#I kid around about how hot he is but I’m so very proud of him

[slutfortheeclaymore]

A man who is truly living his best life right now! Great things happen to amazing human beings! 💙🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS

꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)

⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

⪩　 　  ₊　    🍪 　 　✧ 　 　⁺

“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”

“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.

“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.

“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”

“is your name toji fushiguro?”

“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”

the woman simply stares at him.

“..alright then…”

the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”

TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH

YOUR CAREER

“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”

toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”

“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”

“hm.”

the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”

toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”

“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.

toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.

“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”

“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”

he looks at the examiner.

“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.

“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”

“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”

toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”

the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”

“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.

toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”

“would you consider yourself fit?”

“yep. ‘hundred percent.”

“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”

“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”

he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.

“he is being truthful..again.”

toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”

POP CULTURE

“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.

toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”

“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.

toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”

“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”

“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”

the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”

“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”

LOVE LIFE

toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.

“do you want to get married in the future?”

“yeah, yeah i do.”

the examiner nods.

“have you ever been in love?”

“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.

the examiner nods again.

“are you in love right now?”

toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”

the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”

“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.

“is there someone you’re in love with?”

“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”

“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.

toji sighs. “oh, brother…”

“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”

“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.

“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”

“christ…”

the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”

“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.

“are you in love with any of these people?”

toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”

“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”

“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”

“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”

toji grumbles.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000

a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’ 

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 

‘hmmn?’ 

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

[remlionheart]

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous ���say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

[letstevengrantsleep]

I’ll make you mine

Spencer Reid x f!reader

Summary: Dr Spencer Reid is your professor. You’re very attractive professor. After a botched awards evening you bump into him on campus, and well… things get heated from there.

Word count: 3543

Warnings: nsfw 18+ content, student/professor dynamic, dom/sub dynamic kinda, ownership kinda, use of “baby” and “good girl”, implied m receiving oral, begging, confessions of feelings, ANGST, fluff

A/n: please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings and I’ll add them on, thanks 🌞

masterlist

From behind you, you hear your name being spoken and in a flash you spin on your heel to be faced with Dr Reid, a friendly face on this otherwise dismal evening. He looks incredible, as always.

“Professor!” You blush, suddenly self conscious about the satin dress you’re in, realising it’s not your usual university attire. “How lovely to see you!”

“Oh of course,” he speaks, trying his best to seem casual as he takes in what you’re wearing, “I take it you’re going somewhere special dressed like that?” His face turns a shade pinker, and he smiles warily down at you.

“Oh, well, I…” you adjust the spaghetti straps on your dress and smooth it down, trying to cover your modesty. “I’m actually on my way back from an event.”

“Back from an event, eh?” He looks at you from hair to toes again, his eyes lingering on your legs shamelessly as he takes in your appearance. “You’ll have to tell me about it over coffee.”

“Now?” smiling and revelling in the attention he’s giving you, you blush slightly.

“I suppose I could cancel my afternoon meetings. Wouldn’t be the first time I blew them off to spend time with you, and I doubt it will be the last.” Spencer laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Now where do you think we should catch up? My office? Or would you prefer somewhere more public?”

You mull it over, but ultimately decide that you’d rather be away from the prying eyes of others right now.

“Your office sounds just great, professor.” Giving him a small smile, you begin to fidget with the hem of your dress around the high slit that lands mid thigh.

“Excellent!” The professor exclaims, offering out his elbow for you to take, ready to escort you to his office. There’s a small part of his mind that wonders about what the other professors will think if they see the two of you linking arms, but there’s a bigger part that tells him not to care. “You look lovely, by the way, your dress really suits you.”

The blush that creeps onto your face is hot, and you try your best to hide it by looking down at your dress, “you think so? I really didn’t know whether it was my colour, I’ve never worn anything like it before.” A nervous laugh leaves your mouth.

“Are you kidding me? You look great in this colour. But I must say, you look great in any colour.” He smirks, proud of himself, biting back the urge to move in closer to you as you walk.

Laughing, you adjust your hair to try and cover more of your blushed face, “you flatter me, Dr Reid.”

“Dr Reid?” He laughs, shaking his head slightly, “oh no, that’s not going to do.” He looks around before leaning in, sending shivers down your spine from the new proximity. “Just call me Spencer, yeah?”

Nodding, flustered, you test his name on your lips and watch as he takes a deep breath, feeling a flutter in his stomach upon hearing his name from your lips.

Chuckling softly, he opens the door to his office and motions for you to enter, watching as you take a seat in the chair opposite his desk and cross one leg over another. Your dress falling open at the slit and showing your thigh. Spencer takes a seat on the other side of the desk after getting the two of you some coffee. He can’t help but glance at your exposed thigh before looking back at your face.

“So, tell me about this event you were at.”

“Oh, gosh, well,” you settling into the chair and briefly hold your head in your hands, “it was an awards evening for the university. I was meant to be up for an award but, uh, it didn’t really go as planned and I got all dressed up for nothing!” You laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Spencer chuckles back, your laugh is so infectious he can’t help it. “Didn’t go as planned, eh? What happened?”

“Well, the award ended up going to someone else on the course, some guy, I’ve met him a few times in our lectures. He made some sleazy comment about how he could share the award with me if he could…” you hesitate, not wanting to get into the details, “well anyway, I ended up leaving early, that’s all that matters really… which is how I ended up here.” You smile, bashful and nervous about him reading into your statement.

He grimaces before speaking, running his hand through his hair for a second time. “What a jerk… sorry you had to deal with that.” He leans forwards in his desk chair, giving you a sympathetic look. “And you came straight here? Because you wanted to spend some time with someone who would appreciate you?”

Processing what he’s said takes you a second, and you’re somewhat taken aback by how forward he is. “You’re profiling me, Spencer…” you can’t seem to make eye contact with him, choosing instead to stare at your hands as you fidget with them in your lap.

You could swear you see him blush as you call him out, and he clears his throat before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “And if I was?”

Nervously, you add “you’d be right, of course.”

Spencer grins, wide and sincere, “so I was right. You couldn’t wait to spend time with me, could you?”

“Oh come on now Professor, you know you’re the only person in this university who I’d really want to spend any time with.” The teasing tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by the older man.

“Professor? I thought we had an agreement, I’m Spencer. I don’t want to be Professor, just Spencer is good.” He leans forwards, wanting to say something out of pocket but not quite knowing where to start. He’s about to speak when suddenly there’s a knock on the door. “You’re kidding me…” he seems deflated, “what could they possibly want at a time like this?”

Smiling, shy again, you speak up, quiet. “You should probably get that.”

Before you can say anything else, he’s groaning and getting up to head towards the door. Before he does, however, he turns with a finger pointed your way… “You just wait here. I need to you be a good girl and stay, alright? Just sit here until I’m back and don’t say a word.”

You nod, wide eyed and mind racing.

“I won’t be long… you can wait for me, can’t you?”

You nod again, blushing, noticing the sly smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He’s enjoying this.

“Good girl.”

Holy shit. Taking a sharp intake of breath, you stand on shaky legs and make your way over to the bookcase just to the other side of the door, trying to distract yourself from the growing pressure you’re feeling in your core. It’s embarrassing how quickly a man can literally have you weak at the knees. All it takes is some praise and a well fitting suit.

Spencer excuses himself and moves in front of you, leaving the door ajar, whispering so only you can hear him, “you wouldn’t be able to do me a favour would you?”

His tone is calm, and you suspect nothing of it when you nod politely and watch as he leans onto the bookcase next to you.

“Can you keep your mouth shut for me? I mean, really keep your mouth shut. I need you to pretend that you’re not here while I talk with…” he gestures towards the door, “and in return, you’ll get more of my time. Do you understand me?”

Flustered, and quite frankly a little turned on, you nod frantically, watching as he pushes himself off the wall, takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and whispers “good girl” with a smirk. You feel your knees go weak as you lean against the wall, short of breath, watching him move back to the door and pick up his conversation with the colleague on the other side.

It takes you a moment to regain some sense of perspective and compose yourself, watching Spencer as he leans against the door frame. He turns and catches your stare and for a moment there’s a pause, and unspoken connection in the air. Then, with deliberate slowness, Spencer looks away and continues speaking to the person outside. He can practically feel you watching his every movement, and for a moment he wonders what would happen if he turned to you and kissed you. It’s fleeting, but he wonders.

Soon, the other person walks away and Spencer turns his attention to the cup of coffee on his desk, taking a large swig before staring at you with full concentration.

“Come here.” He orders, and you obey with little hesitation, making your way over as he closes the door, leaving the two of you alone once again. Without a word he pulls your body close to his until you’re pressed against him, looking you up and down and letting out a short laugh, as if even he cannot believe the situation you’re both in.

As he takes your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks, he says your name, looking you dead in the eye, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

“Spencer…” you respond, looking up at him with wide eyes, hoping to convey all of the nervousness and excitement you feel for this moment.

He caresses your cheek once again as he uses one hand to move your hair out of your face. Looking into your eyes once again, he finally does what he’s been wanting to do since the moment he laid eyes on you. He kisses you. Passionately, hungrily. Your bodies pressed together, your fingers running through each other’s hair. He smiles as you kiss back, letting out a soft moan as you rake your nails down from his hair to his neck, letting one of his own hands fall to your waist to pull you impossibly closer.

After another beat, Spencer pulls away and glances down at your dress, his eyes focused on the material as his hand traces the slit up your leg, his knuckles grazing your thigh.

Breathless, you whisper against his lips, “you see something you like, Spencer?”

Spencer smirks and leans in once more, whispering against your ear, “all I see is something I can’t have…” as he pulls away he mumbles another word under his breath… “yet.”

Shocked into silence, all you can do is stare at the professor as your face turns a deep shade of red.

“Can you promise me something?” He mumbles against your neck as he kisses and bites at the sensitive skin.

Moaning out a “yes, anything” you wait for his response, grabbing at his hair, his suit jacket, anything to keep you upright.

“Can you promise to keep this just between us? This this stays our little secret?”

You smile, biting your lip as you nod, earning another “good girl” from his lips. You’d do anything to hear those words…

He kisses you again, this time lingering… before he takes himself too far he pulls away once more. “You know we can’t go any further for now, right?”

This earns him a whimper from you, pouting as you try and pull him in for another kiss, but he’s quicker and grabs your chin, holding you back gently, saying your name as he looks you dead in the eye. He’s trying his best to convey just how much restraint it’s taking to stop you right here.

“Do you want me to ruin my career for you?” He asks, lifting your head up to meet his gaze.

Shaking your head, you beg with pleading eyes for something, anything to happen.

“Then we have no choice but to wait, baby.” Spencer stands completely still, the wait of the situation now fully registering with him. “Now, listen. I would love to spend as much time with you as possible. To kiss you like that over and over and over again. But we can’t do that right now, so I want you to show me that you can behave. Show me you can keep this our little secret. Can you do that?”

There’s no point in hiding the blush creeping up again onto your face, it’s so fucking sexy how he talks down to you and all you can do is stand there as he tells you what to do. “I might need a little something to convince me to keep this secret, Spence,” you smile, biting your lip at him.

“Of course you do,” he smirks, moving closer once more, “what will it take to convince you?” Spencer let’s his thumb run along your lower lip and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to take it into your mouth and start sucking.

Taking a broken intake of breath, you bite your lip once more and pull all of the courage you have before closing the distance between kissing him deep and rough. This pulls a small gasp from Spencer and one of his hands run back up into your hair, the other trailing down the back of your dress, pulling you closer as you kiss.

You talk in between kisses, lips still on his as you speak, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Sir… please,” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, you just know that you want more of him. “I’ll keep us a secret, I’ll be your good girl Spencer, just give me more, please.” You grab at Spencer’s tie, walking the two of you back until your back hits the wall, so he’s caging you in.

Soon, you’re both gasping and panting, Spencer’s lips red and swollen. “Baby, we should stop.” He can barely get the words out as you push yourself against the wall and his hands move under your dress. You’re sure he’s right but you can’t help yourself when you pick your foot up and wrap it around his calf, bringing him so close you can barely think straight. “Oh god,” he moans your name, his lips finding yours once more.

You can feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh as he pushes against you. “We…” he can’t get the words out. All he wants is you, all he wants is your lips all over him. The only thought in his mind is giving in to his desires, and as he pulls you closer he whispers into your neck, “I bet you’d feel so good.”

You smirk as you make up your mind, looking him dead in the eye before lowering yourself down onto your knees in front of him. You watch as he bites his lip, heart racing at the sight in front of him.

“What… what are you doing?”

“I want to make you feel good,” you whimper, reaching for Spencer’s belt to unfasten it. He doesn’t try to stop you, his body shaking and trembling as you unclasp his belt.

“You know you’re playing with fire right now…” it’s more of a statement than a question, one that has you smiling up at him as you reach for his zip.

Suddenly he takes a step back, hesitating as he says your name, “please slow down for a second..” his heart skips a beat and he swallows hard, looking down at you in an almost trance-like state.

There’s nothing you can do but look at him, waiting for him to say something…

He takes a deep breath.

“Please. Stop… please.”

The moment he asks, your heart drops into your stomach and he rushes to explain as you get to your feet.

“Baby, I need you. I want you to make me feel good, but my whole career is on the line here and I don’t think you realise how close you are to loosing me. If someone were to find out…” he trails off, unsure.

You blink, eyes going glassy, “I’m sorry Spencer… I-“ you turn to leave, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes.

As soon as you move to back away, Spencer pulls you back, hands gripping your wrists. “Don’t leave me, don’t.” He looks at you, pleading. “I need you to listen to what I’m saying here. You’re doing nothing wrong.” His hand comes up once again to gently touch your chin, bringing your attention back to him. “There is nothing I want more than to give into my desires and let you do anything you want to me. But I cannot and will not risk everything I’ve worked for. Just please understand that I’m asking you to hold on until I’m in the clear, okay?”

You take a sharp intake of breath, quickly becoming flustered from his words, no longer so embarrassed. “You mean that?”

“I would be lying to you if I said any different.” Spencer looks at you for a moment before moving to take your hands in his. “Look at how red the marks on my neck are are from your lips. Look how heavy my breathing is… you felt how much I need you. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you…” he pulls you in towards him, letting out a soft moan and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I swear I will make this up to you. I will spend every waking moment with you and make up for everything I denied you today. My career is important, but so are you. You’re so much more important than you could possibly understand.”

You’re flustered, completely incapable of forming coherent thoughts as you focus on how Spencer’s hand slide down to the small of your back.

“Spencer… when can I have you?” You plead, “I need you…”

“Soon, it’ll be soon. My classes end in two weeks time and I’ll be ready to give you everything the day they do. Until then, try to find some… distractions so you can survive the next two weeks, yeah?”

Groaning like a child, you pout at him due to the mention of two weeks, earning a low chuckle from him as he grabs your face in both his hands.

“Try seeing it from my perspective, okay? I’ve been wanting you for months, wanting you in every single way that you could possibly imagine. The fact that I’ve made it this long is almost miraculous, if I’m being honest…”

Wide eyed, you ask… “months?”

Spencer nods and let’s out a small sigh… “yeah, months. Months and months. And it hasn’t been easy. You have no idea what you do to me, how I feel when you call me ‘sir’, when you bite your lip just like you’re doing right now…”

Blushing, you push him away to save from further embarrassing yourself, earning a dissatisfied noise from Spencer.

“No, no no, you can’t push me away. I need you right here,” he keeps his hands on your hips and looks down at you. “You’re my good girl, don’t you forget that. You wait for me and it’ll be all worth it.” He rubs your back a little as his features set into a frown as he thinks. “In the meantime, I’ve got something for you that might help.”

Perking up at the thought of a gift, you tilt your head and ask what it is, earning you a coy smile from your professor. His hands leave your back as he walks to his desk, pulling out a small drawer and reaching in. “This morning I took the precaution of grabbing you something special. I was always planning on this, baby, and now I think is the perfect time to give it to you.”

Watching, you see him remove a thin chain from the drawer, along with a small, golden padlock. He walks to you and slips the chain around your neck, letting the lock fall into your cleavage. Smiling, he brings up the lock hanging from the necklace and slowly clicks it closed. It looks perfect.

“Now, no one can take this lock off your neck except for me,” he holds up a small key, “no matter what, you’re mine, is that clear?”

“I understand, Spencer,” you can’t hide your smile as you bring your hand up to hold the lock, “I’m yours.”

Spencer smiles, “good girl. I promise you that the moment I can, I will remove that lock and give you the time of your life… until then, I want you to enjoy the feeling of knowing that you belong to me and no one else.”

You nod, taking a step back from Spencer, feeling ready to leave now that you have confirmation that he is willing to wait for you, that you mean something to him.

Before you have chance to move too far away, he grabs your hand, “just a moment, I just want to…” and with that he moves in for a quick kiss, his mind filled with the thought that in two weeks he can finally have you.

He moans as you pull away, mind still reeling at the taste of you. “Only a few more weeks…”

[canichangemyblogname]

Hot take? A show with queer people in it from the beginning was never queerbaiting and— very literally and technically— never could. In the first episode, a gay man comes out to his family. And he doesn’t stop being gay after that; it’s a major plot point and part of his character going forward. You’ve had a married lesbian couple from the jump who are proud and unapologetic about their love for each other. The story has also portrayed several queer couples and stories in episodic plots, including featuring queer weddings.

Buck didn’t suddenly “become” bi. Queerness is not when straight people “turn” queer. He has been attracted to men the entire time; he has always been bi. Understanding yourself and your sexuality as a queer person is often so difficult under heteronormativity. Sometimes, it takes time.

Hell— Buck checking a guy out some time in season 3 or getting flustered by the idea he might like a guy, etc, etc, are not even examples “queerbaiting,” nevermind how the show already features queer stories.

I genuinely think some of y’all are just mad that he’s not sucking face with the man you want him to, and are being weirdly homophobic about it. “Buck kissing this man is kinda off-putting, lmao.” “Buck and his bf’s relationship is awkward. IDK, but it weirds me out.” “There’s something so cringe about Buck’s relationship—” “Who dates someone they haven’t been friends with for years first? It’s kinda creepy…” “I think their relationship is a weird mess. It’s not as meaningful as a slow burn.”

Life isn’t fanfiction and fanfiction tropes don’t make good writing. Most relationships start out with a “hey, I’m interested in you, let’s get to know each other.” You’re just transparently uncomfortable with two men expressing that interest in each other outside the arbitrary rules you’ve established to make a mlm relationship “legitimate” or “meaningful.”

[Fanfiction] tropes— from “there’s only one bed” to “we’re forced together, but fall in love anyway”— are responses to the sex-negativity and purity culture norms forced upon gender and sexual minorities. They provide a workaround for these norms but never a direct challenge. It’s like the Family Guy episode “Prick Up Your Ears,” where conservative Christian abstinence-only sex education leads to kids having ear sex. Ear sex is the workaround to the abstinence and purity rules they’d been taught, not the challenge. We still have stringent rules around who can touch whom and under what circumstances. Tropes reflect this. So, a trope like “there’s only one bed” provides the characters with a justification for their intimacy without directly challenging why it is taboo.

You’ve convinced yourself that shipping— and thus the tropes it employs— is more subversive than actual representation, and the people caught in the crossfire are actual queer people.

Also— for the love of fuck— stop comparing every mlm relationship to RW&RB.

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌

(Masterlist)

Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.

Until you realized you had to get off the bike.

“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.

He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.

“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”

You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.

You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.

You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.

“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.

You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.

Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.

“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”

Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”

“What’s on it?”

“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”

“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”

The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.

Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.

“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.

“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.

“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”

“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”

“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”

His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.

“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him

He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”

You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”

A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.

“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.

“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”

Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.

“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”

He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.

“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”

You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.

“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”

“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”

“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.

He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”

-

You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.

Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.

You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.

“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.

Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”

Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.

“That’s too bad.”

And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.

The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”

-

You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.

Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.

“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.

Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”

You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”

Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”

As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”

You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.

“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”

Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”

You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.

You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.

Is this okay?

You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.

It’s more than fine.

He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:

Just like the way you look in that costume.

He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.

Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.

“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”

“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.

Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.

The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.

Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.

Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.

And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.

The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.

You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.

“You okay, Cass?”

Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”

You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”

Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”

Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.

You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.

“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.

You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”

He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”

You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”

His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”

Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.

“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.

“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”

Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”

You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”

You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”

“A cute idiot.”

Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”

Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”

Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”

“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”

Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”

Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.

“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”

You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”

Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.

“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.

You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”

Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”

You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.

“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”

He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.

You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”

You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.

You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.

You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.

It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.

Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.

It was ridiculous. It was everything.

The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.

You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.

The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.

[alphajocklover]

Hello, basic 40 year old flabby, short, wimpy nerd nerd here. Been trying and failing to get fit and transform into a stud since I've been thirteen to no avail. Pretty much decided that that the project is genetic. I don't suppose you can genetically graft me to a hypermasculine dad or maybe a hypermasculine brother so puberty could have dealt me a way different hand?

Huh. I’ll admit, I’ve never really done anything like that before. I mean, I’ve talked about changes that alter someone’s past in previous post, and I performed one myself using time travel (I fucking hate time travel), but what’s you’re asking is so much more intense. You want me to make it so that you grew up with a super manly dad or brother. You want me to make it so your genetics are different, your history is different, so that you’re basically an entirely different person. I’m not sure I’ve ever altered anyone that much before. But… I’m willing to give it a try.

You’re an only child right? And you never knew your dad? Raised only by your mom? Good, that will make this much easier. Now, I should warn you that we’re going to have to be very careful. We’re going to use an artifact that my Uncle left to me. I’ve mentioned him before. I really should tell you all about him one day. Anyways, what we’re using to change you might not look like much, but… it’s very powerful. We need to use it carefully.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking. It’s a little statue of a metal tree. Yes I know I sound crazy but in a world with time travel, an app that turns people into meatheads, and reflections that can swap places with the person they’re reflecting, I think you can give me the benefit of the doubt. The little statuette doesn’t look like much, but it’s one of the most dangerous magic items I own. It’s known as the Family Tree, and it allows the user to, well, alter their family tree. Literally. All you have to do is press your thumb to the wooden base, and the tree grows and changes until it resembles your own family tree, complete with pictures. Then it’s as simple as moving some things around, or adding a picture to the tree. So, let’s get to work.

You asked for a super manly dad, or a super manly brother. But since we’re already changing your family, why not give you both? First let’s change out your deadbeat dad for someone a little more… impressive. A real man, a man’s man, one so muscular and sexy that if he walked out on your mom you’d still thank him for the amazing genetics. But don’t worry, your new dad isn’t going to walk out like the old one. He stayed with your mom (who as it turns out is a real babe with the right man encouraging her), and raised you to be just like him. He taught you how to play sports, how to workout, how to shave your hairy face, even how to make a girl putty in your hands. You were always especially talented at that last one. You’re starting to remember it aren’t you? Everything your dad taught you, how far you pushed yourself because you wanted to make him proud. You especially remember him showing him how to throw a football. In this world you were a natural.

Next is your brother. I don’t wanna give away your identity, or his, so let’s call him Brad. He’s actually your younger brother, not your older brother. You were the one who taught him how to be a man, how to be a stud, and in doing so, became an even better one yourself. As reality changes you remember growing up with him, teaching him the ropes, playing and working out with him. You even remember the girls you’d sometimes fuck together. You remember the first time you and him spitroasted a bimbo, how hot the girl looked and how proud and manly your brother was.

But let’s move on to you. In this life you took after your dad and your little brother, being a natural stud. You were a strong kid, an active kid, but puberty hit you like a dump truck. You shot up, your shoulders widened, and you gained an almost obscene amount of muscle and hair. You’ve got a different personality too. Cocky and confident, a constant flirt and a total bro. You thought you’d never settle down, fucking a different girl every night. Until… you met your wife. Yes, in this world you have a wife. She’s a bit of a bimbo, but the kindest person you’ve ever met. She enchanted you, and soon… while, you were married, and have stayed married for almost 20 years.

You’ve changed your past, your future, and everything about yourself. You’re finally the man you always wanted to be… but your kids are really the lucky ones. They’ve got awesome genetics, killer bodies, and a great dad to show them how to use it, just like how you did growing up.

[heaartzzforcupidzz]

Heyo

This is the same person that left some prompts with @2faced-fairy . One of the ones I wrote I really liked so I just wanted to see your take cuz I was kinda proud 🥲

It’s was to have CatNap and DogDay fuck you at the same time *both P in V*, their cocks tense as they rubbed against each other inside reader. But even after they both came, reader kept bouncing on them.

Please be like, really graphic about it. Skin slapping and stuff. They’re ‘trying to beg’ reader to stop, but the pleasure is just so good. And it’s so hot their lover can make them both feel so good. And with the tension of their cocks against each other?

They’re moaning like fucking pornstars.

Plz consider it I’m in love with this concept but I can’t write smut without cringe and you’re like professional and stuff :,)

Thank u I love your shit

A/N: okay this is a very erotic idea but I don’t really know how to be graphic, I’m sorry. I’ll do the best I can do, though!

“Both?”

Relationship(s): catnap x reader x dogday 🔞

Warning(s): smut

of course, you guys had talked about it before but you never expected it to happen tonight. your guys day went as normal as ever. you woke up last, your lovers had woken before you and were outside. Dogday was entertaining the kids and Catnap kinda just sat in the shade, watching. you could tell he loved the orphans just as much as you all did. he was just.. what’s the word? misunderstood, maybe?

today felt like it was going slower then usual as you sat in the classroom of Ms. Delight, watching as the kids took their test. After, they finished, you walked them out to the play area, watching everyone run in opposite directions.

For dinner, it was your night and you hated cooking for so many. but Catnap helped you. you were reaching for the flour, but you couldn’t quite reach. Catnap came behind you, pressing his body into yours as he grabbed it and handed it to you, smirking as he saw your tomato face. your cunt had began to hunger for him but you waited. you could wait. couldn’t you?..

you both finished cooking around 8:30 pm. you had the kids fed, bathed, and in bed by 10:24 pm. Dogday and Catnap walked with you to your guys’ shared home. usually staying at Dogdays since his was the biggest. you both still had your own homes but were barely there.

you laid in bed, your cunt still slick as you ignored the feeling. Catnap laid behind you and softly rubbed circles on your hips. Dogdays face was in your chest as he held your waist, looking up at you with the sweetest eyes he could muster. they were ambushing you!

Dogday had pushed himself inside, giving you a moment to compose. he and catnap were huge and to have them both inside you? that was a suicide very risky mission. you panted as Dogday finally bottomed out and you tried to get used to him. no matter how much they make you take their cocks, your always too tight. Dogday held you, lovingly, as you finally sat on his whole cock.

Catnap had came behind you, wasting no time. he repositioned you abit causing dogdays cock to move. he slowly pushed inside causing you and dogday to let out a whimper breathy moan. Dogdays dick felt heavenly, it was in the tightest piece of warmth and another piece of flesh was pushing against it.

you bounced on their cocks, harshly. the wet skin against skin sounds almost overwhelming. you could barely hear your lovers over the harsh slapping. “F—fuck, Angel— ahhh~” Dogday moaned out, his head lolling back as he came inside your womb. Catnap felt the way dogdays cock rubbed against his inside your little hole and he moaned out as the spurts of cum splashed against his cock, him instinctively shooting out his seed.

But you? you had kept bouncing, overstimulating them both. “W—wait, Angel, please slow— ah~!” “god, wait~!” They both tried to beg you to stop but you were too lost in your own world. the wet sounds coming from your conjoined body parts. the white sticky mess making strings between you threes connection. the faster you went the more they begged. catnap had begun to drool and groan. dogday had begun to cry and whimper as his body betrayed him and helped you bounce on their fat cocks.

they had cum again for the fourth time, you being on six. you finally stopped and laid against the sheets, their cocks pulling out of you. the white sticky strings still connecting their cocks to your pretty pussy. they looked at eachother and smirked. pulling you back on their cocks, which you let out a displeased noise at, not ready to cum again. they kissed each of your cheeks and held you. they just wanted to feel you, baby. just a little cock warming, okay?

A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t make this to much in detail, im still learning , still I hope this made you happy.

TAGS: @2faced-fairy

[whalesforhands]

kaizen daycare! 1

summary: you love taking care of such adorable children, and they love you in return. however, it seems that you’ve garnered more than just the attention of some cute kids.

previous masterlist next

You rejected him again.

“So how about tomorrow? I’ll come pick you up for dinner at my place?” His genteel smile, his captivating eyes, black hair draping over his shoulders as he’s leaning down slightly to stand before you, his three children long strapped into their seats within his car to ensure that they don’t overhear his conversation.

(Note that they could still very much see him, twins practically clambering over Megumi to get a better view of you two through the car window.)

Your pretty eyes are shifty, averting away from him as you scratch at your cheek. “Mmm, I’m afraid I won’t be available tomorrow, Geto-san.”

He’s already deflating, a barely put-together smile starting to give way to a frown as he nearly fails to hide his disappointment. He shouldn’t push you for a reason, right?

(Right…?)

“Ahh, I see. I suppose we could plan for another day, then.” He’s not going to hound you for an answer if you won’t tell him voluntarily.

“I’m really thankful for the invitation though, I’m sure you and your husband make great food!” A cute grin overtakes your face as your eyes turn into adorable crescents, a hand placed on your cheek. “I surely wouldn’t mind getting to eat the extra cookies you bake all the time.”

His heart melts. You’re forgiven.

Geto Suguru wants to slam his head into the steering wheel. Cookies, cookies— They were just made as an excuse to give way to longer conversations with you—!

“Papa, are you okay?” Mimiko’s shy voice is heard along the ride home, the passing streetlamps giving a warm glow to the interior of the car in contrast to the otherwise darkened, gloomy atmosphere of their father.

“Papa is… Just fine…” If getting rejected by someone as lovely as you 6 times in a row is considered fine, anyway. “Thank you for asking, dear.” He’s basically sulking as his eyes are kept on the road, a deep sigh leaving him as he turns a corner.

Eh? Mimiko really doesn’t think he’s fine at all. Did something upset him today?

“Oh, oh! Nanako knows why, Mimi!” The excited blonde is jumping in her seat as she raises an arm in the air, as if waiting to be called upon. “Gumi and I figured it out wayyyyy fast!”

“It wasn’t hard.” Megumi is almost looking triumphant, cute, chubby arms crossed and proud.

“…Is that so, sweethearts?” Suguru’s eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, amethyst purple meeting overjoyed brown and blank green that nods at his sister’s antics. “Care to tell what you think is making Papa sad?”

(There’s no way they figured it out, right? They may be his kids, but still…)

“Cause…” A contemplative finger on her lip as she lets the tension of unknowing rise for dramatic effect, an innocent grin on her cute face. “Cause Daddy and Papa are hopeless at getting (name)-sensei’s attention!”

Geto Suguru really wants to slam his head into the steering wheel now.

——

“AHAHAH!” There’s a loud laughter about the room now that Gojo Satoru has appeared, bathrobe around his form and towel in his hair as he kicks his feet into the air whilst laying down, held within Suguru’s embrace as he holds his stomach.

“Can’t— Hahah!” He’s struggling to breathe, a deep intaking of air as he gasps. “Pfft, believe how that sensei is so~ oblivious.” He wipes a tear from his eye, his voice finally finding itself as he rolls onto his side to face his pouty husband.

“Aren’t you laughing a little too much, Satoru?” The red on Suguru’s cheeks is very apparent as the shame manifests itself on his face. How many failures does he need? Geto Suguru was so sure that you had liked them, would even go as far as believing that you definitely had the hots for them.

(Because, who wouldn’t?)

“Aww, is wittle Suguwu hwurt?” An arm props his head up to better see his the blushing red of his husband. “Want a wittle kissy? Satoru will indulge you— OW!” He feels himself lose balance before his back his flat against the bed, an unimpressed Suguru atop of him.

Narrowed purple and playful blue meet as the black-haired male continues to straddle him. “Not the point, Satoru.” A pat to the smiling man’s cheek. “We haven’t made progress at all—“

“Don’t worry your pretty head off about our adorable teacher.” A smirk as Geto feels a hand trail up his thigh, exceeding close to the boxers he donned for bed.

“I got just the plan.” A wink as he grabs his waist, using his body weight to roll them over so that he would be the one on top, a loving hand stroking Suguru’s cheek.

“And I’m certain it’ll work this time~”

——

“Good morning… You’re awfully early today, Gojo-san…” A yawn escapes your lips as you hold a still sleeping Nanako in your arms, cradling her close and stroking her head as Gojo held the other two.

(You look awfully domestic. It makes his heart all the more softer at the sight.)

“And I’m sorry for that, sweet thing.” He adjusts a stirring Mimiko in his hold. “The family’s been too busy with our move lately, ya know? Gotta drop them off early to get the rest of the boxes.” His grin is ever bright as he follows you into the daycare, his footsteps light and his body close as they tested the limits of your boundaries.

(Truth was, he didn’t even need to move any boxes or anything. He just wanted to see you.)

“You must be working very hard, Gojo-san.” You hum quietly as you reach the nap area, the nightlights on and encompassing the room with their comfy glow as you gently kneel down to place a still sleeping Nanako onto a mattress, the man’s shoulder grazing yours as he placed the rest of his kids together.

“I think the change of pace is worth it. The relocation is gonna be a benefit to all of us.”

(My, is the new home that good?)

“It must be exhausting having to move houses, though.” You take this chance to poke at one of the mochi-like cheeks of Megumi, watching as his little nose twitches. “I hope you’re letting them get enough rest, Gojo-san.”

“Oho, plenty!” A glimmer of his teeth as you catch his bright smile. “You could even say they’re so excited, they can barely sleep thinking about yo— It.”

You’re humming as you follow-up with the light chatter, just happy to be able to have such light-hearted conversation with the man, ignoring how his fingers brushed against your own when you both reached for the blanket at the same time.

(This isn’t the time to think about such things! And he’s married!)

Unlike his husband, Gojo Satoru always seemed so hard to read, so hard to approach even after you’ve seen the softer, sweeter sides of him.

He was simply… Intimidating in his own right.

There is an odd, palpable air inbetween the two of you as the silence starts to drag, a gaze that’s seemingly stuck on you that hints and twinges between the line of unsettling. Hmm… You must be kind of tired today.

“Say, Gojo-san.” You’re getting up, patting off your apron and the almost scary tension as you lead him out the nap room. “Is your place near this area? I’ll be happy to help you find your way around.” Your back is turned to him as you gently close the door.

(You turn around only to meet the same intense blue, looking like they were glaring into your very being.)

“Well, we just moved into the apartment complex not far from here.” He takes a pause to tuck a loose strand of your hair back that your drowsy form fails to take note of. “I think it was—” His intense eyes glance downwards meet your dazed own, playful and prodding blue to the innocently awaiting you.

(So cute.)

“Akutami Estate.”

Your once sleepy self perks up at that mention, certainly recognizing that name.

“What a coincidence, Gojo-san! I happen to live within that building too!”

“That so? My, what a coincidence indeed.” His returning grin is bright, but his eyes are hard to read considering the sunglasses that had been slid back in place to hide them from your view.

“So, how about a little housewarming dinner tonight? My place, of course.”

There’s no way you can refuse now, right?

previous masterlist next

Notes:

“Shokoooooo…!” You’re whining as you sat on her chair, making grabby hands for her whilst slumped into the plush seat.

“You’re awfully needy today. What’s the matter?” She’s patting your head as you suddenly lean forward to wrap your arms around her hips, your face dug into her side as you muffled incoherent words into her doctor’s coat.

“What? Don’t speak with my clothes in your mouth.”

You pull away, pouting up at her with what looked like glossed over eyes. “I think I just doomed myself…”

“Huh?”

[piarelei]

Training hop

Here's an angsty one, with some platonic Javy & Jake time. Can also be read as a sequel to Bullseye.

The moment Jake’s feet hit the tarmac, he knew he was in for a Bad One. He carried the anticipation of it in his shoulders, trying to roll it off his back but not succeeding. 

The sight of Bradley had him unfamiliarly wanting to turn right around, back to the cockpit and the welcoming chasm of the skies. He tipped back his head instead, all bravado and no guilt. 

Bradley had the decency to wait for them to be left alone. He didn’t have to wait a very long time: other aviators were staring Jake down with no small amount of disgust on their face. He didn’t let it get to him. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

Jake shrugged, walking lazily to the locker rooms. “Completed the hop, didn’t I?” 

Bradley pulled at his shoulder, turning him so that they were face to face. “You nearly killed Oslo.” 

“No. I simply flew my best, as usual. It’s not my fault if she’s not fast enough.” 

Bradley gritted his teeth. “What the fuck, Hangman?”

Jake shrugged him off. “I don’t even see how that fucking concern you, Bradshaw.” 

“You don’t see?” Bradley looked over his shoulder. “We are dating, asshole.”

“Yeah. And?” 

“And? Well, I don’t know. I thought maybe you had fucking changed, for one.” 

Jake had to swallow the impulse to bare his teeth. “You think that because I get my dick sucked on the regular, I’m going to lower my standards?” 

Bradley frowned. “I just thought you were not such a fucking asshole anymore. I guess I was wrong.” 

“I guess you were.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to be a decent human being.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“Right. Well. I don’t…” Bradley swallowed. “I don’t think you should come over tonight.” 

Jake went cold all over, hot flames put out by ice. “What does that fucking mean?”

Bradley took a step back, crossing his arms, stubborn. “That means that I don’t want to fucking see you tonight.”

Jake inhaled, trying to appease the sudden bruise under his ribs. “Alright. Whatever.” 

He turned and went to the locker room quickly. He didn’t want Bradley to hold him back. He didn’t want to hear the silence if he didn’t. 

#

Javy opened the door with a defeated face. “Well, at least you coordinated properly for once. Nat just left for Bradshaw’s.”

Jake grunted and pushed in, beer pack in hand. Javy simply followed him to the living room. They settled on the couch, Javy got the TV on, a non-sense rom com with fake laughing tracks, and opened two beers. Jake sipped on his first one for a good ten minutes, not seeing or hearing anything from the TV. 

“Right,” Javy said, sort of exasperated. “Get it out of your head or we’ll never get it over with.” 

Jake thought about it, then, shook his head. He had no idea where to even start.

“Okay, you know what, I think I know you enough to get the crux of it. You were an asshole while flying and Bradshaw lives in a fantasy where you’re suddenly nice to everyone and couldn’t handle it.”

Jake shrugged. 

“Well, break up with him.”

Jake turned to Javy, daggers in his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes, actually. I am kidding you. God. Are you ready to talk?” 

Jake scoffed. 

“Right. So I guess I was right about things?” 

Jake nodded, making a face. 

“Okay. He’ll calm down.”

“But what is the fucking point of it, Javy? I’m not going to change.” 

Javy snorted. At Jake’s uncomprehending eyes, he leaned forward. “You already have, man. It’s fucking awful to witness, but you’re so much chiller now. You use to lose it all the fucking time on your wingmen. You never forgave small mistakes. Now? Shit, I’ve seen you give second, third chances.”

Jake took a sip of his beer. It tasted more bitter than usual. “I’m going soft. That’s not a good thing.” 

“Yeah, shut up, you’re still the best. You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Come on, no point to dwell on it. Bradshaw had always been so fucking angry all the time. Give him time to decompress. You can talk about it then.” 

Javy was the voice of reason. He plied Jake with a beer, then a second, then a third, until the world around was just cotton-soft. Jake let himself slide on the couch sideways, face smashed into Javy’s shoulder. 

A few hours later, the door opened and Javy had a hushed conversation Jake didn’t bother to listen to. He should have because a few seconds later, Bradley appeared in his line of sight, looking contrite. 

“Can I take you home, Jake?” No Hangman. 

Jake unsteadily rose to his feet. Bradley reached out to help him. Jake bid a quick goodbye to Javy and Natasha, already too focused on Bradley. 

The Bronco rumbled under them when Bradley started it. Jake sighed, slumping against the window. 

“I was an asshole today,” Jake admitted. 

When Bradley didn’t answer immediately, Jake turned his head to watch him. The streetlights were washing him in shades of yellow. 

“Sometimes,” Bradley started with some apparent difficulty, “I’m scared that the wingman that you leave behind is what is going to kill you.” 

Jake reached out slowly, trying to assess if he was welcome. “I’ll never let that happen.” 

Bradley grasped for his hand. “You won’t have a choice in the matter. There’s strength in numbers, Jake. I wish you would realize that.” 

Jake squeezed Bradley’s hand. “I do. I… I’m the asshole I am during exercise hops because I need everyone to be their best when we face the real deal.” 

“I know.” 

“Well…”

“I know, Jake. But I’m scared that one day people will hate you too much to go back for you.” 

Jake inhaled, kept his lungs full with his anxiety, until he let it all out slowly. “I’ll be retired the moment I fall behind.” 

Bradley shook his head, sighed. “I guess we’ll never agree on that.” 

“We don’t have to. You just have to trust me.”

Bradley shook his head. “We can compromise tomorrow. I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed before we talk about it again.” 

Jake nodded. “Are you dropping me off at mine?” 

Bradley gave him a glance, almost hesitant. “I would like you to go back to mine if that’s alright with you.”

Jake stared at the road ahead, feeling quietly pleased. “Sure.” 

Later, with Bradley curled all around him too warm and heavy, Jake thought that he would be willing to wear his standards down to the floor if it meant that he could keep this. He didn’t say it aloud in the morning, but he was sure that Bradley could tell.

Barely reread the thing, so my bad if there's any mistake. Hope you enjoyed, show some love with a reblog ♥

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

[marnerparty]

young stud

Connor Bedard x reader

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard📍Nashville

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adamfantilli my dude!

yourusername no it’s ok… I wasn’t there either… I don’t wanna be featured…

_connorbedard being around me 24/7 wasn’t enough? 😐

yourusername no.

_masonmctavish23 Jesus just tell him you love him yn

yourusername we are JUST best friends

trevorzegras yeah, and i’m cleaner than jamie

_masonmctavish23 where tf did you come from!?

jamie.drysdale don’t bring me into this

yourusername hey all you ducks get outta here. tilli is comin to Anaheim not C-Dog

adamfantilli we have no idea where either of us are going to end up yn

_connorbedard SEE

user1 sorry the Blackhawks are gonna draft you

colton.dach 👀

yourusername even he knows you’re going #1

_connorbedard yn we still just don’t know

espn congrats on the success & good luck tomorrow finding out who your next team will be!

madi_bedard 🤘🏻

user2 boutta be the biggest bust the NHL has ever seen

yourusername and you’ve done what in your life exactly?

trevorzegras yn responding to haters >>>>>

_connorbedard please do not encourage this

yourusername hi, I’m yn. I think we’ll be great friends

trevorzegras nice to meet you, I’m trevor & likewise. let’s hang out sometime

biznasty 🤠🤠🤠

barzal97 kiddd

yourusername 😍😍😍

_connorbedard don’t say what you want to rn.

_connorbedard please.

_connorbedard I beg you.

trevorzegras yn, you are your own person. if you want to embarrass yourself and tell mat you think he’s hot do it.

barzal97 now I feel like I shouldn’t be here

user3 connor sucks

_masonmctavish23 🦅🦅🦅

_connorbedard those are Eagles

_masonmctavish23 connor wtf. that’s a smart-ass comment that should come from yn not you

_connorbedard he limited the amount of times i can comment on his Instagram posts. this is actually yn. I took connor’s phone

trevorzegras oh my god we will be amazing friends

yourusername

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yourusername I couldn’t be more proud 🫶🏻

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_connorbedard thank you for your never ending support yn ❤️

nhlblackhawks who’s the new guy?

yourusername some bum. probably shouldn’t make the team tbh

_connorbedard what happened to “couldn’t be more proud”

yourusername 🤫

adamfantilli it’s been a ride 🤘🏻

_connorbedard love you long time brother 🫡

cubs welcome to the Windy City Connor!

kentjohnson.13 YOU DID IT C!

_connorbedard miss you 🫶🏻

trevorzegras yn panicking rn trying to make this comment section abt her

yourusername fuck you trevor

barzal97 she’s aggressive isn’t she?

yourusername 🫢😮

trevorzegras look what you did Mat 🙄

barzal97 ??????

yourusername he’s referring to the fact you put the attention on me

barzal97 didn’t he start it by pointing it out in the first place?

trevorzegras watch it.

yourusername besties, please. this is no place to fight

user1 yn 🤝🏻 hockey boys

Liked by yourusername

lululemon #1 brand —> #1 pick! congrats Connor!

yourusername @lululemon free clothes?👀

_connorbedard wtf?? it’s MY brand deal bud

lhughes_06 your relationship is confusing

user2 honestly fuck connor bedard

yourusername Connor has asked me very nicely to not respond to haters & be rude so I cannot say anything to you that I want to, but just know, I really want to.

trevorzegras I am so proud of your growth

yourusername i love Connor, what can I say

yourusername

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yourusername bestie is the big 1️⃣8️⃣ 🫶🏻

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user1 about goddamn time

jackhughes wtf how is this kid just now an adult

trevorzegras now you guys can do it !

yourusername TREVOR

yourusername NOT FUNNY

adamfantilli I still can’t believe Yn’s a cougar

yourusername I’m a year older 😪 chill.

_masonmctavish23 SO YOU ADMIT YOU’RE A COUGAR

trevorzegras WE GOT HER

colton.dach YN LIKES CONNOR

user2 AHHHHH

lululemon Happy Birthday Connor! 🎉

user3 I love you plz marry me

quentinmusty happy birthday CB !!

_connorbedard 😚😚😚 miss u

trevorzegras super sus 👀

adamfantilli someone check on yn

_connorbedard thank you ynn <3

Liked by yourusername

lhughes_06 love birds

yourusername I’ll kill you Lucas

lhughes_06 come at me yn

trevorzegras Luke what have you done

trevorzegras yn will protect connie wonnie boo-boo bear at all costs

yourusername you’re dead too Zegras

user3 all these adults obsessing over some teens

_masonmctavish we are NOT obsessed

user3 def are

_masonmctavish NO

user3 yes.

jamie.drysdale mason wtf are you doing

barzal97 happy birthday kid!

_connorbedard thank you 🙌🏻

yourusername added to their story!

yourusername

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yourusername besties trip!!

tagged trevorzegras

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trevorzegras 😚😚😚

jamie.drysdale IS THIS A THING

trevorzegras ????

yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

user1 Matching tattoos & a trip? Too sus

colton.dach I THOUGHT YOU LIKED CONNOR

adamfantilli WHAT HAPPENED

user2 whore

trevorzegras watch your mouth

barzal97 I’m officially out 😔

yourusername NO

yourusername COME BACK

yourusername You’re always #1 😘😘😘

_connorbedard No invite is crazy

yourusername make up for it when I get back?

_connorbedard I guess 🙄

user3 tension?!!!

user4 this girl sucks

_connorbedard Get outta here

madi_bedard GORGE

yourusername ughhh I’m in love with you

user5 *with your brother

_masonmctavish ^^^^

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard can’t take her anywhere

tagged yourusername

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yourusername added to their story!

yourusername

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yourusername go Blackhawks!

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jackhughes WHAT

trevorzegras why are we acting surprised

luke_hughes06 HE’S A CHILD

yourusername you’re a child

ryanwhitney6 MY EYES

colton.dach you dirty liar

adamfantilli “there’s nothing between us”

nhlblackhawks “we’re just best friends”

trevorzegras Even the team is invested in this 😐

biznasty Connor you dirty dog

yourusername 40 yr old in the comment section 🥱

biznasty Connor she’s mean

yourusername who knew biz was whiny

barzal97 what about us 😔

yourusername Mat he can be gone in 5 seconds

trevorzegras Connor wonnor has a girllll friendddd

_connorbedard Yeah that’s one more than you 🤠

yourusername 🫣

jamie.drysdale Yikes getting roasted by a 12 yr old

trevorzegras JAMIE!? BE ON MY SIDE

jamie.drysdale that was kinda a dig at both of you

trevorzegras I don’t care care it should only be a dig at HIM

yourusername trouble in paradise 😬

_connorbedard

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_connorbedard a full trip around the ☀️

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biznasty Are you 30 yet?

_connorbedard just turned 19 bud

yourusername lover 😚

_connorbedard ❤️❤️

user1 🤮

user2 mans pulled a baddie like yn … let me know your ways

madi_bedard sista sista

madi_bedard I’m stealing her

yourusername im yours <3

trevorzegras and Connor’s and Mat’s ?

yourusername yes.

colton.dach yn > Connor 🤷🏼‍♀️

olivermoore11 agreed.

titobeauvi91 she has a more pleasant presence

_connorbedard wow TEAMMATES thank you!

jamie.drysdale YOU’VE BEEN DATING A YEAR!?

luca.fantilli That’s gotta be illegal

trevorzegras Not so team Connor and yn now huh Jimmy

yourusername oh please you wouldn’t have known we were dating if I didn’t tell you

barzal97 🤘🏻

user3 you need someone better than yn

trevorzegras lol good luck finding anyone better

barzal97 she’s a national treasure

jamie.drysdale haters will be haters

_connorbedard too bad I love her 🤷🏼‍♀️

yourusername boys stop it I’m blushing ☺️

adamfantilli he said the L word 🤢

A/N I’m … back ??