#like moments where they're like “shit i like him a lot i wish i could say something” but they're also determined to not mess up this time

[ihopesocomicask]

Do you think it's possible to make a main protagonist of a story, who was an abusive person just like Vicious was, be likable? like, keeping the fact that they won't be forgiven by their victim, but at the same time exploring them actually evolving and becoming a better person and creating new healthy relationships. Not to pat abusers on the head, but yk, something like "You can choose to CHANGE". Because ngl I keep thinking about Vicious' future. I know she won't die and thankfully she will get out of Jasper's abuse, but what then? Would she go on a journey to realize her mistakes and act differently? Who knows.

I see a lot of people talking about Bojack Horseman, but I don't know if it's a good example because apparently the point of his character is to be a hypocrite who acts like the victim for everything that happens while continuing to ruin his relationships (I've never watched it so sorry if I might be saying shit lol 😭). I even know that there is a moment where he almost takes advantage of an underage girl, and while I do believe in change and growth, there are things that have limits for me ofc

There's likeable and then there's sympathetic and/or relatable.

Bojack Horseman as a character is relatable to a lot of folks but there has certainly been a crossroads when it comes to people who relate to him excusing his behaviour because x, y or z happened to him and completely missing the point of Todd blowing up on him and then there's people who still relate to him but feel he needs to be held accountable for his actions in order to improve himself.

And they're absolutely correct. A main reason why Bojack failed to improve is because he was stuck in an endless cycle of victimisation and feeling like he was not responsible for his actions for whatever reason. Namely the abuse he suffered at the hands of his parents. Only he's not that child anymore. He's an adult and he's very much responsible for his actions.

Like I will openly admit that I was an utter asshole to people online years ago because I didn't have a very nice home life and I was dealing with undiagnosed autism and mental health issues. I felt powerless and being a confrontational prick online gave me power. Bojack certainly works in a similar manner. His celebrity status gives him the power to act out in ways he never could as a child and whatever regret he feels is purely a sense of apprehension that his celebrity status and the power/respect it grants will be taken away from him. It's very selfish and it's why he didn't grow at all until his actions were exposed. And he certainly would've been doomed to keep things going had he not gone for that second interview. Especially as a college professor, given his history.

I can't speak for everybody who says they wish that second interview hadn't happened and Bojack may or may not have improved on his own but - from my perspective - he would've just used his newfound confidence and power as an 'advocate' for addiction to harm others, especially indirectly. The indirectness already happens with audience members of the show who feel Bojack justifies their problematic behaviour.

And this is something you have to be especially wary of if you wish to pursue this kind of topic: your character being used to validate the negative behaviour of others. Bojack's writers did a great job of making it clear that - while sympathetic - Bojack needed to be held accountable for his actions and needed to improve. People can view that as a negative thing all they want but they are not the kind of people the writers wanted the approval of anyway and they're not really worthy of anybody else's approval either imho.

And we also have to recognise that change doesn't automatically come with forgiveness either. Going back to Bojack again, I feel Herb would've absolutely entertained having a friendship with him once more if Bojack had accepted he was not entitled to forgiveness. It's just the kind of character Herb is. Charlotte, on the other hand, would've been 110% right to have Bojack tossed in jail as a mother. It all depends on the character and the nature of the deed. Like you've already pointed out, there are limitations. And it's also why Vicious will never have access to Hope or Adamant again. - RJ

[certifiedlesbianvampire]

hear me out: aramata SLOWBURN. i mean painfully slow. it takes them (almost) a whole decade. mainly because i think their relationship needs to develop to where they are both fully comfortable and fully accepting of their relationship, as well as attraction to each other. i think matakara knows he likes arajin already but post-canon it takes a while since they're trying to balance their relationship to be more equal. he also isn't entirely sure if arajin likes him back and wants to let their friendship heal first. arajin is deep in denial about being attracted to men in specific so i think it would take him longer. he'd accept being attracted to matakara first (because over time, i think he'd open up, accept his own insecurities and mistakes more etc) but when it comes to being attracted to men he's used to thinking of himself as straight and gets defensive when questioned so when he actually confronts it years later he'd be like "...wait a minute" the same thing i said about matakara applies here (trying to heal their relationship first before anything else) also they both take their relationships really seriously (implied in this short story) so i definitely think they would have to go through a lot, be certain about it and commit fully.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥

Sukuna

Pairing: Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Sukuna's twins are miniature versions of himself which can only mean one thing: they're two little demons.

Warnings: MDNI, family content, fluff(?), dad!Sukuna, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), titjob, nipple play

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna had to change a lot of things in his life when his twins came along. The man that never imagined he’d become a father, was lucky enough to knock up his girlfriend. Or wife, whatever he gets to call you now. One very unlucky lucky night he decided that protection was a stupid idea, but the universe got back at him to teach him a life lesson, and you ended up pregnant with two– Not one, but two babies. 

Sure, Sukuna loves his babies and all that shit which made it easier for him to change into a better person. He’s not a stellar parent or anything, and during the first year of their life he was struggling to figure it out but the job has gotten easier. He’d argue that the job is fun too, seeing the little shits form their own personalities or whatever is interesting. 

Though one could say that it’s only fun for Sukuna since the kids are turning out just like their father. For you, on the other hand, it is stressful. Having two children screaming just like their father isn’t exactly fun, not when you have to correct them. It was hilarious to watch Sukuna teach his nephew cuss words for the little guy to run around, yelling the atrocities (nearly giving his father a heart attack); it’s not fun when you’re in the mother’s shoes. 

“Fuck you-” “We don’t say that around here!” “Daddy says it!”

“Motherfucker!” “Watch your mouth!” “Daddy told me I can say it!”

It’s a never-ending correction in your home, and it doesn’t help that your husband doesn’t help you out. Sukuna kind of does his part by watching his mouth around the pair, but that’s not enough anymore. They’re almost six, it’s too late for them to unlearn certain words… or other behaviors. 

“Stop arguing you two!” You yell from the kitchen, hearing them bicker about something. They’re always arguing because one is mean to the other. Sukuna’s genes are too strong. Luckily for you, you were blessed with a girl and a boy so you don’t have to try again for another baby. You won’t have to repeat this.

“Ugly bastard!” Akane, your baby girl, yells. And you wish it was a moment where you got to think if you heard wrong because your baby girl would never say that, but she would. This one says it nearly daily.

“Akane, if I hear one more word out of you, girl! I swear–” You’re cut off by your husband, startling you as he hugs you from behind. He’s not listening, or well, he is and he doesn’t want you to correct the girl.

“Aren’t you just so proud of her?” He sounds elated, knowing his daughter sounds just like him. If only you could share that sentiment. You push him away and focus on finishing lunch for the little rascals. 

“My girl friends invited me out, and guess what? You’re taking over tonight.” You tell him, and Sukuna’s eyes widen. You’ve never made that threat before– Usually when you go out, you take them along or drop them off at someone else’s place because you doubt Sukuna can handle them. The longest they’ve been alone has been an hour.

“Someone will end up getting stabbed.” Is his answer, hoping that it’s enough to scare you into staying. Sukuna loves his babies, but he knows he can’t handle them. He made a grave mistake by molding them into mini versions of himself. Sukuna can’t control himself, how is he able to control two small Sukunas?

“And it’s probably going to be you if you don’t play your cards right. Good luck.” You answer, making it clear that you’re not staying home no matter what. You don’t acknowledge Sukuna as he begins to tell you the horrific sights that you might come home to. Sure, your kids are rowdy and a lot like their father but they won’t burn the house down… if you hide the matches.

“Akira! Akane! Come here!” You ignore him, calling your kids for their lunch. Sukuna sighs, rolling his eyes. 

They can’t be too bad…

“Hold his legs!” Akane yells to her brother while she pulls Sukuna’s hair. He doesn’t know what happened, he just fell asleep on the couch and woke up to his arms being restrained while one twin wipes something on his face. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?!” Sukuna raises his voice, rightfully so considering the position he’s in right now. He was warned, yet chose not to listen. Sukuna could kick the little shit that’s trying to tie him together but he won’t in fear that he might be too harsh and send the kid to the hospital. Oh, he hates them so much right now but any other time he’s willing to give up his life for them.

“We’re just playing.” Akira answers, and Sukuna could strangle one of the twins right at this moment– Too bad his hands are tied. How is this playing? Are they simulating a kidnapping or what?

“Untie me, now!” He orders, but his words go in one ear and out the other. He’s not mommy, he’s not uptight and lets them do whatever so this must be a joke.

“Quick, grab mommy’s makeup!” Akane yells, and Sukuna clenches his jaw. He’s trying to free himself, but they got him good. He needs to check what the kids are watching from now on because this is worrying for him.

“Akane, let me go before I get angry.” Sukuna threatens, but what can he possibly do when he’s tied up? 

“I got it!” Her twin comes into the living room with your makeup bag. Sukuna is squirming, trying his best to break free from his confinement but he can’t. Did they catch him while he was tying you up or what? No… He remembers locking the door. 

“If you two don’t let me free in this instant, I’ll make you pay!” Sukuna sounds intimidating, clearly angry at this little stunt. Unfortunately for him, they don’t take him seriously. They fear no one.

“You sound funny.” Akane laughs before pulling on his hair, which makes a cry escape his lips. Oh, he’d love this father thing if they were like you. This whole thing is getting annoying, but not only for him; the pair is getting tired of hearing their father cry and scream. “Akira, grab the tape, daddy is getting annoying.”

“What the fuck are you going to do?! I am your father, you two have to listen to me!” Sukuna is trying his best to break free before the twins tape his mouth and end up killing him. And by some miracle, just as they get their hands on the tape, the front door opens.

He prays that it’s you, ready to save him from the twins’ evil plan. It’s not you, but the next best thing. Sukuna doesn’t waste a second before yelling, “Jin! Stop them before they kill me!”

“What’s happening here?” His brother looks around confused. What did he just walk in on? He got a text from you to check in on his brother since Sukuna would be alone with the twins… and this happens. He sees his beloved nephew walk back with a roll of tape, and Jin picks him up from the ground. “What are you two doing to your dad?”

“They’re trying to kill me!” Sukuna yells, which the twins argue,

“We’re just playing!” Which makes a chuckle come from Jin. It isn’t funny– Well, maybe just a bit. It’s hilarious to see Sukuna get a taste of his own medicine.

“Now, you two, let your dad go.” Jin says, and at that moment they huff and puff. But they listen. He’s watching Sukuna’s expressions, and he stops the twins before they completely free him. “Stop. Go to your rooms.”

“What?! Don’t–” Before Sukuna can finish yelling, they’ve run away. They aren’t going to listen to him. Once they’re out of sight, Jin frees Sukuna and holds the man down, not trusting him enough to let him go.

“You’re not going to do anything to them, right?” Jin sounds as if he were Sukuna’s dad, which only pisses the man off more.

“The fuck am I going to do to them? I didn’t kick the little shit when he was tying my legs because I didn’t want to hurt him.” Sukuna makes a great point, but Jin wasn’t there to witness it. Right now he sees an angry man, and he wants to make sure Sukuna calms down before anything. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

“Your wife called me to check up on you, and I came just in time.” Jin answers, sitting down beside Sukuna once he knows that his brother is calm enough. Sukuna wants to be mad at you for not trusting him enough to watch his own kids, but he also wants to thank you for saving him tonight. 

“Don’t tell her what you saw.” Sukuna quickly says. It’s more of a warning than a request. Sukuna takes a deep breath. He should be asking what the kids were going to do to him– It wasn’t going to be anything too bad, probably just put on some makeup on him or some other stupid trick. They knew he was going to say no if he asked, so they chose to tie him up. The thought isn’t too far fetched considering who their father is. What he’s thinking right now is,

“Why would they listen to you and not me?” Sukuna wonders, and Jin has an idea as to why. “I mean I’m terrifying, but you? You look like you catch jellyfish with a net and work at the Krusty Krab.”

“Ah, they’re into Spongebob now.” Jin can’t help but laugh. He won’t take the insults to heart since this has always been Sukuna. “I feel like they do find you scary, they just don’t think that you’ll do anything to them if they torment you.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Sukuna isn’t in the mood for this. He can’t just wrap his head around this whole situation.

“You let them get away with a lot when it comes to you. You don’t let them get away with anything when it comes to their mother or other family.” Jin explains, which is valid reasoning but Sukuna rolls his eyes. That isn’t the answer he’s looking for, therefore he won’t accept it.

“Whatever you say. I’m going to check up on them before they flood the house.” Sukuna stands up from his seat, leaving his brother behind. The twins can’t be trusted for too long. 

Lo and behold, they found the matches. 

“You two came into my life as karma, huh?” Sukuna asks, before taking the matches from their grimy hands. “Akane, go annoy your uncle. Akira, you’re getting a bath and that’s final.”

“I thought you said I could bathe only once a week.” Akira points out the agreement they’ve had, but Sukuna has changed his mind. 

“I changed my mind when you and your sister did a kidnapping simulation with me. Plus, your mother says you stink and she doesn’t like you anymore so go to the tub.” Sukuna is not scared of making a little white lie to hurt his son’s feelings. It’s the least he could do.

“Mommy doesn’t what?” Akira’s eyes become watery, his bottom lip quivering at the thought of his mother not loving him anymore. Sukuna would feel a twinge of remorse any other night. 

“He’s lying, bubba.” Akane goes to his brother’s side to comfort him. She might be a little devil, but she has her soft spot. She hugs him tightly and Sukuna has to tear his eyes away from the sickly sweet scene. They won’t get to him. “You do stink but mommy loves you. She told us she loved us before leaving.”

“A lie she told you since she’s not coming back because you stink.” Sukuna isn’t going to stop, even when he hears his son cry. The boy pushes his sister away and runs to the bathroom to wash himself to make his mother come back. Hearing his own son cry is tough, but he’ll pat himself on the back later. 

“You’re next. Now go to your uncle, ask about Yuji or some shit.” Sukuna looks at his daughter, who is more resilient than her brother. She’s only five though, so he can find a way to get through to her with no issue. “Your birthday is coming up soon, huh? Guess I’ll–”

“I’m going!” She yells before Sukuna can finish his sentence, making a smirk come to his face. Smart girl.

He can handle them for the rest of the night, especially with Jin here.

When you come home, your little demons are sound asleep in their bedroom. You tuck them in, and admire the sight that you never see during the day. They almost look like they were sent straight from heaven. It’s a nice sight to come home too.

Your opinion changes when you enter your bedroom and find your husband throwing his clothes into a suitcase. You’ve noticed that over the past years he’s become increasingly dramatic. You let your presence be known as a chuckle escapes your lips, standing in the doorway.

“Is it because they tied you up?” You question, and a frown comes to his lips.

“I told Jin to not tell you. But yes.” He answers, and you step into the room. You shut the door behind you, locking the door just in case things escalate. “They don’t take me seriously, and I told you things wouldn’t go well if you left me alone with them but there you go, going out with your friends.”

“I can’t stay locked up forever taking care of them.” You respond, and he rolls his eyes.

“Leave them with Jin. They take him seriously.” Sukuna says, and you chuckle.

“Unpack your stuff, baby. Stop being so dramatic.” You tell him, heading over to the bathroom to get ready for bed. That’s not enough for him right now though. 

“I’m leaving and never coming back.” Sukuna sounds like a child, which is hilarious. Only those two can get that side out of him. He’ll continue no matter what you say, so you do the next best thing. You lift up your shirt, and his eyes widen for a moment before he tears them away.

“Your boobs aren’t going to work this time.” He claims, and you fix your shirt. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth before sighing, “But they do help.”

“Come here, baby.” You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him. Sukuna hugs you back, and he could sob (just for the dramatics).

“They’re so mean.” Sukuna’s head rests on your shoulder, as his hand travels under your shirt to squeeze your boob. “Can you make me feel better?”

“Can you–” You begin but before you can even finish, Sukuna pulls away and throws the suitcase on the ground. He’ll unpack later. You open your mouth to speak again but he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a rough kiss. 

His tongue wanders around your mouth, his free hand going under your shirt once again. It’s an old trick, but every time you show him your breasts, he forgets anything and everything. You don’t do it when the matter is a serious issue, but you really can’t do much about the fact that your twins are straight from hell.

Sukuna sits down on the bed, lifting up your shirt, prompting you to take it off. Once it’s out of the way, his tongue licks up your body before giving your tits attention. He rolls his tongue around your nipple while his hand plays with the other one, pinching your nipple and squeezing your boob. You really get him, knowing the exact way to get him to calm down. He pulls away, and kisses between your breasts until he gets to the other tit. He switches to your other tit and entertains himself once again.

He’s having so much fun, his mouth preoccupied with you but there’s an uncomfortable sensation between his pants. He unlatches, looking up at you with lustful eyes. Your gaze falls on the tent in his pants, making you bite down your lip.

“Help me out.” He says, and you help him unbuckle out. You pull down his pants, freeing his cock from its confinement. You kneel down in front of him, a smirk on your lips. This is a great way to apologize.

You spit on his cock before your hand wraps around the base. You lower your head, tongue circling around the tip as your hand strokes his dick. You start off so painfully slow, too painful for Sukuna. You lower your head, taking as much of his dick as you can.

You slowly bob your head, hands wrapping around the park of his cock that is outside and stroking it for him. It’s like heaven for him, though he just wants to push your head down and force you to take all of his cock. You can take it like a good girl, right? He won’t take any risks tonight.

“You can take it all.” You lift your head, and Sukuna whines. You were barely even doing anything, why did you feel the need to stop? A spark appears on his eyes, a smirk coming to his face as you cup your tits. He judged too soon.

You put his cock between your chest, squeezing your cleavage together before moving it up and down his dick. Sukuna’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tits squeezing around him. He grabs the back of your head, pulling back and telling you, “Open your fucking mouth.”

And without missing a beat, you obey, sticking your tongue out. He spits in your mouth, and you swallow immediately. This is the reason why you ended up with twins– You just do shit that makes him feel every inch of your body raw, a need. You’re so obedient and generous with him.

Your soft flesh between his cock is too much for him, and such a nice sight as he watches them jiggle. You should do this more often is all that he can think as your hands pick up speed. He’s rolling his hips, lightly moaning as his breath gets heavy. 

“Good job.” You hear, which tells you all that you need to know. He barely praises you unless he’s close.

“Cum for me, baby. Do it all over my tits.” You tell him, and he bites down his lips to not sound pathetic. Oh, he has to control himself tonight because you might end up with another child. He can’t have that. 

His hands grip the bed sheets as he finishes all over you. His cum covers your chest, all the way up to your neck. Your fingers swipes it, bringing it up to your lips simply for his entertainment, but he’s looking for something else in the nightstand.

He could die right now.

“Ran out of condoms, and I’m not risking anything.” He’s in so much pain as the words leave his lips, and you furrow your brows. Since when has this been an issue?

“You can pull out.” You remind him, but that isn’t cutting it for Sukuna.

“I said I’m not risking anything.” He couldn’t make it any clearer. Tonight was certainly… An experience to say the least.

“Can you at least eat me out?” You ask him, standing up from the ground. There’s no way you’re going unrewarded tonight.

“You have a vibrator, work it out.” He shrugs, and you glare at him. He’s pissed off with you again, leaving him with the twins was a horrible mistake on your part.

“You’re such a jerk.” You roll your eyes at him, and hearing him chuckle makes you want to hit him. You manage to restrain yourself, managing to mutter out a simple, “Fuck you.”

“Aw, they get it from you. How cute.” He says, which makes your palm lightly slap his forehead. “Hey! Maybe next time don’t leave me alone–”

“The vibrator is going to do a better job than you anyway.” You cut him off, going to the bathroom to clean yourself up… Getting all dirty and for what? 

“If you really want another pair, I’ll give them to you.” Sukuna stands up, following behind you to annoy you.

“Get a fucking vasectomy.” You respond, and you feel his arms wrap around you, stopping you from going any further. Of course he can’t leave you alone. “Sukuna, I’m going to shower.”

“I’ll help you.” 

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established...something. reader is a magic anthropologist and they're both in their thirties. this is full of cringe banter and innuendo i'm so sawryyyyyyy | wc 1.6k, reading time: 7 minutes.

“What are you doing here?”

You’ve been aware of Dante’s slow creep down the aisle of the largest archive of metaphysical knowledge this godforsaken place has to offer for some time. You finally call out to him across messy stacks of books.

Foolishly, you hoped he wouldn’t make a game out of this. He strides up to you confidently, clearly thrilled to finally have forced you to be the first to break. This is familiar territory for you and him both, where all of your “career” related activities are conducted and where he comes to find you when he’s looked everywhere else without a trace.

Leaning against the shelf, he folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side.

“I’m researching obviously.”

You look up from the shelf in front of you with a raised brow only to be met with a pair of familiar eyes trained directly at the curve of your chest and whatever peak of skin is pushed up over your neckline. 

“Yeah, researching how far you can look down my shirt from that grand height you stand at.”

Caught, the gunslinger’s eyes drift toward your face without an ounce of shame in them. 

“And what about it?”

Your stance shifts from flat footed to standing on your tiptoes, arm extended high above your head with your thumb and forefinger reaching toward the tip of his nose to flick it. As sharply reflexed as he has ever been, he dodges the attack and captures your hand in his, spreading your fingers and pressing the heel of your hand against his lips.

Allowing him a moment to sniff your wrist and shoot his best half lidded glance downward, you end it quickly by snatching your arm from his grasp and placing it down at your side. A flaming face that belongs to you turns back toward the shelves to hide your thrill at his public flirtation, insisting upon keeping things polite while you’re working billable hours.

“What do you need, Dante?”

He wishes he could press another kiss at the delicate bend of your wrist.

“A break. A drink. Lots and lots and lots of money. Right now though? Information.”

Sighing, he leans against the bookshelf and holds out his forearms for you to place the ever growing stack you’re working with upon. Wrinkling your nose, you look between him and the books and he holds out his arms and shakes his head leaving you optionless. 

“What about?” You stack a book and then another, looking up at him to find him already staring down at you. “God don’t look at me like that, just tell me what you want.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head.

“Well, you, of course.” 

It takes all of your strength not to turn and walk away if only to be left alone from his tormenting. You’re good at holding your own, especially against the gruff figures who come to you in search of knowledge of demonology or the magical arts you’ve so raptly committed your life to seeking and holding yet it’s different with Dante.

The two of you have been very good friends since the spring of your early twenties. You’ve, at the very least, slept together for almost that entire time too - entering your thirties in each other’s arms. Constantly picking each other’s brains, running from each other when things got rough and back toward each other when they’ve improved or the lonely nights wouldn’t abate on their own. He’s almost sort of a…companion despite your distaste for defining characteristics.

A boyfriend who lives a life too dangerous for attachment, his very clear one to you cast aside. A man you think about when you wake and sleep both, hoping he’ll visit your dreams on the off chance he isn’t by your side. 

Enough of that. You clear your throat to feign impatience and force him to answer.

“I need to borrow that brain and how good you are at figuring out where to find shit in here.”

Laughing, you raise both of your brows.

“It’s alphabetical. Did you forget your letters or what?”

He leans downward, a larger frame closing in and you sidestep him slightly, pretending preoccupation with the books on the portion of the shelf in front of you.

“I forget everything when you’re around.”

Scoffing, you yank a book off of the shelf. “Okay now you’re laying it on a little too thick.”

Looking around the library, you know it’s futile to refuse him. There hasn’t been a moment in the past ten years you’ve told him no in any meaningful way and surely you won’t start today.

“I’m working—” he raises his eyebrows and gasps at the words, feigning shock and you shake your head to dissuade him from continuing with his show. Working is all you’ve seemed to be doing these days, spending days and nights alike with books spread across the small expanse of your apartment leaving little time for extracurricular fun. “But I can make time to help out if you promise you’ll let me handle the research I’m being paid for first.”

“I could pay you too, y’know. My methods may be a little unconventional compared to whatever this mysterious patron is paying you with,” he raises a brow and you roll your eyes. “You’d be rewarded very, very well if you’d only put the books down for one night.”

The innuendo is dripping from his every word. If you knew less about how much he meant what he’s saying perhaps you could play it off better yet your cheeks flame. You know how his rough hands feel at the base of your spine and the dip of your waist, swearing you can feel them drag across you. 

“Oh by the way, what’s the name of that demon you needed me to research?”

Attempting to gain a little bit of control over yourself and the situation, you change the subject and pretend you can’t taste him as clear as day in your mouth, memories doing more than you need them to right now.

“It’s, uh, H…” he trails off, giving up the effort of continuing his tall tale. Another sigh, another beat passes and he furrows his brows. 

You always manage to expertly cut him down to size, a curse and a blessing all at the same time. 

“I’ve been trying to see you for weeks, honey.”

You shake your head. “Days. It has been days since the last time we saw each other and you spent the night despite saying you were leaving before I passed out.”

No chance of wiggling out of this one.

“In my defense, they’ve felt like weeks. Months.”

Shoulders sagging, you lean forward and press yourself against the bookshelf and a pitiful excuse for a frown, the upturned corners of your mouth you can’t seem to put down any time he’s around giving you away. “Sorry for neglecting you. Unfortunately, a girl’s gotta eat and pay rent.”

Of course, there’s no offer made to assist you with either of those things considering he has to work pretty hard for both of them himself. 

“And while we’re discussing it, you don’t have to pay me with that.” 

If you weren’t in public you’d say what you mean - fucking - but it’s easier to simply allude to the late nights spent taking out your mutual grief and frustration with physical release when company you don’t know may be lurking around. Shaking your head, you turn your attention back to the shelves and stack another book atop the rest. 

“In fact, if we both had more of it to spare, just spending time with you would be payment enough.”

If he’s taken aback he does his best to hide it, shifting slightly and covering his face partially by turning it in the direction of the darkened other end of the aisle. 

“See, all this time I thought you only liked me for my body,” he lets slip.

Softly giggling, you pause all other movement besides the rise and fall of your chest and the focus of your gaze upon the man beside you though his gaze remains averted.

“Nah, I hate to say it but I enjoy your company most of all.”

Now he’s drawn back, looking at you with a bit of doubt clouding those steel blue eyes to which you notice and shrug at. “We have the best conversations. You make me laugh; you never make me feel like it’s inconvenient to liste–”

Your words are swallowed by Dante’s mouth before you can get them out. Those quick reflexes worked to bring him close to you before you could even notice, soft lips pressed against a slightly drier, rougher pair. 

“Well when you put it that way,” he mutters against your lips. You laugh against his mouth, lips curving perfectly into his. 

It’s all almost too sweet to bear. Strangely boyfriend-y for a man you’re so apprehensive to refer to as such. 

A stranger breezes past the two of you in the aisle and pretends not to gawk. Despite the hairs standing up on the back of your neck, you let the natural scrap of shame you have remaining go the way everything else does when Dante’s around.

It disappears, evaporates. Leaves only the two of you behind. 

“You can stick around if you don’t have anything better to do,” you tell him, finally breaking away.

Groaning, he redistributes the weight of the books across his arms and stands up so he’s no longer slouching.

“Can’t we take them back to your place?”

Shaking your head, you rap your knuckles against the heaviest metal spine bound book at the bottom of the pile.

“Nope, the rules dictate that this one stays here and I need it the most.”

Smirking, he leans in closer to you. “Then we’ll just have to have some fun here.”

Tossing another book atop the now chin height stack he’s carrying, you shoot him a look that says everything he needs to know. The private booth in the back the two of you occupied the last time he decided to bother you at work is available today.

[luveline]

that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵

Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?

im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem

“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 

“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 

“Useless.” 

“Who, me or you?” 

“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 

You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 

He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 

“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 

He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 

He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 

You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 

“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 

“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 

“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 

“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 

“You okay?” 

“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 

Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 

Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 

He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 

“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 

You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 

For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 

“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 

“No, it's okay.” 

He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 

“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 

You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling Apart & Torn at the Seams [5/5]

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 5.6k [Series Masterlist][Jax Fic Masterlist]

warnings/tags: 18+; pregnant!Reader, angst with an eventual happy/hopeful ending, emotional hurt, threat to abort (because it's Clay), angry Jax, Clay being Clay

a/n: This is the final part of this angsty mini-series, so hopefully y'all enjoy the way it wraps up! It's also vastly longer than the other parts. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

series tag list: @kmc1989 @shadyshadyy @cwallace02sblog @staley83 @steviebbboi @bonni-98   @aria725 @mmarysha @secretlysamcro @f1samcro @dollface-xoxo @kaydallas21 @tempt-ress @sarraa-26 @uknowmesstuff @orymgraves

The red and blue flashing lights sharply tore through the black night, the colors coating everything they touched–the pavement of the parking lot, the concrete of the clubhouse, the reaper above the door, and the Sons where they stood watching the police on their compound. 

Jax stood beside Opie in front of the closed auto shop, casually finishing off the cigarette pinched between two of his fingers while his other hand was tucked into the pocket of his jeans. His eyes tracked Clay’s steps across the lot as two police officers escorted him to the back of the police car, his hands cuffed behind his back. It took everything inside of Jax not to call out to Clay, itching to taunt him one last time. But just before Clay climbed into the backseat of the police cruiser, he glanced over to where Jax stood smoking near the garage. 

Jax pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, blowing out a cloud of smoke that drifted up into the dark sky. His hard stare met his step-father's before one corner of his lips slowly drew back into a satisfied, triumphant smirk. Because he’d won, and Jax wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to sear it into his brain so when he finally found you, he could give you a detailed retelling of the look crossing Clay's face when he realized that he was finally getting what he fucking deserved for all the shit he’d done over the years.

Jax flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, shifting his attention away from Clay as he was shoved into the back of the car. He crushed the smoke beneath his shoe, grinding it into the pavement. While he still wished he could be the one to personally end Clay for everything he'd done–for everything he'd taken and tried to take from him and the others–he knew he'd have to settle for this quiet vengeance. Because it wouldn't be long until Clay was transported to Stockton prison where Jax had exchanged a favor for a favor. 

As the police climbed back into their cars, the Sons began to gather around Jax. Because with Clay gone, he'd moved up in rank–the proof soon to be stitched onto his leather. Looking around himself, Jax could see the frustration and confusion on his brothers’ faces. Clay’s arrest had come as a shock to everyone but himself, Opie, and Gemma.

“What're we gonna do about this mess?” Tig asked, eyes on Jax as he gestured a hand across the lot to the police cruiser. “He's looking at life in prison for this shit.”

It took a considerable amount of control for Jax to keep his expression neutral and not to laugh as the police cars began slowly pulling out of their compound. Clay would've been fortunate to even be looking at that long. He was lucky if he had a week.

“I called Lowen already,” Jax began, attempting to quell the guys’ fears. “She said the DA has DNA evidence all over the scene and the bodies. They even got a murder weapon with his fingerprints on it.” He shrugged, continuing with a shake of his head as he attempted his best to fake sincerity. “She said it sounded like a clear cut case.”

“She say if they're giving him bail?” Bobby questioned.

Plastering a faux somber expression onto his face, Jax shook his head again. “Nah, not for what he's getting picked up on,” he replied. “Lowen is certain the judge assigned to his case is gonna deny it because of his history.”

Tig cursed loudly, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. The tension among the Sons was palpable as Jax’s gaze passed over each man. Except for Opie, who'd helped Jax tip off the police and practically handed them everything they'd needed. Hale had been all too happy for a chance to take Clay off the streets for a crime he’d actually committed.

“We’ll do what we can to secure him protection inside,” Jax informed the guys. He shrugged a shoulder again, still putting on a show like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. “But that might be all we can do. We won’t know more until Lowen does.”

The heavy tension still hung thick in the air around the group, Tig and Juice staring down at the end of the lot where the police cruisers had disappeared a minute ago. Chibs had begun pacing in front of the garage, one hand running back and forth across his mouth like he was deep in thought, while Happy stood there against the building, a cold look in his eyes as he stared off into the distance. Jax glanced over at Opie beside him, his best friend wearing his usual stoic mask to cover up his own true feelings about what they’d done. While both men had admittedly felt some level of guilt at making this call–especially behind the club’s back–Clay had it coming. He’d been wielding his power too freely for too long.

Bobby let out a sigh before making his way over towards Jax, a grim look on his face. Jax shifted his focus over to the man who’d soon be the new sergeant at arms after Jax had made Opie his vice president. He had a feeling he knew what Bobby was about to bring up, and he tried his best to hide the fact that he was itching for the news.

“Probably not the best time,” Bobby began solemnly, “but you said you wanted me to reach out to Precious and get you in touch with Colletti to find your missing girl, right?”

Jax nodded in response, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He had asked Bobby a few days ago to reach out to his ex-wife's current husband, Sergio Colletti. The man was a decent bounty-hunter and possibly the only person Jax could think of who could track where you'd disappeared to over these past couple of weeks. He needed someone who could access more than what Juice could, someone that could actually pick up on your trail to find where you could've gone because you’d clearly been covering your tracks too damn well. He assumed you’d been doing such a good job of it because you were afraid of Clay finding you. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Yeah, you hear back?” Jax asked him.

“He said he'd set up a meeting with you,” Bobby told him. “Tomorrow afternoon. Look, I know the timing isn't great–”

“It's fine,” Jax said, cutting him off. “I can handle the Clay shit and still meet with him. I'm not abandoning my girl, Bobby. She’s been gone for two weeks now without a word. I need to fuckin’ find her and make sure she’s alright.”

Bobby nodded, that grim look still spread over his face. By the way he was standing there still looking at Jax, he knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation. All he’d told to everyone–besides Ope and Gemma–of your disappearance was that you’d mentioned being threatened before you’d disappeared. And now, he was going to pin that threat and Clay’s messy crime scene that led to his arrest on Lin and his men. They’d already been in the middle of some shit with the Triads, it wouldn’t be hard to pass it.

“Think it’s all connected?” Bobby asked, voice dropping lower. “Your girl and this shit with Clay?”

Jax made a face, shrugging his shoulders a little. “It’s gotta be,” he answered. “No way Clay was that goddamn messy dealing with that warehouse problem. And someone scared my girl off. Gotta be Lin and his guys.”

“Guess you got your hands full of shit to sort through already, pres,” Bobby said with a sigh, clapping Jax on the shoulder. “But you know we got your back. With your girl and all this other shit.”

Jax nodded at him, his eyes briefly flickering to Opie before returning to Bobby. “Yeah,” Jax replied. “I know, brother.”

Sitting on the couch at your best friend's place, you were scrolling through a listing of jobs in the area on your laptop once again. You needed something with health insurance before your pregnancy started showing and no employer would want to hire you knowing you'd be on maternity leave in a matter of months. 

You needed money. You couldn’t just keep crashing at Lauren’s place out near Modesto trying to hide from Clay. Her apartment was only about an hour outside of Charming and you weren’t entirely sure if that was far enough to keep Clay from following through on his threats. Which is why you’d been using cash whenever you needed to make a purchase over the past couple of weeks, but you couldn’t keep that up. And you couldn’t keep relying on Lauren even if she’d been more than happy to help you after you’d showed up at her door and told her everything.

You’d long since tossed your old cellphone, uncertain if Juice was capable of tracking it. Though you figured Clay probably knew a guy who knew a guy if he really wanted to find you, so you’d bought a prepay from the store that you’d been using instead. Considering how poorly things had gone when you’d tried to ask Jax for help the last time you’d seen him, you hadn’t tried to reach out to him at all, either.

You’d been curious to know how he’d reacted to your sudden disappearance. You imagined he’d been upset because you knew Jax wasn’t a heartless asshole, he’d have had to feel something when he’d realized you were gone. But had he assumed you’d taken that final argument as some sort of breakup and just moved on? Had he even tried to find you? Had he figured out why you’d left and what you’d been trying to tell him in the first place? 

But honestly, none of that even mattered because you and your unborn baby weren’t safe as long as Clay was around. He wanted to pull Jax deeper into the club, and you were already ruining that by taking up his attention. Adding a baby into the situation would only make it harder for Jax to have the singular focus that Clay demanded from him. He’d never let you back into Charming, especially not while carrying Jax’s child.

Absently picking up your glass of water beside you, you tried to stomach a few sips of the cool liquid. By now, the morning sickness had hit you in full force. There were only two periods of the day where you could reliably manage to get food into you–briefly around noon, and just around dinner time. Any time other than that? You wanted to be sick. Even water sometimes had your stomach churning.

And almost everything smelled off to you. Even your own scented soaps had your nose scrunching up in distaste when you took a shower. Food wasn't any different. The only thing that didn't smell weird was cigarette smoke, but obviously you weren’t walking around finding smokers outside just to deeply breathe in their toxic secondhand smoke. But it reminded you of Jax. Of safety and comfort and how things used to be months ago before Gemma and Clay had turned you both on each other.

Setting the glass of water back down onto the coaster on the coffee table, you heard the familiar rumble of an approaching motorcycle outside of the apartment building. Your focus returned to the laptop in front of you as you continued to scroll, searching for an opening somewhere that sounded promising. While Lauren was at work during the day, you’d been here applying to jobs online in between the napping and the puking. 

You stopped scrolling when your eyes landed on something that looked interesting–a fairly decent paying receptionist position that you were qualified for after working as Teller-Morrow’s office manager. Opening the page, your eyes scanned across it as you began reading about the position while trying to ignore the constant fatigue that came with the first trimester of pregnancy. 

You’d only gotten halfway down the page when you heard a knock come from the door of the apartment. Pausing, your eyes narrowed at the screen in front of you. That was strange because Lauren obviously had a key to her own apartment and she wouldn’t need to knock. If she’d somehow forgotten her keys, she had the number to your new phone and she’d have called you. 

Your attention drifted over the top of your laptop screen, lingering on the apartment door that someone was currently standing outside. A slow, steady stream of fear began to flood you as you felt your pulse increase along with your thoughts. Had Clay finally found you? Had he sent Tig after you because you hadn’t gotten far enough away from Charming? Was he here to kill you this time?  

Closing your laptop on the coffee table, you cautiously rose from the couch while your eyes remained on the front door. Padding softly across the wood floor in your friend’s apartment, you moved as quietly towards the door as you could. With each step closer, your heart beat harder inside of your chest, your breath nearly stopping when you finally reached the door. You placed a hand flat against it before leaning in close enough to look through the peephole and out into the hall, fully expecting to be met with the sight of a gun barrel–but it was Jax.

Taking a step back, your brows deeply knitted together in confusion. How had he found you? You had been trying to avoid using any possible way to trace yourself, he shouldn't have been able to track you to Lauren's. But despite your surprise at seeing him standing there in the hallway, you were grateful it was him who'd found you instead of Clay.

You pulled back the deadbolt before unlocking the door, swinging it open a second later. You’d somehow expected not to still see him standing there–somehow thinking you’d imagined it–but the moment the door was open, his eyes locked right onto yours. 

It felt like time had completely stopped. Both of you just stood there in silence for a long, drawn out moment simply staring at each other. What felt like an eternity later, you finally remembered to breathe as your hand tightened around the door handle. In the growing silence, Jax’s eyes began scanning you over, a myriad of emotions passing over his face in rapid succession that it was impossible to tell exactly what he was feeling. 

Your own eyes took in the state of him in return. He looked exhausted. There were dark shadows underneath his eyes and his hair looked messy in a way that had nothing to do with having just been on his bike. His facial hair had grown out, like he hadn’t bothered with it since you’d left a couple of weeks ago. He smelled very much like cigarette smoke, but instead of the intensity of the scent making you nauseous like everything else, you found yourself struggling not to just step forward and bury your face into his chest, letting the smell of him surround you while you sobbed against him.

You’d missed him so damn much these past couple of weeks. But you were still incredibly fucking pissed off and hurt over that last argument and the way he’d reacted to you. Jax had never been so cruel and cold in the past. You hadn’t recognized him that night. And in the days since then, you’d still wondered if maybe he’d gone and spent that night with someone else after he’d left.

Eventually, Jax’s eyes returned to your face and you caught the way his lips trembled. He looked like he was struggling to keep himself composed–which was not like the Jax you knew. 

“I fucked up,” he breathed out, finally breaking the silence. “I fucked up so goddamn bad, baby. I don’t even–”

He broke off, his head dropping guiltily as he shook it. Gripping the door tighter in your hold, you refused to let him inside the apartment and off the hook that easy. But when he raised his head again, you had not expected to see the tears welling in his blue eyes. The sight of the raw emotion on his face hit you right in the chest like a physical blow.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. And I know that’s not even enough to begin to cover all this shit, but it’s the goddamn truth. I fucked up that night. I was tired from the bullshit Clay had me dealing with earlier, I wasn’t fucking thinking when I came to your place. And I…” He trailed off, wincing as he looked away from you. “I shouldn’t have treated checking up on you like it was just another damn job I had to take care of that night.”

His gaze dropped down to the hallway floor outside of the apartment, his eyes briefly closing as guilt and shame washed across his features. This was easily the most vulnerable you’d ever seen Jax. He looked like he was near tears, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“You needed me,” he said, his words suddenly so quiet you had to strain to listen. “You needed me and I let you down. And I can’t change that. I can’t go back and fix that.” 

Jax sniffed hard before he looked up, his expression shifting as his eyes met yours again with an intensity and determination you’d never seen suddenly reflecting back at you. He took a step closer towards the doorway, an earnestness in his words as he continued.

“But I have spent the past couple weeks trying to make it right,” he assured you. “And I promise I’ll never let you down again, baby. Either of you.”

His eyes dropped down to your stomach and for a second you were confused before it fully hit you. The realization felt like a weight slowly lifting off of your shoulders.

“You know?” you asked him.

Holding your gaze again, he nodded. “Broke into your place when you wouldn’t answer the door or the phone for a couple of days,” he confessed, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. “Found a box for prenatal vitamins in your bathroom garbage can.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you tried to take a steadying breath. So he knew you were pregnant now, and he wasn’t freaking out, either.

“That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you,” you admitted quietly. 

He nodded once again, that small, sad smile still on his face. “I figured, darlin’.”

Hand still gripping the door tight as if it was a lifeline, you tried to process what he’d just said. So he’d known that you were pregnant this whole time you’d been gone from Charming? But then something else he’d just said passed through your mind again and your brows drew together in confusion.

“What do you mean you’ve been trying to make it right?” you asked him slowly. “Trying to make what right?”

“The shit with Clay,” he answered. “Took me far too goddamn long to realize what was goin’ on that night. That he’d threatened you. That he’d done it while knowing you were carrying my child.” He paused, his jaw clenching in anger briefly before he shoved it back down. “So while I’ve been trying to find where you’d disappeared, I was also trying to make Charming safe for you both. Because darlin’, I want you to come back. You don’t belong out here.”

You shook your head, the confusion still written on your face. “Make it safe how, Jax?” you questioned. “Clay isn’t just going to let me come back to Charming. He’s not–”

The sentence died in the air when Jax’s hand reached up, grabbing part of his kutte and lifting it up towards you. The gesture caught your attention, your eyes dropping down to the patches. Almost immediately, you noticed his ‘vice president’ patch had been replaced by one that simply said ‘president.’ You stared at it, trying to make it make sense.

“Clay was arrested almost a week ago,” Jax began, speaking slowly and clearly. “Left a lot of evidence behind at a warehouse where the police found a few bodies. Pretty clear cut case. Judge didn’t grant him bail so he got transferred to Stockton prison to wait for trial.” 

Your eyes gradually left the patch on his kutte, slowly making their way up to meet his again. He didn’t falter as he continued.

“He was attacked in the cafeteria yesterday afternoon,” he told you. “Got a call from Lowen. Stabbed a few times by a couple of guys. Bled out.”

Mouth opening in surprise, you stood there staring at him. You didn’t know how to react to that, but something in the way Jax was looking at you, after what he’d said about making things right, had you knowing that he was somehow behind Clay’s death. Jax had a hand in it. 

“You…?”

You couldn’t even finish the thought. Half of you felt a wave of relief crash into you, your past few weeks of worrying now feeling like it was finally at an end. Clay wouldn’t be after you now, you wouldn’t have to worry about him. But the other half of you felt a little nauseous at the thought, knowing you somehow played a part in it, too.

“He had it comin’ for a long time, darlin’,” Jax assured you as if he could see what you were thinking just by the look in your eyes. “Got away with too much for too long, trust me on that. But now he’s not around to make threats. He can’t hurt you. You can come back to Charming. I’m giving you your job back at TM, you’ve got your apartment to come home to, and–”

“Jax, we still have a lot of fucking problems,” you pointed out, cutting him off. “And what about Gemma? She’s just going to let me come back to work after that?”

“Gemma didn’t fuckin’ know what Clay was doing,” Jax explained, shaking his head. “Not entirely, at least. And I’ve already talked to her. She knows if she wants to be in any part of her grandkid’s life, she’s going to have to knock her bullshit off.” He sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, messy hair. “And yeah, we did have problems. Most of them caused by two people who aren’t gonna be stickin’ their damn noses in our shit anymore, but we do have some shit to discuss.”

He jutted his chin towards the apartment behind you, his brows raising up onto his forehead. It was clear what he was asking–to come in and talk. Releasing a sigh, you knew you needed him to answer just one more question before you felt comfortable doing that.

“If you want to come in, I need an honest answer,” you told him, hoping this time it didn’t end in disaster again. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to keep bringing this up, either. Whatever you tell me, I’ll believe. But I want the truth, Jax.”

The look on his face made it apparent that he knew exactly what you were going to ask before you even did. But you needed to know to finally put this all to rest.

“Did you ever sleep with anyone all those times Clay kept telling me you were?” you asked him.

“Darlin’,” Jax said, taking the final few steps towards you. His hands raised, cradling your face between them as his thumbs gently brushed over your cheeks. “Baby, I love you. I haven’t slept with another girl since we got together. I swear on my goddamn life it was all bullshit meant to tear us apart. None of it was true.”

There was a moment where you held his stare, letting the words settle around you. Then your hand finally left its death grip on the door handle before both of your arms wrapped around him, pulling him into you. He tucked you in against himself and that feeling of safety you'd always known with him blanketed you instantly despite the past couple of weeks. 

“I missed you so goddamn bad,” he said, burying his face against the top of your head, his arms nearly crushing you to himself. “Was so damn worried something had happened to you. Couldn't fucking sleep while you were gone. Kept thinking the worst.”

“Surprised you even found me,” you told him, voice muffled against his kutte.

He chuckled, his arms holding you somehow tighter against himself as you began walking him backwards into the apartment. The corners of your lips curled upwards at the sound.

“Hired a bounty hunter to find you,” he told you, a hint of a smile in his words. “Bobby’s ex-wife's new husband. That's how goddamn good you hid yourself.”

A surprised gasp flew out of you as you unburied your face from his chest and looked up at him. Jax met your gaze with a grin spread wide over his lips.

“You hired a legitimate bounty hunter to track me?” you asked him.

“Ain't a goddamn thing I wouldn't have done to find you, darlin’,” he told you. “I said I wouldn't stop until I did. And now that I have, I intend to apologize as much as I goddamn need to so you come back home. Go ahead and yell at me all you want, I deserve it.”

Part of you wanted to chew him out for how he'd let you down that night, but you figured that discussion could come later. As you buried your face back against his chest again, there was only one thing you wanted to do right now. 

“I don't want to yell right now,” you whispered. “I just want you to hold me.”

His arms pressed you against his chest as he buried his face against the top of your head again. “I'm right here, baby,” he assured you. “And I ain't fucking things up again. With either of you.”

Jax slipped his shoes off by the front door of your apartment, both of his hands full of takeout bags. His messy hair was tucked beneath his black ‘Reaper Crew’ hat as he grinned at you where you lay curled up on your couch, wrapped up in one of your soft blankets. You'd been watching pointless television while waiting for him to come over, but now your eyes were focused on the bags in his hands, your sensitive nose due to the pregnancy picking up on the smell of food.

“Took me far longer than I'd have liked,” Jax said, stepping into your living room before triumphantly raising the bags in both of his hands, “but I got it all, baby.”

“I can smell that as much as I see it,” you told him, a smile drawing over your lips.

“The tacos you've been craving,” he began to list, making his way over to your coffee table, “cheese fries, onion rings, and fried rice from that place just outside of Charming. Along with a few other things, and some cookies Gemma baked because she said you'd been craving sweet shit.”

Pushing yourself carefully up into a sitting position on the couch, you watched as Jax began laying everything out on your coffee table. He'd begun pulling containers out of bags and the smell of so many different things combined should have smelled positively disgusting to you, but instead it had your stomach growling hungrily.

“Really?” you asked skeptically, arching a brow at him when he glanced over his shoulder at you. “Cookies from Gemma? Are you sure she didn't poison them?”

“You're pregnant, sweetheart,” he reminded you, a teasing grin on his face. “Pretty sure you've got a few months before you can start to question that.”

You hummed in response, scooting closer to him along the cushion until your thigh brushed against his. His focus fully shifted from the takeout in front of him to you, his hand resting on your knee and gently rubbing it.

“How you feeling right now, darlin’?” he asked. “Still nauseous?”

Shaking your head, you leaned into his side, finding comfort in having his presence once again. You'd been back in Charming for almost three weeks now after that entire situation with Clay firing you, threatening you, and running you out of town. After plenty of serious discussions and apologies from both Gemma and him, things had steadily returned to how they used to be between you and Jax. Even with the president patch on his chest, without Clay always trying to keep him from you, Jax was around as much as you let him be–which was almost always. 

While you'd been surprised that Gemma had helped Jax and Opie get rid of her husband, when Jax had told you the truth behind their marriage–the time Clay had laid hands on her, the lies behind her back, their own slow growing apart–it had started to make sense. Especially when Jax had told you that Clay had killed his own father, something you'd never known, and that Gemma had always known that the day would come when Jax would seek his own justice for it. Her acceptance of the situation was easier to understand with Jax’s explanations, and her shift in behavior towards you began to grow even clearer.

“She loves family more than anything,” Jax had told you. “She’s not gonna pick Clay over me and a grandbaby, especially after him trying to get rid of her own flesh and blood like that. And she knows better than to sour the relationship with you now. Not if she wants to be grandma.”

“I'm just starving,” you answered him. “You timed your running around and getting back here just right for that weird window of me being able to stomach food.”

He squeezed your knee affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “Good, cause I was trying to,” he told you. “Still fuckin’ weird, though. Your morning sickness operates on a schedule as strictly as you do.”

Your knee nudged his playfully at the jab. “Funny, babe.”

Turning your attention to the food he'd spread out, you grabbed an onion ring and tossed it into your mouth. Somehow it tasted twenty times better than usual, especially with how hungry you were, and you couldn't resist the faint moan as you chewed. Jax snorted beside you, heading turning over his shoulder as he chewed on a cheese fry.

“You need a few minutes alone with the onion rings, darlin’?” he joked. “Christ, you'd think I didn't do a good enough job getting you off earlier.”

You reached out, your hand hitting the bill of his hat and playfully knocking it off of his head. Jax chuckled in response as it fell to the floor by his feet while you grabbed another onion ring, shooting him a pointed look.

“Welcome to pregnancy hormones, Jax,” you said around the bite of onion ring. “Apparently it makes women insanely horny, especially in the second trimester.”

A devilish grin spread over his face before he popped the rest of the cheese fry into his mouth. “Yeah?” he asked as he chewed. “Gonna want my dick as much as you want onion rings?”

“More than that,” you answered, returning his grin.

He hummed in response, a mischievous glint in his eyes clearly telling you he'd be testing that out later. But then his expression softened as he finished chewing his food before he leaned over and placed a kiss along your temple. His warm lips lingered against your skin for a moment and you leaned in even closer to his body beside you on the couch. 

“You staying here tonight?” you asked when he pulled away, watching him unwrap a burger from the slew of greasy food on the coffee table. “Or do you need to get back to the clubhouse? Thought I overheard Bobby saying something about managing a problem when I was in the office?”

Jax shook his head as he swallowed down the bite of burger he'd taken. You remembered overhearing something about a problem with the Triads when you'd been at Teller-Morrow this afternoon, something you probably weren't supposed to have heard. 

“Let's just say I called in a favor for a favor,” he assured you. “The problem is dead and buried, so I'm all yours tonight, babe.” He turned towards you, taking a large bite of burger and chewing with a grin on his face. “And every night after that,” he said with his mouthful.

“And they call you Prince Charming, huh?” you teased him.

He patted his chest as he chewed, that crooked grin on his face. “I'm your knight in dull leather, darlin’,” he joked, mouth still full. “What can I say?”

With a soft laugh, you shook your head before reaching over and grabbing one of the tacos on the coffee table. Things definitely felt like they used to between you both and you couldn't have been happier to no longer have anyone meddling in your relationship. Especially since soon there'd be a third addition to this dynamic, and you loved how excited Jax had been about it, surprising even yourself. 

Things were finally looking up for you three.

[iamthatonefangirl]

what if - nsfw dbf!bucky barnes

disclaimer: uncle kink. (not actual uncle, it's reader's dad's best friend.) all characters are 18+. moderate depictions of anxiety. you have been warned, read at your own discretion.

based on this ask. I missed uncle bucky so much! also this was not supposed to be sad but then I had a day so this is for all the anxious readers!!! series masterlist

~~~

"god, you're so perfect like this," he whispers like a prayer into your skin, his warm breath making you shiver.

your parents had finally gone away for the weekend, after a lot of subtle hints and encouragement from you. "it'll be good to get away, just the two of you..." is what you would tell them.

they couldn't have known you wanted them to leave for more... selfish reasons. you just wanted a weekend where you didn't feel like you had to sneak around.

you pretended to be surprised, pretended to be pissed when you were told:

"your Uncle Bucky is going to check in on you while we're gone."

"I'm an adult! I've lived by myself before!" you try to argue with them, somewhat genuinely on principle, but mostly for show. even though you were getting exactly what you wanted, you couldn't let them know that.

"either you agree, or we're not going."

and that was how you got away with spending an entire weekend alone together, naked, in your bed.

you tangle your hands in his hair once more. you've already given him enough shit for letting it get so long, but you just can't help it.

"you need a haircut," you comment to him, and he instantly pulls his head back from where he's been sucking marks on your chest. he lets out a low, breathy laugh as he looks up to your eyeline.

his hair is still damp from showering hours ago, strands dangling left and right. it's longer than you've seen it in quite a while.

"don't like it?" he teases. he knows you just love to give him a bad time.

"you're literally sporting a bob, Bucky," you laugh. "it's all the way past your chin!"

"you're a little shit," he says, bringing a hand to your bare hip. "you're going to admit you like it. one way or another."

"should give you a little man bun," you say and gather his hair into a small ball at the nape of his neck. you pretend to be annoyed as you tell him, "goddamnit, you still look hot."

"you know it, babygirl," he says, pressing his lips back to your chest.

it's nice, you think. getting to relax together, getting to pretend like you could ever have more than just these stolen moments.

your gaze trails up to the ceiling as your mind contemplates it, the fact that you even have to call these moments "stolen.” you begin to get distracted by the anxiety welling in your stomach.

you try not to let on that the stress is taking over, that you're quietly being eaten alive by your own thoughts.

but you can't hide anything from him.

"what's going on, kid?" he asks you as he pulls back.

"what if they find out?" you ask, incredibly quiet, still focusing your gaze on a small divot in the ceiling.

he pauses again.

"they won't," he assures you. he doesn't sound too confident, though.

"Bucky, they're your friends. they're my parents. and…” you trail off. you know that what you mean to say next won't help the situation.

"and?"

the anxious pit in your stomach worsens, another wave of nausea broiling in your throat.

"they trust you with me."

you know you shouldn't have said it. you knew it was a bad idea, and now you're regretting it. he speaks again before you can continue.

"they trust that I'll take care of you and protect you with my life, and I will. I would never break that promise."

it doesn't help. you wish it did.

he leans in close again. "I'm still the same person to you that I was before all this, okay?" he assures you.

you nod and turn your face towards his. the fear of being caught never fails to send you into a panic, causing that horrible pins-and-needles sensation in your hands. you try to scratch at your hands to get it to go away, and like always, it doesn't work.

"need you again," you deflect, bringing your hands to his back and pulling him up closer against you. his chest is warm against yours, the feeling soothing, but it's not enough.

"alright, pretty girl," he whispers, punctuated with a nip at your ear, proceeding to then run his tongue over your pulse point. "you know that, right? you're my gorgeous girl."

you feel his knee slot between your legs, his bare thigh pressing up against you between your own thighs. you're still dripping from the last round, the feeling of him spilling out of you. your combined release leaks onto the skin of his upper thigh as he gently grinds against you, eliciting a delicate moan from high in your throat.

"don't want anyone but my pretty girl," he tells you, running a metal thumb over your swollen lips, his fingertips then trailing down over the column of your throat in appreciation. his gaze follows the path of his fingers, admiring the sight of your skin under his touch.

his knee ever so slightly shifts between your thighs, just enough for you to feel the movement and move your hips against him in response.

"you like that? getting off on my thigh, baby?"

"mhm..." you respond, once again moving your hands to tug at his hair. "feels so good. you're so strong, Uncle Bucky..."

he smirks at that.

"and you're so delicate. look at you, baby, under me like this," he says. he gently cups the soft flesh of your breasts in his hands. "love your tits, baby. hate it when you hide them from me in those hoodies of yours. want to see all of you, always."

his flesh hand radiates heat on your skin, a sharp contrast to the coolness of his prosthetic. you feel so sensitive to his touch, every move making you feel electrified. his knee moves again between your legs, and he watches as your face reacts so strongly to the motion.

"wanna keep you laid out for me, forever, baby. just you and me. nobody else." his hands come to the back of your thighs, gripping just enough to dip his fingertips into your skin, holding your legs still.

the muscle of his thigh is so powerful against you, and you're trapped under him. it's maddening how good it feels. you're suddenly reminded of how grateful you are for all the time he spends at the gym.

"imagine that, kid," he whispers in your ear. "just you and me, like this, forever."

you feel so overwhelmed, the thoughts still pooled in the back of your mind suddenly brought back to the forefront. the physical sensation of him against you, his body pressed to yours, combined with your emotional distress is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"don't cry, sweetheart," he whispers, pressing kisses to each of your eyes as they well up. "I'm always gonna be here for you. no matter what happens, okay?"

you're not used to him being this soft with you.

for as long as you've known him, he's loved to mess with you, give you a bad time, tease you. that was his job as your dad's best friend. that wasn't going to change just because you were sleeping together, and for the most part, it didn't.

but this? this was arguably the most important job he held, one hidden under the surface of jokes and playfulness. he was a pillar for you, always. when you were a teenager, and you couldn't call your parents, you could call him. he would always be that man, that figure for you, above all else.

the thoughts of how much you care for him scare you.

"Uncle Bucky," you cry, eyes shut tightly, tears falling harder.

you don't have to say anything else. he knows.

"I'm here, kid," he tells you, manually moving your hips quicker against his thigh to bring you the pleasure he so badly wants to see replace the sadness on your face.

he's always had a soft spot for your tears.

"look at me," he instructs. you're grinding against him ardently, your body trying to seek out the climax that's building so slowly. you force your eyes open. "you're my girl. say it."

"'m your girl," you whine, and then you feel the pressure of his knee fall away from you. before you can even comprehend the change, his hand is on you, quickly burying his fingers inside you and pressing his thumb to your clit.

"that's right. come on. let me see you come, baby," he tells you, fingers working faster.

he speaks to you so softly, and it's as though all the stress and anxiety floats away when you're reminded of how much this is worth it.

"good girl," he says, feeling you squeeze around his fingers, and then your whole body lets go. you breathe heavily through your orgasm, filled with nothing but pleasure and desire for the man bringing it to you. "love watching your perfect body come for me, only for me."

he quickly wraps you in his arms as you come down, trying to stave off the inevitable return of the anxiety you can't seem to let go of. a few minutes pass like this before you speak up.

"I'm sorry I'm ruining our weekend," you whisper into his neck.

"don't say that. you're not ruining anything. you're happy I'm here, right?" he asks you, looking down at where your face is hidden. you nod against him.

"good, 'cause I am too. that's all that matters," he coos, a hand brushing over your hair. "I'm here, kid. Uncle Bucky's here."

and for a second, you feel like everything will be okay as long as he's there.

~~~

I really hope you guys don't hate this as much as I do!

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[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[444sturns]

‎┈﹒ ꒰ ours. ꒱ ﹐ ‏࿐ chratt x reader — part one.

‎┈﹒ ꒰ warning: contains slight explicit content. this is written with absolutely ZERO matt x chris action. no incest, no weird shit. summary: matt has decided to share, chris is the lucky third. they didn't realize just how hard it would be to be away from you while they're on tour. ꒱ ﹐ ‏࿐

tour life wasn’t easy — long nights on the bus, endless crowds, flashing cameras, barely a moment to breathe until they were tucked away in their bunks. for matt and chris, it was a dream come true, but it wore them down just the same. weeks blurred together, exhaustion making their bones ache, patience wearing thin. there was little room for anything real, anything grounding — you. 

matt’s girlfriend. the one person who made the chaos feel worth it, and the one person that matt trusted enough to share with his brother. 

it started months ago, before tour had kicked off. the trial run where matt sat you down and had the conversation with you. you’d never imagined him as the sharing type, and it took you by surprise. however, to his surprise, you were up for it. it was a successful attempt driven by curiosity and fantasy. chris was in heaven, getting to live out this little dream of his. after getting a taste of you, he was hooked. how you gave yourself so sweetly to him while matt watched from the side to determine whether or not he was actually okay with sharing his sweet girl, and he was; there was no turning back. it had become a silent agreement between the three of you. 

the trial didn’t end there. it continued the moment they left for tour, leaving you in L.A., waiting. not only was it your boyfriend leaving, so was his brother— the one you’d discovered is just as skilled as matt when it comes to the bedroom. 

you didn’t make it easy on either of them with your almost nightly routine of sending matt a picture of you all cozied up in one of his t-shirts or hoodies, of you in next to nothing or in nothing at all. or, his personal favorite, an audio message. matt shared them all with chris, leaving them both wanton and panting, impatient. they fucking missed you. 

matt and chris found themselves huddled on the couch in the bus, matt’s phone clenched tight in his hand while the other quickly tugged one of his airpods out of his ear to hand to chris. “put this in and just listen to her, man. how fuckin’ pretty she sounds.” matt mutters, adjusting his own airpod in his ear while chris does the same. he pressed play on the audio, and your sweet, whiny voice was like music to their ears.

“miss you a lot.. both of you, actually.” you started, and chris exhaled a long, needy sigh. it was shameful how his cock ached the moment he heard your voice.  

“really wish you were here.. doin’ all the work myself is—” you gasped, and then you whimpered. matt turned to look at chris with a knowing look, cheeks dusted pink, and chris sat up straight.

“is she—” chris started, and before he could finish, matt did it for him, “touching herself? yeah, she is.” 

chris groaned quietly, rubbing a hand down down his face. “fuck, dude.” 

matt chuckled lowly and lifted his eyebrows in agreement. your voice filled their ears again. 

“can’t—“ another whine, “—can’t wait to see you. need you. both of you.” 

the audio ended, and chris could hardly breathe. he moved lazily to take the airpod out of his ear, dropping it in matt’s lap before sinking himself against the couch uncomfortably. “can’t fuckin’ believe i’ve been missin’ out on that for so long.” 

matt grins proudly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s absolutely nothing. below the waist, though, it’s absolutely everything. he’d already played the audio message a hundred times and it was killing him. not having enough privacy was killing him. he shifted in his seat, a gruff sigh leaving his lips. “she’s fun to play with, huh?” matt asked, earning a sheepish grin from chris, “yeah, but she’s a fuckin’ tease, too. tell her i said she sounds real pretty moaning into the phone like that.” 

they both went to their bunks aching, hoping that the quicker they went to sleep, the quicker they’d see you.

when the stars aligned and they could steal a night away from the cramped bus and all the noise, you were theirs, and fuck, were they definitely going to make up for the time they’d spent away from you.

© 444sturns

⨳ ᦒ author’s note: this is basically the gentle introduction to this dynamic. lots of smut coming soon. kisses!  -eden ᵎᵎ 𖥻

taglist! ￤ഒ·°,

@mattscoquette @cherryystemm @zenithsturniolo @chrissbows @sturnsrecord @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ifwdominicfike @moond0llie @bambisturns

[hedwig221b]

stiles and derek body swap fics?

sure thing

Fuzzy Logic by Sparseparsley

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

I'm Lost In You by matildajones

He knows he should move but a part of him still feels paralyzed. He has clear feelings of not being able to move his body, of not being able to even blink. “Oh my god,” Stiles says, and he clambers to his feet, feeling dizzy. He easily finds a mirror in the room and then the most gorgeous eyes stare back at him. They’re a sea-green instead of the normal brown that he’s used to. He’s looking at his soulmate. -- Stiles wakes up in his soulmate's body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn't wake up at all.

Your Body's My Body by derekstilinski

Derek and Stiles get body swapped… Interesting things happen.

Under My Skin by Renmackree

In his defense, Stiles wasn't even trying to find his way into the supernatural tonight. He had gone to a normal party at Danny's after their summer Lacrosse practice , met a normal girl who seemed interested in him, left with her to go to her normal apartment in the hopes of having normal sex for the first time. But, then again, when has anything normal happened to Stiles Stilinski?

Might Not Make It Back by GotTheSilver

Bodyswap. Because of the fun.

Yours, Mine, Our Body by christinchen

Stiles wishes Derek could see things from his perspective. His magic decides to grant him that wish. Literally.

Trust Fall

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide. Great. Wait…does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit. Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over. They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused. Of course.

it is so quite new a thing by sheafrotherdon

In the last, lazy moment before he opens his eyes, Derek realizes something is wrong.

i feel you in every heartbeat by warlock (sapphicblight)

Suddenly his entire body felt tingly and sensitive and he could swear gravity had failed on him just then; he couldn’t feel the chair he was sitting on, or where he’d planted his feet on the floor, or the clothes he was wearing, or the pen he was holding, and then his vision started blurring and morphing into a picture of some place that was not his classroom. “Oh, shi—” “—it,” he finished with a different voice. Or, the AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they're temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it's his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

if i was you and you were me, we'd still be us by thoughtsandthings

"Derek,” Stiles said slowly. “Why do you look like the evil twin version of me?” “Go look in the mirror.” - After swapping bodies, Stiles and Derek walk a mile in each other’s shoes and learn a lot about each other (and themselves) in the process.

[masterlist link]

[saeist]

there was nothing else more calming after a long day terrorizing the entire nation of japan than being in the arms of your lover

nights like these were exceptionally rare for dabi with his line of work. it's not all the time he has the liberty to miss out what seems to be important meetings with the league to be in your arms

rest was never an option for him as one of the frontliners in his villain group. they needed him more than you do. dabi has a shit ton of responsibilities and shoes to fill

so to think he was yours tonight and tonight alone, was something you just can't miss

"what are you doing, doll?" dabi sleepily mumbles, peeking an eye open.

there you lay on top of his chest, tracing over his scars with your finger. trying to map and memorize the curves of his scars. something he was always insecure about but for the first time in his life, you didn't make it seem like it was something to be insecure about

"nothing" you coo, fingers moving up from his chest to his neck to the tip of his chin

"missed me?"

"always"

dabi lazily smiles, an arm reaching for the back of your head. he delicately strokes your hair as if you were made out of glass. his arm slowly slides from your hair to your back where he does the same thing as you were doing and starts to draw random shapes on your exposed skin

if dabi could, he would give up the world just to be like this with you if it meant it would be forever

comfortable silence falls over the room like a weighted blanket. it was too good to be true to be in such paradise even if it's just for a brief moment for dabi

dabi was falling asleep. your presence alone is like a trance that he can't break out of.

how he wishes he could get used to this

dabi's eyes snap open when he feels you touching his piercings on his ear

"you're scaring me, doll" dabi's eyes peer over to your concentrated face.

"did it hurt?" you ask innocently, eyes staring intently at the 3 silver piercings on his ear

"did what hurt?"

"getting your ears pierced"

"doll, i can't feel anything" dabi lazily smirks, watching the way your face contorts to annoyance with the way you narrowed your eyes

cute, dabi thinks to himself

"it's a genuine question, touya" you pout

"touya? that's new" dabi chuckles, fixing your position so now you were directly on top of him. "i like it"

"i just wanted to call you that" you sheepishly smile, poking his nose where you feel some studs on the side of his nose.

"then how about these? did they hurt when you got them?" now fixated on the discovery

"yeah babe, it hurt a lot when i got it" he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

you scoff and flick his nose. dabi crinkles his nose in response.

"well i think they're cool" you admit, patting his chest

dabi laughs and you laugh along with him

"i think you meant me, doll. i'm cool, not my piercings" dabi's face is smug but his eyes say a different story. the way he looks at you with pure adoration in his eyes just speaks a thousand words all at once

with a smile, you peck on his lips. just your little way to shut him up

how you wish you two could just be like this forever

[bye-bye-sugar-blue-eyes]

Plot points I hope to see in season 8b/9

(this is long because the writers have a lot to make up for)

• Airport scene

• Eddie gives Buck his St. Christopher necklace

• Buck's coping mechanism of briefly turning into slutty Buck 1.0 after Eddie leaves. Only this time it's with guys that resemble Eddie but he doesn't notice. Maddie does. And she wishes desperately that she wasn't pregnant so she could drink

• Buck actually uses the word bisexual or bi to describe himself

• Finally getting to see Eddie's sisters. And maybe while he's in Texas he facetimes Buck and they come into frame. And in true little sister fashion, they embarrass him: "Oh, Edmundo! Is this the Buck we keep hearing about? He IS cute!"

"I never said that!"

Buck: "...you don't think I'm cute? 🥺"

• Maddie, Sofia, and Adrianna meeting and bonding over their dumbass brothers

• Everyone else finds out that Buck is in Eddie's will and they all just stand there, mouths agape cuz how THE FUCK do they not know they're in love?? Everyone else can see it!

• Buck tells literally everyone at the 118 about his feelings for Eddie because he needs advice. And Chim makes a joke like,

"He already has everyone crushing on him! Why can't someone have a crush on me for once??"

"...dude, you're my brother-in-law."

"So?? We don't have to tell Maddie!"

• Buck admits his feelings but Eddie ends up not leaving so Buck avoids him out of embarrassment like jk pranked ya!

• Buck NDE because I NEED to see Eddie lose his shit

• Or they both have a close call and later have a serious 'spousal' discussion about what would happen to Chris if they both died. And then they share a moment of comradery, trash talking Helena & Ramon and hoping they never get custody again

• Speaking of Shitty Parents 2.0 (Shitty Parents 1.0 being the Buckley's) we need more screen time hating on Helena. Ramon got multiple scenes showing how awful he is and Eddie calling him out on it. But Helena is a selfish woman that keeps trying to manipulate Eddie into giving her Chris. And even when Eddie tries to keep in contact with his son while he's in Texas she just brushes him off and doesn't try to get Chris to talk to him. All because she got her way so she doesn't care, pushing Eddie further into his pit of self-hatred. And for that she must be punished

• Eddie talking to Bobby about his Catholic guilt in relation to his sexuality. And then going to Michael for advice about the transition of believing he's straight and having a heterosexual marriage and family to where he is now. The 3 of them need to go on a fishing trip or something. They'd have it all sorted out within the weekend

• Eddie and Maddie having ANY kind of interaction on screen. The writers know that if they teamed up they'd be besties instantly and they're keeping that from us!

• Chris needing dating advice but as soon as his dad tries to help he cuts him off like: "Not from you, you're obviously gay and all of your straight relationships sunk like the Titanic. But thanks anyway. Hey Buck!"

"Wtf? His relationships weren't great either!"

• Eddie having more discussions with Hot Priest™️ about his guilt and he just smiles fondly at Eddie, "I don't know about you, but my god doesn't judge. Not when someone lives their truth. I think you're more afraid of your family's judgement. If I were you, I'd go back and think of every time I thought God was judging me and consider the possibility that I was putting Him in place of my parental figures." and Eddie just blue screens for many minutes as Hot Priest™️ patiently waits for him to catch up as if he hadn't just changed his entire fucking life

• A scene where either Hot Priest™️ or Bobby or Buck asks him: "Would you judge Christopher if he questioned his sexuality?" "What? No." "Would you tell him to go to confessional or try to pray it away?" "Of course not!" "Would you ever discourage him to be anything less than who he truly is? Or stop him from doing something that makes him happy?" "No!" "Then why do it to yourself? Why set that example? Even if it turns out your parents or Abuela aren't comfortable with you exploring your sexuality, you can always do better than them. Break the cycle for the one person who matters most to you. Be happy, be yourself, be what you want to be, not what others expect from you. And I know you, you won't do it for you. So do it for Christopher. Show him that it's okay, great even, to be you."

• Josh getting all giddy while talking to Eddie like he did when Buck asked for gay dating advice

• Eddie talking to Hen and Karen about how they coped with their foster kids leaving. Like, how do wake up every morning to a quieter house and empty bedrooms, knowing the breakfast table is going to be lonely? They exchange bittersweet looks and hug him

I will accept no less than 80% of this becoming canon. Thank you and good night.

[bluebellhairpin]

Rick Grimes X Fem!Reader

Summary: You come home from a run, a really, really bad run - and Rick is there to help bring you back to yourself (aka. a lil oneshot where Rick helps you after a bad day). (wc.2.6k)

Warnings: Blood (a lot). Death (of fake characters whomst I made up just to die in this fic lol). Walkers. Angst to comfort. Reader is fem body coded (+ if pronouns show up they're probably she/her, so brace yourself) + drinks hot chocolate. Set in a picturesque Alexandria era.

Listening to: 'Stay Alive' by José González - "I will stay with you tonight. Hold you close 'til the morning light. In the morning watch a new day rise. We'll do whatever just to stay alive."

Masterlist || AO3 link

You’d heard of bad runs. You had experienced seeing firsthand some of the worst of what the new world had to offer, but you’d never been on a bad run.

Yesterday, though, was a bad run. The worst you’d been on, ever.

When you set out yesterday morning you weren’t expecting it to be a bad day. Supply runs were tricky things, either everything could go well or it could turn to shit really fast - but it was always shit the group could walk away from.

The night before leaving you fell asleep thinking about all the ways things could go wrong, how to prepare yourself to deal with it, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what actually happened.

When the gates of a safe Alexandria finally opened, and you drove the car inside, inside you emerged feeling harrowed and hollow, and almost every inch of you was covered to some degree in blood and dirt. Clean glistening streaks ran down your cheeks and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

God, you wished you could forget it all.

You felt so lucky that Rick watched out for you so much, because you never would’ve made it to the pantry with the supplies you barely managed to grab. His first question wasn’t asking after where you’d been. He’d been on runs, he would’ve known exactly why you were delayed so long.

“Where are the others?” you heard him ask.

For a moment you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your mouth. Then you looked up, feebly attempting to look him in the eyes when really you could only look past him.

“What’s left of them,” you started, voice crackly and horse, and if you were able to focus you would’ve seen how Rick’s face softened, “is in the trunk.”

Your vision focused on seeing Rick looking at you with an expression caught between an apology, disbelief, and understanding. Behind you, you heard someone pop the back of the car open.

“Oh god.” Someone said, “Who is that?”

Rick walked past you, careful not to bump you. A fresh wave of sadness washed over you. Feelings of regret and inadequacy over not being good enough to have saved the others you went out with, guilt for not having done more and being the only person to return.

Tears started to form again. Your hands flexed, opening and closing. All you could focus on now was the tacky feeling of blood that hadn’t quite dried yet. It stuck between your fingers, and you could feel it creasing in your palms.

“I need a shower.” you said to no one in particular, then walked away on unsteady legs.

You’d know Rick from before. You’d been with him a long time. From finding Sophia, to Terminus and everything in between - you knew what ‘bad’ looked like. Or at least you thought you did.

The expectation that you’d seen the worst was a foolish one. In this world, there was always something worse.

It was the first time anyone from Alexandria had ventured so far in that direction - brand new land and houses to explore and scavenge off of. Your guards were up, there wasn’t any sure way to know what to expect. You all tried to be careful. You thought you were being careful.

A warehouse housed the possibility of boxed supplies. Maybe food, maybe ammo, possibly construction or farming materials. It was worth checking - until it was too late.

It probably happened ages ago, but the structure was unstable. Worst of all, the floor was unsteady, and laid on top of a basement. A basement full of walkers. Unfortunately, finding that out cost you a life.

By the time you and your other run partner’s pulled Thomas back up through the floorboards he fell through, his legs were torn to shreds. Fruitlessly, you pulled his belt from his pants and tried to turn it into a tourniquet but it was useless. Blood was everywhere, including on you, and his legs looked like a chewed up dog bone. He passed out soon after, and started going cold in a matter of minutes.

Your second mistake was not getting out of there the moment you pulled your friend free. The smell of his blood was so potent even you were wincing - but it had stirred the walkers below into a violent, hungry frenzy.

They knocked into the rickety basement supports, clawed at the beams, pushed at each other and stepped over anything and everything. The floor groaned, and crashed down over the pressure, blocking you on the side of the floor with no exit. Their groans and shrieks were deafening. It took everything in you to try and think straight - to be calm so you could act rationally.

The other woman on the run though, wasn’t thinking straight at all. Teresa was already a skittish thing, an original Alexanrian and only having been outside the walls a few times. She probably hadn’t seen that many walkers before, let alone dealt with them. Before you could speak she ran to the edge of the hole in the floor, already sliding across the small gap between the void and wall. You told her to stop, to come back, but she didn’t listen.

You made it to her just as she slipped.

Your fingers dug into her arm and wrist but she was slipping. Your other run partner came over, reaching for her other arm. Despite how she screamed, you thought it looked like she’d be okay. You fooled yourself into thinking you’d get her out. But Ben’s hold on her arm slipped, and your shoe slid across the ground.

She dropped down a few inches. Walkers reached up, dug their fingers into her hips and thighs, and ripped. Your jaw hurt with how hard you strained to pull her back up. Focused so solely on getting her back on your level that you didn’t notice when her screams of fear turned into screams of pure agony.

Hand on your knees, breathing hard, you looked down at her. Her eyes were lifeless, blood dribbled from her mouth, and below her ribs laid nothing but a mess of organs and muscle. She’d been torn clean in half.

Beside you, you could hear Ben start to mutter and curse, panicking too as if he didn’t just witness the exact reason why not to panic. You just stared down at the woman who you just helped kill. Teresa, and Thomas behind you had both died, torn to bits and bled out. The floor below you was getting more unsteady by the second, and there was no way out that was less risky than what the woman just tried.

Slip a foot out of place by an inch and you’d die too.

Rick walked in, watching from the doorway while you slowly fingered through your drawer of clean shirts. You’d get them dirty if you weren’t careful. Or if you moved faster - but it looked like you were stuck in a bubble of slow motion.

“What happened?” He stayed near the doorway, speaking quietly and giving you a wide berth with his arms crossed. He watched your shoulders move, heard a faint but shaky inhale and exhale.

“Was just a bad run.” you eventually said. Your voice was quiet, but had a bite like you were on edge. He resisted from tsking out loud - you weren’t fooling him.

“It was more than that. A bad run is just coming back empty handed.” he said, inching slowly closer. “You haven’t said a word about what happened but I can already tell it’s the worst we’ve had since we got here.”

Your hands moved from your shirts to the edge of the dresser. Rick could see how your knuckles tightened, how the dried blood covering your skin flaked and cracked. You weren’t going to talk, not now.

He stepped forward, resting a warm hand on your lower back. You let him. He stood closer, close enough to press his front to your arm and kiss your temple. You let him do that too, though you never raised your head or looked up at him.

“Get out of those clothes and shower. I’ll get these for you.” He saw your throat move, swallowing with difficulty, but you nodded. You leaned into him a bit first, seeming to take in his warmth and presence.

Then you pushed off the dresser and went into the bathroom.

On top of the porcelain of the bathtub, the water ran pink. It dripped from your hair and ran down your legs. Dirt and blood swelled, getting caught in the far end of the tub before finally making its way down the drain.

You stood there doing nothing except breathe and watch until, eventually, the water ran clear on its own. You still didn’t move.

You heard the door creak open, but in the safety of your own home you paid it little mind. The shower curtain pulled back, and you heard a sigh.

“Sweetheart, sit down.” Gentle hands took your upper arms, and you slowly sunk to the floor of the bathtub.

You knew the things Rick had done in the past, saw them, heard them. He could be a brutal man sometimes, but with you he could be so sweet. Calming. Now he was gentle as he painstakingly took however long needed to rid your body of blood and dirt. From your hair to your fingernails, he was meticulous, barely a speck was left.

It was like he was slowly helping you feel less numb and more like a human again.

When he was done, he shut off the shower and wrapped you in a mountain of towels, drying you off and dressing you. Something like twenty minutes later, you both sat on the couch while you cradled a very watered down cup of hot chocolate.

Rick’s arm was around your shoulder, fingers idly brushing your arm, as you slowly sipped your drink. He stayed quiet, he was waiting for you to start talking, you knew that. Quietly you thought to yourself that the drink felt like it was helping you more than the shower did.

“I wanted to bring them back, to bury them.” you started softly. “I needed to kill the walkers to get to Ben, that’s why it took so long to come back.”

You could tell from the way his fingers stilled that he wanted to know more, and that he was resisting pushing you for the answers. He’d need to know eventually, so you decided to rip it off like a bandage.

“We didn’t check things properly before we went in. It was an unstable building, walkers were on the floor below us. We got trapped, it cost the others their lives.” you explained. Stopping to watch the liquid in your cup swirl, you felt your lips turn into a deep pout. “I know better. I should’ve checked.”

“I don’t want to hear that. You did what you could.” Rick’s hand moved to cradle your face, pressing your head into the side of his own. You cradled your cup close to your chest and pulled your knees up to rest on his thighs.

“I did my worst.” Your voice sounded so small at your admission that it made you tear up all over again.

“But you tried your best.” he said, “And you got back to me. That’s all that matters now.” His hold around your legs and across your shoulder had your body pressed close to his.

Really you knew that there wasn’t anywhere safer than inside your house, but the way Rick held you made you think perhaps there was someplace safer. Right inside his ribcage perhaps. Being held like this though was a close second. It didn’t just make you feel safe, but loved. Wanted. Less like you’d done something horribly wrong yesterday. You’d cried very quietly to yourself on your drive back to Alexandria, but it was like Rick was coaxing a good hard cry from you.

It worked, because before you knew it your shoulders were shaking, and Rick had taken your mug away so you could grab onto his shirt as you cried hard and proper.

“I can-” you sobbed, “I can still hear the sounds of my knife going through their heads.” Your nose pressed into his collarbone, and his hand came up to cradle the back of your neck. Holding you in place and letting you let everything out with soft shushes. “I’ve never had to kill so many of my friends in such a short time.” You felt Rick’s breath come out shaky against your forehead.

The urge to keep a fallen friend alive through an undead revival was tempting - it had tempted many before now, even you, especially because of how hard it was to kill. The walkers were once people - the monsters they are now makes that hard to remember, but having them alive and breathing and your friend just minutes before made it hard to deliver a final blow.

You killed walkers because if you didn’t, they’d kill you instead. The people, living breathing people, you’d killed because if you didn’t, they’d do so much worse. But your friends? You’d never had to kill your friends before. Rick had. He knew what it was like. He knew the weight that sort of thing put on someone's shoulders. But three in such short succession? Not even Rick could own up to needing to have done what you did yesterday.

“I wanted to be stronger than this.” Your voice came out like a sob, broken and wet, dripping in heartache and sorrow, laced with something akin to longing. “I wanted to be like you.”

Immediately, Rick’s hold on you shifted. Instead of being pressed to his chest with your face in his neck, both his hands came to your cheeks to hold your face directly in front of his. He looked into your eyes, thumbs brushing away the tears soaking your face.

“I don’t want you to be like me. I never want you to be like me.” he said. His voice was gentle, but through your tears you saw his eyes were hard and determined - like hearing you say you wanted to be like him had offended him. “You are better than me. I love you so much for it. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.”

“Rick -” you tried to speak, but between the emotions you were feeling and all the gross gunk that your cry had brought up, there was no speaking for you. Rick had no problem wiping away the mess on your cheeks and lip, and he didn’t care that your words failed you either.

He wasn’t done himself anyway.

“You’re brave, and kind.” he said, eyes flickering all across your face as he spoke, taking in every spot and line, “Beautiful, and unique. More than anything else, your courage is to never be understated. You’re the most courageous person I know. Through all your pain, and grief, and fear you keep going, and god, no matter what happens to me I pray I can have the same courage that you do to keep going like you do.”

You were glad your mug was gone, because how fast your hands flung around Rick’s shoulder’s would have sent the ceramic crashing across the room. His arms wrapped tight around your ribs, squeezing to hold you close.

Then, calm. Like some sort of veil came down around you, everything seemed a little more OK than it was moments ago. Carrying around guilt in this world wouldn’t do you any good, nor the little patchwork family you’d found here in Alexandria. Doing it alone wouldn’t help anyone.

But letting Rick carry a little bit of that weight made everything feel a little more worthwhile.

[misteria247]

So I'm going to ramble a bit cuz I've been noticing that there's a lot of split opinions on Timmy Turner that rage from people adoring him flaws and all to people thinking that he's a little shit. So I decided to throw in my thoughts cuz it's been awhile since I've analyzed a character and I've got some thoughts fam lol. Please don't take this personally cuz this is just my opinion.

I think one of the main reasons why Timmy gets such a mixed reaction from fans is because a lot of his actual story is played like a sitcom. It's not placed in a more serious way, though there are moments where it is, it's quickly glossed over. If you take away the sitcom setting and the attempts of comedy and whatnot you actually get a rather horrible reality for this 10 year old boy. And with it suddenly a lot of his actions and attitude makes a lot more sense.

Timmy when introduced is a 10 year old. He's a child but he's also old enough to know the basics of right and wrong. Much like any kid. He gets his fairy godparents, Cosmo and Wanda because he was deemed to be a child in need of help. This whole scenario is played for laughs and whatnot but like, Timmy's life is actually horrid. He's abused by his babysitter, is tormented by school bullies, is essentially harassed by his teacher and is neglected by his own parents. This is his every day life, from the moment he was old enough to understand this was what he was exposed to and forced to accept. In a way Timmy was forced to grow up a bit faster because of it but not to a point where he completely lost the magic of childhood. When you think about this in a more serious way, things start to click together more.

Timmy's behavior when he gets snappy or creates mischief is a way to get attention from his parents. It's not a good kind but it's something. Or when he acts cold and selfishly, while it could be chalked up to being a kid, I could also argue that he might have actually learned it. Cause who else in his life puts their wants and desires before others? Who else doesn't think about the consequences of their actions and how it'd effect others? Who else ignores other people's thoughts and feelings when it comes to things?

His parents.

Timmy's parents do this shit constantly. From leaving him with abusive babysitters, to not really interacting with him, to making jabs about how their dreams died when he was born to a bunch of other shitty things. They forget to feed him and always criticize him, they're always jumping at the chance to essentially get away from him. All these things are things Timmy's witnessed and has been on the receiving end of for a decade. And never once does his parents really suffer any consequences. It's a known fact that children watch their parents and absorb information from it. Timmy's behaviors can very well be behaviors he unintentionally learned from them. Which is so sad because whenever Timmy's not acting like this, it's quite clear that he's actually incredibly different.

It becomes clear that Timmy's actually incredibly kind.

There's so many moments where he shows his kindness. From lending Cosmo and Wanda to Tootie, to helping fairies in Fairy World to literally giving his fairies the baby they always wanted to saving the whole world several times with little hesitation. Timmy at his core is a kind boy, but due to his home life and its constant reminders of the people in his life not wanting him. (Hell there was a whole ass episode about the world being better if he hadn't been born, like can you imagine that, it's fucking awful-). So in a way Timmy hides that kindness and rarely shows it because of these things.

Which is why Cosmo and Wanda and eventually Peri are so fucking important.

Cosmo and Wanda from the very beginning where different from everyone else. These fairies while granting some reckless and dangerous wishes, have always had Timmy's best interests in mind. Cosmo and Wanda are the positive influences that Timmy desperately needs, the adults that he actually needs to help encourage and push him towards the right direction. Cosmo and Wanda are always in Timmy's corner, even when he's made a mistake, and are always there to catch him and remind him that he's loved and wanted. In one episode where Timmy sneaks into his godparents castle, at the end when they're putting the picture of Maryann back into the hall of infamy, Timmy's first reaction is to apologize and believe that because he'd made this one mistake that he'd end up there with the other bad kids. Only to immediately be told no, baffling Wanda and Cosmo with the very idea of it.

It's things like this that help Timmy grow and feel comfortable with making mistakes. Cuz what he thought isn't exactly a normal thing. They help Timmy in so many ways and grow to love him as their very own cuz when Timmy allows himself to be well himself he's a rather endearing kid. It's no surprise they get so attached.

There's a lot of other things that I've got in my noggin but I just wanted to say these things for the time being. Maybe I'll update on this later lol.

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

@robins-scoop

Kink Discovery- Pt. 2 (Hands)🤩

C.S.

Summary: Chris notices that you seem to be looking at his hands a lot.

TW: smut

"Ma? Hellooooo-? Earth to ma?" Chris nudges me, his hand pushing my shoulder. His long fingers touching me- fuck.

"Yeah? What is it, Chris?" I force myself to focus on his face.

"You good? You seem really, like, far away."

"Yeah, I'm fine. One hundred percent. I'm good!" I assure him. He squints at me.

"Uh huh...well, do you want to play a couple games with me?" He lets his lip pout slightly.

"I suck ass, but sure. Since you asked so nicely." I tease him slightly. I don't want to get him riled up, but I don't want him to notice my affliction.

He hops up and runs to his room. I take a moment to myself. I need to stop looking at his hands. I need to stop thinking about them wrapped around- Stop. Shit. I get up and force myself to follow the path I know leads to his room.

"What were you wanting to play-?" The last word trails off as I close the door. He's leaning, trying to reach something, but his hand is gripped so tightly around the edge of his desk; I can't help but stare. How could I not?

His head pops back up, and he stands up straight. He smiles all lopsided and it's so soft. He lets go of his desk, flexing his hand out, spreading his fingers and stretching. I want those fingers in- No.

"Hey, you up for a game you'll actually be decent at?"

"Uh, sure?" He pulls up the game. "What is it, exactly?"

"The sims." He grins at me. My chest swells up and I swear I must be dying.

"I love you." I kiss his cheek and he wiggles happily. I sit down and we start playing. Sadly, the sims can only hold my attention for so long. It's about 45 minutes later when my eyes start drifting to his hands.

I can't help it. They're just so pretty. They're perfect, honestly. Perfect to- Nope. Not going there. Come on, just focus on the game. His hands are right there though. Nearly so close I could taste them. God, I wish.

"Ma?" I'm staring. Shit. "Something on my hand-?"

"Nope. No. Nothing. Nothing at all." I quickly respond. I am so smooth, clearly. My cheeks are warm, they must be red. Chris sticks a hand out and touches my scorching face.

"Are you sure?" He moves his hand to my forehead. "You feel warm, babe." He lets his hand slide down the side of my face, coming to cup my jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth. I can't bite back the noise rising from my mouth.

His face contorts, and his eyes gleam with a new understanding. He places his thumb in the center of my bottom lip, slowly moving it downward. "Open."

My mouth is left agape, and he sneaks his thumb in. "Suck." My body is on autopilot, my mouth automatically sucking on the digit. "Good girl." I moan around his thumb.

I reach for his other hand. He gives it willingly and I move it to exactly where I want it. Now, one hand is occupied with my mouth and the other it up my shirt.

He pulls his thumb back. "Chris no-" I whine, trying to follow his hand. He gives me a look that stops me in my tracks. He adjusts himself in his sweats before returning his hand to my face.

This time, he points two fingers into resting on my lip. I open my mouth before he says anything. He begins to lightly thrust the two fingers into my mouth, never going to far back as to avoid my gag reflex overreacting.

"God, I wish this was 'm dick." He groans. I moan around his fingers, letting my hips oscillate. He groans as he watches my movement. I reach one hand out and place it on the same spot he had previously adjusted. "Shit, your hand is warm."

He moves his own hand down until it's at the apex of my body. I suck harder on his fingers, swirling my tongue around them as a means to deal with myself.

"Fuck ma, just like that. Can't wait to have you do that on 'm dick. Fuck. Need your hand under ma." I move my hand under his waist band. My palm is warm, my fingertips slightly cold, and he hisses as they brush across his sensitive head, spreading the wetness there across the whole length.

It's not long of my hand on him that Chris finishes into my palm. As he finishes, he begins moving his own hand faster than it previously was. "Aw fuck." He groans. "Need my fingers in you ma." He pulls my sweats and underwear down.

No time is wasted, his fingers immediately finding the source of my wetness and plunging in deep. He draws out loud and long noises from me. He forces out moans and groans, whines and whimpers, begging and pleading. Finally, I squeeze his fingers so tightly inside of me that I think I must have crushed them.

"Have a nice time with my hands, I presume?" He teases, kissing my head and removing both of his hands.

"I love you." It's all I can manage.

"I love you too, ma."

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Gamigin NSFW alphabet

Aftercare

what they're like after sex

Since most of the sex happens in the shower, aftercare is getting dryed off. He'll use his staff to heal any possible injuries the two of you might have gotten during the activity before you both fall asleep cuddling.

Body Part

their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's

His favorite body part are his hands. He can heal people with them, what's not to love. His hands are so useful and he sometimes just stares at them with admiration. He also loves all his scars.

His favorite body part on you is your hair. He likes how it looks wet and how fluffy it gets once it's dry and how it feels on his fingers. When you cuddle, he constantly plays with your hair. It's his second favorite stim toy (the staff is the first)

Cum

anything to do with cum, basically

When he found out that you need devil energy to survive, he started masturbating more and putting his energy in bottles. He has a calender where he marks all the times you've needed energy and, if he's not free, he'll send you a bottle to keep you going until you meet. He spams you with messages the moment he has free desprately asking you if you took your "treatment" as he calls it.

Dirty secret

pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

He has no secrets, everything is public, especially to you. Being close to Gamigin means hearing all his brain farts. Whenever he has an idea for a possible sex session he just writes it to you and asks for feedback.

The wildest one that he still wishes he could do is to have sex in his dragon form. He might be small, but he can figure something out.

Experience

how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?

He's a virgin, he has no fucking clue what he's doing but he's having the time of his life. The first time he got an erection thinking about you he went to Lucifer and asked for a check up. After he got the talk from his dad brother he started reading biology books about it. He feels so proud when he comes up to you and states that he wishes to copulate with you.

Favorite position

this goes without saying

He likes positions where he can hug you easily. He loves cuddle sex in perticular because he gets to do two of his favorite things: cuddling and having sex with his favorite person. He doesn't have a preference for topping or bottoming so it's just a matter of the moment.

Goofy

are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?

He's constantly cracking jokes during sex. He can't be too serious when he's with you. His favorite game is to try and come up with the weirdest yet sweetest nickname to use during sex. If anyone passed by the room you were making love in, they would hear shit like "You feel so good, my pention plan!" "That's it, my mitosis!"

Hair

how well groomed are they?

He doesn't shave and if you told him to he will whimper. He likes how his bush feels, let him have his fun. Might trim it, and complain grieve his lost hair, but he'll do it for you. He tryied waxxing once but Gamigin's scream could be heard from the other side of the country, so he never tried it a second time.

Intimacy

how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect

He constantly kisses you, praise you, hugs you during sex. He makes sure that by the end of it you know that he loves you the most. No matter how exhausted he is after sex, he'll make sure to kiss you once on the cheek and whisper "I love you" in your ear. You never doupt Gamigin's love for you during those moments.

Jack Off

masturbation headcanons

He didn't use to get boners before starting to date you. He mostly masturbates to give you energy when he's too busy to have sex or when you're someplace else. He doesn't like jerking off because you're not there with him and it makes him feel lonely.

Kink

one or more of their kinks

Shower sex is the canon one, but I will like to add praise, hair pulling and dacryphilia. He loves you so he praise you a lot and being called a good boy makes him melt. He loves the texture of hair so he always has one hand wrapped in your hair, he also loves getting his haired pulled but not very roughly. He likes licking tears and your tears taste the best.

Location

favorite place to do the do

Somewhere where you can bathe together. Be it the shower or the lake, he likes being in wate with you. His second favorite place is in his cottage. He likes the calm atmosphere and the fact that ypu two can be as loud as possible.

Motivation

what turns them on, gets them going

There are times where he laughs so much when he's with you that he gets a boner. It's in the moments where you're having a lot of fun where he realises how much he adores you and the mere fact that he has someone that he can hang out with like you makes him aroused.

No

Something they wouldn't do, turn offs

Degredation. He loves you too much to say mean things about you and he will feel bad if you started calling him names during sex. He's also very against hurting you or getting hurt. He has a very important role, and he doesn't want to explain to Lucifer where he got cuts from. At most a bite here and there, but don't hit him too hard because he'll take it seriously.

Oral

preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.

He likes to give since it's a way for him to show his love for you. He is quite sloppy and has no clue how to pleasure you with just his tongue, but he's putting his whole pussy into it. He asks Marbas later how it's done and he returns with far better skills. The most important part of Gamigin is that he is willing to learn.

If you were to give him head, he just busts in a minute. It feels so good???? And it's so wet and warm???? And he can hold your hair and you moan and it vibrates and- oh, he came. The next day he pampers you and thanks you for being the best.

Pace

are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?

He's all over the place. He would much rather you set the pace since he gets lost in the moment very fast. Even though he tries to be slow, he usually ends up humping you like a bitch in heat by the end of the session. The only way to make him slow down at that point is to flip him over or try to manhandle him, which is surprisingly easy. Even in the moments where he's lost in pleasure, he would never dare hurt a hair on your body.

Quickie

their opinions on quickies, how often

Since he gets exhausted by sex easily, he can't have a lot of quickies. He's the favorite child in the Paradise Lost found family, so Lucifer will give him a pass for not being on time for certain appointments, but he can't have his best doctor sleeping so often.

Risk

are they willing to experiment? Do they take risks?

He is! He sneaks into Marbas' room and steals some porn magasines for ideas. He doesn't find them arousing since they're not you, but he gets ideas for future sessions. He sees sex just like dates so he wants to try everything out with you. He sends you pictures of the pages he thinks you'd like and asks if you want to do it.

He's not even that scared of having public sex since 1. Everyone already can hear when you're having sex and 2. They would all coo at how cute you two love birds are. They might even stop by and give advice.

Stamina

how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

He can go for one round which, depending on how long the forplay was, lasts between 3-6 minutes. He's still getting used to this, so his stamina will improve over time, but as it is, he is very human in his preformance.

Toys

do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partener or themselves

When everyone in Paradise Lost found out that Gamigin wasn't a virgin anymore, Marbas gifted him a vibrator and told him how to use it. Gamigin tried to use it on you, but the sound and vibration felt very uncomfortable for him and he threw the toy away. Maybe he'll try a dildo or something, but no more vibrating things or he'll cry from how ichy it sounds.

Unfair

how much they like to tease

He doesn't. He will never tease you even if you're into it. He just can't act serious or mean around you. He once tried to be a hard dom and he couldn't even get through the first minute without bursting out laughing. "I bet you'd like to take a ride on my magic dragon (wheeze). Mc, I love you, but this isn't happening."

Volume

how loud are they? What sounds do they make?

He whimpers so much. He's loud and vocal all the time, but he tends to whimper and whine the most. He'll praise you through gasps and try to catch his breath as he's ingulfed in pleasure. When he cums he clings to you with all his strenght as he lets out the most pathetic moan imaginable. He giggles and pants while he recovers from the orgasm he just experienced.

Wildcard

a random headcanon for the character

He'll probably be very sad if you had sex with other people while in a relationship with him, unless it was someone from Paradise Lost. It's not sharing, per say, since you're not an object to be shared, but he'll start having doupts about himself if you started going to other devils for love. His brothers don't count because he trusts them to let you be afterwards.

X-ray

let's see what's going on under those clothes

I still haven't seen a penis, that hasn't changed. I think he's a more normal size though, like 10cm or something. You will not need hospitalisation after a round with him, thank God.

Also, all his underwear is blue, he is dedicated to the colour pallet.

Yearning

how high is their sex drive

He only starts having sexual thoughts about you once you become friends. His libido is all over the place. It usually spikes when you're away from him since he misses you. But I wouldn't really call it his libido, since he could very well be satisfied if you just hang out in the cottage. He strikes me as the type to forget about sex until his partner mentions it.

Zzz

how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

If you don't have sex in the shower, he falls asleep almost instantly after sex. He makes sure his scheduel is clear for the day before having fun with you since he knows he'll be sleepy afterwards. After sex he's also very clingy so he'll cry if you try to walk away from him.