’d dock my bonus if I didn’t start picking up the slack, but I am, I’m picking up everyone’s fuckin’ slack and all I’m good at doing is hurting you and hurting Kaiya- and I n-never wanted to be like that. 

I never wanted to be the person who put their career in front of their family. I should be able to have both, but not- not like this.” Your rant ends with a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

“Angel,” Levi breathes, kissing your forehead, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I could handle it,” You mutter honestly, “But I can’t. I need to get out, Levi.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Levi says, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You didn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I get it.”

“I should’ve helped you. Not yelled at you.”

“How could you know? I didn’t say anything,” You scoff, slipping your hand under his shirt to rub his chest. You missed him, and this.

“Thought we said no secrets,” Levi says lightly, “No more. We’ll figure it out.”

“‘M not working for most of next week. I need a break,” You say, pressing yourself closer to Levi.

“Good. We’ll figure it out, alright?” Levi says and squeezes your hand. He dips his head for a kiss, and you can taste the sweetness of his unsaid apology.

“You, me and Kaiya?” You ask with a small smile.

Levi nods, quelling your fears with a series of featherlight kisses that deepen quickly. His hands wander your ribcage, holding you close and warming you up from within. Silver eyes melt into your brown, and you’re reassured by his steady strength.

You’ll be okay. You, him and Kaiya. You’ll be okay.

tags: @simpingmaize

[tipsydipsydo]

➳ Rough Sex

➳ Size Kink!

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 860

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Rough Sex; Doggy Style; Size Kink; Big Dick! Joon; Finger-Sucking; Petnames; Degradation; Pussy-Slapping; Neck-Biting; Edging; slight Exhibitionism; kinda Filming/Watching Kink? (you'll understand it when you've read it xD); unprotected Sex (please stay safe!!)

A/N: Yes, I kept my promises and wrote another requested drabble for you guys! Also, @itscalledgayhoney I'm so, so, so sorry that I still didn't wrote your requested Smut (I will write it!! ...someday ^^°) but I thought this Drabble Request is very similar to yours so I thought you could like it as well. Send much Love!! 🤗💕

[Links]:

▪ BTS Smut Drabbles I My Writings

▪ Blog Navigation 

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

"Gosh Babe, I really wish you could see how your sweet tiny pussy is all stretched out by my fat cock... fuck, I love to see your gaping hole desperately clenching around nothing when I pull all the way out!", growls Namjoon from behind into your ear. His voice dropped three octaves lower since he shoved his dick deep down into you.

You're on all your fours on the bed while Namjoon is pounding into you roughly from behind, filling you out with the enormous girth of his cock up to the possible maximum. In the right angle, just like now, his engorged tip is brushing against the entrance of your cervix.

His beyond belief big dick let you see stars every time you two have sex No matter if it's sweet and gentle love making or a rough, almost primal fuck. Well, but when he's fucking you raw and roughly, then he's able to fuck your cute brain all out of your head, ruining you so good that you end up to be his stupid-fucked cockslut. Honestly? You love it.

Your whimpers and moans are muffled by his middle and ring finger, he stuffed them into your mouth to keep you at least a little more quiet. It's a blessing and at the same time a curse that you're a loud girl when it comes to sexual activities.

He's truly obsessed with your moans and screams. No matter if it's out of pleasure or pain, he loves them. But unfortunately your neighbors are not quite fond of it and before you're kicked out of your beloved apartement, he would rather muffle your noises with his fingers, a ball-gag or his own dick.

Maybe one of your dildos would make also a great job for it.

You mewl out in need and desperation when Namjoon's thrusts goes more slower and sloppier, wanting him to keep up with his hard and merciless pace. "No, no, no! Please, f-fuck, please Daddy, don't slow down! I-I want you to ruin me with your cock, please!", you whimper in a pathetic whiny voice. Your hips buck almost automatically up, trying to get him as deep as possible again. After that doesn't worked, you clench down on purpose onto his massive cock. Really, you want nothing more than to keep him into your pussy.

A deep, almost animalistic grunt leaves his throat, biting down harshly into your neck and giving you a hard slap on your clit. Out of surprise and pain you loose up so he took the opportunity to quickly pull out.

"Such a greedy bitch you are, sucking my cock into your slutty pussy hole and begging me to keep up with my hard fucking, hm? Oh my sweet Fuckdoll, I just got an Idea and I think you'll like it~ Je a good girl and give me a second to set everything up, yeah? Don't be a brat, I don't have the nerve to even punish you tonight."

You nod weakly, trying your best to stay in your exposed position without letting out some whines or rubbing your thighs together too obviously.

After a few minutes you hear Namjoon return to your shared bedroom. You let a confused hum out when he places your laptop in front of your face. The Video-Call App is opened on your screen and is "calling" Namjoon's Profile.

A strangled moan leaves your swollen lips when Namjoon picks the call up. You finally understand what's going on in the filthy mind of your handsome boyfriend and you absolutely love it!

"Come Princess, spread your thighs for Daddy a little more...", says Namjoon and push your thighs gently with his knee apart. On the screen in front of you, you see how your boyfriend switch from the front camera to the back camera. Within a second you are face-to-face with your own bare ass cheeks. You both enjoy the virtual sight but that's not what Namjoon wanted to show you. The focus of his camera drops lower.

A speechless long whine leaves your throat, now you're parting your legs even more. You're literally feeling how fucking wet you get from the picture you have on your laptop screen. Without intention you clench your dripping hole again and fuck, you never thought you could turn yourself so much on!

"Hm, Babygirl? Do you like what you see? Do you like watching your own pussy dripping for Daddy's big cock? Yes, you do. I knew my little whore would like that! Now reach back and pull your nice round ass cheeks apart for me, I want to show you how good I can stretch your sweet, delicate holr out. How good I can fill you up, fucking you open with my fat cock and make you gape of it~", growls Namjoon's deep voice and both of you moan loud out when you two watch how Namjoon enters your clenching hole.

Fuck the Neighbors and their complaints about your filthy noises!

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.