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#this is my favourite i laugh at this every single time
My entry fo #Ghostchallenge, for @glitterypirateduck
Prompt 9. Alternate Universe
I want to dedicate this to my sweet anon that sends me fantastic asks all the time, actually this was born from one of them, when they asked me if my OC and Simon would have fallen in love in a civvilian setting.
Disclaimer: I use 3rd person but I tried to not describe her appearance further than being curvy. The render at the end is my own self service because after all, it's my OC
Tuesdays and Fridays were Simon’s favourite days at his butcher’s.
And the very reason why those were his favourite days just opened the door, with her usual radiant smile on her face that made his day, no matter how shitty it had been, all the better.
‘‘Good evening’’ Like a clock, every Tuesday and Friday after 6pm, when the hustle of the day had died down. Most likely when she got off work too.
‘‘Good evening, luv. I was about to close’’ Simon turned around to face the door, wiping his hands after taking his gloves off.
‘‘You say that every single time I come’’ She rolled her eyes with a small huff, still smiling. That time she only wanted a couple steaks and chicken breast, which was quite quick and easy to prepare as they chatted about the weather and the news.
One of the reasons his shop was still open and popular in the neighbourhood was that he closed a couple hours later than others. Why wouldn’t he? He had no one waiting at home. But thanks to that, people that worked late hours could still shop before going home.
‘‘Is that the nice girl from the museum? Remember you have a bag for her!’’ From the back room, Mrs Riley’s voice could be heard, and Simon wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole.
But the way she blushed made it all better.
‘‘A bag for me? But I didn’t order anything’’
‘‘No, I… kept bones from this week. For your dogs’’ Christ, he sounded lame. Was he sweating? He hoped not. ‘‘Are you still volunteering at the animal shelter?’’
‘‘Oh!’’ The way her whole face lit up with her smile had him weak in the knees. Pretty little thing, all soft curves and sweet eyes that made him feel like wanting to drown in them. ‘‘You’re so kind, you shouldn’t have…’’
‘‘It’s nothing, beautiful’’ Simon saw with satisfaction how she blushed again. The first time he had called her a pet name without thinking, couple months ago, she had gone red like a damn strawberry, and it had been so cute that he couldn’t help but test new ones every time she came into the shop, until he settled for the ones that seemed to have more reaction.
‘‘Is it very heavy?’’ She looked concerned for a second, but he just laughed, shaking his head.
‘‘It is, but I didn’t pretend you to carry it all the way to your house, luv. I’ll bring it over as a delivery, if that’s ok’’
‘‘Ah… yes, it is ok, but…’’ Fucking hell, the way she chewed her lower lip. Thank God the counter was high enough to hide his lower half.
‘‘What is it, beautiful?’’
‘‘I… moved last month’’ She looked down, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘‘So I guess I should give you my new address?’’
‘‘That’d be useful’’ Simon nodded, opening the book where he wrote down his client’s addresses for delivery. After finding her surname, he wrote down the new address as she dictated it, still flustered. ‘‘All set then. When do you wish to schedule the delivery?’’
‘‘Oh, I… have no preference’’ She shrugged, with a small smile that tore at his heart. ‘‘If I’m not at work or at the shelter I’m always home’’
‘‘I’d prefer to be able to schedule it if you don’t mind, just in case…’’ Simon looked down at her over the counter, his mobile phone in hand. ‘‘Would it be best to call beforehand?’’
She nodded, like in a daze, and took her own phone out so they could exchange numbers.
‘‘Let’s hope the boyfriend won’t get angry when I call’’ Simon chuckled, saving her phone number as Her. She looked up from her own screen, her eyes wide.
‘‘There’s… no boyfriend’’
‘‘No?’’ He couldn’t believe it. Leaning over the counter, he cocked his head to one side. ‘‘Husband?’’
‘‘No’’ She was blushing again, but didn’t seem offended. He tried his luck once again.
‘‘Girlfriend or wife?’’
‘‘No’’ Now she laughed. With a quiet, shy giggle that she covered with one hand, and made his own smile widen.
‘‘Pretty sweet thing like you single, something is very wrong in this world’’
Oh, the way she blushed. He wondered if she’d look like that, every single morning while waking up in tangled sheets, bright eyes and messy hair, covered in sweat and kisses.
Trying to shake his unspeakable fantasies off, he placed her order on the counter, neatly wrapped and in a paper bag.
‘‘I’ll schedule the delivery for tomorrow evening after I close, is that ok?’’
‘‘Yes, of course, but…’’ She seemed to hesitate, chewing her lip again. And brushing her hair back again. He had noticed in the latest weeks that it was something she did often when flustered or nervous. ‘‘Tomorrow is Saturday… don’t you have… plans for the evening? After work?’’
‘‘Nah, just watching the game with my brother at home, most likely’’ Simon shrugged, oblivious to the way her shoulders fell a bit. ‘‘You know how it is. Beers at home and yelling at the goalie’’
‘‘Sure… well, I should get going before it gets darker’’ She smiled again, and waved at Simon’s mum when she came into view from the back room. ‘‘Bye, Mrs. Riley. Bye, Simon, thank you’’
‘‘Bye, sweetheart’’ Mrs. Riley smiled and waved, before turning to her youngest son the second the door closed. ‘‘I sure didn’t raise you to be this daft’’
‘‘What?’’ Simon looked at his mum, flabbergasted. What did he do now? ‘‘What did I do?’’
‘‘That new address of hers, is from the other side of town, you absolute idiot’’ The woman sighed, a bit dramatically, slapping her son’s arm. ‘‘She moved almost an hour away and still comes to buy meat from you. How oblivious can you be?’ Oh, and she asks you what are you doing Saturday night and you tell her you’re watching a match?? Oh, I’m going to disown you’’
Simon blinked, horrified. Fucking hell. Oh, Jesus Christ.
Mrs. Riley watched in amusement as her son bolted out of the door, shaking her head before starting to clean the counters.
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nemmet · 11 months
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question: how did you discover/get into scooby doo?
this is something i'm always so interested to hear, being that there are few people who don't have at least some small tie to the franchise. whether you would consider it one of your biggest current interests or it's just something nostalgic from your childhood, i'd love to know how you found scooby and what it means to you!
#for me it was my dad! he grew up with the original show and wanted to introduce it to me#so one day when i was maybe? seven?? he came home with the winter wonderdog dvd and we watched it that night#from there we watched every single scooby doo movie that had ever been made#and got the new ones as they came out in subsequent years!#watching a new scooby movie with my dad every weekend are honestly some of my favourite childhood memories#also what's new scooby doo had also started airing on one of the main cartoon channels here in the uk around 2010#so that's the show i watched the most consistently as a kid#velma was my original favourite of the gang because i looked a lot like her (big glasses/same haircut/etc.)#people would always compare me to her and it genuinely gave me a lot of confidence in my appearance that stays with me to this day#but fred was always my firm second favourite - he made me laugh the most of any character#and took on a deeper meaning to me in my adolescence when i realised i was autistic and strongly identified with his portrayals as such#the characters are probably what's kept me coming back all this time - they've been with me forever#and i love them individually + as a team who support each other with their unique skills and love for one another#but also the wacky adventures and general aesthetic#many people joke about the basic plot being the same every time but it makes my autistic brain happy#i love permanence and consistency baby!!!!!#and the different variations on that same formula always keep things fresh and fun#anyway ramble over#looking forward to hearing you guys' responses! :D#scooby doo#nem misc posts :]
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i-am-become-a-name · 6 months
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Prompt - December 4th. Good King Wenceslas.
The wind was howling a lament through the trees above them, but the small hollow they’d tucked themselves into was dry, even if Ace’s hands still ached from the cold. Camping, the Doctor had said. Bloody well camping. Well this was nothing like skiving off with her friends back home, campfires, charring sausages over the fire, being stupid with no adults around to be boring and sensible. 
“C’mon, Professor, can’t we go back yet?” 
“No,” he informed her sternly, and pointed the end of his brolly at the pitiful pile of sticks she had scrounged up, “fire, please. My nose is starting to get a chill.” 
“Yeah, well maybe you can use that to keep the wind off,” she sniped back, and rubbed the sticks together again. Pointlessly. Her hand strayed towards the inner pocket of the jacket, but a pointed cough sent it back down. That would’ve made one hell of a bonfire, she thought mulishly, even if it would’ve blown their shelter sky high. Best place for it, and they could head back to the TARDIS where there was- was there heating? There were blankets anyway, and a kettle for tea.
Something white landed on the sticks in front of her. Then another, and snow was coming thick and fast, and any hope of lighting a fire with these stupid sticks was over. 
“Professor,” she groused, drawing it out, and he relented, propping the brolly behind her and releasing the catch to protect them from the weather. 
“Go on then,” he said, nodding at her pocket, and cast his eyes to the overhanging log that protected them in lieu of the sky as she triumphantly pulled out a lighter and scraps of paper. Old receipts, notes they’d left for each other at various points, handy little firestarters. She screwed them up, tucking them under the sticks, but the Doctor’s hand was lightening fast, snatching a piece back from the brink of destruction to smooth out and tuck back into her pocket. Nope. Mysterious nonsense, she was Not Going to Ask. Survival skills, meet disposable Bic lighter. Hah! At least her hands were warm now, and the brolly was protecting them from the worst of the bitter wind.
“What was the plan next?” and the Doctor screwed up his face. “Campfire songs?” she suggested, grinning. “Stop me if you know this one.” She opened her mouth as if to sing, but was immediately silenced by- pastry? She bit down, and yeah, a croissant. Huh, with chocolate. 
In her distraction, the Doctor had conjured up a cake tray. Tiered and all, like they were having a posh afternoon tea in the middle of the woods in a snowstorm. He hadn’t even brought a bag! Bloody Time Lords. She crossed her eyes, and picked a piece of lint off the end of her croissant. That explained something, she guessed, and her eyes went blurry as she focused back on the Doctor, who was pulling out a teapot so comically out of size compared to his jacket pocket, spout already steaming. 
“An’ yoo ma’muse icks?” she complained through the pastry, ignoring the chiding look at her lack of manners. 
“I won’t always be around to play Prometheus for you, Ace,” and there was a brief old sadness to his voice, before he started patting his pockets, making tutting noises, before he pulled his hat off, and pulled two teacups out of the crown, wiping them out with the end of his scarf. 
He poured hers first, leaning around the side of her cheerily blazing fire to pass it over, and she supposed she could manage without milk or sugar. So long as he passed over one of the muffins off the stand too, and her hopeful eyes bore fruit as he sighed, passing it over balanced on top of his hat. 
There were no sausages, no being silly with her old mates, but when she stretched her legs out to press her boots against the side of the Doctor’s trousers, he didn’t shift away, and it wasn’t too long till dawn when they could get back to the TARDIS. Her jacket clinked reassuringly when she moved, and she hoped she’d be allowed to break camp. Camp would go flying, she promised, as a stray snowflake caught the back of her neck.
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wychelmie · 2 years
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sprinted my way through more mountain monsters and my favourite funny moments so far are as follows:
bill's cycling attire + jeff disappointedly saying "they're not assless"
buck somehow managing to steal a whole truck and being so excited that it worked
"by god if i have to, i'll walk up and kick satan right in the nuts"
buck getting fully knocked out by a door and the whole team swearing blind that it was the grassman's fault
"i'm plum bumfuzzled"
willy falling in a hole and jeff immediately swan diving in after him, leaving only his feet sticking up out of the hole
"what'd you learn?" "not to shake my ass when i'm doing a tree knock"
huckleberry disappearing, only to reappear later completely naked, holding a totem pole and screaming + the teams reaction
"we're hearing whistling sounds all round us - it's like a woman walking by a construction site!"
bill running out of camp in his underwear holding a gun in one hand and a knife in the other
"it's skunky tom!" *panicked screaming*
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squishied · 6 months
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i really have met the most incredible person. no one has ever made me feel this way. to feel so cared about and loved and listened to, every single day… for somebody to go out of their way, every single day, just for you, just because they care, just because they want you to feel better… to have so much faith in me, endlessly… i feel so lucky. i feel so honoured that i got to have him. anyone would be so, SO lucky to have him… but i got him. he chose me.
#he took me on a long drive today because i was very sad#he had a really tiring day at work; he has a very tough manual labour job and isn’t treated very kindly there#but i asked him to come over and he did#we sat in my room and i didn’t say much; i felt a little emotionally comatose; he came in and i’d been crying all day#he said i looked cute with the mascara under my eyes and he kissed my face and said silly stupid things to try and make me laugh#he asked if i wanted to spend the night at his and i would’ve if i didn’t have my cat to take care of#so we went on a drive and he let me play my favourite album; he always lets me pick the music#and we drove to the lookout and he pulled down the seats and we sat in the boot and talked#he listened to me talk about why i was so sad… it was really really deep heavy things#and then we just talked about everything and nothing for a long while. then he took me home#he’s so beautiful#he’s like a real life teddy bear. he’s so smart and so kind. hes so strong and beautifully protective of me… i feel so safe#he messaged me afterwards and told me how excited he is to see where our relationship goes… for more silly conversations and deep talks#sitting in the backseat of his car; drunken chaos and new adventures#he told me he wants me to meet his parents and he’s so excited for me to go to the taylor swift concert and he’ll watch every single video#i feel so happy and so lucky#anybody would be so lucky to have him#but i got him#he’s MY boyfriend. he picked me. over all the beautiful women he picked me#i couldn’t ask for a better partner. he’s so beautiful. he’s not perfect but at the same time he is#maybe he’s just perfect for me#puppietalk
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magicaldreamfox1 · 2 years
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some of the tags that really make giffing worth it
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boyfhee · 11 days
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✶ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY !
jealously looks good on them
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pairing enhypen x reader / fem reader in hoon's genre fluff warnings kissing in jake's, ignore the typos pleek notes happy reading ^^ requested
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HEESEUNG
you know he's the jealous type just three days after dating him. it's in a fun way— of course. despite being the jealous type he doesn't overdo it ( or at least tries not to. ) you're gushing about your favourite character from a show or a celebrity you like and he's sulking on the inside.
“byeon wooseok is hot but not hotter than me. right, darling?” he would ask the moment he catches you watching the edits of the actor on tiktok. with eyes fixed on you, his lips morph more and more into a pout when you take more than a few seconds to respond. “i can't believe this,”
you watch him sit on the far end of the couch, away from you, refusing to spare you a glance even though you know his attention is on you. “c’mon hee, are you jealous of an actor? he doesn't even know me,”
“well, good for me because with how pretty you are, he will definitely fall for you if he gets to know you,” he replies through a frown, eyeing you through his peripheral gaze, arms crossed. it only makes you laugh at how cute he can be sometimes.
“and i'm in love with you so it doesn't matter,” and he's back to normal, crawling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. you just have to remind him that every time jealousy gets the best of him, even though he already knows it; but he likes to hear you say it. 
JONGSEONG
jay thought it would be cute to ask you out on a little convenience store date until your neighbour's son crashes it. well, not literally since he only happened to be there at the store. however, despite all, being the person he is, he doesn't think much of it.
that is until that guy decides to follow you around throughout the time you two shop. even when you two make it to the counter, he's next to you, talking to you and you're responding nicely, considering he's your neighbour.
“um, we're dating,” he says with an awkward smile when that guy asks if you're single. and jay has always been patient but he grabs the shopping bags and your hand, and walks out of the store with the speed of light.
“you can let go of my hand,” you laugh at the look of pure jealousy on his face. it's not really obvious, but you can see it. you've known him long enough to know how he is when he's jealous.
“nope,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers with your own while you two are walking back to his place. “not until we're home,”
JAEYUN
he thinks he's being subtle about it but you don't miss the way he keeps scooting closer while you're texting a friend. he's not trying to peek, he's trying to get your attention.
“who even have you been texting for so long?” he asks after a few seconds, sitting lazily next to you on the bed with a faint pout residing on his lips.
“my friend. it's her birthday soon and she wants me to go shopping with her,” you don't even look up at him as you respond, smiling at your phone screen. he stares at you for a brief second before laying down with a slight whine.
“you're leaving me,” his words reach your ears and you turn your head towards him, brows furrowed. “i need to die,”
and the ‘j’ in jake stands for jealousy, it was never a secret. however, you didn't expect him to act like this right now. “jake, it's not that serious,”
“it’s four in the evening and not a single kiss today,” he sits up and says with a dramatic gasp— eyes wide open as if the situation is oh so scandalous. he sighs, putting a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “i'm afraid this is my last day. any last words?”
and you chuckle, putting your phone away before scooting closer to him and cupping his face, pressing his lips against his. “you're so dramatic,” 
SUNGHOON
sunghoon was all up for an evening stroll around the campus after classes but definitely didn't appreciate the transfer student from your class ruin this little date.
subtle glares and his fingers intertwined with yours, and yet that guy couldn't catch a hint. sunghoon knows he's hitting on you, perhaps you do too but knowing how nice you are, you can't be rude when all that guy is doing is complimenting you. so, he'll do it for you— sunghoon is going to eat him up.
"i know, right? my girlfriend is the prettiest girl on earth. and guess what? she's smart as hell— i love my girl. oh you want her number? well, she's mine," all in one breath, followed by an awkward silence and sunghoon's prideful smile. "now, me and my girl have somewhere to be so if you'll excuse us,"
he doesn't even give a chance for your classmate to speak, walking away while bringing you along with him. as funny at it is, you know he wasn't taking any of it.
"was all that necessary?" you ask, fingers still laced with his as you two walked down towards an ice cream parlour.
"what's necessary is for us to get married," he says it in the most casual way, getting you your favourite ice cream flavour and handing it too you. "too many guys looking at you. i can't take the risk,"
SUNOO
"i thought you're no longer in touch with him," sunoo says quietly when you bid your goodbyes to your friend, holding your hand as you two walk back to your class together.
"yeah, but we're classmates so it was unavoidable," you respond with a smile, looking up at him. it only takes you a fraction of the second to notice the troubles expression on his face, behind the smile. "what's wrong?"
your boyfriend shakes his head, the smile getting wider but it's only an attempt to throw you off the topic. "nothing,"
"sunoo," you stand in his way, hands on your waist, looking at him with a cheeky grin. it's not often you catch sunoo with such an expression. "are you jealous?"
"i'm not!" he quickly defends himself, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. however he sighs, giving up the very next second. "well, maybe a little. he's your ex after all,"
"he was my friend before we started dating," and you couldn't help but chortle at his actions, nodding as you get back to holding his hand, this time a bit more firmly than earlier. "besides, i have you now,"
"right," he couldn't help but smile at your words and pulls you a bit closer to him, speaking with a triumphant grin. "you're too good for him anyway,"
JUNGWON
jungwon has been watching you for fifteen minutes now, laying on the bed, eyes squinted at you. "do you remember you have a boyfriend?"
"of course, i do. why would i forget that?" you furrow your brows at his question, looking up at him briefly before looking back at your boyfriend's pet dog.
"i don't know, seems like you did," he sighs, getting off the bed and sitting next to you on the floor, looking at his pet dog. "i called you over to spend time with you. not to watch you play with maeumi,"
and you laugh, caressing maeumi in your lap while looking at your boyfriend with a teasing grin. "i can't believe you're jealous of your own dog,"
"and what if i am?"
"it's a bit silly," you nod, the smile never leaving your face. "it's cute," his eyes follow your actions as you lean down to plant a soft kiss on maeumi's head and then lifting him up slightly. "but can you really ignore this cutie?"
and that was the end of his patience. jungwon gets up, picking maeumi before putting him away in the living room. "yeah, he's going up for adoption,"
"jungwon!"
RIKI
"he's so ugly," riki comments bitterly as you walk out of your class, eyeing one of the classmates you've been talking to while he was waiting for you in the hallways. "what a creature,"
"creature?" you repeat his words in disbelief, even though it's not really unusual for him to say that. "riki, that's my classmate. he was giving me yesterday's notes,"
"yeah, he's still ugly," he shakes his head, scoffing, grabbing one of your hands while sliding the other in the pocket of his pants.
you simply laugh at his words as you both get downstairs, a few students passing by you two, rushing towards the school exit. "you look stupid when you're jealous,"
"jealous? me?" he scoffs yet again, a prideful grin on his face as he stops in his tracks, looking at you. "you have quite an imagination,"
"what i have is a jealous boyfriend who sucks at lying,"
and who even is he kidding, because both of you know he's the more jealous one between the two of you. about the lying part. . .he's not too sure. "well, at least i look better than him, don't i?"
you nod, tip toeing slightly to kiss his cheeks, still holding his hands in the process. "the best,"
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partywithponies · 7 days
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Doctor Who fandom gothic:
Everyone is angry. You do not know what about. Everyone is always angry. The reason is different every day. Your mutual threatens to blow up the entire BBC and then kill themself. You ask what they are angry about. They do not know.
"We love stories!" says Big Finish. They love stories so much. There must always be more stories. "We love stories!" they say. "Buy this complete series! You love stories! You must listen to all the stories!" You look. The full series costs every penny you own, but it must be done, for the love of stories. You refresh the page. There are ten more audios in the series now. In tears, you decide to start selling your internal organs, to afford more stories. You have to do this. You love stories.
A new episode just aired. You check twitter. "This is the best episode of television ever to air! Peak television! Nothing could ever top this! I worship at the altar of this episode! I am naming my firstborn child after this episode!" says one tweet. "This episode was worst the worst episode of television ever to air. I have been harmed physically by being forced to watch it. We need to kill the showrunner." says the next. You think they both have a point.
The Rani is coming. You know this to be true, because the fandom told you so. The fandom tells you this every few months. They are surely correct this time. You must be constantly vigilant, because The Rani could be anyone. That old lady is The Rani. The companion is The Rani. That baby is The Rani. You are The Rani.
"This is my favourite episode!" says your mutual. You look. It is a single fuzzy freezeframe, while muffled voices play faintly in the background. Your mutual beams. "Groundbreaking television!", they say.
There is a new meme in the fandom. It is a single line from an episode that aired 47 years ago. Everyone you know is quoting this line. Your favourite fanartist just posted fanart of the character speaking this line. Your favourite youtuber just posted a dance remix. You go to comicon. You are greeted by 100 cosplayers, all dressed as the character. They chant the line in unison. You have never been more confused in your life. You smile. You laugh. You join in.
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cheeseceli · 3 months
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When you have plushies
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Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reactions
Request: so if skz had a partner who sleeps / collects plushies??? maybe also add a little where the reader is a tad bit embarrassed of it?
Warnings: none
A/n: if you saw this when I posted it for the first time no you didn't!
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Bang Chan
Y'KNOW THAT LAUGH OF HIS
The one that's so adorable and it looks like a giggle while his eyes are like crescent moons
THAT ONE
It's the one he gives you while he tries to understand that somehow he is dating the most adorable human being in the whole world
He literally has no problem if you want to sleep with them, will reassure you when it comes to that
"Do you think I can take one of your plushies with me for the tour? It'd make me feel closer to you"
Lee Know
Of course he will tease you
That's like one of the things that are included in his boyfriend package: relentless teasing
He will stop immediately if he sees that you aren't feeling it though
Will take a picture of you cuddling your favourite teddy bear and set it as his phone's wallpaper
AND will buy you some plushies and put them in his dorm
So you can feel more comfortable even when you're away from your own collection
Will never admit but he cuddles with it when he misses you
"Dori was sleeping with the plushie I bought for you. I'm going to send you a pic"
Changbin
Now that he knows, there is nothing stopping him from buying you thousands of plushies
Your collection will double in less than a month if you let him (please let him)
Might even buy some matching ones so you guys can share something in common
But he'll feel a little betrayed if you don't cuddle him to sleep and instead hug the teddy bear
"Why are you cuddling a plushie when you have me right here?? Like, c'mon now!!"
Hyunjin
You know those things where you can make a teddy bear from scratch and then gift it to someone?
He would do that for you😭
Would probably gift you a personalised plushie in your first valentine's
But overall he finds it adorable
Laughs endearingly every time he sees you sleeping while cuddling one
But will not lose the opportunity to replace the plushie and hug you throughout the night
"Would you rather have a dog or a bear as a plushie? No specific reason"
Han
Wants to give names to some of them lmao
And finds you 200% cuter because of it
Like, he knew you were adorable but you always surpass his expectations somehow
And if you get embarrassed abou it he finds you even cuter
But will make sure you don't have a reason to be embarrassed
He will throw himself in the pile of plushies, feeling like he's in heaven and making sure you knows he likes this side of you as well
"This one looks just like you! Oh my God, it's literally you"
Felix
HE LOVES IT
And he would be so casual about it as well??
Like, you'd be kinda scared of his reaction but then he's just the kindest about this
Wants to know about their names and stories you might have about them
The kind of guy who'd stitch one of them if they need to get repaired (I love him btw)
Tries to win plushies for you in those claw machines
"Which one do you want? I'll win it for you"
Seungmin
Is kinda intimidated at first lmao
Like I can see him just standing still while an army of plushies stare at his soul 😭
After the initial shock though I think he'd find it cute
Especially if there is a plushie who kinda looks like him/his skzoo
If that's the case he'll just tease you (while finding it so endearing)
"You should name this one 'Minnie'"
"I'm not naming every single one of my plushies after you"
"Why not?"
I.N
I think he wouldn't react at first, but mostly because he doesn't know what to do
Will you get sad if he teases you? Will you get embarrassed if he says it's cute?
He ends up not saying anything lol
Acts like he sees a huge collection of plushies every day
Might give you some plushies as gifts after finding out
"I just bought a very cute teddy bear in Japan. I'm giving it to you once I come back home."
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
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nouearth · 5 months
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my favorite scent is you.
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bruce wayne x male reader.
summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).
wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.
notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.
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“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”
It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.
Just a little more, and you’ll break free.
It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.
“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”
“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”
“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”
Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”
“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 
“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”
“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”
“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.
“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.
“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”
“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”
“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 
“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 
“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.
You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 
He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.
“Let me take care of you now.”
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You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.
Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.
I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…
Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?
You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.
Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.
“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”
The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.
Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…
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The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 
As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.
Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.
Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.
After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.
“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.
White musk.
The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.
Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.
“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.
“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.
I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.
He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.
Again, as he throbbed.
And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 
Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.
The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).
His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.
“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.
He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.
Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”
Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.
What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.
Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.
I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.
He was close.
Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.
Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 
“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.
Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.
Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 
“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.
I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.
He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.
Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.
Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.
Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.
“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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avis-writeshq · 8 months
Text
platform ten – spencer reid
summary: two months after he embarrassingly got caught ogling at the pretty girl on the train, Spencer’s team begins to suspect something.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: friends to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).
warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!), reader wears lipgloss, excessive mentions of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favourite Gothic authors), not proof read
wc: 3.4k
part one: carriage six
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“So, I’ve been reading Poe’s works,” you begin, your headphones around your neck and you pull out ‘The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe’, flipping to ‘Annabel Lee’. 
Spencer watches as you flick to the page, his heart soaring at the sight of the annotations that litter the page. There are different colours and highlighters across the words and from what he could tell pink talked about language and that was the colour that stood out to him most. You bring the book closer so that he can read your annotations too and his heart stutters in his chest at the close proximity. He can smell the strawberry and honey shampoo in your hair and the heat rises up to his cheeks. It’s intoxicating. 
“I really don’t think the narrator is a crazy psychopath,” you say, glancing at him. “It just sounds like he’s really, seriously in love with her which just makes a bunch of people jealous.”
He watches the way you point to a certain line, ‘But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee.’ 
“Does that not sound like something you would say when you’re in love?” You ask, swooning a little. “It’s romantic, don’t you think? And their love is so brilliant and pure that the angels stole her away from him. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s kind of a picture of how amazing their love is.”
He nods along, his cheeks flushed because that’s what he thinks when he thinks of you. But he’ll never tell you that. How could he even dream of you feeling the same? The idea in itself is just so bizarre that he doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought. Not even when it’s late at night and he’s by himself, thinking through every single interaction you’ve had with him since he finally talked to you two months ago. 
“And I mean, think about it,” you continue, gesticulating with every word, eyes wide with excitement. “The last stanza. He’s still in love with her even after she’s passed away. How romantic is that?”
“Very romantic,” Spencer agrees, and he wonders if that’s how he looks when he rambles. “Alright, it’s definitely a love poem.”
He relishes in the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, the way you grin up at him and he wants to make you smile this way every day. His eyes wander to your lips and he swallows thickly. You’re wearing that lipgloss again, a cool berry tone that makes your lips shine and–
“Spencer? Are you okay?” 
He all but jolts out of his trance and he coughs awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. “Yes!” He squeaks, before clearing his throat and repeating the word. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”
He watches as an amused smile quirks at your lips as you ask, “are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he manages to croak, his ears red. 
He can’t even look at you. His eyes turn back to the book you’re holding, reading through the annotations you’ve made on the page for the nth time over. This is an example of one of the instances he doesn’t want to remember and prays that his stop would miraculously be next. 
“I’ve been reading The Tell-Tale Heart,” you say, bringing him out of his thoughts.
Spencer forces himself to maintain eye contact with you and he manages a small, “really?”
You laugh and nod. “Yep! It’s really good. Kinda creepy.”
“It is a little creepy,” he admits, his gaze flicking to your lips again. He’s kicking himself internally, asking, ‘who’s the creepy one now, weirdo?!’
He figures that you’re either incredibly gracious or incredibly used to it because you don’t mention the way his attention wavers. 
“You don’t seem okay.”
Or so he thought.
“What— um— what makes you say that?” He asks, clearing his throat.
You shoot him a smile. “You’re not going on about the text like you usually do.”
He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his brain short circuiting. He can imagine Derek snickering and Emily commenting her usual, ‘IQ of 187, slashed to 60’. 
“Spencer?” You look amused, a smile on his face and a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Are you—“
“I’m fine!” Spencer says quickly, ears burning. “I’m just— thinking? Yes, thinking.”
You laugh. “Dangerous pastime.”
“What?”
“I— never mind,” you shake your head, continuing to laugh. “But I do want to hear your thoughts on ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ at some point.”
“Totally!” He jolts, and he’s kicking himself internally for being so eager. “Yes. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
The train lurches to a stop and Spencer gets up from his seat. 
“Bye, Spencer,” you say, smiling brilliantly at him, and it takes every ounce of self control in him to not just grab your face and kiss you.
“Bye,” he says, saying your name, before getting off the train.
*** 
Spencer has been acting weird. That is the conclusion Derek has come to as he watches the youngest member of their team enter the bullpen with the widest grin on the planet for the fourth time that week. He watches as Spencer sits down at his desk, looking like a literal teenager, and gets down to work. He has his earphones plugged in, the kind you would get at a dollar store, or the complementary ones you get from airports that never fit your ears right and leave you with headaches because of the horrible audio quality. Derek supposes he’s just listening to Beethoven or Bach or another dead classical musician. But as he passes Spencer’s desk, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. Spencer is humming. No, not just humming. He’s muttering lyrics under his breath. Since when did classical music have lyrics?
“What the hell…?” Derek asks under his breath to no one in particular. 
“You talking about Reid?” Emily asks, an amused grin on her face. “He’s acting weird.”
“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” JJ seemingly appears out of nowhere, standing beside them with her arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. 
Rossi enters the bullpen, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting at his desk, blissfully unaware. “We talking about the kid?”
“He’s been acting weird all week,” Derek insists, his brows furrowing. “What do you think it is?”
“Maybe he won a chess tournament,” JJ says with a soft laugh. 
Emily rolls her eyes at the idea. “Please, Reid’s probably the winner of every single chess tournament in the state.”
“Maybe his mother is doing better?” Rossi suggests.
“Doesn’t explain why he’s listening to, I don’t know, not Mozart,” Derek points out.
There’s a silence that pulls over the group as they stare at the back of Reid’s head. It isn’t long before he turns around to face his coworkers, raising an eyebrow.
“… Why are you staring at me?” Spencer asks, giving them all pointed looks. 
“You’re acting weird,” Morgan says, cutting straight to the chase. “Care to share with the class?”
Spencer offers them all confused looks. “I’m… not acting weird? If anything, you guys are the ones acting weird.”
“Ohh, no, don’t turn this around on us.” Emily grins, walking over to him. “What’s going on?”
“What— guys, what happened to ‘no profiling each other’?” Spencer spluttered, shooting accusatory looks towards his coworkers.
“We’re just worried, that’s all,” JJ says with maternal sympathy, but Spencer can tell that she’s hiding a smile. 
He groans, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I’m fine guys. I’m not acting ‘weird’ or anything.”
“Who are you listening to, Reid?” Rossi asks quickly, nodding towards the ear phones. 
“What?” Spencer’s head snaps up, redness crawling up to his ears. 
Emily smirks. “Yeah Reid. Who are you listening to?”
“No one,” he answers, avoiding their gaze. “I’m uh— I’m going back to work.”
He quickly turns his chair around, busting himself with his files. His co-workers all exchange glances, mischievous grins on their faces. 
“You know, I could just ask Garcia to dig into your phone,” Derek says with a shrug. “Or you could tell us yourself.”
Spencer shoots him a light hearted glare. “You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You wouldn’t.”
***
Spencer thinks he’s going to die of mortification. He spent that entire week downloading all of the released songs by Taylor Swift, dutifully listening to each song and reporting back to you on his opinions. He has since come to a conclusion: Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience with other branches of music that involves lyrics, but he figures it’s pretty similar to poetry. Regardless, he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s in for a world of teasing and tasteful jabs towards his sudden shift in music taste.
He’s also been doing this thing called texting, and he even went as far as getting a new phone and email address just so that he could properly contact you. He’s been in contact with you for the past eight weeks, going as far as messaging and calling you during break times and hiding in the bathroom to have an ounce of privacy. He feels like a changed person, all because of a tiny handheld device that fits in his back pocket. And you. Mostly you. The worst thing about this entire situation is the fact that Morgan did in fact manage to convince Garcia to snoop into his phone. 
“Alright, Reid, quit hiding. Who’s the girl?” Derek demands, slapping a piece of paper onto Spencer’s desk. It’s a log of calls and downloads. In other words, it’s a log of all the times he’s called the same number and all the Taylor Swift songs he’s downloaded. 
“Girl? What— what girl?” Spencer asks, playing dumb and willing himself to look Derek in the eye. His mind is spinning. ‘Blink evenly. Maintain eye contact. Don’t stutter. Answer his questions evenly. Play dumb. There is no girl, there is no girl there is no—‘
“Reid? Reid? Spencer!” Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him out of his trance.
“Huh?” Spencer jolts, snapping out of his trance. “What?”
Derek snorts at his reaction. “Look, kid. This person calls your cell every day at 12:30, which just so happens to be in two minutes. So, either you tell me and I let you have your fun, or she calls you and she’ll be hearing my voice instead of yours.”
Spencer scoffs, holding his phone firmly in the palm of his hand. “There is no girl, Morgan.”
“Right.” 
“I’m serious!” Spencer says, his voice going up and octave and he cringes internally. Smooth. “There is no girl.”
“Totally believe you.”
He groans, wiping a hand over his face to calm himself down. Before he could respond, the phone in his hand begins to ring. A smirk tugs at Derek’s lips and he immediately lunges for the phone, eliciting a yelp from Spencer who leaps from his seat. 
“Morgan— Morgan no—“
“C’mon kid, it’ll be a lot easier if you just give in!”
“No! Nope, nope, Morgan I swear to-“
In seconds, Derek snatches Spencer’s phone out of his hand, a triumphant look on his face. He keeps Spencer at arm’s length as he picks up the phone.
“Hey Spence!” A voice rings through the phone.
“Sorry, sweetheart, not Spencer,” Derek responds, his voice smug.
“… that’s concerning,” The voice responds slowly, cautiously. “Who is this?”
Spencer grabs the phone out of Derek’s hand, running out of the bullpen as quickly as his long legs could carry him, flipping his coworker the finger before he leaves. 
“Hello?” He asks into the phone. “I’m so sorry, that was Derek, my co-worker.”
“Oh, the bald one!” You say quickly, recalling his name from the photos Spencer had shown you beforehand. “I thought it was like… a bad guy or something.”
He laughs softly into the phone, his cheeks warm and wearing a smile that could split his face in two. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but not a bad guy.”
He hears you chuckle from the other side of the line. “Yeah, he seems like a nice person. Your entire team sounds really cool.”
“Maybe you could meet them at some point,” Spencer says quietly, his heart thundering in his chest. “I mean, they kind of already know you exist.”
“That would be fun,” You muse, and he hears the soft ruffling of cling wrap in the background.
“Lunch?” 
He hears you hum in response, and he can’t help but chuckle. There’s a silence for a few seconds, and he assumes you were eating, before your voice picks up again.
“I’d love to meet your team at some point, Spence. They seem like really amazing people.” 
He can’t help but smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. They are. You’d love them, and I’m sure they’d love you just as much.”
Before long, lunch break is over and Spencer begrudgingly hangs up and returns to the bullpen, his team all wearing frustratingly smug faces. He rolls his eyes, not paying them any kind as he returns to his desk. He ignores the very blatant whistle Derek does in his direction and the snort Emily fails to hide.
“So…” JJ begins, dragging her words out. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”
Spencer chokes on air and bites his tongue, grimacing at the taste of blood. “I do not have a girlfriend.” It’s not a lie.
“But you want her to be,” Emily says, smirking. 
“No! Yes. I don’t know, maybe?” Spencer feels like a teenage boy being lectured by his parents. Not that he knows what that feels like.
“Alright, well, have you asked her on a date?” Derek asks as he raises an eyebrow.
Spencer coughs, reaching for his mug of stale coffee. That’s all he needs to do to answer Derek’s question, because in moments Derek is screaming in his ear. 
“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?!”
“We talk loads of times,” Spencer insists, hiding behind his disgustingly old coffee. “We just never… we’re just friends.”
Rossi bites back a chuckle. “Yes, because friends call each other every day during their lunch breaks.”
Spencer feels his face grow impossibly hotter and he chugs the last of his coffee. He cringes before turning his attention back to his files in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work.
“How did you meet her?” JJ asks, gentler this time. 
Spencer flushes and plays with his watch. “On the train.”
“That’s very you,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “She seems really nice, Spencer.”
He preens at the compliment, his mind drifting to your pretty hair and glossy lips. He sports a grin and he nods. “She’s really, really nice.”
*** 
Spencer sits next to you on the train as usual. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is combed to be a little neater, only for his efforts to be destroyed when a strong gust of wind hits his face the moment he left his apartment. He reminds himself to put a comb into his bag after work. You’re talking about another one of Poe’s works, this time ‘The Raven’, another love poem. Your eyes are bright with excitement as you go on and on about the writing style and whatever else. 
Spencer is far from religious but your existence alone is enough to have him thanking the heaven’s that he is alive. He can’t help but smile every time you do, his gaze perpetually on your lips. He feels a little guilty about it, about how he can’t even control himself when he’s around you but you’re just so beautiful that he can’t help himself. He feels even guiltier when he realises he hasn’t processed a word you’ve said. 
“... and that’s why I think Edgar Allen Poe is really just a huge softie who wants to be loved,” you finish, snapping the book closed. “What do you think, Doctor Genius?”
“Totally,” Spencer agrees quickly, almost biting his tongue. “Absolutely.”
You laugh and Spencer thinks he’s going to faint. 
“Where are you up to in your Taylor Swift project?” You ask teasingly, nudging his arm. If it were anyone else, Spencer would have grimaced and shrugged them off but you aren’t just ‘anyone’. You’re the most amazing person in the world. 
“I’m up to 1989 track 9, Wildest Dreams,” Spencer recites, pulling out his notebook from his inner jacket pocket. It’s a small leatherbound notebook that he’s been writing all his thoughts in regards to the Taylor Swift songs, all in chronological order. He’s actually quite proud of it as he flicks to the latest page. “I really like this one. I did some research and I found out that the bass sound in the background is actually her heartbeat. That’s pretty interesting.”
You almost scream in excitement, leaning closer to him to read his notes. “I love this song! It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song ever and it’s just so pretty, you know?”
He nods in agreement, his cheeks flushed at the close proximity and he finds that he can no longer feel his tongue. He should get that checked out. 
“It reminds me of you sometimes,” you say, completely unabashed. Spencer thinks you’re trying to kill him. 
“What?” He asks meekly, recalling every lyric from the song. 
You freeze, flustered and you pull away from him. Spencer frowns at the sudden space but he watches as you stammer and stumble over your words.
“I just meant– you know, it’s a good song! That’s all.” You laugh anxiously, fiddling with the book in your hand. “Never mind, just ignore me. Tell me more about what you like about the song.”
In an almost uncharacteristic bout of confidence, Spencer reaches out to take your hand in his. At first, he thought his head was going to explode. It felt heavy and light all at the same time and he was almost about to pull his hand away when you squeezed his fingers. Just like that, all doubts are gone. You’re smiling at him and Spencer knows that he would do absolutely anything to make sure to keep it there. 
When the train lurches to a stop at Quantico, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to move. He’s grinning ear-to-ear, intertwining your fingers with his. 
“Isn’t this your stop?” You ask gently, loosening your hold on his hand. 
He shrugs, holding onto your hand tighter. “I’m always early. I can be late for once.”
Besides, he thinks to himself, inching closer to you, this is so worth it.
Pride bubbles in his heart when he hears you laugh again and his smile grows impossibly wider. 
“We’re almost at my stop,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. “We should go out. You know, instead of just meeting on the train.”
Spencer nods immediately at the suggestion. “I’d like that. Are you free on Saturday?”
“I’m definitely free on Saturday,” you respond, squeezing his hand again. 
Spencer sits there with you until you make it to your stop. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and he feels happy, so goddamn happy, and he wonders how he’s lived without you. Before you get off the train, he calls your name. He relishes in the way you turn around, the confusion palpable in your eyes. 
“Yeah?”
He takes a step closer to you, his face in front of yours. His heartbeat is in his ears but at the same time he feels an incredibly ironic sense of calm. In seconds, he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss. He grins at you as you stumble out of the train dazed, waving goodbye. From the window he could see you press your cold hands to your cheeks before reaching for your phone. 
The smile that grows on his face when he sees your face light up his phone is embarrassing. It’s goofy and silly and he is so grateful that the carriage is empty. 
“Hello?” 
“You cannot–” your voice comes through the speaker and he grins again– “you cannot just kiss me randomly and then leave.”
“Technically the train left, not me,” Spencer says with a small laugh.
You’re quiet on the other end before replying, “We need a re-do on Saturday.”
Spencer has no complaints. 
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reblogs are always appreciated!
taglist: @sunshineyottie @cerulean-turtle @tortelliniturtle7 @bucxkysdoll @awitadecoca
strikethrough means couldn't be tagged
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egophiliac · 5 months
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Okay so I've been wanting to tell you that you're literally my favourite twst artist 😭🩷
So my question is, how do you manage to come up with these funny comics? CUZ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
(P.s: Lovin' the art style ✨)
oh geeze, thanks! 💚💚💚 I'm really glad people enjoy my stupid sense of humor; mostly I just draw things to make myself laugh, and if it makes other people laugh too, then bonus points! usually it's just one joke or mental image that gets stuck in my head (every time I saw Fellow spin his cane, all I could think about was him go-go-gadgeting away on it...) and in my quest to justify it, it picks up other jokes and bits along the way and usually doesn't even end up as the main focus anymore. entire narrative arcs have spun out just so I could use a single bad pun in a throwaway line. this is a terrible way to explain it but I'm not sure how else to put it into words!
and sometimes it's just "weird things my sister has said that I make fun of her for"
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
Text
My Mom Thinks You're Hot
pairing: beefy!bucky x singlemom!reader
summary: your son tries to set you up with an avenger in a grocery store
a/n: short drabble bc why not
masterlist
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Getting groceries might not be fun for most families but for you and your 6 year old son it's almost as fun as going to the park.
The store that you visit has small cart for kids which your son loves to push, making him feel like a big boy. It's absolutely adorable and you take a picture of him every time. You don't know how you got lucky that your son loves grocery shopping as most kids find it either boring or too stimulating which is completely normal.
"Mommy look it's Avengers cereal!"
As any other kid his age, he's obsessed with The Avengers.
"Yes it is and it's very cool but we already have cereal at home." his face falls and puts the cereal box back.
"Can we get it next time?"
"Of course honey." you chuckle when you see him do a little victory dance.
You were slowly but surely making your way through the grocery list, slowly because your son decided to stop in front every single Avengers food.
Now for your favourite.
Ice Cream.
You turn your head quickly when you hear your son squeal.
"MOMMY THE AVENGERS! CAPTAIN AMERICA! AND BUCKY!" He whisper yells
you look over to where he's pointing and it's true there stand Sam Willson and James Buchanan Barnes.
"Can we please say hi." he holds your hand and gives you his best puppy eyes. You give in since it's not every day you get to meet heroes.
"Hi! You're really cool!"
Two men look down at the 6 year old boy and smile.
"Hey champ,what's your name?" Captain America asks and crouches down to his eye level.
"That's such a cool name!"
"Thank you my mom chose it!" you immediately blush when both men look at you.
"Hi. We just wanted to say hi and uh thank you for saving the world and all that." you avoid looking at James Bucky Barnes because you might have a huge crush on him. Ever since you were a teen and studied for history you thought he was very handsome.
"All part of the job ma'am." Sam salutes you and you smile a little, he's the perfect Captain America.
"I have so many questions!"
"Honey, they are very busy we can't keep them all day. How about just one question for each of them? That's of course if you're okay with that." You look at two heroes,who reply with a nod
"Alright you heard your mom, what do you have."
He thinks so hard and finally asks.
"What's the name of your bird!?" Bucky bursts out laughing, that's not what he thought the boy would ask Sam. Your heart might have done a flip at the sound,you try to hide your face by looking at the floor.
"His name is Redwing."
"Well that's pretty boring why doesn't he have a cool name." At this the three of you laugh.
Sam looks mildly offended.
"What do you have for me?" Bucky asks and whatever he thought the boy would ask it certainly was not this.
"Mr Bucky sir - Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner? My mom thinks you're hot."
You immediately pull your son into you and cover his mouth. Bucky blushes deeply and so do you.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. We have to go right now." You're so embarrassed that you leave your full cart and go straight for the exit pulling your son by the arm.
"But he didn't answer the question." your son whines.
"We don't need to know that. That's a personal question you don't ask people!"
"Uh I don't mind answering that question." Buckys voice says and you stop in your tracks, you turn around but still avoid the eye contact.
"Really you don't have to!"
"I want to. And I'd like to ask a personal question too if that's okay with you of course?"
Your knees almost give out when you manage to make eye contact.
"No, I do not have a significant other. And I don't know how this works at this day and age, but I'd like to ask for your number,doll."
_____________________________________
some years later
"Thank you for coming guest's that I know and don't know. My mom is getting married to my dad! You should all be thanking me because I made that happen!"
You look at your now husband and smile.
Maybe it's not the way you thought you'd meet the love of your life but sure is a story your guests and son find very entertaining.
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justporo · 7 months
Text
I love to imagine that after everything is done, the city is saved, Astarion and Tav bought their house and settled down: they just stay in bed for a week.
Even though it might not be more than a mattress on the ground and there is barely anything else in the house.
Exhaustion just hits and they just want to feel cozy and comfortable 100% of the time, only going out to get some food for Tav and wine for them both. And they mostly just cozy up naked or at maximum wearing underwear or Tav just wears Astarion's shirt.
They just have sex whenever desire hits them because now they just can and for the moment there are no distractions, no worries, no fear. They can just hardcore hit the honeymoon phase where they can barely keep their hands off each other and a single look can be enough to start blazing flames.
But they also just lay there, cuddle, relax, talk - maybe Tav starts doing somersaults on the mattress because they were never able to do that as a kid and almost whack Astarion in the face while giggling like mad.
And they talk lots. Of course they did that before but it's different now because they have something they weren't sure of before: a future. And they plan their future, talk through all kinds of differents possible versions - even the most ridiculous ones. They talk about the most mundane things, like what colour curtains they want or what kind of wine glasses they'd like, what way bread should be stored and - "I have nerver ONCE in my life thought about duvet covers, Astarion - not even once." "Well, a nice point to start then, isn't it, my heart? Because silk looks amazing but I'm pretty sure you would like linen more..."
Or they joke until they're crying laughing, half hanging off the mattress or on each other and they can't breathe anymore because they both have never felt this light and safe in their life.
Maybe Astarion tries to teach Tav something: like how to let a coin wander over your knuckles or another language or he just talks about something like his favourite artworks and the history behind it and promises Tav to take them to a museum and show them more.
And even after the initial phase is over and they actually decide it's time to spend some time out of bed and finally get a real furniture, it becomes their little safe haven. The place where they always can be absolutely intimate in every kind of way and can be safe and comfortable - and at home.
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pseudowho · 4 months
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Thinking about...
...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.
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Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"
Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.
Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."
Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"
Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."
Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"
Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.
Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."
Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"
When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"
Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"
Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"
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myfictionaldreams · 7 months
Text
Day 17: Hate Sex - Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader
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Summary: You were in Slytherin, it was in your blood to hate Sirius Orion Black, so why can’t you stop thinking about his stupid, handsome face?
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, hate sex, arguing, mocking, teasing, sexual tension, enemies with benefits, alcohol, size difference, praise kink, choking, dom/sub, slight degrading, rough sex, edging,
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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“Fuck my life; why the hell is he in here?” you exclaim as Sirius Black saunters into the library with all the swagger and arrogance of someone ready to cause a riot.
“Here we go”, another student mutters under their breath from across the room. You weren’t sure who, but you glared in the general direction of whoever had said it.
It was infamous that you absolutely loathed Sirius, and he, in return, hated you with just as much passion. You were natural enemies; he was in prideful Gryffindor, and you a cunning Slytherin, but the hatred delved deeper than just this. You thought he was a pompous, arrogant prick who bullied Slytherins - mostly you - and seemed to always get away with it every single time. He had directed his pranks towards you more times than you’d care to count. You were constantly on high alert, paranoid that another attack was coming from the Gryffindors. Seeing any shade of red filled your heart with dread every single day.
Today, you were having a relatively good morning, mostly spent revising in the library with a towering pile of books beside you. It was a warm summer’s day, so most students were outside, which was always your favourite time to study, not having to fight with the others for specific books or for an area of the library to work.
Another reason you preferred to stay in the castle was that the Marauders were likelier to be out, causing havoc where the crowds were formed. You cursed loudly at seeing them in the library, instantly ruining your calm day.
“Well, well, look what dirt turned up in the library. I’m surprised you even know how to read, Sunshine”, Sirius taunts as he immediately struts over to your table, picking up one of the books in your pile and idly flicking through it whilst leaning his weight against the table.
You sigh heavily through your nose at the nickname, loathing it more than any other pet name that he decided to call you, mainly as it originated from a prank in your first year where he’d stained your hair bright luminous yellow and thus, Sunshine was his favourite taunt. “Please fuck off, I’m only going to warn you the once Black, and give me the book back!”
“Why would I leave? These books all seem highly intelligent for your silly little mind. Maybe I should help read to you, see here, this is what they call the ‘title’, it means what the book is called-”
“Sirius, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t shut the fuck up-”
“What’s going on here?” the librarian rushes over, interrupting your seething threat with her stern face, glancing between you and Sirius, who was grinning, ready to woo the teacher.
“Oh, nothing at all, Professor. I was just asking if I could borrow this book when she started to shout at me”, Sirius explained with surprisingly good acting skills that had your eyes widening and mouth gaping open with anger.
Before you could even begin to justify Sirius’ lies, the librarian turned to you, her lips pursed and eyes sharp. “Please leave the library. I won’t have you causing a commotion like this”.
She leaves before you can stand up for yourself, your cheeks flooding with heat as your blood boils with anger. Especially as your enemy begins to laugh tauntingly, head tipping back as he obnoxiously laughs, throwing the book back onto your pile.
“Thank god for that; I might be able to concentrate without a slithering snake like you here”.
You stand abruptly, wand in your shaking hand as you rage angrily, “I fucking hate you!”
He steps closer, invading your personal space as he smirks down at you, “The feeling is mutual, Sunshine. Now, do you want me to help you pack up your crap, or can you manage that all by yourself?”
Before you can answer, you’re both interrupted by a calm voice, “Sirius, leave her alone, will you?” Remus tried to convince his friend to step away. With Sirius distracted, you start roughly shoving your items into your school bag before turning back to them both, especially Sirius.
“I hope you choke”. With one last glare, you purposefully bashed your shoulder into Sirius, knocking his balance slightly as you stormed off.
However, as you passed a couple of Hufflepuffs, you overheard one whispering to another, “They probably just need to fuck, and they’d get over this stupid tension”.
“What the fuck did you just say?!” you demand, stopping in front of them, looking between them as their heads dropped to hide their faces. “That’s disgusting. How dare you even say something like that-” you begin to chastise, your wand returning to your hand as a reflex to defend yourself.
“Excuse me!” the Librarian returns to your side, which only makes you more frustrated as you’re stopped from doing what you really want.
“I’M LEAVING!” you scream, gathering the attention of everyone; you promptly scowl at them all, specifically Sirius, who you expected to see grinning at you getting into trouble, but instead, he was only a step behind you with an odd, wondering expression on his face.
You don’t stay to ponder what he was looking at as you grip your bag closer to your body and storm off. How could someone even think something so disgusting!? You and Sirius fucking?! Absolutely not. You’d rather walk around Hogwarts naked than go anywhere near Sirius fucking Black.
A few hours later, you’d found your friend lounging beside the lake, where you promptly joined her with a huff. “Oh no, what did Sirius do now?” she says, knowing your sour mood could only be caused by one person.
You explain with increasing agitation, “And then, you’ll never guess what some Hufflepuffs said! They said that me and Sirius Black,” You shiver for emphasis, “Need to shag, and we’d stop arguing! I mean, can you believe it? That’s disgusting; I can’t think of anything worse!” You’d expected your friend to look disgusted, just like how you felt, but instead, she raised one eyebrow with an unphased expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, I mean… He’s not that bad to look at, and from what I’ve heard, he’s very much a people-pleaser in the bedroom. Anyway, you know what they say,  if you’re being teased by someone it’s most likely because they have a crush on them and I must say… You’re both always teasing each other”.
Even though your friend grins and mocks you, you still find it offensive that she would even say such a thing. “Are you kissing me? Sirius Black is a self-centred, arrogant asshole who only thinks about himself. There is no way I would ever go anywhere near him!”
“Yeah, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Even though he’s a Gryffindor, he's from the Black lineage, with his long hair, dreamy eyes, and stunning smile. There’s also the fact that he plays quidditch, so I bet those thighs of his are scrummy”.
Shaking your head at her words, you sigh, “That doesn't matter, he’s still-”
“So you admit it?” She cuts you off with a knowing smile.
“Admit what?” you question innocently.
“That you think he’s handsome”, she states confidently with a shit-eating grin.
“I’m not saying that, I mean- Uh… I don’t know!” You throw your hands into the air, exacerbated, “I guess he’s handsome, but that doesn’t change what an asshole he is”.
Your friend shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe this answers all the tension. The two of you need to fuck, and maybe all the arguments will stop”.
“If you ever say that again, I promise I’ll curse you. Right, I’m changing the subject. I don’t want to think about him anymore. Are you still going to the party later in the Ravenclaw's common room?”
“Definitely! I can’t wait. Are you going?”
“Yes! I need a drink after today”.
As the moon came out to play, so did all of the older students throughout Hogwarts, as it seemed everyone was going to the party. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you sighed in frustration as you couldn’t style your hair correctly, too distracted thinking about that good-for-nothing, long-haired, handsome idiot.
There was that word again. Handsome. ‘Was he handsome?’ you thought to yourself. Of course, he was, with his grey sparkling eyes, he was one of the tallest in the year, lean from all of his quidditch playing, and his hair was always clean and effortlessly styled, and his clothes were always smart and expensive looking, the only part of him that you could tell was from his pure-blood status.
You hated that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Undoubtedly, you hated him, but would it be the worst to shag him? You shivered at the thought, internally demanding that the idea needed to leave your mind immediately, ignoring the pulsing between your legs as an image flashed into your head of his face between your legs.
You shouted in frustration, giving up with your hair and deciding that it would have to do. At least your dress was beautiful, a Slytherin-green floor-length gown with silky smooth material accentuating your body and a long slit up the right side revealing your thigh. It was lavish and probably over the top for a common room party, but it was so rare that you could dress up, so you seized the opportunity. You’d applied a generous amount of make-up and silver high heels to match the dress, adding a couple of inches to your height.
The problematic part was sneaking up to the Ravenclaw common room, but thankfully, there was a system of students on the watch to lead the way there. Once inside, you poured yourself a drink of whatever was in the cauldron and found a couple of your friends already there.
Ten glorious minutes of happiness passed before it all came crashing down around you as James Potter shouted, “The party has arrived!” Not only him but the other Gryffindors had entered, making you roll your eyes and drink a hefty glug of the alcohol in your cup, savouring the burn as it rushed down your throat.
You couldn’t see him immediately, and you hate that you searched the crowd looking for him; you pretended that it was because you wanted to be prepared if he walked over to you and no other reasons whatsoever. There he was, standing with his back to you as he poured his drink with Remus.
‘Fuck’, you cursed to yourself, quickly looking away as your cheeks warmed. Why did he have to look so good? It seemed his surname was his favourite colour today as he wore all-black, well-worn combat boots paired with baggy black jeans and a tight t-shirt that seemed to stretch over the well-toned muscles of his arms and shoulders. It wasn’t just this that had your thighs clenching together to try and relieve some building tension. Still, for once, he’d decided to tie his hair up in a loose bun, some strays of hair already loosening, but for some reason, that only made him more attractive, and did he always have an earring?
You finished the rest of your drink as you realised just how much attention you gave Sirius. You need to get him out of your head, so dancing with your friends would be the best distraction for now, but you fully anticipated that he would come over and ruin your night sometime soon.
However, Sirius stayed on the other side of the party, which even your friends commented was odd, considering he always loved making your life miserable. You continued to shrug it off, saying you were having a great time because of it; however, your eyes wandered over to him occasionally, and it seemed he always had the same idea as you would catch each other's eye and then quickly look away embarrassed.
The night continued, the music increasing in volume, and now that you weren’t worried about Sirius interrupting, you slowed down with the alcohol, not wanting a hangover in the morning.
“SOMEONE SNITCHED TO FILCH, HE’S GETTING THE PROFESSORS! EVERYONE RUN!” A second later, the entire party was shoving and pushing each other to get out of the door, running in different directions.
Some teachers were already in the corridors, catching students, giving them detentions and taking away house points. You followed a small crowd, struggling to keep up with your heels, which you now severely regretted; however, it was a small blessing when Professor McGonagall caught the group at the end of the corridor, so you quickly turned down a deserted corridor, breathing heavily and beginning to sweat from the exercise and fear.
Just as you turned down a corridor dimly lit by fires on the wall, someone from behind grabbed your arm, forcefully pulling you in another direction. Before you can comprehend what is happening, you’re engulfed in darkness, and a broad hand is shoved over your mouth as you’re pushed against the door to the store cupboard you were just pulled into.
“Shhh, someone was behind us, " Sirius whispered from the darkness; even though you couldn’t see him, you knew his face was in front of yours because you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
Your instinct was to try and shove him off, but then there were echoing footsteps in the corridor outside. You both freeze, not even daring to breathe in case you’re caught. Both of you listened intently until there was only silence on the other side of the door as you slammed your elbow into his stomach.
His hand drops from your mouth, allowing you to whisper, “Get the fuck off me, don’t ever touch me again”.
Now that you had a moment to calm down, as he moved back into a space, you could see a slither of him from the gap around the door that allowed the light to seep in. Sirius chuckles lowly, rubbing his stomach from where you’d elbowed him. The deep laugh seemed to affect you straight between the legs as, for some reason, you found the noise mildly erotic.
“Why? You never know; you might like it when I touch you”, Sirius taunted, his voice soft and yet husky at the same time.
Your entire body seemed to buzz with anticipation and excitement at his words because there was no way Sirius Black had just flirted with you in some capacity.
“Shut up”, you say bashfully, folding your arms over your middle.
In the crack of light seeping in, Sirius' head tilted to the side, “What, no comeback, oh my witty little snake, have you lost your tongue?”
It seemed you had no air left in your body at his words, but you forced yourself to move away from the door, turning with the intention of leaving. However, he hears something you don’t as he’s pushing you flush against the door; even with your heels, he’s towering over you.
Before you could question what he was doing, he rested his index finger across your lips and whispered into your ear, “There’s someone outside the door”.
You can’t hear that, though, as there’s only the pounding of your heart rattling in your ears with how close he is to you. He was inhumanly warm, and this close, you could smell his addicting aftershave that reminded you of citrus and oak, but lingering in the background was vanilla from his shampoo as a couple of strands of his hair fell into your face. In this position, you couldn’t see him; even as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you had to rely on your other senses. 
You swallow audibly, causing your lips to press harder against his finger until the cool metal of his ring is indented into your chin. His breath is just as warm as his chest against yours, and this close, you could smell that he’d been drinking fire whiskey.
The pressure on your lips lightens as whoever is inspecting the corridor disappears again. Sirius doesn’t remove himself, though; instead, he allows his finger to do its exploration in the darkness, skimming across your cheek, over the shell of your ear, which causes you to shiver and your nipples to harden beneath the dress however the fabric was so thin that Sirius could feel them against his chest.
His finger continues to move down your jaw until it is at the point of your chin, pushing it up so you're forced to tip your head back further against the door.
“Sirius”, you whisper in a pleading tone, and he moves, fast and brutal as his mouth connects with yours. The kiss was fiery, full of passion and need. The hand under your chin desperately moves into your hair to hold your head in place while the other grips your hip, pulling your body closer to his. Your hands were just as grabby as one reached for his shirt, feeling the hard muscle beneath, and another moved to his jaw, feeling the softness of his recently shaved face.
You both moved as one, tilting your heads to the side to deepen the kiss further, mouths opening to allow the exploration of your tongues, tasting and wanting more. You weren’t thinking clearly, and neither was he but damn with the consequences.
Sirius bit into your bottom lip gently, tugging it back until it was snapping back to normal, but he didn’t stop there as his mouth began to move down your throat as he moved your head back. Open mouth, hot kisses were pushed into your skin until your toes curled in your high-heeled shoes.
You needed more of him, all of him, feeling so pathetically desperate that sweet little whines kept spilling from your lips as he sucked just below your ear like he knew that was your special spot.
Reaching behind his head, you roughly pulled the hairband out of his hair so, at long last, you could run your fingers through his soft locks. Sirius seemed to enjoy the touch as his hips thrust into yours, and you could feel the evidence of his arousal, rock hard in his jeans. Your arousal was currently ruining your underwear, clit throbbing and pussy begging to be touched in some way.
This could be a sign to stop and reason that this was your enemy. It had been since day one at Hogwarts, and now you’re ready to rip each other's clothes off.
As Sirius’ mouth moved lower, teeth scraping over your collar bones, you decided to be brave and lift your right leg, wrapping it around his hip to hold him closer. Sirius instantly gripped your thigh, groaning to himself when he was met with bare skin as he’d forgotten this was the side with the slit in the material.
“This god-damns dress”, he praised against your skin, which made you laugh lightly at how desperate he sounded. The heat of his palm against your naked thigh only made you want to feel him closer as he kissed you again. Higher and higher, his hand creepy, gripping your thigh until he pushed the silky material further up your body until you could feel your underwear was on show. This only encouraged you to pull his hips closer with your heel until his jean-covered cock was pressing against your panty-covered cunt.
Sirius shuddered, his hands tightening on your thigh and in your hair, as his tongue devoured your mouth, capturing every little moan you released as his hips thrust forward. It was your turn to tremble as the roughness of his jeans was felt through your thin underwear, nudging your clit and causing more moisture to gather in your underwear.
Everywhere felt like it was burning: your skin, core, and head. Everywhere that Sirius touched left a scolding mark as you couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t fathom waiting a moment longer.
Pulling your face away from his, with a harsh pull on his hair to snap his head back, you roughly demanded, “Just fuck me already, Sirius”.
He grinned in the darkness as he rutted his hips harder against yours, knowing what you truly wanted. Sirius’ mouth returned to your through as he darkly said, “Say please”.
It was an effort not to roll your eyes, but you did huff as you, in turn, pressed your pussy against his crotch. “I’m not saying-”
Any sassy remark you were thinking of saying was cut off by the giant hand now wrapped around your throat, not hard enough that you couldn’t breathe but enough to draw your attention as his mouth hovered over yours. You could feel from the shape of his lips that he was smirking as he repeated with more emphasis and slowing of the words, “Say. Please”.
Your mouth dried of any saliva at the tone of his voice, instantly falling into submission as you quietly asked, “Please fuck me, Sirius”.
“Good girl”, he praises against your lips, making your knees buckle slightly, having never been praised like this before.
A hand wrapped around your ankle as he moved it back to the floor, and suddenly, you were holding onto the door as his body dropped to his knees, and you didn’t realise until now just how much you were relying on his body to keep you upright.
Sirius’ hands were underneath your dress, grasping the edges of your underwear and sliding them down your thighs. As you stepped out of them, he moved your dress back again, your bare pussy on display to him, and even though it was too dark for him to see, you could still feel the warmth of the flush on your face.
“We haven’t got time for that, just fuck me already”, you snapped at him. Of course, you would love for your earlier thought of his face between your legs to be a reality, but right now, you needed his cock inside you before you combusted on the spot.
Thankfully, Sirius didn’t argue or get you to beg for his cock any more as he stood back up, towering over you again as the rustle of his belt being undone was like music to your ears. “Always so fucking demanding”, he scolded light-heartedly under his breath.
Reaching for his waist in the darkness, you were planning on helping him undo his jeans to free his cock, and you wanted to feel what you were dealing with. Like every other time you’d known him, Sirius had other plans.
Your hands were pushed away as he grabbed your hips instead, but only so that he could turn you around. Your face was unglamourlessly shoved against the wooden door as Sirius rushed to gather the material of your dress until it was bunched around your waist. Clinging onto what he had planned, you pushed your arse out from him and were greeted with the pleasant sensation of something hot and hard against your cheeks.
“Spit”, Sirius demanded into your ear as he pressed his fingers into your chin. It felt filthy and slightly degrading to spit into his hand, but as you could hear him wiping the slickness onto his cock, you didn’t care anymore. In fact, it only added more eroticism to your thoughts.
Neither of you said a word as he adjusted the height of his hips, pressing into your arse cheeks to spread them slightly as suddenly something knocked against your hole. Sirius helped to guide his cock as he slid it into your pussy, your walls burning from the stretch of the sheer size of him. 
“Fuck! You could have warned me you’re so big!” you chastised him. Inch after inch opened you up wider until his hips were flush with yours, and his hand rested back in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder.
“Sorry, Sunshine”, he chuckled, kissing your cheek with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. You couldn’t help but hear that stupid nickname in his sultry deep voice, and with his entire dick pressed into your cunt, you couldn’t help but squeeze him tighter. Sirius ground his hips in harder, smiling against your face, “I fucking knew you liked it when I called you that”.
You wanted to retort back to him, hating when he had the upper hand, but as he began to withdraw his cock, any coherent thought disappeared from your mind entirely. As he pushed back in, you couldn’t help but rise to your tiptoes, following the lead of his body fucking into you.
Sirius made sure you were accustomed to his size before beginning to properly fuck you. All the tension, the bullying back and forth, the teasing and times of losing your mind at the idiot that was Sirius Black had all been worth it as he fucked you unlike anyone before. He was toweringly tall when you were face to face, but when his chest brushed over your back, you felt much smaller as he seemed to crowd around you everywhere.
He breathed heavily into your ear, occasionally biting your lobe or sloppily kissing the junction between your shoulder and neck. However, it was the pounding of his cock that had you completely and utterly at his mercy. His strokes were deep and long, his entire length disappearing into your sopping-wet hole. It felt so unbelievably good that you didn’t even care that you were near enough to scream out your moans for anyone in the corridor to hear.
Your hand reached behind your head to find him, your fingers slipping into his hair again to hold them. Harder and harder, he pushed the two of you into the door; it was a surprise that the barricade didn’t break with the force he was putting into fucking you.
Then you felt the deep coiling in your core, like everything inside of you was tightening, all pleasure amplifying as your orgasm teetered on the very edge. It seemed Sirius could feel this too, with how tightly your spongey walls were suffocating him as he grunted louder into your neck.
“Wait, don’t cum yet; I’m so close, don’t cum”, you begged, not entirely wanting it to end just yet. Sirius gasped, his mouth opening wide as his eyes did the opposite as they clenched shut as he concentrated on fucking you and not orgasming.
It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs as you quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck- You can cum, please cum with me”. Sirius’ legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words.
As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him, Sirius released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both slumped against the door, catching your breath for a moment, the tiny store cupboard now becoming suffocating.
The after-orgasm guilt hit you like a tonne. What had you done? You’d just fucked your worst enemy, and his cock was still inside you.
You couldn’t help yourself; you needed to ruin the moment, need to get free and cry into your pillow over what an idiot you are, so with hate and distaste, you turned your head further over your shoulder. “This changes nothing between us”.
Sirius took a moment to process the words before his mouth was hovering over your ear, his breath tickling your skin, “Not at all, Sunshine, I still hate you”.
Good, you think. That’s what you’d hoped because you still hated him too… right?
With a grunt, you elbow his stomach again but with less force, just needing him to back away from you. Thankfully he did without any arguments, his softening cock slipping out of you and globs of his cum following this.
With trembling knees, you shoved your dress back down. Reaching around in the darkness, you found the door handle and turned, neither of you saying another word as you walked out of the door, hair a mess, make-up running down your cheeks, dress creased, lips swollen and cum still dripping down your thighs.
You walk with as much confidence as possible, keeping your head high as you try not to turn around and see if he is watching you walk away. It was only as you turned the corner that you realised you’d left your underwear in there with him; cursing to yourself, you turned back, not wanting another student or someone to find them. You weren’t sure if you were happy or sad when you returned to the cupboard to find Sirius gone, but not only that, but your underwear was too.
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