#Except from you Ness

[elainsgirl]

honestly gwynriels are some of the rudest people i’ve seen on tumblr, tiktok and instagram. they will push their way into elriel spaces and shove their theories down your throat as if it’s facts. and not to mention the recent thing with that instagram post where it seemed like elriel emojis were either the top comment or somehow an easter egg for the next book. their response? spamming the comments with “gwynriel” emojis. like… how are you so insecure about your ship that you feel the need to overwhelm the other ship’s comments under a singular post? while i can’t say for sure — because i straight up refuse to properly read gwynriel posts anymore as i’ve found their posts to be either repetitive (probably because they have 🤏 this much canon content to work with), nonsensical or downright completely making stuff up to support their theories — i don’t think i’ve ever seen elriels push themselves into gwynriel spaces and straight up attack them (thinking back on when i was new to the fandom and was exposed to all the different ships). of course there are always bad apples, but they seem to be rare amongst elriels. idk maybe i’ve just created a nice space for myself and somehow avoided them

There’s bad apples in every side of the fandom. I’ve seen elriels be mean and degrading as well as antis - but In my personal opinion or experience, toxic elriel stans are just…trolls. Whereas with Gwynriel and Elucien - yes some of them are trolls but their main toxicity comes from their arguements which are popular and widely accepted. Whereas with elriel - we genuinely don’t have a toxic elriel arguement that is supported by so many.

As an example:

A popular Elucien take is that Lucien deserves to be happy therefore Elain needs to accept the bond so Lucien can get his hea - That take is toxic and a bit degrading towards Elain however it is an acceptable thing to say with the majority of eluciens. 8/10 ask an elucien why they ship them and they’ll give you the above reason.

With elriel - I cannot think of a toxic take that is widely accepted by elriels. Not to say Elriels haven’t come up with horrible or degrading takes towards Lucien/Gwyn - but its not widely accepted. Take some believing that Gwyn is an “evil” LS. Maybe 4/10 elriels would agree but mainly - none of us think she’s evil. Possibly manipulated? Yes. But having nefarious intentions? No.

You get my point?

What they did with that instagram post was just downright embarrassing. Like there is no other way to word it - it was icky, pathetic and honestly. For me, it just solidified they are very very insecure in their ship and as people, petty. Bcs wtf childish behaviour was that??? And now crying over someone theorising Elain being an LS when majority have hated Gwyn being an Ls for so long. Its just. Im so glad to be an elriel. & grateful elriels dont behave like they do on average.

LMFAO you’re so real for that bcs I do not keep up with Gwynriel or elucien posts. It requires a whole different type of anti logic to understand.

I think when elriels comment under anti stuff, 95% of the time its by accident or people just wanting to have a genuine conversation but when antis comment under elriel content, 99.999% of the time its to rile elriels up. Atp, im convinced they dont even gaf about you refuting their points. They just want to spread their arguments and misinformation in a superior, condescending manner. Then you prove them wrong and they go crying about “elriels are soooo toxic” then boom, blocked you.

I love the elriel bubble I created for myself, it’s filled with good people who love elriel as much as I do. They’ve made this fandom such a bearable place to be in and its why I love creating elriel content. I wouldn’t change my mutuals and friends ive made through liking elriel for the world. And Im glad you’ve created that positive elriel space for yourself too.

[o4o41]

Rottmnt

An episode idea.

I think it would be funny that one of the tmnt would be into glam and glitter and colorful especially pink/purple clips and songs. And another one just gets metaphorically dbts (looks like cotton candy). He esp likes it when his bros are bothered by it. Maybe Frida likes that aesthetic too.

And that'd be Rise Leo. Mikey joins him too maybe in the beginning. Joins the hype.

And then later Leo turns into Cutness Lord and sends his cute minions to hunt others into pink bothersomeness. Maybe he enjoys it and shares the "love and kindness."

This plot can add up to the idea of his gayness and stuff.

[shidoglazer]

When f!reader gives their bestfriend consent if they want to practice somnophillia, and when they both had a sleepover, she woke up to him rutting inside her! , needy!bllk boys? Could you write for kaiser, sae, shidou, ness, and yk anyone ya wanna add. Oh and bonus points if it's hybrid!bllk boys. Imagine waking up to them breeding reader! Sorry if it's too weird or ya don't wanna do it, thanks if you do it! :3

🔞 needy!bllk boys multi-charac drabble somnophillia breeding

ft: kaiser, sae, shidou, ness

more cw: size kink (kaiser), slight dumbification (sae) roughhousing (shidou)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.���..｡.:*･'( * )'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

MICHAEL KAISER

- when you proposed the idea of somnophillia during your sleepover at his place, he literally scoffed into your face. there’s no way he had such little willpower that he’d fuck you in your sleep! what’s so good about that, anyways? at least, that’s what he thought.

- when it was time for bed, you didn’t wait for kaiser before immediately falling asleep under the sheets you were basically drowning in. you were exhausted anyways. as he walked into the room and saw your petite body being covered by such a big blanket.. “i’ve never had much willpower anyways.” he thought to himself

- he slowly made his way to the bed, bending down to observe your sleeping face before slowly taking off the blankets, shifting your body so now your knee-below was hanging off the bed. his hands wandered around your thighs before tugging at the waistband of your shorts and panties, taking them both off in one go, discarding them to the side. he looked up to check if you were still sleeping, and you were. it was so wrong that he was enjoying this.

- he got onto his knees and spread your thighs apart, hands circling your inner thighs as his lips went onto your slit, licking and sucking onto your clit gently before trailing down to your hole, plunging his tongue into it, groaning. he savoured the taste of your pussy for some time more before pulling away, hurriedly taking off his boxers to let go of them boner that was tenting in his pants

- he rubbed his tip onto your slit, how were you so wet despite being asleep? he bent down to your level, elbows supporting him as he whispered to you, even if you weren’t able to hear it. “just the tip, liebling. okay?” he placed a kiss on your forehead before lining himself up, pushing in gently and stopping at the tip.

- eventually, he knew himself it wasn’t going to be just the tip, because now he was pounding his whole cock into you while stroking your hair soothingly to make sure you stayed asleep. it was nice that you were whimpering softly on his cock despite being unconscious, he found it so hot. “stupid slut, f’cken take it all.” he rutted into you deeply, groaning at the side of your ear as you stirred awake slowly, looking at the sight beneath you.

- “…kaiser?” “mm. want a bath?” “yes please.”

ITOSHI SAE

- when you proposed the idea during the sleepover, he didn’t say anything except a “hm.” with the usual cold face he had. but trust me, he was internally freaking out about how compliant you’d be if he fucked you while you were asleep ..

- when it was bedtime, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms quickly. your body was completely limp under him, and it’d be a lie if he said it didn’t turn him on. he found himself disgusting, yet he couldn’t help the growing boner in his pants. i mean, it’s fine right? you said it was fine, so its fine! he was trying so hard to justify his own actions ..

- he held your head close to his chest with one hand while the other tugged off your shorts and panties, placing a kiss onto your head as he took off his own boxers, bringing up your leg so it was resting on his waist, being spread out for him. he placed another kiss onto your head, nuzzling into it. “i’m sorry, sweet girl.”

- he held onto your waist to keep you steady, slowly putting it all in as he groaned, biting his lower lip to refrain from making any sounds that would wake you up. when all of him was in you, he stroked your face with his fingers lovingly. “g’na fuck you nice and deep, all for your stupid little hole.” he started moving slowly, being completely gentle with your body to not accidentally hurt you or wake you up. then his pace started getting faster, the squelching noises were louder than anything in the room right now, just how was your pussy so tight when you’re knocked out?

- “haaah.. gonna cum, stupid slut. you gonna let me cum in you nice and deep? good fucking girl.” he held onto your hips, thrusting a few more times before shooting his cum into you, his head throwing back. he moaned gently at the sensations before immediately snapping back when he heard your voice call out to him.

- “..sae.?” “sorry. stay here, i’ll clean you up.” “wait,” before you could reply, sae pulled out of you, earning a small gasp as he walked over to the bathroom to grab a wet towel for you.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

- oh he will never let this go. as soon as you proposed it to him, he was grinning like an idiot, pulling you closer to him by the hip and looking at you dead in the eye. “100% serious? you’re not gonna be mad or like, upset if i do it?” you nodded in response, earning a giggle from him.

- he had more self control than you thought, because even when you were trying to tease him by staying up until late so he wouldn’t be able to get what he wants, he stayed up just as late with you at the corner of the room painting a masterpiece. eventually, you gave up trying to fight with him and just went to bed.

- as he realised you were asleep, he put down everything at hand and jumped into bed, laying on his stomach while his legs kicked up and down, watching you sleep peacefully before slowly taking off the blanket inch by inch, then your panties. he experimentally put one finger into your hole, feeling your gummy walls clench around him as a natural reaction. “whatta whore.”

- he got up and took off his boxers, not being able to hide his growing boner anymore. he put your legs onto either of his shoulders, lining himself up with you as he shoved the whole thing into you in one swift motion, stretching you out intensely as he was basically whimpering, “so- damn tight, fuckin hell..”

- his pace was ruthless, pounding into you as your whole body was limp. you were absolutely knocked out from exhaustion anyways from staying up so late, so it’d made sense why you were so deep into sleep. nevertheless, it was impossible for someone to sleep through all this.

- as he came closer to his orgasm, his pace started to hurry, causing you to stir awake to see the sight of him pounding into you while hovering over your body. when your mind processed what was going on, you clutched onto the sheets and threw your head back, “f-fuck,, haah, mnngh, ryu! how long have you been doing this?!” “mnng, dunno, sweet girl. why? you gonna cum soon?” and you knew you couldn’t deny his words.

- as he rutted into your stomach, your orgasm came too, everything washing over you like a wave of pleasure as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, body squirming under his. he pulled out slowly, letting all the juices leak out of you.

- “sooo.. one more round?” “absolutely.. not..” you said between laboured breaths, panting.

NESS ALEXIS

- he was like a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time when you proposed it to him. stuttering, face going red, stumbling over everything… “w-wait, what? are you sure? is it, is it not gonna like hurt??? nonono, i think its better if you-“ you immediately shut him up with a kiss, shaking your head.

- during bedtime, he coaxed you to sleep quite easily while you were in his arms from how gentle his touches were and how tender his voice was. he couldn’t deny that it did turn him on, the idea of using your hole freely without any shame ..

- now, he was basically a whimpering mess as he fucked you from behind, whispering apologies in between his breathy moans as he held onto your waist tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. “feels so good! nggghh, i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry, couldn’t help it,,”

- his pace quickened when he felt the familiar coil in him, his hold on you tightening as he shot loads of cum into you, moaning as tears pricked into his eyes. he himself wasn’t sure if it was from the guilt or from the overstimulation. either way, he flinched when you started shifting and stirring awake, quickly pulling out of your hole as you turned your head around to look at him.

- “..did you just?-“ “i’m sorry princess.. i’m so sorry,, i’ll run you a bath.” and without another word, hes rushing to the bathroom to start preparing your bath. you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips

★ check out my masterlist!

[fushigurhoez]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 - 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!

ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna

inc: allusions to multiple rounds, breeding kink, unprotected sex, irresponsible behavior, scent kink, reader is down BAD, manhandling, overstimulation, dry humping, mating press, cervix fucking? sukuna is his own warning, (degradation + dehumanization in his) true form heian era!kuna, sukuna’s stomach mouth, age gap between toji and reader bc duh (38/19+)

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨-

Gojo couldn’t help but feel like something was different about you. No, he knew something was different about you. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. You seemed to be…craving his presence more than usual, and that was saying something given his own level of clingy-ness. He didn’t want to make any assumptions as to what could be going on, chalking it up to you just missing him due to the recent influx of assignments he’d been tasked with. But as you both sat on the couch partaking in your weekly tradition of movie night, it seemed like you were more interested in him than whatever was on the screen. Rom-com? Horror maybe? You wouldn’t know. You had abandoned your spot on the couch in favor of his lap, which was fine and not inherently unusual. Except your face was tucked into his neck, leaving hot kisses on his smooth skin while your legs entrapped him like a damn boa constrictor. “B-baby” he reasoned earning a simple “hm?” from you, and he swears you wrapped your legs tighter. “Can you even see the movie?” He asked and you finally pulled back, quirking a brow at him. “I don’t really care about the movie toru.” And then your lips were back on him, sucking on the spot under his ear.

“But you’ve been talking about—shit—about this movie for weeks?” His breath hitched in his throat, hands coming to rest on your waist in order to ground himself and his focus so he could try and understand you.

“I’m more interested in you right now, toru.” You grind down in his lap, clothed center pressed to the semi-hard bulge in his pajama pants and his eyes widen, the hold on your waist becoming tighter. “baby, we just had sex this morning?” And while he wasn’t complaining that you wanted him, he was confused to say the least. You were fairly inexperienced compared to him so your stamina wasn’t exactly adequate for more than one round just yet.

“I’m ovulating, satoru” you explained, picking up on his confusion. For someone with six eyes he could be oblivious at times. “I need you to fuck me again.” You whisper in his ear like it’s a secret and he doesn’t need to look to know that he’s rock hard now. Your grinding has gotten more desperate, barely stopping long enough for you to slip one of your eager hands into his pants and underneath his briefs, savoring how hot and heavy he was in your palm.

“Fuck baby, okay. Let me eat you out first, yeah?” He moved to lay you back but you stopped him, pushing him back against the couch and grabbing one of his hands, forcing it into your panties and he almost moaned at the slickness that covered his fingers.

“Don’t need it.” You rasped, pulling him out of his pants and sliding your underwear to the side, positioning his glistening tip to your wet vagina. His hands slid down and held your hips in place, stopping you from dropping down on him and you whined. You fucking whined because he wouldn’t let you sink his cock into you already.

“If you’re ovulating we should really use a condom baby” he tried to be the voice of reason but you weren’t hearing him, the only thing in your head was getting him inside you.

“Don’t want that, wanna feel you without it” you said as though it was perfectly understandable, paying no mind to the stunned look on his face.

“Satoru, please. It hurts” and just like that, all logic was lost in his mind, taking his hands off your hips and throwing them over the couch behind him lazily.

“Fine, but you’re doing all the work.”

And work you did, spearing yourself down on him in one go, ignoring the slight burn you felt as your hole stretched around him. You didn’t take any time to adjust, taking the pleasure with the pain as your arms slung themselves around his shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock, but it wasn’t enough. You planted your feet on the couch on either side of him in a squat position, hoisting yourself up until only his tip was nestled inside you before slamming down on his dick, eliciting what just might have been the hottest fucking groan from him. His big hands flew to your ass, squeezing it and spreading you open so that he could somehow get deeper inside you.

“Oh my fucking god baby, fuck!” He grunted, crudely planting his feet on the coffee table and thrusting up into you just as you fucked down on him, meeting you in the middle. So much for making you do all the work.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨-

Geto sighed as he jammed the key into the lock of the apartment, soreness from his session at the gym already setting in. He locks the door behind him and sets his gym bag on the island in the kitchen, removing his headphones from around his neck and setting them down just as he feels arms wrap around his waist and a soft body pressed flush to his back. He looks over his shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Hey love.” You stand on the tips of your toes, arms tightening around him as you kiss him hello. His abs are firm under your fingers, the thin cotton T-shirt doing nothing to soften their definition. He can barely pull away from the kiss to ask you how your day was before your lips are on his again and he lets out a surprised chuckle, turning around in your embrace to snake his strong arms around your waist. Your tongue ghosts over his bottom lip and he lets you in, turning his head to the side the slot your lips closer together as you moan into his mouth, something you’re normally shy about doing. He tries to pull away again, but your lips follow his like he’s trying to take away your oxygen. You arch into his hold, breasts crushed to his hard chest. He pulls away again, nipping at your now swollen bottom lip as a warning not to follow.

“..I take it someone missed me.” He says, and it’s not a question..he can tell. You’re breathing heavier than usual, your body is still glued to his and you’re looking at him like it’d be a betrayal for him to let you go.

“mhm” you nod and that shyness he knows all too well rears its head, in the form of you hiding your face in his chest. At least that’s what he thought you were doing. He kisses the top of your head, hand caressing your back under his shirt that you had stolen.

“I know you need me, but I have to shower my love.”

“N-no!” You quickly protest, surprising him yet again when your hands grip his shirt even though he hadn’t made any efforts to leave.

“No?” He laughed and it rumbled in his chest. “I’m all sweaty though”

“like the way you smell.” You admit, and he suddenly understands why you’ve been nuzzling your nose into his chest.

“Is that so?” He teases, his hand creeping under the oversized shirt you were wearing to cup your hot cunt through your panties. The fabric was soaked and sticky with your arousal.

“Y-yes. I really like it sugu.” He hums.

“I believe you sweet girl.”

you hiss when he bunches them up in his hand, pulling on the front of your panties, the crotch of them sinking between your puffy lips, into your slit and applying pressure to your aching clit. Your hands fly to his arms, steadying yourself as you stand on the tips your toes again trying to escape the way he practically flosses your pussy with your own panties. He stares down into your eyes before he releases them and you sigh in relief, though your insatiable cunt craves for him to do it again.

“Please suguru..please.” You beg, tears burning at the edge of your lash line and he coos.

“You’re so needy, baby. What are you even asking me for?” He drives his hips forward, knocking yours back into the counter and it might have hurt had you not been so focused on the outline of his cock against you. He was so hard, you could imagine how good he would feel inside you—

“I asked you-“ he pulled his hips back suddenly, his hand pulling your panties up between your dripping slit again but harder this time, making you cry out. “—a question”

He kissed you, swallowing your sounds as he shifted your panties back n forth over your clit, the slightly rough texture of the intricate lace making your legs quiver. He shook his wrist quickly, still holding your underwear tight against your clit, showing no mercy and it almost felt like he was vibrating. He pulls away from your lips chuckling at the way your mouth opened in a wide ‘o’ nails digging into his biceps as you came, moaning his name loudly. You sob when he doesn’t stop, clawing at his wrist as a silent plea for him to stop. He finally lets go, grabbing one of your arms and manhandling you over the counter, face pressed to the cold marble before he’s tearing your panties down your legs groaning at the clear mess all over your pussy and inner thighs.

“You wanna tell me what has you this fucking worked up?” He asks, unable to resist slapping your ass. You gasp and his dick twitches in his pants at the way the fat wobbles under the palm of his hand.

“I’m ovulating..”

It was that sentence that got you bent over and fucked on the kitchen counter.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨-

“Ow!” You cry, hand reaching back to pull Toji’s hand away from your ass, which was now stinging after how hard he smacked it. “Toji that hurt!”

“Quit your whinin’. Told you to stop moving.” He said indifferently, continuing what he was doing on his phone. His arms were wrapped around your waist, eyes peering over your shoulder at his phone as the two of you laid in bed.

“Sorry. I’d hate to distract you while you text your other bitches.” You mumble into his neck as you lay on his chest. He cuts his eyes at you, winding his hand back to smack your ass again and you squeal, laughing as you grab his hand midair, lacing your small fingers with his. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

He glares at you for a bit longer, his gaze holding no real annoyance before he shakes his head and goes back to texting shiu. You adjust yourself in his lap, untangling your legs from his in favor of straddling him. You move your hips and toji thinks you’re just trying to get comfortable, arm tightening around your waist to keep you still. A few quiet minutes pass by before you start to rock in his lap, trying to be sneaky about it. Toji sighs in agitation, thumb hovering over his phone screen mid-text.

“Y/n”

You don’t respond, kissing his neck almost as if trying to distract him from what you were doing. He buries his hand in your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head out of his neck, an unimpressed look on his face.

“What..the fuck are you doing.” He asks, truly tired. Tired of your shit.

“I’m horny.” You say shamelessly and he thinks back to the start of your relationship, when you shyly asked him to take your virginity. What had he done?

“Of course you are. I’m busy right now.” He said flatly, going back to his conversation. You groaned as though you had been wounded, face planting dramatically into the pillow his head was resting on.

“You need to get busy with this pussy.” You mutter, but with how close you were to his ear you might as well have just said it out loud.

Toji scoffs incredulously, pulling on your hair again to get you to look at him, those jade eyes you love so much piercing through you.

“The fuck did you just say?” He wanted to laugh. You had never, ever been this straightforward with him.

“You heard me.” You doubled down and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You had a challenging look on your face as though you were daring him to do something about the way you had just spoken to him.

“You look real proud of yourself doll, it’s cute.” He said and your face fell, making him smile fully at your defeat, canines gleaming and making you wonder what it’d be like to feel them sink into your neck, or maybe your breast..

“you’re ovulating. I told you i’m not fucking you until you’re done.”

“Excuses, excuses. If you can’t keep up with me, then just say that old man.”

You’d really gone and done it now. Toji raised his brows at you briefly before sighing and tossing his phone somewhere on the bed. He pushed you off of him harshly and you fell back onto the bed, bouncing slightly. He got off the bed, grabbing your ankles and dragging you down to the edge making you let out a surprised squeak as he reached under the shirt of his you were wearing and snatched your panties down your legs, scoffing at how wet and slimy they were in the middle. He undid the drawstring on his sweatpants, dropping them to his feet and you could feel that familiar heartbeat inside of you at the sound and sight of his cock slapping his lower abdomen. He got on the bed again, pushing your legs up to your chest and you gasped.

“T-toji, foreplay?” You asked, suddenly scared and he shook his head as he rubbed the thick head of his cock through your syrupy folds, bumping into your sensitive clit. “You don’t need it.” And then he sunk into you in one thrust, pushing your legs up even further, beside your head and you screamed at the way his cock head grazed over your gspot and then kissed your cervix, which was more sensitive due to you ovulating. Your hand pushed at his tummy, trying to put some distance between him and you and he didn’t bother moving it, just fucked you harder, faster. “Don’t fucking run from it.” He groaned, feeling himself deep inside of you and if he could somehow stuff his balls in too then he probably would.

“And don’t come crying to me when you don’t get your period next month either.”

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Sukuna couldn’t take it anymore. It was uncharacteristic of him to stop a task before finishing, to neglect whatever duties that fit into his schedule as a king. But how could he focus on the construction plans for the estate when you clearly needed him? He had sensed it this morning in the way that you clung to him as he was getting out of bed, like you didn’t want him to leave. Not that that was out of the ordinary for you, he had come to accept that you were extraordinarily clingy. But your hold on him felt more needy, like you were desperate for something. Along with your displeasure with his departure, there has been a sickeningly sweet smell following him, tormenting him briefly before dispersing like it was never even there. He had brushed it off, having more pressing matters to attend to around the estate and it had been hours since then. He ceases his contemplation, standing up from the end of the table as the eyes of his servants stare at the ground, not daring to follow his movements.

“Uruame, see to it that this is done adequately. There’s something else that requires my attention.”

“Yes my lord.”

He enters his quarters, not finding you in your usual place on his throne, so he makes his way to your shared bedroom. There is no sign of you except your night attire folded on your side of the bed. He can feel the steamy drifting under the door and hears the sound of the bath turning off, so he loosens his robe revealing his tattooed chest before he sits on his side of the bed awaiting your emergence.

You open the door and sigh in relief at the feeling of cool air on your warm skin, tightening the towel around your body. You tense when you register Sukuna’s presence, deep red eyes trained on you almost suspiciously. He’s staring you down, observing you. You relax, walking towards the bed with your hand holding the top of the towel secure to your body. “Can I help you my lord.” You ask and he growls low in his throat, because you only ever call him that when you’re being a smartass. He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your chest and he towers over you despite being sat.

“Do not play coy. You’ve some nerve playing this game with me woman.” You tilt your head at him subconsciously.

“As much as I adore trolling you kuna, I’m not sure what you mean.”

He lets go of your wrist and brings you closer to him, pulling you to stand between his legs and your hands steady themselves on his shoulders as you stand there awkwardly with his large hand on your waist. He growls again when that damn smell invades his nose again, only this time it’s stronger. He’s nosing down the side of your neck, and the smell of your shampoo is there too but it’s weak in comparison to the other scent. It’s a heady, musky type of scent with a sweetness that can only be described as alluring. So enticing that he had to abandon all his responsibilities for the day to follow it. His head moves lower, nose trailing down your chest until he reaches your towel. You try and hold his head, hands pulling on his pink hair but he doesn’t stop his descent down your body, his keen nose leading him to the spot between your thighs, where he spends most of his nights. You grip his hair tighter, trying to push him away bashfully when he inhales greedily.

“S-Sukuna! What are you—“ he switches places with you, and suddenly you’re lying back on the bed while his four arms cage you in underneath him.

“Hush, woman. Why didn’t you tell me you needed my attention this morning?”

You look away from him in embarrassment but he’s having none of it, forcefully tilting your face back to him with a single finger.

“dunno what you’re talking about.” You lie and he hums unconvinced.

“I can smell your arousal, it’s strong today.. you needed me then, and you need me now, so why are you not voicing your requirements?”

“I wasn’t about to keep you from your work just because I’m ovulating, kuna.” He doesn’t say anything, looking down at you slightly displeased.

You’re about to speak again when you feel something that you quickly recognize as his stomach tongue, hot and wet sliding up your slit, eagerly lapping up your slick. He sees the way your thoughts leave you when he puts his tongue on you, fucking it into you and licking you out, before twirling the tip of it over your sensitive clit. You can’t help but spread your legs for more and he can’t contain his excitement and curiosity about your body in this state, ripping the flimsy white towel off of your body and throwing it behind him as if it were trash.

“Explain this “ovulation” to me at once” he demands, not letting up on your weeping pussy to allow you to speak. You know it’s because he enjoys watching you struggle around your words, when you’re normally so bold without any hesitation over that mouth of yours.

“my body w-wants a baby, so it makes me—fuck! it makes me feel..” the word lingers at the tip of your tongue but the tip of Sukuna’s tongue is still twirling over your clit, working you up further.

“makes you feel horny? desperate to keep me in bed all day so I can give you both of my cocks? hm? breed you nice n full like a proper bitch?”

“Yes kunaaa, mm fuck!” His words are enough to make your eyes roll back into your head, convulsing as you cream all over the fat tongue devouring your pussy. You shake slightly, even after your orgasm and the mouth on his stomach licks the remnants of your orgasm off his lower abdomen greedily before sealing shut.

“Very well then, present yourself to me.”

Your fucked out brain has a hard time computing his words as you watch him undo his robe the rest of the way, revealing his cocks.

“w-what?” You ask and he sits up on the bed, freeing you from his weight and giving you room to move.

“If it’s a baby that your body desires that’s what i shall give. I said present yourself to me. I won’t ask again.”

You shakily move to position yourself on all fours, arms wobbling as you hold your upper body up and he laughs humorlessly.

“you’re asking me to give you my seed, and that’s the best you can do?” He presses the head of one of his dicks to your hole and it flutters at the anticipation of being stuffed.

You drop your shoulders down on the bed, back bent in a deep arch, as you wiggle your ass at him shamelessly.

“Please kuna.” You beg helplessly and you can hear how pleased he is in his tone.

“Good bitch.”

[hms-no-fun]

Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

[geminiwritten]

karaoke friday ; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fandom: top gun

pairing: bradley x reader

summary: you're a bartender at the hard deck with a huge crush on rooster, and rooster (very cheesily) uses karaoke friday to confess his own feelings to you

notes: this goes in SO many different directions and i'm so sorry about that, but i still had so much fun writing it! i hope y'all enjoy even though it is super cheesy (but i tried really hard not to make it cringe) and kinda, super long... please let me know what you think! i really love feedback

warnings: swearing, very poor us navy knowledge (as usual), lots of drinking and drinking on the job, SUPER CHEESY, italics, switching povs (kinda), there's a little bit of 'mean-girl-ness', and it's pretty fucking horny in some places so 18+ PLEASE!!!

word count: 11336

“Do I need to add ‘putting your ass on my bar’ to the sign?” Penny emerges from the bar’s back of house door, her arms wrapped around a case of beer and her best disapproving mum glare painted on her face.

You smile sheepishly and push yourself off the bar, landing on tingly feet from how long your legs had been dangling as you chatted with Maverick. “Sorry Pen.”

“It’s my fault,” Maverick pipes up. “She was replacing a light bulb, and I distracted her.”

Penny heaves the case onto the bar with a huff before looking back at you. “What are you doing replacing my lights on your day off?”

“I noticed it was out the other night, and I knew I had a spare at home so I thought I might as well donate it.” You pick up the busted lightbulb by the bayonet and toss it into the bin behind the bar. “Also, it’s not my day off.”

Penny frowns, tipping her chin forward as she takes a moment to think. You wait patiently, because you’ve worked almost every Friday night for the past three years, and you know she’s probably just forgotten what day of the week it is.

“Well, anyway.” Mav slides off the stool on the other side of the bar. “I better get back to work.”

You turn to him with a frown. “Isn't everyone at their advanced first aid training today, or something?”

“Yeah, but I have a meeting.” He rolls his eyes as he says the last word, as if doing anything in his job description except for flying is just unimaginable. “A lieutenant from another squadron wants a chance to join my squad but won’t take no for an answer until I meet with her.”

Your frown slowly morphs into a scowl as you connect the dots. “Are you talking about-”

“Her callsign is Giggles.”

The next noise that leaves your lips is a mix between a groan and a gag.

Maverick raises a brow. “Not a fan?”

“She’s horrendous, Mav, and she only wants to join your squad to get closer to Rooster.”

“Wait a minute,” Penny pipes up. “Are we talking about that bottle blonde that comes in every Friday night and follows Rooster around like a lost puppy?”

You nod. “Yup.”

Mav chuckles as he slides his aviators up his nose. “Well, regardless of her ulterior motives, she’s not joining the squad. My hands are full as it is and I’m not sure she could cut it.”

You can’t help the small, satisfied smirk that lifts the corner of your lips as you turn toward Penny and her half-empty case of beer. You already know Giggles isn't good enough for Bradley, but hearing Mav say that she isn’t good enough for the squad is a small piece of validation that might help get you through tonight’s shift.

“Anyway,” Maverick says as he moves toward the door. “I’ll see you both later tonight.”

You look back over your shoulder at him. “Are you coming back for a drink?”

He nods, his lips tugging into a grin. “I would never miss watching my godson embarrass himself on karaoke night.”

Realisation hits you and you groan, dropping your head into both of your hands as you crouch down beside the case of beers. “Fucking karaoke Friday.”

Penny laughs softly. “That’s right, it’s the last Friday of the month. I completely forgot.”

It’s not that you hate karaoke, you just hate sober karaoke. If you were seven tequila shots deep and on the other side of the bar, you’d no doubt have the microphone and be attempting to sing some overplayed ABBA song with one of your friends. But no, you’re sober and behind the bar. Watching in horror as wasted patrons embarrass themselves in a hot and crowded room full of sweaty bodies.

Now that you think about it, maybe half your hatred for karaoke Fridays stems from the fact that it is almost always the busiest night of the month.

“Guess you’re not getting out early tonight,” you tell Penny as you slide the last of the beers into the fridge.

She sighs and shakes her head. “Not a chance.”

You often encourage Penny not to stay until close on weekends, because she deserves a little time to herself. Whenever possible, she’ll help you with the evening rush before ducking out for a late dinner or adult sleepover with Maverick. You don’t mind being left to close on your own, because you’re never really alone.

On the nights when you’re the last one behind the bar, Bradley is always the last one on the other side of it. Most of the time, the squad will stay until last call, but then Bradley will bid them goodbye and sit himself in the same stool at the end of the bar. Almost like he's guarding the swinging wooden doors that separate you from your patrons. He usually just asks for tea or water, and when you’re not serving, he talks to you about anything and everything. Then at the end of the night, he waits for you to lock the doors and make it safely to your car before he walks to his.

You’re not sure why he does it. You assume it’s because he has literally been trained to keep people safe, but sometimes you let yourself read more into it. You imagine that he might fancy you, not pity you, and he stays because he likes getting a little bit of alone time with you.

You can still remember the night you first met Bradley like it was yesterday, not nearly four years ago. He had just graduated the Top Gun programme and was celebrating with what felt like every naval officer based on North Island. He was very drunk and hardcore flirting, but only with you. There were throngs of women practically begging him to look at them, but his eyes stayed on you.

You stole his keys out of his pocket that night, not trusting him after the number of drinks you’d watched him sling back. He eventually passed out in a booth, and at the end of the night a couple of his friends stuffed him into a cab. You forgot all about his keys until the next morning when you returned to clean the bar. He was waiting by the door, looking very hungover and very sheepish.

He apologised for everything except the flirting, which he wanted to make abundantly clear. You blushed and waved him off before making him a greasy breakfast and telling him to sit at the bar while you started cleaning. After his nausea wore off, he started helping you despite your protests. You talked and flirted all morning until he announced that he had to go to the Top Gun graduation ceremony.

After that, he spent every night at The Hard Deck until he left North Island, and once he was gone, you had a hard time convincing yourself you hadn’t imagined the whole thing. You were so young at the time and Bradley was older, his career was just taking off. Why would he be interested in a bartender who has no idea where her life is going?

So, despite having exchanged numbers to stay in touch, you resisted the urge to text him. You saw a couple of updates on his social media that you followed, but they were very vague and mostly just signs of life every few months. You let yourself file Bradley away in your brain as something too good to be true, because there was no way someone that perfect really existed.

Years, boyfriends, heartbreaks, and a lot of shifts at The Hard Deck later, Bradley Bradshaw walked back into your bar. Your heart floundered as it tried to break free from your chest and deliver itself to the boy who claimed it all those years ago. He looked fucking good.

You picked up exactly where you’d left off, and so routine became ritual. Every Friday night, Bradley and his friends came to The Hard Deck, waited until last call, and then Bradley would guard you like a K9 Unit German Shepherd until you closed the bar. Eventually, you got to know his friends too, and finally found a group of people you could be yourself with.

After their mission, the squad were asked to stay on North Island as a special operations unit, training under Maverick for specialised assignments. You hang out with them when you can, but it isn’t easy with such conflicting schedules, which is why your late-night closes with Bradley are so precious. The only thing nagging at you these days is your future; what it holds and who will be in it. But you do your best not to think about it, to live in the moment and appreciate every second you get to spend staring at Bradley Bradshaw’s gorgeous face.

“Are you alright if I duck out for a bit?” Penny asks, her voice dragging you out of your thoughts.

You nod. “No worries. I’ll getting everything stocked up.”

“You’re the best.” She slings her purse over your shoulder. “I should be back in about two hours.”

Once she’s out the door, you find your own purse under the bar and grab your headphones. You slip them on, crank the volume on your phone, and start bopping along to the music while you haul cases of alcoholic beverages from the back of house to behind the bar.

- Bradley -

Twenty naval officers file out of the conference room, down the hall, and out into the Friday afternoon sun. Their postures relax the moment they’re out of sight from their superiors, and they all slowly separate into their squads, moving in different directions across the base.

“Well,” Jake sighs as he stretches his arms above his head. “That’s a day I’ll never get back.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Yes. Because learning vital skills that could save lives, including our own, is such a waste of time.”

Jake smirks. “My sentiments exactly.”

Bradley slides his sunglasses up his nose as he walks a little faster to get in between the two aviators glaring at each other. “So, are we going to-”

“The Hard Deck,” Reuben interrupts, a smirk stretched across his face.

“For beers,” Mickey adds with a dramatic wink.

“No other reason, of course,” Natasha joins in the teasing. “Right, Rooster?”

Bradley takes a deep breath of warm, ocean-scented air before sighing it out as his friends snicker around him. “When are you lot ever going to leave me alone?”

“When you grow a pair and ask the girl out,” Jake replies, and Bradley doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Before I do.”

There’s a chorus of oohs from the squad, but Bradley simply rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses. Jake might be a flirt, but he’s not a full-blown idiot, and he knows better than to hit on you.

“Maybe I will tonight,” Bradley says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant.

Natasha scoffs. “That’ll be the day.”

“Willing to bet on it?” Reuben asks, stepping up beside Bradley with a grin stretched from ear to ear. This boy loves a bet.

Bradley’s eyes narrow as he considers his friend’s outstretched hand, his heart thumping faster than usual within his chest. Maybe it is time he makes a real move on you. Afterall, you’re only getting more gorgeous with every passing day and if he doesn’t act soon... well, he doesn’t want to think about what might happen.

He grips Reuben’s hand in his own, shaking it once. “Deal.”

“Oh, shit,” Mickey giggles. “Tonight is going to be good.”

“And it’s karaoke night,” Bob points out.

Mickey shakes his fists excitedly. “I fucking love karaoke night.”

They all launch into an animated discussion about what songs they should perform tonight, and even Bob makes a few suggestions, but Bradley isn’t paying much attention. He can see his Bronco up ahead, and he is itching to get to the bar. To get to you.

“Rooster!”

A voice that he doesn’t recognise makes his head snap to the left, and there’s a collective groan amongst the dagger squad as a grinning blonde bounces toward them.

“Hey Giggles,” Bradley says, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as he feels about her presence.

“Did you just finish your first aid refresher?”

He nods, offering her a half-assed smile as he realises that he doesn’t actually remember what her given name is. His brows furrow as he tries to picture the letters stamped on the side of her jet, but then he realises that he can’t remember the last time he saw her in a jet. Up close, at least. The dagger squad train almost exclusively on their own. They rarely interact with other squadrons.

“I did mine last week,” she says. “If I knew which day you were scheduled, I would have definitely tried to join today’s group.”

Bradley nods once, unsure what to say to that but still lost in his thoughts trying to figure out what her actual name is.

“Anyway.” She flips her hair off her shoulder. “I just had a meeting with Maverick.”

“Oh,” is all Bradley responds with.

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to work with him for– like –ever. He’s just legendary, you know?”

Bradley’s lips tip up into a smirk. “I think notorious would be more accurate.”

She giggles, because that’s what she does. “Well, he said I could fly for him and try out for your squad.”

Bradley freezes, and the whole squad comes to a screeching halt.

“Try out?” Jake echoes, before snorting a laugh. “This isn’t a cheerleading squad. We were selected and trained as a specialised unit. This isn’t something you can try out for.”

“Hangman,” Natasha warns. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude, she’s being delusional.”

“Excuse me?” Giggles props her hands on her hips.

Bradley turns to Natasha with a quizzical frown, but she just shrugs. He looks back at Giggles. “Look, I’m sure whatever you spoke with Mav about will be great for your career. So, good luck.”

He offers her one last clipped smile before continuing toward the parking lot. Jake winks at the angry blonde before Javy puts a hand on either of his shoulders and steers him away.

Natasha quickens her pace to match Bradley’s. “You don’t think Mav would really consider-”

“No.” Bradley shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

It’s not only that the squad are not particularly fond of Giggles, but it’s also the fact that none of them are keen on the idea of adding to the team. They’re all too close and too comfortable, and they work exceptionally well together. Changing that dynamic could seriously impact their functionality and in turn, damage any one of their careers that they’ve worked so hard to achieve. They’re all exactly where they want to be, and they don’t want their positions to be challenged by anyone.

Bradley pauses before breaking away from the group. “Six o’clock?”

They all nod and mumble their agreeance.

“Does anyone need a lift?”

“You’re driving?” Reuben asks. “I thought you were going to ask your girl out tonight.”

Bradley frowns. “I can’t do both?”

Reuben chuckles. “Well, you’ve had plenty of sober chances to ask her out, so I assumed you’d need a little liquid courage to actually do it.”

Mickey laughs so suddenly that he snorts.

Bradley rolls his eyes playfully and points a finger at Reuben. “You just lost your ride privileges.”

Reuben groans in protest and Mickey laughs even harder as Bradley turns on his heel and walks toward the Bronco. He pops the door and falls into the driver’s seat, jamming the key into the ignition. As he drives home, his left knee bounces nervously. He’s always thought about asking you out, but actually doing it? He has no idea how he’s supposed to muster that kind of courage.

- You -

The clock on the wall opposite the bar taunts you. Its hands move slowly, creeping around its face at a painfully slow pace. You know exactly what time Bradley and your friends usually get here on a Friday night, and it’s still forty-five whole minutes away.

“You know,” Penny says, “staring at it won’t make it go any faster.”

You drop your gaze down to the glass you’ve been drying for at least a couple of minutes now. “I know, but if I don’t try then I’ll never know if I’ve magically developed superpowers.”

She laughs softly and takes the glass from your hands. “Why don’t you see if you have super lime slicing powers, hm?”

You roll your eyes playfully and tuck the tea towel into the back pocket of your jeans – the ones you know make your butt look incredible – before turning toward the small cardboard box of limes on the bench. You take a chopping board out from under the bar and a pairing knife. You set up a little station where the box of limes is on the right of the chopping board, and a bowl for the slices is to your left.

“Why don’t you just ask Rooster out?” Penny asks right as you cut the first lime in half.

Your cutting hand slips but you’re quick enough to flinch away before the knife slices your fingers. “Jesus, Pen. Could you learn a thing or two about timing, please?”

She rushes toward you, her brows crease with worry. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I’m fine.”

She relaxes once she sees that your fingers are unharmed, taking a step back and casually leaning her hip against the bar, waiting. Her gaze bores into the side of your face, but you stubbornly focus on the limes.

She waits until you drop the slices into the bowl to ask again. “So, why don’t you?”

You sigh. “If it was an easy thing to do, I would have done it a while ago.”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

You put the next lime on the chopping board and hesitate, frowning down at the little green fruit as if willing it to give you an answer that doesn’t sound as whiny as what you’re about to say. “Because he’s him, and I’m me.”

She quirks one brow, silently asking you to elaborate.

“He’s just”– you wave the knife in the air, at which her eyes widen slightly –“you know? He’s gorgeous and successful. He’s got every chance in the world and every damn woman on this island after him. Then there’s me, and I’m just” – you gesture down at the short black apron tied around your waist –“this.”

Penny’s brows pinch together, a mixture of confusion and curiosity painting her face. “What’s wrong with this?”

You sigh again. “I’m a bartender, Pen.”

“So am I.”

“No.” You drop the freshly sliced lime into the bowl. “You own a bar. There’s a difference.”

“Honey.” She pushes her hip off the bar and takes half a step toward you. “That boy doesn’t look at you like a bartender. He doesn’t see the girl who pours his beer. He looks at you like you hung the moon just for him.”

You feel the bridge of your nose pinch and your eyes sting, but you decide to blame it on the citrus instead of your own emotions.

She sighs and bends down to take a shot glass out from under the bar. “Here,” she says, pouring tequila into the small glass. “I know you’d rather be on the other side of the bar, but try to have a little fun tonight. On me.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the shot and then at Penny, who’s lips are pulled into a smirk. Without a second thought, you snatch the shot glass off the bar and tip it to your lips, grimacing as the liquid burns down your throat.

“You know what,” she says as she fills the glass up again, “I think I’d like to have a little fun too.”

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your lips as she tips the tequila into her mouth and winces. You don’t necessarily want to be a bartender forever, but you find it hard to think about the day you’ll have to hand your resignation in to Penny. She’s a pretty cool boss.

You continue cutting limes while Penny serves an influx of customers. Once the whole box of limes has been sliced, you cover the bowl in plastic wrap and place it at the bottom of one of the fridges. The bar is filling up slowly but surely, and you start pouring drinks while Penny handles the cash.

After you hand a beer to the last customer of a small rush, the light overhead – the one you replaced earlier – blinks and dies out. “Shit,” you mutter, staring up at it. “Maybe I didn’t screw it in properly? Mav kind of distracted me before, I didn’t double check it.”

Before Penny can protest, you kick the small, folding stool toward where you need it and step onto it. You brace your hands on the bar and bring one foot up, focusing all your balance and coordination on standing up straight and getting your other foot planted on the bar.

“Please be careful,” Penny says, her voice laced with worry.

“I’m fine, don’t stress.”

More voices join the chatter in the bar, and you can hear Penny greet the new patrons as you crane your neck to look up at the dead bulb. You reach up, silently praying to any god who might listen that you don’t get electrocuted. Your fingers gently grab the bulb and twist, it blinks back to life and delivers a small shock of electricity to your hand. It’s nothing more than a zap, but that’s enough to make you startle. You shift your feet without thinking and the heel of your boot comes off the edge of the bar. You quickly lose balance and fall.

You yelp, but you don’t hit the floor. A strong pair of arms catches you – one around your back and the other behind your knees. Your saviour makes a soft ooft noise as he takes all your weight and holds you against his chest. When you look up and see the stupid grin stretched across Bradley Bradshaw’s face, it feels like every inch of your skin has been lit on fire.

The bar erupts into cheers and claps as Bradley chuckles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you breathe out.

You stare into his eyes for a moment, appreciating every fleck of brown and gold as he stares back. Then he clears his throat and gently lowers your legs, his other arm helping you stand upright.

“Thanks,” you say as you right your skewed apron.

“Anytime.” He chuckles again. “Like, seriously. Anytime you want to fall for me, I’m right-”

You roll your eyes and swat a hand at his broad chest. “Oh, shut up.”

You turn to the rest of your friends and greet each of them, taking every sarcastic comment that they throw at you. Once you’ve given them each a hug or a high five, you walk the rest of the way around the bar to get back through the swinging wooden doors.

Penny looks at you with her mum glare. The unimpressed one.

“Sorry?” you offer sheepishly.

“Next time, leave it.”

You roll your lips to hide your smile as you bring your fingers to your forehead in a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

She shakes her head and turns toward the other side of the bar to serve someone that isn’t your friends, knowing you would prefer to serve them. You take a few short strides toward the beer taps, dust your hands on your denim-clad butt, and pick up a glass in each hand. You know their orders, you don’t have to ask.

“How was first aid?” you ask Natasha, because she’s the one right in front of you now.

Bradley is a step back from the bar, leaning toward Reuben and speaking too low for you to discern.

“It was fine,” Natasha replies. “Although, Hangman had some other thoughts.”

Jake drops a forearm on the bar and leans in. “I’m not saying it was totally useless, but a whole day to teach us what should already be common sense?”

“Something which you have very little of,” Natasha retorts.

You snort a laugh as you slide their drinks across the bar. “I’m not going to lie, Seresin. If you think first aid training is useless, then you’re my last pick to be stranded on a desert island with.”

Instead of acting offended, his smirk curls a little further and the mischievous glint in his eye twinkles. “Oh, come on. You know we’d have some fun.”

Bradley clears his throat and steps into Natasha’s place as she scoops her drink up and vacates with an amused grin on her lips.

“What kind of fun are we talking, Hangman?” Bradley asks, his brows raised in question.

Jake draws a long sip of foamy beer before turning his body toward Rooster. “Come on, Bradshaw. Use your imagination. There are a lot of things for two people to do when they’re alone.”

Your eyes bounce between the two men as they stare each other down. Jake’s lips are still pulled into a smirk, but Bradley’s are set in a firm line beneath his moustache, and the outline of his clenched jaw is more defined than usual.

“Well,” Jake sits his beer back on the bar, “we could-”

“Play Hangman!” you interrupt excitedly, deciding to cut the imaginary tether of tension that had been pulled taught between them.

Jake’s smirk breaks into a soft laugh. “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

He winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully before turning your attention down to the glass you just finished filling with beer. It’s a little too full, the foam on top threatening to overflow as you raise it up to place on the bar in front of Bradley. When the heavy bottom of the glass hits the hardwood bar top, the froth spills and drips down over your fingers.

“Oops, sorry,” you say, eyes flicking up to meet Bradley’s.

His usual soft brown gaze is so much darker than usual, and something about it is making the little hairs rise on the back of your neck.

“That’s alright,” he says, his voice low and a little raspy.

His fingers brush yours as he takes the glass, and when you pull your hand back, you suck your middle finger between your lips to clean the beer off. You’re not sure why you do it, and you don’t even realise what you’ve done until you drag your finger out of your mouth. All the while, keeping your eyes locked with Bradley’s.

“Really?” Jake’s voice slices through the tension. “You two are unbelievable.”

You blink a few times and the noise of the bar returns, as if getting lost in Bradley’s eyes had silenced the rest of the world. You can feel the apples of your cheeks burn, and you quickly dust your knuckles on your apron before picking up another glass.

Bradley clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, but he stops. You hear Jake chuckle and Bradley sigh, but you don’t let yourself look up again. By the time you finish pouring two more beers, Mickey and Reuben are standing in front of you with ear-to-ear grins.

- Bradley -

Jake slides into the booth beside Natasha while Bradley slides in next to Bob, but his eyes are still trained on the bar. Or more specifically, the bartender.

“Oh, my God.” Jake smacks a hand against the table. “You two should have seen what I just had to witness.”

Bradley sighs and drops his head, staring at the swirls and knots in the wood tabletop.

“I have never experienced such blatant eye-fucking!” Jake exclaims, a little too loudly. “I mean, seriously. That felt more explicit than watching porn on a public bus.”

Natasha, despite the amusement on her face, nudges Jake in his ribs. “Keep your voice down, Bagman.”

Bob chuckles and turns to Bradley. “Did you ask her out?”

“No!” Jake replies before Bradley can.

“Well, you better do it quick.” Natasha says. “It looks like you’re not the only interested party here tonight.”

Bradley’s eyes snap back toward the bar, narrowing on the man standing in front of you at the beer taps. He’s tall and broad, with close cropped blond hair and a smug smile painted on his face. His thick forearms are resting on the top of the bar, and he’s leaning so far forward that if he turns too abruptly, he might smack his nose on one of the taps.

“Is that Romeo?” Bob asks.

Bradley doesn’t respond, but he can see Natasha nod from the corner of his eye. No, this guy’s parents didn’t hate him so much that they gave him some lame Shakespearean name. It’s his callsign, and it's not too hard to guess how he got it.

Bradley doesn’t like the way you’re smiling at the blond man. In fact, he hates it. He doesn’t like the way your cheeks turn pink when he leans in a little further in, or the way you shyly tuck an imaginary piece of hair behind your ear. He does, however, very much like the way your eyes flit toward him every couple of seconds, as if checking that he’s still there.

He realises after a minute that you’re not acting shy, you’re uncomfortable with this guy, and that makes him feel a little less explosive. The pink in your cheeks and the timid movements aren’t because you’re feeling bashful, but because you feel awkward. Bradley is your security, your guard dog, and all you’d have to do is nod for him to leap out of his seat.

“Down boy.” Reuben chuckles as he slides into the booth beside Bradley. “He’s trying to flirt but she’s shutting him down.”

Javy takes a seat in the booth beside Jake while Mickey steals a chair from another table and sits himself at the head of the group.

“You know,” Mickey says thoughtfully, “I’ve always thought that Romeo and Giggles would make a good couple.”

Natasha snorts a laugh. “Yeah, maybe they can produce one braincell between the two of them.”

Jake gasps dramatically. “Phoenix! Don’t be rude.”

She rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t count when they can’t hear.” She then turns her attention to Bradley, who is taking a very generous sip of his beer. “Speaking of Giggles, did you talk to Mav?”

Bradley sculls half his drink before plonking it back down on the table. “No. I was going to call him, but he texted me to say he’d drop by the bar tonight. Thought I’d just ask him then.”

“Good.” She nods. “I have enough shit to stress about. I don’t need to worry about that airhead joining the team and blowing up everything we’ve worked for.”

The group start a half-hushed discussion about what Maverick could have possibly told Giggles to make her think she’d have a chance at joining the squad. Bradley hardly listens though, aside from giving the occasional head nod or chuckle when he catches a word or two. He keeps his eyes trained on you. The way you move around the bar, performing your job effortlessly. Everything is muscle memory; from the way you pour a beer to the way you shake the cocktail shaker.

When the crowd at the bar dies down, you say something to Penny before turning around and walking through the swinging wooden doors. He can’t help but ogle your ass in those jeans; the way it moves as you walk and bend toward tables, collecting empty glasses. The jeans hug you in such a way that makes him jealous – yeah, he’s jealous of denim now. They pinch into the crease between your cheeks and your thighs before stretching down your legs – those legs that would look perfect thrown over his shoulders as he buries himself inside of you.

The cuffs of those mouth-watering jeans are tucked into boots. Big black boots with scuffed toes and frayed laces. Bradley has never seen you wear any other shoes at the bar. They’re your chosen uniform, and he’s thought way too much about fucking you in nothing but those boots.

An idea pops into Bradley’s head as he watches your booted foot shove an unoccupied chair out of your way. He nudges Reuben. “Move, I need to check something.”

Reuben frowns as he slides out of the booth, freeing Bradley.

“Get another round while you’re up, would you, darling?” Jake calls after him.

Bradley waves a hand in acknowledgement as he beelines toward the other side of the bar where the karaoke machine is. There’s a thick, tattered binder sitting atop the machine that lists every song available to be sung. He flips it open and starts searching.

It only takes about ten seconds to find the song he’s looking for, and his heart starts pumping a little faster. He’s going to need a lot more drinks to pull this off.

“Bit early to start that, isn’t it?”

Bradley flips the binder shut and turns to Maverick, who is standing beside him wearing that signature smirk. He drops the binder back atop the machine. “I need to talk to you.”

Maverick sighs. “What have I done now?”

Bradley leans an arm on the top of the karaoke machine as he explains the squad’s earlier interaction with Giggles. Maverick doesn’t look shocked or sheepish, he looks exasperated by the time Bradley finishes.

“This woman is relentless.” Mav presses two fingers against his temple.

“So, she’s not trying out for-”

“Of course not.” Maverick says. “That’s not even something she could do. This is an elite unit of specially selected and trained aviators. Giggles barely graduated TOPGUN. I’m not even sure how she qualified for the programme.”

Bradley tips his head curiously. “Then what did you tell her?”

“She wouldn’t let up unless I gave her something, so I said I’d fly with her. One weekend, we’d do a quick drill and I could give her some pointers. Maybe give her a reference if she impressed me.”

Bradley chuckles. “You really have an excellent way of communicating with women.”

Mav scowls at his godson, though it’s much less intimidating than he’d like given the height difference. “I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear.”

“Obviously not.”

Mav sighs again. “Obviously.”

At that moment, the devil herself walks into the bar. Her blonde locks bounce as she walks, her eyes scanning every face in the room as she searches for something. Or someone.

“Maybe you should talk to her now,” Bradley says quietly to Mav. “Better to set things straight before she tells every naval officer on North Island that the elite dagger squad is holding try outs.”

Maverick chuckles. “Good idea, Rooster. I think you should join me. Maybe you can clear something else up for her too.”

Bradley’s brows pinch into a frown, but before he can protest, Giggles has spotted the two of them and Mav is waving her over.

- You -

It’s almost like your body is connected to Bradley’s in some intrinsic way. You can’t not be aware of him, his presence and where he is. You’re the North to his South, like two magnets being held close enough to make each other move but not yet close enough to snap together. Though you’re not sure how much longer you can resist his pull.

“In the next lull, I’m going to grab some more vodka.” Penny’s hip bumps yours as she fills a glass of beer beside you.

You nod. “Grab an extra bottle for me, yeah?”

She laughs softly as she leans forward and places the beer on the bar. You dance around each other easily, having worked together for so long that you know exactly how the other is going to move. You feel at peace behind the bar, despite how busy the place is getting. Your movements are easy and familiar. You fill beer glasses, you pour shots, you fill short and tall glasses with ice and soda, and you take cash and swipe cards.

You’re so in tune with the bar that you almost feel the main door swing open, revealing a gorgeous blonde bombshell wearing a tiny pink sundress. Your stomach sinks and your feet freeze. You’d have to be an idiot not to think she’s attractive – albeit a little annoying – and you don’t blame anyone in the bar for craning their necks to stare at the Barbie doll that just entered.

“Here.” Penny slides a shot glass across the bench below the bar. “I’m going to get some more bottles. Are you good?”

You lift the shot to your lips, not caring who sees, and swallow the tequila without so much as wincing. You drop the little glass into the sink. “I’m good.”

You try hard not to watch Giggles approach Bradley and Mav, but it’s hard when you don’t have anyone to serve. The rush has died down, and most people are now seated with their friends, chatting and sipping happily. You wipe down the bar top and the bench, you fill the dishwasher and start a cycle, and you restock the napkins and straws, but your eyes still wander back over to Bradley. You need a distraction.

“Hey, beautiful,” Romeo – you have no clue what his real name is – says, leaning forward on the bar.

You take a deep breath. Not that distraction.

“Another one?”

He nods, sliding his empty glass toward you.

“Same?”

He nods again as you take the empty glass, put it in the sink, and grab a fresh one.

“Saw you sink that shot just now,” he says, lips pulled into a smirk. “Do you get off early tonight? Maybe we can have some fun.”

You shake your head, eyes glued to the golden liquid filling the glass. “No. Just trying to get through the night.”

“That’s a shame.” He leans forward even further, and you worry for a moment that he might actually climb over the bar. “What time do you get off?”

“Late.”

He remains undeterred by your clear disinterest. “How late? Maybe I could give you a lift home.”

You plonk the beer on the bar in front of him. “Too late.”

You hear a shrill giggle, and you can’t help it. Your eyes snap toward Bradley, and you see Giggles’ perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his bicep as she leans in way too close to him. Your stomach ties itself in another knot.

“I see.” Romeo pushes himself off the bar and grabs his beer. “You’ve got a thing for birds.”

You turn back to him, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “What does that even mean?”

He rolls his eyes as if you exasperate him. “Just so you know, she’s joining his squad. They’re going to be together every day while you work your flat ass off for minimum wage every night. So, good luck competing with that.”

“Excuse me?” Penny snaps, appearing beside you with a box full of large liquor bottles. “You better apologise before I kick your ass out of here.”

Romeo scoffs, his mouth popping open to retort when two other patrons step up to the bar.

“Got a problem here, ladies?” Jake asks, a challenging smirk stretched across his lips as he turns to face the blond idiot whose face is getting redder by the second.

Penny raises her brows at Romeo. “Do we?”

He takes a deep breath, eyes bouncing between Penny, Jake, and Javy. “No, we don’t.” He looks at you and mumbles, “Sorry.”

The four of you watch as he turns and stalks toward his table of friends, not daring to look back.

Penny shakes her head. “I can’t believe that asshole said-”

“It’s okay, Pen,” you quickly interrupt. “He was just throwing a tantrum because I turned him down.”

Javy chuckles. “I don’t think Romeo ever has been turned down. Might have to give him a new callsign.”

You grab two clean glasses and start pouring your friends another drink each. “I think ‘assface’ sounds good, and it’s definitely more fitting.”

Jake nods. “His face does resemble an ass. A bad one.”

The corner of your lips tip up as you slide the two beers across the bar. When Jake tries to hand you his card, Penny pushes it away. “This one’s on the house.”

“Penny, my dear,” Jake says. “You are too kind.”

Javy tips his head in thanks as they both turn and head back toward the booth where the rest of your friends are.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Penny asks as you start unloading the box of liquor.

You nod once. “Yeah, fine.”

You know it isn’t convincing, but she doesn't have time to press you as another wave of thirsty patrons approaches. You let her serve and handle the payment while you make the drinks, silently sliding them across the bar until the small rush dies down. When you both have another moment to catch your breath, Penny turns to you, hand on hip and mouth poised to speak, but she stops. Her eyes move to something behind you.

You glance over your shoulder and your stomach flips up into your throat. How is it fair that Bradley can elicit such responses from your body simply by standing there?

You turn to face him. “Another drink?”

He nods. “Yes, please.”

Always so polite. You wonder for a second if he’s that polite in bed, or if he- Nope. Stop that.

You pick up a clean glass and start filling it, watching the golden liquid even though you can feel his eyes boring into you. When you look up, he’s wearing the same dark expression as before.

Your fingers brush his as you take his card, and your tongue darts across your bottom lip. You turn to the machine, ring up the drink, swipe the card, and turn back to him. You almost drop the card from the way you’re handing it to him, trying to avoid his touch.

Another shrill giggle makes you flinch, and you instinctively look over to where Mav is stuck in conversation with Giggles. He looks tired and like he needs saving.

You can’t help yourself when you turn back to Bradley. “I hear you’ve got a shiny new teammate.”

His brows pinch. “Where did you hear that?”

You shrug one shoulder, not really wanting to explain your earlier altercation with Romeo. “The grapevine.”

“Well, the grapevine is very wrong.”

You frown at him. “What?”

He takes a long sip of his beer, draining almost a third of it. “She got a little confused with what Mav said earlier today. To be honest, I’m not sure she’s even heard what he’s said to try and clear things up. She just keeps giggling.”

You laugh softly, rolling your lips to stop yourself from giggling. “Well, she certainly lives up to the name.”

He nods. “That’s for sure.”

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and press both palms on the bench beneath the bar, leaning forward. “Do you live up to yours, Rooster?”

He tips his head curiously, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “How do you mean?”

You shrug again and relax your weight back onto your feet. “You tell me. How did you get the callsign?”

He hesitates, and you can hear the dishwasher beep to signal it’s finished cycle. You step toward it, not too far from Bradley, and pop the door open.

He still hasn’t replied, so you decide to prompt him. “Are you an early riser? Do you like to sing in the mornings?” You pull out a rack of glasses and carry it to the bench right in front of him. You place it down and lean forward again. “Are you particularly vain? Or do you just have a massive cock?”

“Excuse me.” An older woman standing to the side of the bar calls for your attention. “Where are the toilets?”

Bradley’s cheeks are flaming, his eyes like saucers, and you have to control your laughter as you turn to face the woman. “Just that way.” You point at the very obvious sign.

Two more patrons step up to the bar, and you turn to Bradley with a wink. “Saved by the bell.”

You leave the stunned man to serve the other customers, and when Penny returns with armfuls of empty glasses, another rush kicks in. It’s that time of the night when everyone starts to stock up on liquid courage, slinging back drinks and shots and getting themselves ready for the karaoke.

You’re not sure how much time passes as you pour drinks and make jokes with Penny. You’re feeling a lot lighter about being on this side of the bar with a bit of tequila in your system, and you honestly feel like it’s making you even better at your job. You’re more bubbly, more willing to talk nonsense with chatty patrons, and you’re actually looking forward to seeing your friends perform some embarrassing karaoke.

“Okay, gorgeous.” Jake thrums his hands against the bar. “We’re going to need a round of shots to get Fanboy up there kicking the night off.”

You smile at him and nod. “Go sit down, I’ll bring it over.”

Penny is already arranging a tray with a bunch of shot glasses on it. You count them. “Eight?”

She nods. “I’m turning a blind eye tonight.”

You wedge a bottle of tequila under one arm and take the tray with both hands. “You know what, Pen? I think you would have been an absolute blast in your twenties.”

She rolls her eyes playfully and places a hand on each of your shoulders. “Trust me, I was.”

You can’t help the giggles that bubble from your lips as she turns you around and steers you toward the swinging wooden doors. You carefully make your way weaving through the groups of people toward your friends, who all cheer when you drop the tray of shot glasses on their table.

Bradley is sitting on the end of the booth seat to your right, and your knee brushes against the outside of his thigh as you bend over to start pouring the tequila. You can feel his eyes on your profile, but you don’t dare look his way. You’re too close and he’s had too many drinks. You lost count about half an hour ago and made a mental note to swipe his keys as soon as you get the chance.

“Alright, boys and girls.” You slide the tray into the middle of the table. “No funny faces. I want you all to swallow like Seresin on a Saturday night.” You pick up your own shot, shoot a wink at Jake, and tip it to your lips. The liquor hits the back of your throat and burns all the way down before sizzling in your empty stomach. You should really try and eat something soon.

When you look back at the group, they’ve all got their heads tipped back and the little glasses pressed to their lips. Your eyes fall immediately to the man beside you, watching the column of his tan throat as he swallows. With the tequila swirling through your body, you’re starting to feel a little feral, like you could just sink your teeth into him right here. Right now.

“Okay, one more!” Mickey exclaims, slamming the shot glass back on the table. “Then I’m doing Dancing Queen.”

There’s a mixture of groans and laughter from the squad.

“Dancing Queen?” Jake echoes. “That’s so overdone.”

Mickey throws him a scowl. “I don’t care. I’m feeling young and sweet, only seventeen.”

You laugh through your nose as you concentrate on pouring another round, leaving yourself out this time. You have to lean a little further over the table, and thanks to the most recent nip of tequila rushing to your head, you almost lose balance. But before you can fall forward, a warm hand grabs the back of your thigh, just above your knee. It squeezes tight, almost too tight, and holds you steady.

All the air leaves your lungs in one quick whoosh. You know who’s hand it is, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He’s too delicious right now. A little drunk, hair mussed, sunglasses perched low on his nose, and that stupid, gorgeous grin tugging at his lips. Yeah. If you turn around, you might not be able to stop yourself from mounting him right here in front of everyone.

“Here you go.” You stand back up straight, but his hand doesn’t move. Not even as he reaches forward, picks up a shot, clinks it with the others, and tips it into his mouth.

The squad, now very well lubricated, launch back into discussion about whether or not Dancing Queen is a good enough debut song for Mickey tonight. You laugh along with them as you gather the glasses onto the tray, but when you go to wedge the tequila bottle under your arm again, Bradley stops you.

He grabs the bottle and stands up, forcing you back a step from the table. “I’ll give you a hand.”

You nod and turn on your heel. You’ll let him give you a hand, however he wants to lend a hand. Literally, any way he wants to give you a hand, you’re willing.

As you walk back toward the bar, you internally scold yourself for letting your thoughts run rampant. Part of you blames the tequila, and another part blames Bradley for how downright sinful he is looking tonight. But you know it’s mostly yourself who’s to blame. Your own stupid brain that too often fantasises about what it’d be like if Bradley felt the same way about you that you feel about him.

You stop at the back end of the bar, away from where Penny is serving, and put the tray of glasses down before turning to Bradley. “Thanks for that.”

He nods. “Anything for you.”

You take the bottle and put it on the bar. “Anything?”

He nods again, his eyes half hooded behind his sunglasses. You roll your lips and let your eyes trail down the front of him, appreciating the deep neckline of the singlet beneath his open Hawaiian shirt, and the smattering of hair that peaks out just below his clavicle.

You take half a step forward, eyes trailing back up. “Anything at all?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and his head drops to look at you. “Anything.”

“Well...” you sigh, your voice barely above a whisper. “What to pick.”

There’s less than two inches of space between your bodies, and you have to concentrate to stop your hand from trembling as your fingertips dance along his belt. His chest is starting to rise and fall a little faster, and you can’t help the smirk that stretches across your lips as you dip your hand into his pocket.

He draws a quick, sharp breath, and you pull your hand back out with his keys pinched between your fingers. “Looks like you’re catching a cab tonight, Bradshaw.”

He lets go of that breath and chuckles, his whole body relaxing. “You wanted my keys?"

You nod and take a step back, trying to ignore how hot your cheeks are.

“You could have just asked."

You shrug one shoulder as you turn to walk away. “I like getting you all flustered.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you retreat toward the doors that lead behind the bar, so you let your hips sway a little extra from side to side. You don’t know it yet, but you’re definitely going to pay for that little stunt later.

You step up beside Penny and immediately start serving, keeping your focus on the customers in front of you rather than thinking about the way Bradley had just practically melted under your touch. It’s only because he’s drunk, right?

After a minute or so, you see Mickey stand up and walk across the bar. The squad are all cheering and gathering their drinks to follow him. He doesn’t look apprehensive or worried, he looks excited. You watch him turn on the karaoke machine and don’t bother going to help, because he’s done this over a dozen times before. Jake walks past his friend toward the jukebox and unplugs it. The music cuts out and every head in the room turns to Mickey. He grins, clears his throat into the microphone, and then the iconic opening to ABBA’s Dancing Queen blasts through the speakers.

It barely takes ten words for the rest of the bar to start chanting along, and you realise that this might have been his plan all along. He’s not stupid, he knows the drunks can’t resist ABBA, and what better way to break the ice than to get the whole room singing along.

The song eventually ends with Jake and Reuben up beside him, all shouting into the microphone without an ounce of talent. You make a mental note to tease Jake about this later. Overdone, my ass.

You lose yourself to pouring beer once again as people demand more drinks so they can get up and embarrass themselves too. The squad practically man the karaoke machine, and more often than not end up alongside the singer toward the end of the songs. They’re all so drunk and so happy, you can’t help but laugh.

Mickey and Natasha sing Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero, and then Jake and Javy sing Natasha Bedingfield’s Unwritten. There’s a lot of ABBA and Queen from patrons you don’t recognise, and then the squad cause a huge scene trying to get Maverick up for a song. He refuses until they drag him up to the bar for another round of shots, and then they all perform Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

After that, Mickey, Natasha, and an adorably drunk Bob sing Cherry Bomb by The Runaways. You’re not sure you’ve seen Bob drunk more than once before, but it’s possibly the cutest thing in the world to see him red-faced and stumbling over words while bopping his head to the beat of the song.

You’re cleaning a glass and giggling when Bradley and Reuben step up to the bar. “Beer or tequila?”

Reuben chuckles, his grin looking strangely conspiratorial. “Both.”

You tip your lips into a downward smile and nod your head. “Trying not to lose momentum?”

“Rooster has a big number coming up.” Reuben elbows a very sheepish looking Bradley. “He needs his liquid courage.”

You nod, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “I was wondering when I was going to see you up there. You’re usually one of the first.”

He chuckles, but you can sense that he’s nervous. About what, you have no idea. Bradley is one of the only ones with a modicum of talent. He’s that charming guy with a decent voice who everyone regrets inviting to karaoke night because he actually sounds decent.

“Well,” you say, sliding two shots across the bar, “good luck.”

They both sink the shots and scoop up their beers. Reuben pays, winks at you, and clasps Bradley on the shoulder as they walk back over to the group. You want to wonder more about why Bradley could possibly be so anxious, but you don’t have any time before Penny hands you a slip of paper for an order of cocktails.

Another two songs pass while you make the drinks and deliver them to the table where Giggles and her friends are waiting. She has a twisted smirk on her face as you place the glass in front of her, and a part of you wishes you’d known so you could have spit it one of the cocktails.

You give her your widest, cheesiest smile before turning around and walking back toward the bar. You’re about halfway there when you see Reuben shove the microphone into Bradley’s hand and push him toward the front of the crowd. He doesn’t look so nervous anymore – he still looks like sex on legs – and he’s laughing as the sound of tambourines fill the speakers.

You cheer along with the crowd, holding the empty drinks tray under one arm so you can clap. You’re only a few feet from the front of the bar, so you look at Penny with raised brows as if to ask if she needs you, but she shakes her head and waves a dismissive hand, silently telling you to watch the show. But the smirk on her lips makes you think she might know something you don’t.

When you look back at Bradley, he’s got Natasha up on one side and Mickey on the other. They’re dancing like loons as the drumbeat kicks in, and then they all start playing the air guitar as soon as the familiar riff blares through the speakers.

Bradley’s glasses are perched low on his nose, his grin so wide you can’t help but grin too, and as he brings the microphone up to his lips, you wonder if this man might have been a rockstar in another life. “So one, two, three, take my hand and come with me, because you look so fine, that I really wanna make you mine.”

Something between a giggle and a shriek leaves your lips when Jake and Reuben pop up beside you. Reuben grabs your wrist and drags you forward into the crowd, while Jake yanks the drinks tray from under arm. You go with them willingly, dancing and laughing with your friends who you’ve never seen so carefree. You could definitely get used to being on this side of the bar.

The rest of the squad are up beside Bradley now, playing the air guitar and banging their heads like maniacs. You stop right in front of him, staring up at him like he’s a god, and he turns to look right at you as he sings. “Now you don’t need the money, when you look like that, do ya, honey?”

Another shriek splits from your lips when he grabs your hand and yanks you toward him. You almost crash into him, but he’s too smooth to let that happen. He lets go of your hand and wraps an arm around your waist, catching you and holding you against him.

“Big black boots.” He tips his head and winks at you over his sunglasses. “Long brown hair.” He leans back as Javy leans over his shoulder, and they sing together. “She’s so sweet with her get-back stare.”

The others crowd around as the chorus kicks in, and you all shout the lyrics along with the rest of the bar. But Bradley doesn’t let you go. He keeps his arm around you, still allowing you to dance but not without rubbing a part of your body against his.

The chorus finishes and the room goes quiet except for the backing track. Bradley drops his head forward again, watching you over the frame of his sunglasses as he sings. “I said, are you gonna be my girl?”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you know your cheeks are redder than a maraschino cherry. The room cheers and Bradley chuckles. Everyone starts dancing and playing the air guitar again, and Mickey and Reuben lean toward the microphone to sing the start of the next verse with Bradley.

There’s another quick guitar break where Bradley turns back to you, a light sheen of sweat covering his exposed skin. “I say you look so fine, that I really wanna make you mine.”

Your head spins. If it weren’t for his arm, you’re almost positive you’d be passed out on the floor.

Mickey and Reuben join back in for the next verse, but their voices are lost in the sea of singing from the whole bar. You don’t dare look out at the crowd though, you’re already nervous enough being held against a very sweaty and very delicious man.

When the verse ends, the whole squad turn to you, point at your feet, and shout-sing. “Big black boots!”

You roll your eyes and laugh before joining in on the chorus. But just like before, when the chorus finishes, everyone stops singing along as if they’ve been told to. Bradley squeezes you even closer, sounding a little out of breath as he sings, “I said, are you gonna be my girl?”

The guitar returns almost immediately, and Bradley finally lets you go to clap along with the song. The squad all clap too, and the whole bar claps and stomps their feet to the beat. You can feel the floor shaking.

Bradley holds the microphone up to Mickey and he shouts, “Oh, yeah!”

Bradley then moves it along the line to Reuben. “C’mon!”

The clapping and stomping doesn’t stop. The energy is so high, you’ve never experienced a karaoke Friday like this, and you know it’s not just the tequila to blame. Something about tonight is a little bit electric.

For the final chorus, everyone shouts as loud as they can. Bradley holds the microphone, but it's useless at this point. The only reason you can hear him is because he’s right next to you, an arm wrapped around your waist again.

“Be my girl,” the room shouts.

Bradley winks at you, and everyone echoes again, “Be my girl!”

He holds the microphone above his head as everyone screams the final line of the song. “Are you gonna be my girl, yeah!”

The backing track fades and everyone cheers, louder than you’ve ever heard. You can’t stop giggling, and you can’t look at anything except the gorgeous man grinning down at you. The noise from the rest of the bar fades away as you stare at him, tracing the lines on his face and licking your lips when you see a small droplet of sweat fall from his hairline.

Then the noise slowly returns. It’s different from before, louder somehow. Organised. It’s a chant. The whole bar is chanting. At you.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your heart is beating so violently against your ribcage, it’s making your whole skeleton shake. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks are red. You’re paralysed. You want to reach up, but you can’t. You want to kiss him, but you can’t make yourself for the fear of rejection.

Bradley chuckles, his voice raspy from singing. “I like getting you all flustered too.”

Then his lips are on yours, hard and soft all at once. He urges against you and then eases back, letting you fall into him. He tastes like beer and sweat, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your whole life. His other arm wraps around your body to pull you impossibly close. There’s cheering, but you can barely hear it over the thrum of your pulse in your ears.

Your hands find their way up his body and into his hair, threading your fingers through his locks. He pushes forward again, forcing you to tip your head back so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan softly. But then he’s gone. He stands up straight and chuckles again, because you’re wearing the most indignant frown. To him, you look adorable.

“As much as I’d love to keep going,” he rasps, “maybe not in front of the whole bar.”

The reality of where you are comes crashing down, and you quickly pull yourself out of his arms. He catches your hand though, linking your fingers together as he follows you out of the spotlight. He stops you before you can slip through the bar’s wooden doors, tugging on your arm so you turn to face him.

“So,” he says, brows raised. “What’s your answer?”

You frown. “Answer to what?”

He nods back toward where you’d just been singing your hearts out, and your eyes go wide.

“Wait, you were-”

Before you can finish, he surges forward and captures your lips again. You stumble but he catches you, one large hand on either side of your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, stealing your breath and making your stomach do a whole gymnastics routine.

When he pulls back, your head spins. All you can do is blink at up with a confused frown. “You meant all that?”

He shrugs, his smile turning sheepish. “Why do you think I was so nervous?”

You tip your head back and stare at one of the model planes hanging from the ceiling. “So that’s why you drank so much tonight.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, sober Bradley couldn’t ask you out.”

You nod slowly, your lips tipping up into a smirk. “Is that so?"

He nods.

“Well then, which Bradley do I need to ask to fuck my brains out? Drunk Bradley? Or do I have to wait until-”

“Both,” he interrupts, his voice low and his eyes dark.

His expression is dead serious now, aside from the pink in his cheeks. He almost looks feral as he towers over you, pupils blown with lust and lips puffy.

“Good.” You pat a hand on his chest. “Then if you stick around, I’ll drive you home.”

You turn and step through the doors into the bar, feeling his eyes burning into your backside as you sway your hips. You work the rest of the night with a smirk on your lips and an ache between your legs. Your friends come and go with teasing comments, but you let them, because all you can think about is Bradley’s predatory stare. He doesn’t let you out of his sight all night, and he looks even deadlier when Romeo approaches for another round of drinks. But the rest of the night passes without incident, and when it finally comes time to close, you actually have to kick a few patrons out.

Bradley waits leaning against the passenger door of your car as Penny locks up. You promise her you’ll be there in the morning to help clean, but the knowing smirk on her lips when she sees Bradley at your car definitely means that she doesn’t believe you.

You give her a little wave as she heads off toward her car and you walk toward yours. When you walk past Bradley, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you toward him.

“Hey,” he says quickly, before kissing you again.

You push up onto your toes as you kiss him back.

“You know,” he murmurs against your mouth, “this isn’t just one night.”

Your heart kicks into overdrive again, trying to crack your sternum.

“I want you. All of you. I have for God knows how long, and I’ve been too chickenshit to do anything about it. But I need you to know that this isn’t a onetime thing and it’s not just because I’ve had a few drinks. This is it. You and me.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to convince yourself that you’re not dreaming. When you open your eyes and look up at him, your heart swells so much it feels like it might burst.

“I want you too. All of you.”

He grins and swoops down to kiss you again, only quickly. “Good. Now let’s go, I have to fuck your brains out, remember?”

You roll your eyes despite your burning cheeks. “Yeah, you do.”

As you walk around the front of your car on wobbly legs, he adds, “Oh, and you should probably tell Penny that you won’t be here in the morning. You’ll still be getting your brains fucked out.”

END.

[oblique-lane]

Spy tf2 and his identity

Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)

What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.

At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?

What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?

For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?

While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?

Let's start from the beginning.

Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?

Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.

The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.

Well, probably because he really does not.

Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.

At least, not those who were born into wealth.

Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.

(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)

Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.

If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.

So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.

Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?

Oh yeah. The Great Depression.

See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.

Unavoidably, it leads to crime.

Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.

In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.

And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?

His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.

It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

[i2rizz]

ok so you already did a bachira and ness version of “no way he pulled that.”

i really really want a rin version if that’s fine? his gf is just the total opposite of him, all sunshine and rainbows with a charming and radiant smile like the sun while rin is like the moon lol. i think the dynamic is cute and it’s hard to believe a guy like rin would have a girl like her. 😼‼️

Ts is so cutee!!

Btw sorry for the wait for all of you who have requested smth! I did mention im a student so sometimes i just dont have time for hobbies!

No Way He Pulled That Pt.3

No one in the Neo Egoist League believed Rin Itoshi had a girlfriend.

To be fair, he hadn't given them much to go on. He never showed photos. Never talked about her. Never so much as acknowledged the concept of romance. When the other players from PXG or Bastard München bragged about DMs or fangirls, Rin just rolled his eyes and walked away.

So when Aryu casually asked if he’d be staying behind for a hangout w all the guys, Rin shrugged once and muttered, “Can’t. She’s waiting for a call”

It was like dropping a lit match in a room full of gasoline.

Reo paused in the middle of a shoulder stretch. “She who?”

“My girlfriend”

Chigiri actually choked on his protein shake. “You? A girlfriend? Are we calling sleep paralysis demons girlfriends now?”

“Is she imaginary?” Nagi asked from where he was lying on the floor. “Do we clap to summon her or…?”

Kaiser laughed like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “Come on, Itoshi. No girl survives that personality”

Rin didn’t even bother with a rebuttal. He just signed and walked away.

So of course, when Ego gave the players a surprise rest day and mentioned a beach day for all the stratums, everyone jumped at the chance.

Except Rin.

Until he heard you'd be there.

The beach was loud with yelling, sunscreen smells, and the sound of overly competitive volleyball matches echoing through the court. Kaiser had already roped Ness into a game with Reo and Chigiri, while Isagi looked like he was two seconds from treating it like a World Cup final.

Rin stood far off to the side, arms crossed, shades on, unmoving.

Someone bumped his shoulder on purpose.

“You waiting for your imaginary girlfriend?” Reo teased with a grin. “I think she’s late”

Rin didn’t even blink.

Then—

WHACK!

A volleyball slammed down onto the court. It bounced once, twice, and rolled toward the sidelines. All heads turned, expecting to see Shidou or Bachira doing a cartwheel or smth

Instead, they saw someone.

You.

On the opposite side of the court, glowing under the sun like something out of a dream. You wore a sporty two-piece and high-waisted shorts, eyes bright, skin sun-kissed, smile lazy and warm like a summer afternoon. You jogged over to retrieve the ball, your hair bouncing with every step, sweat glinting like gold on your collarbone. The strings of your swim top peeked from under your tank, but you didn’t seem to notice or care.

Someone—maybe Reo, maybe Isagi—whispered a stunned “whoa”

“Who the hell is that?” Kaiser asked, lowering his sunglasses.

But Rin was already moving.

He crossed the sand like he’d done it a hundred times, ignoring everyone’s stunned expressions.

And when you looked up—

Your whole face lit up.

“Rinnie!!”

You ran to him, volleyball forgotten. Sand kicked up behind you as you jumped slightly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He caught you easily, hands firm on your waist.

“You’re here!” you said, breathless with excitement, brushing his hair back. “I thought you wont go”

“They dragged me,” he murmured, voice low. But his hand never left your side. “You’re… tan”

You grinned. “You’re squinting. That’s a compliment, right?”

Behind you, the boys looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“That’s her?”

“There’s no way”

“She’s literally glowing—is that legal??”

“She called him Rinnie. Bro didn’t even flinch”

“Not even I could pull that,” Aiku muttered.

“I need to sit down,” Ness whispered.

You finally turned, looking toward the stunned group. “Oh! These must be your friends”

Rin’s eye twitched. “No”

You waved anyway, giving them a dazzling smile. “Hi! I’m [Name]—I’ve heard so much about you all!”

You weren’t shy. You weren’t awkward. You were nothing like they imagined.

And Rin?

He did NOT pull away from your side once.

[emilywaters]

Bluelock headcanons except it's the bluelock TV fandom

• rin and sae stans have crazy beef. You know they were making edits to 'the winner takes it all' by abba after the u20 match and sae stans were commenting 'womp womp' and similar sentiments

• There are 3 kinds of players regarding ships,

1. Actively feeds (trolls) the shippers (eg: hiori)

2. Unintentionally feeds the shippers (eg: isagi, rin, otoya)

3. Reonagi and ryusae

• someone started a petition to eliminate isagi from bluelock for 'unsportsmanlike behaviour' and spread it around to get signatures

• Ness has an alt account that's just an isagi hate page

• he did not start the petition but by gods did he spread it around (lowkey was jealous he hadn't thought of it first)

• ego has a tumblr blog and that's his only social media page

• the name is 'actuallyegojinpachi' but his pfp is one of those ego pictures with an edited on pink sparkly bow so no one believes him

• he actively spreads misinformation and bullshit theories so no one believes him even when he reveals real info

• it's crazy popular, and he exists as one of the starting pillars of the fandom

• nagi regularly retweets fanart of him and reo, so it's just gaming, gaming, gaming, reo oiled up wearing a collar on his knees, gaming, gaming

• literally every product yukimiya has worked with sold out overnight after his debut on bastard munchen (including a toothpaste brand for old people)

• There was a frenzied search for whatever no name brand shampoo and conditioner bluelock has after chigiri let it slip in some interview that his hair care was literally only whatever was there.

• kunigami fans have pfps of him edited with like emo stuff (think dark eyeshadow, chains etc)

• There was a character lookalike contest and chigiri's sister won as him

• there's a twitter page that's does a 'x days since reonagi miscommunication bullshit'

• aryu is a Pinterest girl kaneshiro told me in a dream

• There is a dedicated subreddit for 'bluelock TV milfs'

[stormsthatrage]

I love the idea that, at some point in the course of his public education, Danny just straight up stops trying to hide his ghostly-ness from his peers.

Like, he never goes ghost in front of his classmates, and he's not wandering around talking about his secret, but also he's not trying to hide the fact that he's drinking glowing, radioactive-green goop during lunch which they all can recognize by now as ectoplasm, Danny, that stuff is incredibly toxic to humans!

He never explicitly uses his powers, but also, you know, he doesn't wait for Dash to leave before phasing out of the locker he's been shoved in. Dash turns away from the latest round of hide-the-nerd-in-a-small-dark-space, takes one step down the hall, and hears a noise behind him. When Dash turns back around there Danny is, free of the still locked locker, in the process of unlocking it to get his books for next class.

One time Danny gets sick and explodes a desk with his voice.

Everyone in the school knows he's part ghost, and most people have deduced that he's Phantom, but no one's going to be telling adults that. (Except Lancer, to whom they say shit like, "Danny, Sam, and Tucker are going to be tardy. Danny sneezed in the hallway and now they're trying to melt all the ice off the floor." Lancer is suffering, but by all the powers that may be, he is doing his best to pretend he's oblivious.)

[marikosfragrance]

"Who would be good with kids?"

Characters : Various characters

REQUESTED

Content : which of the characters would be great with kids, or bad, and why?

Note : PLEASE UNDERSTAND I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM INTERACT WITH KIDS, EXCEPT FOR SOME LIKE ISAGI. SO SOME CHARACTERS MIGHT FEEL OFF FOR YOU. Characters dont belong to me. Made this while keeping the canonical edge, enjoy reading, mwah.

Would be good with kids, kids would love him, and he would love them. He is open and is polite. I can see him even playing with them or knowing exactly what to do in certain situations involving kids. I can also imagine kids asking him for autographs, and he would gladly do it, smiling at them too. No complains on their parts when it comes to kids.

Isagi, Reo, Nanase, Kurona, Karasu, Oliver, Bachira, Hiori, Kunigami, Chigiri, Ness, Chris (maybe)

Kids would love him, but he wouldn't care either way. He is the type that kids look up to, but he doesn't necessarily seek their attention, for him kids aren't annoying but aren't exactly desirable either. They are just there.

Sendou (maybe), Sae, Michael, Noel Noa, Loki

He doesn't dislike kids, but kids are scared of him. It could be from the way he approaches them, or how he presents himself. Like from the first impression— his expression scares them away. Or perhaps its the way he handles himself on the field? He knows how to take care of kids and doesnt exactly hates them, but unless the kids are willing to give him a chance, they might be too frightened to come close.

Barou, Aiki (maybe), Rin (maybe), Dada

He doesn't like kids. Or maybe he does, but I doubt he would like it If they were all over him, especially if the kid is all annoying and stuff. He wouldn't outright hate on the kid, but he wouldn't want them near him. He might even scare them off. And kids are either afraid of him, or uncomfortable around him, so either way, it is a mutual thing.

Luna, Adam, Ego, Nagi (maybe), Otoya (maybe),

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° my boyfriend...and his boyfriend

♡ a/n — a little drabble ( i still hate kaiser, if anyone cares )

♡ word count — 274

♡ content — alexis ness x reader, kaiser mentioned (too much for my liking), i'm tagging this as kaiser x reader but it's not, silliness, not proofread

♡ synopsis — you loved your boyfriend alexis ness, every part of him. except for one. his stupid ass 'best friend' michael kaiser.

if you were to warn yourself a year ago- when your relationship with alexis ness started- would look like this...you weren't sure you'd be able to make the decision to stay.

yes, you loved ness with everything you had.

and when it was just the two of you, it was great! your friday nights were usually taken up by watching some cringey rom-com and laughing as the two of you cuddled under a shared blanket.

not this friday though.

this friday, ness for whatever reason invited the one person he knew you couldn't stand to join you for movie night.

michael kaiser.

now here you were, watching some history movie- shoved in a corner of your own couch while your boyfriend sits directly next to his best friend.

if you didn't know any better, you'd assume ness looked more like he loved kaiser more than you at the moment.

when the movie finally ended, you were relieved, getting up from the couch, "well, goodnight kaiser-"

"oh! i told him he could stay the night! since we have early practice tomorrow." ness smiled as he looked at you, not an ounce of apology.

it was barely 8 pm, kaiser could go home and be much more comfortable than he would if he stayed on your pull out bed in the guest room.

you looked at the monster- kaiser standing up and staring right back at you, "well, i'm hungry. how about dinner?"

yeah right

you'd rather die than watch your own boyfriend make puppy dog eyes at someone you deemed was your arch-nemesis.

even if he saw you as nothing more than ness's girlfriend.

my kaiser hate agenda will go far.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato , join the taglist here!

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇����𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄?, 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒... | sae, kaiser, rin

SAE ITOSHI - for me, you never left

... wish you'd let me stay, i'm ready now 🎶

It was complicated for you to explain your relationship with the prodigy of Japan, the one who most commonly for you was Sae. Everyone looked at him for what he actually was, that is, the lethal midfielder of ReAl, the ace who refused to play for his country; but to you, he was simply the boy your father coached on your prefecture's soccer team. It had always been like this, even now that he had no longer lived in Japan for some years, even now that the crush you had kept secret from him for practically always was finally getting over you after years of suffering

You knew he had cut ties with everyone, from his Japanese teammates to his family, but nothing had ever changed with you. From the first day he arrived in Spain until today, your relationship had never had any problems: you spoke every day, called, everything. For you, Sae Itoshi had never left the another country to pursue his dream

He was jealous of you, even though he never admitted it. He was jealous if you told him that Rin had helped you repeat english that day, if you told him that a boy from your school had left a note in your locker on Valentine's Day. He didn't admit it, but you knew his habits, and you noticed

In fact, you could say that on the one hand your relationship had changed, but you couldn't say whether in a good way or not: your intimacy with each other. You didn't even know why Sae often called you at night, the black circles under his eyes that you immediately noticed, but he had never dared to tell you the reason for all this tiredness that was reflected on his body

"I'm damn tired of studying. In less than a few months I'll finally finish the session tho"

"You could come to Spain"

"I don't have the money to do it, you know. I would have to pay for the place and airfare"

“I simply asked you if you would like to come. I didn't mention money"

"As if you paid me everything"

"And that's what I'll do. I want to see you here in a month, understood?"

These were not gestures that friends made, especially considering the large sum of money involved, a sum that you would not have been able to pay him back even if you had worked all your life. Yet he wanted you there, to see you after a long time. Maybe your crush on him hadn't definitively passed, now that you were about to sleep in the same bed as him due to the arrangement he had made for you

MICHEAL KAISER - my first in everything

... face it, you want it, you crave it 🎶

It's not normal to be so physically attached to the one who was always the child who shoplifted from your mother's shop, all those years ago: it's not normal that he was your first kiss, your first serious fight, your first time. It is not normal that a person with whom you shared such things is not your boyfriend. And even less normal that he refuses human contact with everyone except you

You had decided together to share these important steps together, saying that you would never trust another to do something so important. And you never regretted it

But Micheal has always been like this, since he was a child: he started to hate physical contact right away, but with you he never had any problems taking your hand, hugging you, lifting your chin when you kept your gaze down. Him, who hates it when even Ness touches his shoulder, having no problem yelling at him

But with you Kaiser cried until dawn in your arms, so many times that you struggle to remember the exact number. With you he never had any problems treating you as if you were his wife, even though you weren't even his girlfriend. With you he never had any problems wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you, making you decide which arm he should get his tattoo on. With you he has never been any problem in treating you as if you were his precious diamond, his impossible but possible blue rose. With you, it's always yes

"Every time I remember crying in your arms I feel like a piece of shit, absolutely pathetic. Yet I'm in your arms, and so I feel a little less sorry"

"I'm sorry when you can't vent, however. I would like to help you more often"

"You talk like you're not the only one I cry to. Maybe you're as pathetic as me, but I like it, you don't know how much. Continue to be, continue to be beautiful and a good girl for me, yeah?"

His team, Ness, his fans, everyone thought you were already a couple. You were, more or less, or at least the gestures represented this... but you had never talked about it, never

Yet, you wondered if you were really just friends, because friends don't end up in each other's bed at least once a month. Maybe you weren't friends, maybe he wasn't ready, maybe you weren't ready

Maybe he wasn't ready to tell you that you were always the one, from the first moment he laid his eyes on you. Maybe you weren't ready to tell him that you loved him. Maybe you were both simply afraid to tell the truth for fear that the other would take it badly. But you wanted and craved it

RIN ITOSHI - dating, but my heart is yours

... just tell me what you're doing with that other guy 🎶

After having dreamed all your life of becoming the girlfriend of Rin Itoshi, the genius of the school and the prefecture, you didn't know why you found yourself squeezing Nagi Seishiro's hand as you walked through the corridors. Even after confessing to Rin, you were now dating to none other than the lazy genius, your brother's best friend. And you were happy, more or less

You knew Rin from your shared classes, plus he had been playing in the field right below your class for a long time, giving you the chance to observe him a lot more. And so, you soon found yourself falling in love with him, perhaps a little too much for your brother's tastes, who however never said he was against it. You and Rin looked at each other often, both in the hallways and during class. Often his hand lingered a little too long on yours when he showed you how to write that particular word in english, perhaps feeling his hand on your thigh a few times during lessons was like dying and ending up in heaven

Maybe it wasn't normal for him to wait for you at the end of class to walk from your class to the gate together. Maybe it wasn't normal that he gave you his jersey with his name written on it

And at a certain point, you declared yourself. And you had kissed, but from that moment on neither of you had dared to do anything else. This way you understood that he wasn't really interested, otherwise he would have given you confirmation that he was your boyfriend... right?

And so a few months later, you had agreed to go on a date with Nagi, and you started to like him, you couldn't say otherwise: as lazy as he was, he was extremely sweet to you. And so you had decided to make it official, especially knowing that Reo would be happy about it

But making it official means saying it, proving it, even to the boy who nevertheless occupied a part of your heart that you knew Nagi couldn't occupy

But Rin had already noticed it for a while

"Are you happy? With him, I mean"

"I am. I certainly am"

"I'm happy about it. Enjoy this feeling"

"You say it like you don't know that I love you"

"And you act like you don't know how I feel"

Nagi was stable, maybe one day he could even become your husband if he continued to be so sweet; and honestly, you didn't mind the idea. But Rin had been making your heart unstable for years, even in moments when you thought you had everything under control, moments like this

And the feeling of adventure was something the lazy genius you knew couldn't give you, neither now nor when married, if it ever happened

this shit is so ass im gonna cry (i want to delete it)

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[champbot]

B33 < finalllyyyy finished my beta troll headcaon lineup!! furst things furst, my ask box is open for Beta troll + kids drawing requests!! I need to purractice drawing the sillies

alsooo feel like mentioning, these hc’s are for the early half of the game - I am gonna draw their adult + post game looks because thoseee headcanons are different

like for example!! I hc aradia gaining a lot of weight after no longer inhabiting her robo bod! Eridan being able to express their gender identity in the dream bubbles!

Tbf the art is sort of old, and I already want to update my designs but whatevs

Hcs under the cut…. B33

Here’s my personal headcanons, don’t start shit, if you don’t like, you can make ur own post with ur own hcs BDD

Aradia Medigo - transfem aroace spec

~ Struggles with persistent depression but is recovering slowly

~ Puts on weight after the game

~ ASD

Tavros Nitram - transmasc polysexual

~ bulks up during the game!

~ Legs are prosthetics, he still uses their chair on rougher days

~ anxiety and ptsd, struggles with unhealthy attachments (clearly)

Sollux Captor - nonbinary pan

~ Also ASD + Bipolar

~ Acne scars!!

~ Lisp is from crooked teeth

Karkat Vantas - Nonbinary he/himmer, poly with masc pref

~ Super repressed about gender during the game, Jegbert helps with coming to terms with things

~ Anger issues as a response to traumatic living conditions on alternia

~ Adult him is very fat and hairy :)

Nepeta Leijon - transmasc trixic

~ Comes out during the game

~ ASD and ADHD, cannot mask well

~ Looks tiny and weak but could bench press you (cuz its funny)

Kanaya Maryam - femby lesbian (she wears binders :o

~ total vegan till she goes rainbowdrinker

~ binds regularly, prefers a flat silhouette

~ gender + sexuality relationship is unique due to pansexual being the societies default

Terezi Pyrope - Transfem queer

~ does not shave, ever under any circumstances

~ OCD, has a lotttt of rituals

~ transed her gender pre game due to flarping

Vriska Serket - Transfem lesbian

~ ASPD, doing treatment, symptoms lesson as she gets older

~ has severe scarring on her left side, when she is younger she hides scarring via makeup and long clothes cuz teenage insecurity she grows out of

~ same as terezi, flarping helped her come out, terezi and her are very close cuz of this similarity

Equius Zahhak - Agender asexual

~ hypersexual and sex repulsed

~ ASD, also bad at masking, hence why meowrails get along so well

~ has hyperhydrosis

Gamzee Makara - nonbinary ??????

~ bpd, he tends to split on people accidentally, Karkat is his fp :)

~ disassociates often, memory is poor and has slow processing because his thoughts always feel crowding

~ his abuse of sopor pies is a coping mechanism, helps with his sensory issues

Eridan Ampora - Genderfluid pan

~ definitely was a really obnoxious femboy at one point before coming out

~ a lot of their incel-ness comes from repressing their gender

~ ASD, really bad at reading other people

Feferi Peixes - demigirl pan

~ if kanaya is alternia goth, then Fef definitely is, big into counterculture

~ ASD, hyperempath, way too good at masking except for when she’s overtly excited

~ is a vegan, feels incredibly guilty for feeding her lusus

Anyways…. If you read all that congrats lollll