#so i'll always think about both of them when i think of one of them.

[burgojo]

VICIOUS KISSES. GETO SUGURU / M!READER

summary. no matter what happens, no matter what he does, he will always be your one exception.

tags. smut | top reader, bratty bottom geto, doomed yaoi or something, angst, childhood friends to complicated to lovers, reader is mentioned to have siblings + come from a non-sorcerer family, mentions of canon-typical violence, wilfully ignorant domesticity with a serial mass murderer but he's in love so it cancels out, geto in a jockstrap, sex toys, they're both possessive, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, reader has a huge cawk and geto has a fat ass yeehaw (they're soulmates)

wc. 11.5k (it's a chunky one)

Since you met as children, Geto Suguru has always known you to be the dependable type. An extra serving of the snack your parents bought that he loved, the neat and detailed class notes you brought to his house when he was sick in bed, stern reminders the day before tests. You were all of these things, and he knew you loved him dearly.

He wonders, staring at your pained expression behind your front door, if this would be the end of whatever unspoken thing you had between you.

His grip tightens on the hands of two little girls. They huddle close to him, wearing muddy indoor slippers in adult sizes, and silently stare up at you from behind his legs.

He killed his family. He slaughtered a whole village, not a one left standing.

You open the door wider and step aside.

—

"Hey there, Shoko."

She turns, short brown hair brushing her collar. She pops a chewed lollipop stick out from between her lips and chucks it in the bin beneath the desk, leaning back in her roller chair. "Hey yourself. What was this about an urgent appointment?"

You smile, lopsided and familiar. You rest your palms on the heads of the two girls beside you, one gripping your shirt and the other gripping your trousers. "Do you mind giving this pair a check-up with a focus on cursed energy? I was hoping to get some bloodwork done, too – just the usual, iron and such."

She nods, gesturing to the three seats by the desk. "Easy peasy. More of your siblings?"

"It seems like sorcery runs in the family now," you say, taking a seat on the furthest side and placing an arm over the back of the chair beside you. Subtly, the dark-haired one in that seat leans towards you.

"No kidding," Shoko says drily, setting up a blood pressure monitor. "That's the whole point of clans – you and these two could be enough to make your own. You two cuties must be his favourites then, huh?"

The blonde one offers a small smile. The other one watches Shoko pull the Velcro arm band open with a riiip.

"I don't play favourites," you hum. "I would do anything for my whooole family. Ohana, you know?" You squeeze their shoulders affectionately. "If I am a little sweeter on some – well, that's a secret I'll take to my grave."

Shoko glances away from her files and forms, picking up the arm band and scooting closer across the wood-patterned linoleum. "Then in that case—" she mimes zipping her lips and tossing away the key "—my lips are sealed. Could you roll up your sleeve for me, honey?"

Nanako obeys, offering her arm. Shoko wraps the band around her bicep what seems like an excessive number of times; the girls are small for their age, and you both know it.

The time passes uneventfully. The girls are unnaturally obedient – to the point that Shoko notices. You might ask one of them to do something or sit a certain way and they'll listen immediately, as if... afraid.

She thinks half-heartedly, maybe he's a shitty brother, but you frown in your gentle way at the same things Shoko does, and your voice softens right after. You comfort them while she takes their blood, and though they seem to settle, they don't act quite... right. They don't reach for you, don't seek you out for support – they sit there stiffly with their arm out, bracing themselves, and startle when you offer a hand to hold and tell them to wiggle their toes, as if abruptly remembering that you're there.

Now, Shoko doesn't want to comment or speculate on other people's family dynamics, but unfortunately for you, a pair of little girls aren't world-class actors.

She grabs your wrist before you can leave. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

You glance at the twins, who hold each other's hands and gaze back at you. "Sit here for a while, please, okay?" You point to some chairs lining the hallway outside Shoko's shiny new office. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Shoko closes the door behind you and leans against it with a soft sigh, one hand discreetly grasping the handle. She blocks the only exit, and you notice it, immediately wary.

"They aren't your sisters, are they?" she asks, shrewd as ever.

You eye her, but her features are only tired, her gaze sweeping from item to item in the room conversationally. She's not looking for a weapon – just making you feel at ease without her boring holes into your skull.

"Family isn't just by blood," you say.

"No, it isn't," she agrees. "Did you read the report, by the way? All that death for two children not big enough to see over the dashboard... Maybe I could understand – after a drink or two."

You huff a laugh, wry. "I'll shout you."

"I'll take you up on that. You're the one with the believable ID."

"Are you saying I look old, Shoko? C'mon, now. Low blow."

Her lips quirk up. "You've aged a lot over the last few months. You keep putting off sleep like you are and you'll end up looking like Palpatine."

"Unlimited power." You wave your hands in the air, then huff and chuckle, shoving your hands in your pockets. "Don't worry about me, Shoko. It'll pass. All I want is to make sure the girls will be alright once I get them on a diet of my famous cooking."

"Infamous, more like." She rolls her eyes.

"Hey, Satoru knew he couldn't handle spice. Wasn't my fault he kept going because he wanted to outdo Suguru."

You share a little laugh at the memory, though it peters out at the end. Because that's all it is – a memory, a fragment of the past which you'll never see again.

Shoko steps forward, taking your hands in hers. She squeezes them, her mouth opening and closing before she sighs and butts her head against your chest.

"Take care of them for me. All of them."

All. Not both.

You squeeze her hands in return, pressing your cheek to the top of her head. You wrap your arms around her, and in a rare show of vulnerability, she lets you – she stands there, arms by her sides, her head against your chest, and doesn't push you away.

You pull away first. You have to, or you might never leave. You pat her shoulder, offering a small, sweet smile. "Am I free to go, doc?"

She nods, glancing at the blood samples in their labelled bags. "I'll call you when the results are back."

"Alright. Thank you," you say earnestly. You pause by the door, hand on the knob. "Shoko?"

"Yeah?"

"We're keeping this between us, right?" You offer a little lopsided grin. "If you'll do the same, I won't tell anyone you let me hug you."

Brushing her hair behind her ear, Shoko sighs and grumbles. "You better not. Otherwise, I'm putting rat poison in your soup."

"Okay, okay, I promise. Jeez, woman – violence isn't the only answer."

"If it's my first choice, my problems tend to go away." Shoko waves you out. "Now go get your girls. I'm sure they're bored half to death out there."

—

Suguru's nails dig into his palms until the skin breaks and bleeds. Red trickles down his wrist from where his hands are pressed to his mouth.

"Your anger is heavy," you murmur, crouching by his feet and gently prying his hands open to press a cloth to the red crescents in his skin. You hold it there, one hand cupping his knuckles and the other pressed firm and warm against his palm. It's like you're holding hands, Suguru thinks. "You can't bear it, but you can't put it down. I understand. But this path you're on... I can't follow you. I'm sorry."

"Please." He grips your hand, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Please don't make me go this alone. You've always been there for me. Do it again just one more time."

You gaze up at him from where you are on your knees. Your living room falls somewhere between barren and cluttered – you'd moved in not too long ago, wanting your own place off of campus, but things had happened so quickly that you hadn't the time to set out all your souvenirs and potted plants neatly. Whatever's out of its box is something with a use, and as such the place looks rather sad and empty. You'll have to change that soon.

"I can't, Suguru." Your voice is soft, and it wavers. You were always the logical, rational type, the mediator when Shoko riled up the other two and then bailed when things got dicey. He hasn't seen you cry since you were children, but it's not hard to tell you're close to it, gnawing on your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Don't ask this of me."

"Can't, or won't?" Suguru asks sharply, meeting your eyes. His voice begins to rise. "Why? Why do you say you understand but refuse to come with me? If you understood, it'd be an easy damn decision. It's not fair!"

"You're not fucking fair, Suguru!" You match the vitriol in his voice. "Asking me to choose between you and everyone else I love? You're like a toxic girlfriend giving me an ultimatum. That's real fucking shitty of you."

He tugs his hand out of yours, though the immediate cold without them almost makes him backtrack. Stubborn as he is, though, he continues, mopping up the remaining blood himself and folding the cloth several times around his hand. It's something to do so he doesn't have to bear the brunt of your disappointed gaze.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back against the couch. You stand and move into the kitchen, silent as a ghost as you wash your hands and prepare tea from the boiled kettle.

Playing with the edges of the cloth you'd given him, Suguru glances at the clock. Nine at night. Still technically early, but exhaustion drags him down like cinderblocks. The girls are asleep in the bed you made for them, big enough to hold them both and still have room left over because they didn't like to sleep alone.

His sight begins to blur. It's like seeing a curse for the first time all over again, but this time he doesn't have you to fall back on when things got scary. How childish it is, to cry over a boy.

"Suguru." You place a steaming cup in front of him on the coffee table. "I hope you don't hate me." You hold your own over your lap, your index finger tracing the rim of the cup. Occasionally, you cut through the steam, watching the pale wisps tear in half.

"I should be the one saying that, shouldn't I?" he whispers, leaning forward and reaching for his cup of tea. He lifts it to his lips and the couch creaks under his shifted weight. He huffs, a mirthless chuckle. "You're in the presence of a criminal."

"Right. The guys in the big hats don't like you anymore." You sigh, leaning back and tipping your head to stare at the ceiling. "For what it's worth... I meant it when I said I understand. I get where you're coming from. I just think you're doing it wrong."

"Then why won't you come with me? Help me make things right?"

"In your absence, I have to take care of Satoru – make sure he doesn't go ballistic." You chuckle just thinking about it. "It's so obvious the guy's never had friends his age before. Knows nothing about emotional regulation, either. At least Shoko can talk about it, but Satoru? No, no. Just clams up and gets overly bitchy until I drop it. I'd like to think I'm making headway with him, though."

Suguru swirls his cup of tea, staring into it. "Why is that always your job? Always our peacemaker, our middleman, our damn therapist... Someone should pay you for it. At least that'll mean getting some colour in this place."

"Suguru."

He glances over at you. You lean into him, resting a warm hand on his shoulder. You're beautiful, even like this, but this is the first time where, despite your closeness, Suguru feels as if you're on the other side of a glass wall like a museum piece. That wall is there for your protection.

"You grieve," you observe. "Why?"

Playing right into his words, it seems. Suguru chuckles slightly, cupping his mug and raising it to his lips. "You know why. Even if we met up like this every single day for the rest of our lives, it'd never be the same. I'm mourning what we had. I really wish you'd choose to be with me, but, well. C'est la vie."

"You could force me to," you say nonchalantly, sipping your tea and folding your legs like a prince at a boring meeting. "I don't think I could bring myself to hurt you."

"And make you despise me?" he scoffs. "No, thanks. Pretty sure Satoru already does, and my social circle's become frighteningly small. More of a dot, really. A pinhead."

Your gaze softens and you reach out, brushing the back of your knuckles against his cheek and down his jaw with a wistful sweetness. He leans into it, gaze flickering up to you.

Suddenly, his lower lip quivers and he closes his eyes and cups your hand, pulling it into himself. He kisses your palm and strokes your wrist, gripping you tight to keep you there – as if you'll pull away if he doesn't. But why would you? You reached for him to begin with.

"When we die, I want to go first," he whispers. "Promise me that."

Your heart stops.

You stare at him unblinkingly. Then, you put down your cup, doing the same for his, and pull Suguru tight into your arms. He curls up under your chin, fisting the back of your shirt as he commits the warmth of your bulk and the smell of your cologne to memory.

If only he were cruel enough to steal you away – bruised and battered so nobody could blame you – to have you all to himself. If only you didn't love him so wholly and instead alerted the elders when he first stumbled to you, the blood still fresh across his cheeks.

You don't want to think about your failings. You bury your nose in his hair, his milk and honey shampoo making the bile churn in your stomach, and hold him tighter. "I promise."

—

You come when Suguru calls. You always do.

"Hello, darling," he hums, rising from behind his big mahogany desk. He pushes a pile of folders into a drawer and rounds the desk to meet you, his long dark robes swaying around his ankles. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How are the girls?"

"It's been two weeks, so that depends on your definition of 'a while'. They're doing alright," you reply, letting him drape his arms over your shoulders. "I keep telling them to make friends, but apparently all of the girls in their new class are mean and cliquey. At least they like their teachers and subjects."

"That's good to hear," Suguru murmurs, tracing your collarbone with his fingertip absently. "I'll visit soon. When are you free?"

Satoru leaves for an overseas mission in the weekend, meaning there's no chance of him popping in without warning. Well, less of a chance, at least. "In two days. The girls want to go out for shopping and dinner on their own – but they've promised to leave their locations on, won't stray off the main roads, and won't follow strangers into white vans, so they'll be fine."

"You sound so sure about that. You're going to follow them, aren't you?"

"Now, see, that's where you would be right," you begin, "if we had this conversation a few days ago. But after they scolded me for being overly anxious when they're perfectly capable young sorcerers, I've decided to use that day for a date."

"A date?" He tilts his head inquisitively. "What sort?"

"I know how busy you are, so I didn't want to waste too much of your time," you admit with an embarrassed smile, pulling him in by the waist. "Therefore: dinner date, whipped up by yours truly. Two-in-one."

Suguru grins, stepping up on his zori to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I don't suppose you'll leak what's on the menu?"

"Well, I don't know what you're paying yet."

He scoffs, placing a hand over his heart. "Making me pay? Bad with our monthly budgeting, are we?"

"Not bad, just generous. When Nanako says she wants that fluffy cardigan, I can't say no. If Mimiko finds a cute pair of shoes, I say, 'do a little spin'."

Suguru can't help the fondness that trickles into his voice. He's supposed to be stern right now. "So, yes, bad budgeting and a weak will. Fine – name your price."

You pretend to think. "Well... I could do with a little this," you brush your thumb over his soft lips, "and a lot of this." You squeeze his ass beneath his monk's robes. His breath hitches, body jerking into yours, and you smile as you peck his cheek chastely. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replies, too quick and breathy for someone playing bad cop. "I can afford that."

When Suguru arrives on a fine and sunny Saturday, you can't help the painful little twinge that pings at your heartstrings. Seeing him in front of your door, long hair silky black and lips dabbed with a light gloss... you almost cave.

Take me with you. God, just take me with you.

He stays with you when he can, but when he does, it's dangerous. The moment they find out you're playing house with the worst curse user of them all, you'll be branded with the same iron, and your girls – god, your girls – will have all normalcy stripped from their lives. You couldn't let them lose their family twice.

"Good afternoon," he greets sweetly, hands bundled within his robe sleeves. "I hope I'm not too early."

"No, not at all." You find your voice and let him in. You've gotten exceptionally good at playing at light-hearted domesticity. He steps out of his zori and into his slippers by the door. "Early finish today?"

He chuckles, turning and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Yes. I rushed my last few visitors so I could spend more time with you."

"Suguru..."

"Oh, don't look at me like that. If you could see yourself from my eyes, you'd understand why I'm so eager." He knocks your chin gently, playfully, as your cheeks warm, and he flutters deeper into your apartment like he has so many times before. "Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

"I, uh – no, you take it easy. I just need ten minutes before I start plating things up."

"My prince charming," he teases, fingers gliding along the edge of the dining table. It seats six and fits just fine in the apartment, thanks to the not-insignificant salary you're paid as a full-time sorcerer. A bottle of wine sits in the middle next to two glasses. "Well, I'll borrow your shower, then. Rinse off the grime of the day."

"Take your time. Use all the hot water you like."

"Is that a challenge?"

"You can't do worse than the twins and their bubble baths."

"Challenge accepted." He steps into the hallway. "I'm going to try some of their fancy skincare products."

The sink and most of the bathroom cupboards and shelves are overrun with the various makeup products and skincare kits they've tried over the years. Lucky you gets a single top shelf, which they can't reach without dragging a stool into the bathroom, and which they graciously offered for your shaving cream and razor. Obviously, you're their favourite.

You busy yourself with setting the table, the plated filet mignon looking straight out of a cookbook. You're pleased with the results. You pick a few subtle candles and snap your fingers – with a precise pop of cursed energy, the candles light aflame.

You turn down the ceiling lights and observe your handiwork, proud of what you've accomplished. You nod to yourself.

Warm arms wrap around your middle. Suguru presses his lips to your neck. "Hello. I feel a little underdressed for the occasion."

You turn, and your eyes widen slightly. Despite having his own full wardrobe, he's dressed in your clothes: boxy t-shirt, grey sweatpants. You're not much better in jeans. "Um – I – wow."

Suguru lifts an eyebrow, stepping in front of you with a teasing smile. His skin is slightly glossy, plump with whatever moisturiser he'd stolen and patted on. "Is it because of the hair? You're so easy to impress, baby. It's almost embarrassing."

"You're in my clothes," you huff, pressing the backs of your hands to your hot cheeks. "That's cheating. You look great."

He grins, taking your chin and tilting your head towards him to land a kiss on your lips. He's affectionate today. "Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "Now come sit down. I'm starving."

You dart in before he can pull out his chair and do it for him. He giggles softly and accepts, fingertips brushing your chest as he does. He flips his low ponytail over his shoulder and gazes at you with half-lidded eyes as you take a seat opposite him.

"So," he purrs, leaning forward and linking his fingers, "what are you presenting to us today, chef?"

"Filet mignon with butter and rosemary," you list off, popping the wine cork. "Next is a potato and leek soup, and butterscotch pudding for dessert. Not too sweet, just as you like it. Um – that's it."

Suguru laughs like you've said a great joke as you pour him a glass of wine. "And you made that all yourself? I'm so lucky." He hums. "Did you really use nothing else for this steak? It looks and smells divine."

"Salt, pepper, olive oil. I was supposed to add garlic, but Nanako decided she would use it without telling me and I was already searing the meat when I realised," you sigh, then smile sheepishly. "Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, darling, don't be silly," Suguru chuckles, turning his plate slowly to really enjoy your creation. Perfectly juicy, done to perfection just how he likes it. "You could put this in a magazine."

"A-Ah, it's just a steak, nothing too fancy. Please, eat. I didn't make it just for you to stare at it."

"You're so cute when you get shy. I love it," Suguru purrs, though he picks up his knife and fork and begins to slice into the steak. "Take the compliment, darling. You should be used to it by now."

Your face is on fire. "Okay..."

Smile widening playfully, Suguru leans over and cuts a bite-sized piece off of your steak. He lifts it to your lips, giggling when you almost flinch. "Where'd all your confidence go? Wasn't too long ago you were copping a feel and laughing when I hit you. Emotional intimacy too hard for you, hm?"

"No, it's not. I literally set up a candlelit dinner for us." You glare at him without any heat, leaning forward and accepting the bite he offers. He laughs at the sight of you, chewing and glaring at the same time at him like a huffy child.

"Alright... So you like being praised? You've been a good boy for me," he teases, eyes crinkling when you bang your knees against the underside of the table. The candles flicker. He covers his mouth while he laughs, loud and bright. "Baby!"

Hastily, you smooth your palms down your jeans and fix your shirt, grabbing the utensils and digging into your meal with more gusto than necessary. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Let's eat and we can watch a movie and cuddle. Good plan."

Suguru beams, unable to hide his shaking shoulders even as he presses the back of his hand to his mouth and sits back in his chair. He shakes his head, his heart so full it might burst.

If only he could have this every night, he thinks wistfully, meeting your eyes from under his lashes. He smiles behind his wine glass, savouring the rich taste of the meal you've made for him. No fears of poison, no worries about someone who might be watching. It's just you and him in your shared home, dressed far too casually for a three-course meal, smiling and sneaking glances at each other like you're on your first date. He'll carry these memories forever, like a soldier tucking a perfume-scented letter from his darling by his heart.

The two of you aren't much better during clean-up, either. You wash, he dries, and he exploits your inability to move by bumping your hip with his every time he passes behind you, teasing the front of his sweatpants against your thigh. When he's caught up on drying everything, he rests his cheek against your shoulder blades, his eyes closed and his hands on your waist. He hums softly and leans up to kiss the nape of your neck, a feathery little thing that makes goosebumps ripple down your arms.

"You really have to stand so close?" you say drily, though your eyes twinkle. "I'm scared I'm going to elbow you."

"Don't worry," he sighs gently, slipping his hands beneath your shirt. One pushes your waistband down just enough to reveal a sliver of your Apollo's belt, and the other traces the bone back and forth. "I'm a big boy. I can handle a little pain."

Your gaze snaps back and he meets your eyes, his grin sharp and satisfied. He tilts his head. "Something the matter, darling? Do you disagree?"

You huff, turning back to the dishes in the sink. There are only a few left. "You're such a tease."

"Mm, you like that."

"Not when I'm trying to do important things – like not dropping our pots and plates."

He taps his lips, pouting softly as he ponders your statement. "That's true. You might chip our tiles."

His hands are no longer dipping into your jeans. You can breathe again. "That's right, Suguru. You wouldn't want to ruin our home, right?"

"Ruin our home? No. But ruin you? Yes." With a titter, he kisses your neck, peeling himself from your back to stand by your side. He leans against your arm, watching as you rinse off a pan and place it on the dishrack. "Once we're done, I've got something to show you."

"Is it a dinosaur?" you ask playfully, and his smile widens, fond, as he reaches for the pan. He glides the towel over the handle before lifting it.

"Better than a dinosaur, if you can believe it," he replies, nudging your shoulder with his and gazing at you with soft, sweet eyes. "I think so, anyway."

"That's a pretty high bar. Now I'm curious. Can't you show me now?"

"Definitely not," Suguru laughs, setting the pan in a drawer behind you. "Hurry up. The quicker you're done, the quicker I'll show you."

You obey. After you wash your hands in the kitchen, Suguru emerges from the bathroom with his hair down. It's almost waist-length these days, thick and glossy. Replacing the plain hair tie from earlier is a silver clip at the back of his head.

You lean against the kitchen counter and wolf-whistle, crossing your arms with a lopsided grin. "Hair down? Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this, aren't I?"

Suguru smiles as he approaches, pretty feline features coy and playful. "One day I'm going to cut it all off and that'll be your surprise."

You pout, wrapping him in an arm as he notches himself against you. You run a hand through the loose silky locks reverently. "Nooo... I think I'd actually cry."

He rolls his eyes, placing a kiss on your lips. "Crybaby. You just like it long because you can pull on it during sex."

"And you look like a gorgeous princess with it."

He gives you a look.

"What?" you say defensively. "I can have two opinions at once."

He presses a finger to his lips, playing at disappointment. He looks away, casting his eyes high over your head. "You know, I did have a heavy workload today, and I could do with some sleep... Maybe I'll show you your present next time."

"Wait!" You grab his waist and tug him back towards you, caging him in against the kitchen counter in your desperation. He squeaks and laughs, eyes crinkling as he grasps your forearm loosely. "What do I have to do to make you show it to me? You said it was a present. You know I love your presents."

"Well..." he begins thoughtfully. "You could kiss me."

You plant a kiss on his lips, and one on his cheek for good measure.

"You could tell me that you love me."

"I love you."

"With more feeling."

"I love you so much that when I see you without your clothes on, I want to throw myself off a cliff."

He barks a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Is that all you love me for? My body?"

"I love you so much that when I wake up next to you and realise I'm the lucky one you chose to hold you in their arms, I want to throw myself off a cliff."

He coos, turning in your arms to face you and cupping the back of your neck. He gazes up at you through his dark lashes. "No throwing ourselves off of cliffs," he murmurs, stroking your cheek. "You'd be leaving me all alone, wouldn't you?"

Your expression softens and you lean into his touch, cupping the back of his hand. "I won't," you say. "Not ever."

You keep your promises.

"Good," says Suguru, and tilts his face up to kiss you deeply.

His breath hitches as your teeth nick his lower lip, and you lick gently at the tender skin in apology. His lips are warm and plump, bitter but sweet with the lingering taste of red wine. He plays with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, not so much guiding as pulling you in for a deeper kiss – the way he likes it. He lets it linger, soft and kind.

"You're dangerous, you know," he whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours. "Spoiling me like this, cooking for me... It's nice."

You squeeze his hips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Really nice." He sighs softly, linking his fingers at the nape of your neck. His palms are warm, the calluses soft with moisturiser. It's almost enough to forget about them. "I wish I could do more for you. Take you places."

You just hum quietly, stroking his hips with your thumbs with an unreadable expression. He notices it. He didn't mean to sour your mood. He knows it in the way you refuse to look him in the eye.

At least you've accepted the fact that he won't come back. That he can't come back. You have stopped asking him to leave his grand ideals behind.

But that's okay. Suguru can have both. He'll make it so.

Suguru takes one of your hands and guides it downwards, letting it cup his ass. A distraction, perhaps, but you let yourself fall for it anyway. He leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth before pulling away to turn around and push down his sweatpants, tugging the waistband below the generous curve of his ass. He hears your breath catch and a pleased smile crosses his face.

"Like it?" he asks, collecting his hair and brushing it over his shoulder. The silver hair clip shines under the kitchen lights. "It's new."

He arches his spine, widening his knees slightly and bracing against the stone kitchen counter as he rocks back into your bulge. His smile grows catlike, marked by coyness and secrecy.

You palm his hips – the strappy black jocks cup his ass and thighs perfectly. It leaves his asshole wonderfully accessible, and you have to steady yourself by gripping him tighter when you spot the purple gemstone peeking out between his cheeks.

You spread him wider, swallowing roughly at the sight of a silver plug nestled in his plump ass. He chuckles softly, nibbling on his lower lip to hide his smile, as you play with it, gently pressing it in and out as if testing him. Just for you, he lets out a teasing, feathery moan, pushing back into your touch, though the gasp he lets out when you tug it free from his hole is a little more real – a little more embarrassing.

"I'm guessing you like your surprise," he says, smile widening as you pull him up to slip off his oversized t-shirt. You toss both things onto the nearest bar stool and Suguru steps out of his sweatpants with a flirty little sway of his hips, emphasising the curve of his waist and hips. He laughs when you pepper grateful kisses along his neck and jawline, his dark eyes crinkling as you pull him back towards you, not letting him squirm away.

"Oh, you have no idea," you breathe, smiling against his skin at the sound of his laughter rumbling through his chest. Meat and blood, flesh and bone. So very human. How could anyone blame you for loving him?

"This is in the way," he murmurs, tugging the hem of your shirt. You allow him to pull it off you and it joins the pile of clothes on the bar stool. He sighs at the sight before him, palms running warm and soft down your chest and stomach, tracing every curve and dip of muscle, scarred or not. His cock twitches in his jocks.

Your hands move towards your belt, thumbs hooking into your waistband, but Suguru, with an impatient look on his face, shakes his head. He smacks your hands away, ignoring your huff, and expertly undoes your belt and zipper, pulling the sides open just enough to fish you out of your underwear.

He's playful with it – glossy lips parting into a theatrical 'O', measuring the size of your girth with a thumb and forefinger and getting all moony because it's bigger than his own, even just half-chubbed. You roll your eyes through the heat in your cheeks, burying your face in his shoulder. He tilts his head to give your teeth better access to his soft, unmarred neck.

"You've got such a pretty cock," he hums, gasping softly as you nip and suck bruises into his skin. One of your hands ventures down from his hip to cup his bulge, warm and hardening by the second. "I – ah, I want it in me. Now."

The demand almost quivers – something like hesitation makes his gaze flutter away briefly. You meet his eyes with silence and a raised brow. Then he doubles down, rubbing his cock against your palm, and he moans as you squeeze roughly, the cloth cup of his jocks growing wet and slick on the inside.

"Need you to fuck me right now," he puffs, pulling you against him by your fucking cock. You grunt, eyes narrowing reflexively into a glare, but he doesn't back off, meeting your gaze unabashedly. You press your thumb into where you know his tip is, and he has the audacity to moan sweetly because of it. He smooths his palm over your cockhead, smearing precome down your shaft with every quick stroke. "Yeah, keep glaring, darling. I know you want this, too."

"Right here?" you hiss, as if it's a secret. "Do you know how unhygienic—"

"Oh my god," he groans, head tilting back briefly, "as if that fucking matters. Cursed energy, wet wipes and a black light – we have options. It'll be fine, worrywart. Don't you have a sense of adventure?"

"I get too much adventure with you," you sigh. His hand feels really good around you, twisting and rubbing in all the right ways, and the warm front of his jocks are growing damp, sticking to his skin. He ruts into your palm, eyes hungry with a sly smile flitting across his features. He rolls his hips the way he does when he rides you, and you let out a gruff moan, shoving your thigh between his legs. He grasps your shoulder for balance. "You're disgusting sometimes, Suguru."

You watch his tan skin flush, high on his cheekbones, as the rough texture of your jeans scratches and rubs his clothed cock. You can feel the heat of him through the denim.

He smiles, airy, and dips his thumb into the slit of your tip. It widens when your hips jerk into the wet ring of his hand. "Am I? Maybe you should fuck me at the temple. Sometimes I miss you and think about you in my office," he breathes, his hard cock poking out of his jocks, up along his hip. The tip is a lovely dusky colour, shiny and slick. "I wonder how you'd fuck me over my desk, make me tip over all my pens, or if you'd sit beneath it and suck me off." His eyes glitter as he runs a thumb over your lower lip, staring at them and biting his lip as if he's imagining it right then. Your cock throbs in his grasp. "Maybe both, if I'm missing you particularly hard."

"Suguru," you hiss between your teeth.

He has the gall to look surprised, to look innocent, to tilt his head in the way that makes his bangs frame his face so well. "What? You don't miss me while you're at work, too?"

You shove your hands into his underwear, wrapping your fingers around his pretty cock. He gasps, eyes widening slightly at the heat that shocks up his spine, and his grip loosens slightly around your length. You wrap your hand around his, reminding him, and he hurriedly returns to his previous pace, a little more haphazard now.

"Don't say things like that," you murmur, jerking him off as you press him into the kitchen counter, leaving him nowhere to run – not that he'd ever want to. You click your tongue. "Damn it. Now I can't stop thinking about how you'd look all fucked out in your robes, with your skirts pulled up around your hips and your legs around my waist – shit, Suguru, the things you do to me..."

He almost whines, but manages to backtrack it into a breathy moan at the last second. He tries to buck up into your hand but you press him back down, your fingers wrapped stubbornly around his tip – and only his tip. Your strokes are quick and shallow.

He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, his ass clenching around nothing. Without the plug, he feels so terribly empty, his hole leaking excess lube down his taint so nasty-dirty-good. Your precome leaks down his palm and wrist in clear rivulets, and the slick sticky sound is enough to make the arousal bubbling in his stomach grow dangerously close to popping. He presses the curve of his nose against your throat like some possessive animal, drowning himself in your scent – clean, light, slightly sweet. Like fresh linens that he falls into at the end of a tiring journey.

"S-Sorry," he gasps, chuckling when he can between pants. He nips a hickey below your ear, far too high to hide with a collar, and hums, pleased, at the sight. "It's also not a skirt."

"Well, fuck me for not knowing."

"What do you think I'm doing?" He squeezes your cock, nails dragging lightly against the veins. He moans as you press deeper into his space, chests pressed together like you're trying to get inside his skin. You let go of his cock and spread his cheek with one hand, the other dipping into his slick hole. It's warm, swollen already from his prep. "Hey. Hands off the merchandise, darling."

Your eyes narrow as he slaps your hand away, handling you like a misbehaving child. He puts your hand back around his cock, guiding your hand up and down at a pace he likes. You mutter, "By that measure, I shouldn't be allowed to do this, either. It's merchandise, too, right?"

You flick your wrist roughly, tugging his cock back and forth. His hips jerk forward, a sweet whimper spilling from his lips, and he glances up at you, eyes half-lidded and hungry. You tilt your head briefly, smug and mocking.

Suguru pouts slightly, still looking up at you through his dark lashes. He knows he looks good, baring his neck and flicking his silky hair over his shoulder to make his neck seem even longer, elegant and swanlike. "Careful. Annoy me too much and you won't get off tonight."

"And how are you going to enforce that? Will you cut off my hands – the hands you seem to love so much?" you taunt, stroking him faster. He moans freely, fucking into your fist.

"If I need to. Hm, fuck—" He inhales sharply, his cock twitching fiercely in the hot, sticky tunnel of your hand. "Fingers. Put your fingers in me – quickly."

Despite his uncharacteristic lack of manners, you obey, swapping your hand from his cock to his ass. He moans in relief, one leg naturally hiking up the outside of your thigh. He hooks an arm around your shoulders, nails digging into your skin for balance.

"Thought you said I wasn't allowed to touch you," you murmur. "Changed your mind that fast?"

"Remember, it's a privilege I can rescind."

His ass is warm and slick, his walls impossibly soft, and he clenches hungrily around your two fingers, taking them in to the knuckle with ease. His hole squelches quietly, lube making things wet and easy. He spends his time gazing at you, memorising your features, those dark eyes and long lashes fluttering as you push your fingers deeper, making him arch flush against you with a keening whine. His cock throbs against your thigh, rubbing your hip.

"Another," he whispers, grinding back into your palm. "I can take another, baby."

Slipping a third finger in offers the first taste of resistance. He is tight, his walls fluttering around you. His eyes squeeze shut and his nails dig into your bicep as he grips you for stability.

"Too quick?" you ask, watching him carefully.

Immediately, he shakes his head, opening his eyes and tipping his head back. His eyes flick from the ceiling to you, and he attempts a smile. "No. No, don't stop. I can handle it."

"Are you sure? I can grab more lube—"

"You'll do no such thing," he snaps, grabbing your wrist to keep you from pulling out of him. His eyes are narrowed, intense. "I've been dreaming about your cock all week, and if you make me wait even a second longer, I will actually electrocute you."

You suck in a breath between your teeth, gently thrusting your fingers in and out of him until he's reassured that you're not running away. "Okay, okay... Sorry for trying to be nice to you, Suguru. I wanted you to be able to walk straight in the morning."

"I don't want to walk straight tomorrow." He's starting to relax around your fingers, and his expression isn't so tight anymore. "I want you to make me ache, baby. I want to press on your bruises when I shower, want to get annoyed because you always put your hickeys far too high on my neck. If I can't have your cock every night, I want to be reminded of it every day – until I can get what I really want all over again."

He continues, tracing shapes into your shoulder: "Cycles, circles, Ouroboros. You're the one beautiful habit I never want to break. Funny, isn't it? That I remember your love through pain."

Suguru takes your silence as acceptance. He pats your arm and you gently slide your fingers out of him. He turns around and aligns your thick, glossy cockhead with his hole. He lowers himself carefully, letting out a low moan as it breaches his hole and sinks inside, inch by excruciating inch.

"Fuck," he hisses, lifting his hips higher. "Fuck, I – hnn. You're always so fucking thick."

"Sorry."

"You're not." His hole clamps around you as he rocks shallowly back and forth, spreading his knees slightly wider to accommodate. "Don't lie, or I'll have to punish you, you know."

"Punish me? Really?" You hum, resting your hands on his hips and allowing him to adjust at his own pace. "How would you do that?"

"Oh, I can think of all sorts of things," he replies breezily, taking a slow breath in. He pushes back against you, harder, and manages another couple of inches – the sight's heavenly, watching your cock slowly vanish into your beautiful Suguru. Your beautiful husband, in another life. He always seemed suited to the picket-fence life.

The squeeze is almost unbearable. If you look down at the skin-to-skin join between your bodies, watch him gradually take inch by inch until you're settled nice and deep in his tummy, you might come early. His soft, ample ass seems almost at odds with the rest of him – broad, tall, elegantly lean in that historical-romance way. You press your fingers into the meat of his ass and the amount of give that dips in is almost obscene.

The jock strap digging into his thighs doesn't help your case. Your cock throbs and you can feel every ridge of him, every vein of your dick scraping against his slick, hot walls.

With his ass pressed flush against your hips, Suguru glances over his shoulder, eyes lidded and smile halfway to drunk. His cheeks are pink, and he arches his back further, as if to entice you.

"Look at me, baby," he pants, palms pressed against the counter. "See how deep you are inside me? See how you ruin me?"

You place your hands on the shelf of his hips – gentle, caressing. With a thumb, you spread his ass, revealing his puffy hole wrapped tight around your cock. It clenches as you stare, like it's winking at you, and Suguru leans down against the kitchen counter and pushes his ass up, trying to take more of your length.

"You're beautiful," you murmur, voice soft and reverent like a prayer. You stroke his thigh up his hip, his waist, across the smooth expanse of his back. He shivers under your touch, arching into it. "I don't want to ruin beautiful things."

"Well, this beautiful thing is asking you to," he says, peering over his shoulder at you with a flippant smile. "Demanding, actually. So get on with it."

You tease him with a slow rocking of your hips, gliding against his swollen prostate with each thrust. "Whatever you want."

A displeased downward turn of his mouth has you swallowing a laugh. He stares at you, brows furrowed, and grabs your hip, attempting to set the pace himself – you don't let him, pushing him forward until he's flush with the counter, the edge digging into his bulge painfully. He winces, a throb of pleasure running up his spine.

"Not like that," Suguru breathes, a frustrated pout gracing his lips. "Harder."

"What if I wanted to take care of you, make you feel good?"

"You'll take care of me by fucking me harder," he orders, and his eyes glint with a challenge. "Remember, this is a present. I can take it back."

"Yeah? Then what'll you do? Go hide in our bathroom and fuck yourself with your modest little toys, maybe two at a time because they're not big enough to stretch you like I can?" you taunt, abruptly snapping your hips forward. He gasps and moans, nodding breathlessly as he clamps around you.

"You can sit between my legs, if you want," he huffs, grinning at the irritated click of the tongue he receives. "Or maybe I'll tie you down. I like it when you watch."

"Brat," you mutter, yanking his hips against yours with a wet slap. He jerks and moans, soft and feathery. He shakes his hair out over his shoulder as a velvet waterfall, watching you slyly from the corner of his eye.

He's too pretty for his own good. He knows you melt when it comes to him, and now he's using it against you, giving you sweet puppy eyes and arching his spine adorably hopefully.

"If you don't tease, I won't either," he promises, rolling his hips. He blinks back at you, his seductive half-bitten smile turning as sweet as strawberry clouds as you nibble at the crook of his shoulder. He shivers and curls up with a soft giggle, ticklish. His eyes crinkle. "Baby..."

"Mm, Suguru?" You sweep his hair to one side, nipping and sucking at his soft skin. As usual, you pepper your love bites far too high – he'll be tucking his hair forward for days. At least it'll be easy to press on the bruises with a subtle hand raise, letting him relive the pleasure of receiving them – the heat of your breath, the sound of your groans – whenever his mind starts to wander.

"I'm trying to be sexy. Don't make me laugh," he whispers, looping his arm loosely around the back of your neck and twisting his fingers in your hair.

Lazily, you thrust deep into him, tip to root, making his breath catch in his throat. The veins of your cock drag against his impossibly soft, warm walls – his insides ripple around you and he shudders, tightening further and pulling a groan from deep within your chest.

"What do you mean? You're sexy when you laugh," you object, your fingers gliding over his bulge, the cloth damp and hot. His hips jolt as you hook a finger into them and tug them down, freeing his wet, twitching length. "Don't you think so?"

He gasps sharply as your touch glides over his tip and your index finger rubs his leaky slit. His hole clamps around you. "I—fuck..."

You keep your pace unhurried, uneven, and mouth at the red bruises blooming across his skin. He's warm and pliant in your arms despite his earlier bravado – you smooth your thumb across the base of his neck, soothing and possessive all at once. He gnaws on his lower lip to suppress a whine – it was too early for that. He wasn't one to be ruined so easily, and he was determined to make you work for it.

"I love you," you murmur, tilting his face towards you and landing a kiss under his pierced ear. "So answer me, Suguru. If you don't, I'll finish with my hand and leave you to the toys you seem to like so much. Is that what you want, angel?"

He nearly bites straight through his lip. The pet name is so terrifyingly domestic, so affectionate, something he can imagine you saying when he greets you after work at the front door. He'd wear an apron and a sweater, soup bubbling on the stove, and you'd kiss him breathless as if you hadn't seen him just that morning. He licks his lips and his head twitches 'no' – barely there, embarrassed at his own fantasies.

"I..." He lets out a shaky breath as your cock throbs, hot and thick, in his deepest parts. "That wouldn't be so bad. At least I'd actually be able to come."

He grins then, breathless and playful, and there's an edge in his gaze as sharp as a blade. Your grip tightens on his hips. "Is that right?"

Suguru hums in assent, sighing in pleasure as you tease him with the pace he wants – just a few moments of it and he's already achingly hard, his cock arcing up towards his stomach. "Or I could... head down to the nearest bar. Find some more obedient company."

Behind him, you go deathly still, and he knows he's got you hook, line, and sinker.

"No."

"No?"

"No," you repeat, firmer, leaning into his warmth and burying your face in his shoulder. Cursed energy swirls beneath his skin, dancing between his cells with a tangy sweetness that fills your skull like a heavy, rich cologne. Your arms tighten around him. "You're mine, Suguru. You've always been mine." You kiss a darker hickey on his neck and he shudders at the twinge of pain that electrifies his spine. He grips your wrist, fingers fluttering nervously over the bones and tendons. "You want a reminder? Well, anything for my angel."

You press him into the countertop and snap your hips forward, skin clapping with the impact. He gasps, jolting forward, and when his mouth opens – to talk back or demand a kiss – all that tumbles out is a shaky, whiny moan.

You keep the pace deep and rough, hands sliding down his toned chest and stomach to rest on the shelf of his hips – two dainty handholds just made for you to drag him back on your cock, to keep him with you. His hair bounces, strands slowly coming loose to frame his blown-out pupils and dark, sinful blush. He flicks his head to toss it over his shoulder and gazes back at you, pink lips glossy and parted into a perfect 'O'. He reaches for your hand, cupping your knuckles – it's like you're holding hands – and grins, biting back cries that come out instead as short, ragged gasps.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, w-was it?" he moans, body jerking and weight shifting forward. He compensates by balancing on the balls of his feet, and it arches his back in a gorgeously tempting way. His cock digs into the edge of the counter and his expression tightens, a choked whimper escaping through his teeth. His nails dig into the cool white stone. "A-All it took – hah – was a little jealousy."

The thick head of your cock crushes his swollen, sensitive prostate. A tremor wracks his body as liquid fire rushes through his dick, making him yelp like a wounded little bunny. Traitor that it is, his cock throbs and leaks faster, precome shining messily on his firm stomach.

"I'd say possessive, not jealous," you respond, watching his tight hole swallow your whole length with pornographic ease. He's impossibly warm and soft, gummy insides tender and uber-sensitive from sitting on the plug for so long. It makes you wonder. All that squirming during dinner – was he fantasising about how you'd fuck him? Wishing the weight of the plug was from your cock instead? "Jealousy implies a desire for something I don't have. But I do have you – I have you all spread out and eager for me, eager for a cock too big to fit in you."

You emphasise your point with a pointed thrust, crushing your hips against his ass and making him choke. His hand flies down to his stomach, pressing on the smooth bump gliding against his walls. His thighs tremble. "You belong to me. The outside—" you kiss his hickeys "—and the inside—" you cup the bulge in his stomach "—is all mine."

Suguru shivers despite the heat burning beneath his skin. He gasps out your name, his heart stuttering as you press a chaste but lingering kiss to the nape of his neck. All of this – it's the same song and dance he plays out when he's haunted by what could have been, his side empty and cold where you should be. Perhaps it comforts him to have control – to know that within these four walls, you would do anything for him.

He's made peace with your choice to stay, but that doesn't mean he loves it. When he was younger, he was bitter. Didn't want to see you. It reminded him of who you'd chosen over him – people like Satoru, who hadn't known you for half as long as he did, nor as deeply. Your experiences were his experiences, and naively, he'd believed that you'd spend your whole lives doing just that: sharing, being together. He thought it was pathetic how shattered he was when you broke that dream.

Now, though – older, a little bit wiser – he appreciates the rest of it that much more. Despite your unwavering loyalties, your strongest beliefs, you made him your only exception – someone you couldn't live without, even if it risked the loss of everything you'd worked to keep.

You'd be exiled. Hunted down. Slaughtered like a feral dog. And still, you reached for him. That meant something.

As you pick up the pace, hips smacking against Suguru's plump ass, so do his pretty sounds. His sighs turn into sharp, drawled moans, punched-out while his mouth falls open, your pace making it hard to breathe. His nails dig into the stone counter top.

"Yes," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. "Yes. My holes are the only ones you're allowed to fuck. They're yours. I'm yours. I only want you."

It's almost sweet. His voice is soft with gasps and sighs, his usual purring tone sharpened with pleasure. He's behaving now, so you'll let him have what he wants. You slide a finger beneath the strap of his jocks, gliding against his smooth skin, and snap it back against him – his breath hitches and his hole clamps tightly around you. You groan, deep and hungry, at the feeling. He shivers against your chest, his skin prickling with gooseflesh.

"Mm... I never tire of hearing that," you huff against the hickeys on his neck. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes obscenely in your apartment and Suguru's heart knocks up a little bit higher on each thrust, each breath coming shorter and sharper than the last. You grab his arms and twist them behind his back – he stumbles slightly, stomach pressing flat against the cool countertop, and his body seizes at the cold shock. You let out another low rumble, the sound rolling pleasingly into Suguru's warm, sticky skin.

Your grip tightens on his wrists and his slender fingers flex, his index finger brushing against the side of your wrist in the ghost of a hand-hold. He chokes on a cry as you snap your hips into his ass, rough and starved. His knees buckle and you tut softly as you yank him back up and set him on the counter again, burying his weeping cock beneath his own weight. He whimpers softly and tries to lift his hips to alleviate the discomfort, but all that does is slam your cock directly into his soft swollen prostate, forcing it even deeper than before.

He comes.

The world goes white. The pressure of his arms pinned back. His cheek pressed to the hard countertop. The cold stone slick with his hot, creamy release. It all explodes forth in a searing hot burst.

"Wait," he gasps, his tongue thick and rubbery in his mouth. His eyes roll back as you fuck him through it, not slowing down for a second. Moans spill past his red, bitten lips, bouncing off the tiled kitchen walls. "Wait—! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, no – more – more, more, feels so good, baby, you feel so good—"

"Speak clearly, angel," you hum, pumping your cock into his tight, wet hole. "Stop? Go? Slower? Faster? How deep do you want me inside your pretty belly?"

He whimpers at the slew of choices, his body working too fast for his thoughts to keep up. You were teasing him just a while ago, but now? He came so quickly after you put it in. He flushes hotly, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He feels like a teenager again: small, vulnerable. Loved.

"Don't stop," he pants, eyes fluttering shut as his cock pulses and spurts, smearing his stomach and the counter below him in glossy white streaks. "Don't stop, don't go slow, please—"

So you don't. You fuck him until his cock softens, until his hole becomes creamy and sticky with your seed. Then you keep going.

You're certain Suguru was made to take your cock. His ass ripples as you slam into him, his taut hole swallowing your dick and milking it with every thrust. Gummy and tender-warm with your precome, his insides flex and quiver, squelching crudely every time your hips clap against his ass.

He doesn't complain when you sink your teeth high into his neck, his mouth falling open as his body jolts with melting pain and pleasure. His spine arches, ass clenching around you, as he tips over the precipice and paints his stomach white.

Time passes. How much exactly, Suguru doesn't know – his balls ache with countless orgasms while his legs tremble and struggle to keep him up. He nearly collapses at one point, thighs shaking so badly he's practically bouncing on your thick cock. His moans are loud, unrestrained, and desperate, as if he belongs nowhere better but here.

Somehow, despite his foggy, clouded thoughts, he notices when your breathing quickens and your thrusts grow erratic. He cries out in anguish. "No! No, don't, hah, don't c-come yet, don't stop fucking me, come with me," he mewls, his throbbing cock so hot it feels like it's going to melt right through the stone counter. "'M close, 'm so close, wanna keep coming on your perfect cock – please," he moans, delirious and teetering on the edge. "Ah, ah, ah—! I love your big cock! I love you so much—!"

You hips stutter. Suguru has never been one to say 'I love you' like that – never so spontaneously, and never so clearly. Perhaps part of him was afraid you'd be taken from him if he said it too loudly – if he would lose you if he loved you to a fault.

"Suguru," you whisper, voice so soft and tender and fragile that it makes him unravel on the spot.

He goes first. He will always go first.

But you can't hold back any longer. Not when he's covered in your marks and teary with bliss you imposed onto him. You slam in, excess lube rolling down his thighs in thick creamy teardrops, and he gasps and scrabbles at anything within reach, trying helplessly to release his crushed, aching cock, wet in its filthy little puddle of sticky come.

He manages to hook his knee over the countertop. His dark, heavy, pulsing cock swings and smacks against the counter, sending shocks of hard pleasure rocketing up his spine. The position makes his eyes roll back into his skull. You hiss, releasing his wrists with one hand to spread his asscheek and drive your cock even deeper into him. He quivers violently. His tight hole scrapes the throbbing veins of your cock and he moans your name in a whiny drawl, hot cheek pressed into the cool stone.

"Feel so good in me," he whispers, mouth lax as he pants, the whites of his eyes showing as you shove right up against his prostate. His spine arches, sweat gathering in the small of his back, and you roll your hand down the curve of his hip, pressing the smooth bulge distending his stomach. With each thrust he unravels a little more, body jolting roughly. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I know, angel," you rasp, not missing the way he clenches at the pretty name. "Fucking dripping for me, aren't you?" You slap his ass with a meaty smack, making him jerk and mewl. His jockstrap digs into his thighs. "Shit, jus' look at you, darling. Drooling for my cock, dressing up all pretty f'me... Can't get enough of my attention, can you?"

Suguru shakes his head dumbly, panting like a dog as his hair constantly brushes the countertop, slipping free from his clip to stick to his damp, flushed face. "Have to – h-hafta make sure I'm the best fuck you've ever h-had – hahh! – s-so you only ever give your cock to – mmn – me." His dark, lidded gaze flicks to yours over his shoulder, his swollen lips parting and sticking at the corners. "S'mine. Don't forget it."

He's beginning to sound a little worn out, chest heaving and breath shaky and uneven. His numbers must be up there by now – six, maybe. You're not far behind. He starts to babble, sharp moans and cries interjected between how full he feels, how perfect your cock is, how he could orgasm from the feeling of your come alone.

It's filling your head. Suguru's praise, the sweet sound of his moans, the adoration thick in his voice each time he whimpers your name... anyone would give it up for him. Anyone would beg at his feet for a sliver of his attention yet here you are, the lucky one drowning in something he gives to you freely. Your cock throbs dangerously, heavy inside him, and he presses back desperately as best he can.

His messy, come-sticky hole gulps you down to the root. With a hungry, desperate growl, you slam into him, his ass rippling with the impact, and he screams your name as your cock stuffs a thick bulge in his stomach.

His head tilts back. His toes curl. His mouth falls open.

He comes violently. Beautifully. It feels even better because you do it together. The overbearing warmth spills into him, thick and creamy, and he gawps as you pin him down on your cock, forcing him to take every heavy spurt and feel every pulse. You hold him protectively, groans deep and pleased and puffing hotly against his sweaty neck.

You stay connected for a while as you fuck him through his high. Yours lasts longer than his – courtesy of his several earlier climaxes – and he lies limp and sated in your grasp as you lazily thrust into his wet hole. Frothy white come dribbles down his taint as you draw back slowly, his puffy taut hole gaping and clenching around you when you eventually slide out. He lifts and wiggles his hips, still calming down from the aftershocks.

You let out a shaky sigh as you lean back and admire his abused hole, fucked wide open. You hook a thumb into his entrance and tug slightly – he trembles, toes curling and thighs flexing, as a thick rush of come dribbles forth down his balls and shaft. He digs his fingers against the counter and you rub your come into his skin, using it like lube to pump his softened, messy cock. He jerks involuntarily into the creamy hole of your fist, hot velvety balls pressing against the edge of your palm, and the loud, sticky wet sounds emanating from between his legs make him quiver with filthy pleasure.

You let go once his body sags against you, thoroughly fucked out with nothing left to give. He lets you lead him into a deep, over-the-shoulder kiss, his gasps and soft moans sleepy and content as your lips smack and mould together, warm and plump. His eyes are closed, his hand resting over yours and curled gently around it.

Finally, you part, both gasping for air. His eyes flutter open, admiring you, and he steals another kiss, moaning lazily as you press your cock between his asscheeks and grind against him. He rocks back into you.

He spends a while just like that, kissing you and grinding against your length as he gathers himself and figures out how to use his legs again. It shouldn't be that hard, but his brain feels foggy, clouded, and the way you kiss him so desperately makes him feel like he's the only one in the world worth knowing.

"I love you, you know," he whispers eventually, blinking slowly up at you like a cat. "Really. I don't want to live without you. I don't think I could live without you."

You turn him over gently, letting him sink into your embrace as he buries his face in your neck, the scent of your musk and cologne tangling his thoughts. His body aches pleasurably.

"It's okay, Suguru," you murmur into his soft dark hair; it smells like coconut. You stare, unseeingly, at one of the many bright mineral dots baked into the white stone. Despite having him warm and breathing in your arms, he feels terrifyingly far away, like brushing fingers over a cliff edge. You wonder if you'll be fast enough to catch him before he falls. "You'll never have to."

[keirareidss]

a life of our own - a.h

♡ summary: a peek into your life with aaron pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader warnings: kissing, domestic love wc: 1.1k

You and Aaron had gotten married on the 21st of May. A pretty spring wedding that landed on the day after the anniversary of the day you first met. Every year, you took a three day weekend, just the two of you, to celebrate.

The day had been absolutely perfect, Jack was the ring bearer, Aaron teared up during his vows, Rossi gave a tear jerking speech and Penelope nearly squealed when the two of you shared a kiss. The day ended with you two surrounded by your friends, no, your family.

You both agreed that you needed more space than either of your small apartments so you found a comfy house out in the suburbs, not too far from work but with a large backyard for Jack (and possible future kids, wink wink) to run around in, alongside an inground pool.

The two of you frequently hosted get-togethers with the whole team, summer barbecues, pool parties, you name it. It was always fun for the whole group to get together without having to solve a murder or catch a criminal.

It was mid-July and you decided to have another event. You cleaned the pool and Aaron ran to the store to grab barbecue supplies. The last few times, Rossi had manned the grill and this most recent time, he decided to leave a list for specific things for Hotch to get.

You texted the group chat an invite for this weekend and quickly got a lot of 'I'll be there!' or 'can't wait!' responses.

The weekend came, everyone brought swimsuits and a few dishes to add to the spread. JJ brought her kids, Henry and Michael, Penelope brought three swimsuits, why, you didn't know.

Rossi stood by the grill, like always, clicking his tongs (yes his tongs, he brought them from home, don't ask why) at anyone who got too close. You sat on one of the lounge chairs by the pool in a swimsuit, sunglasses over your eyes as you watched Jack splashing around.

A shadow fell over your body and you glanced up, finding your husband standing above you, two drinks in his hand. He lowered himself to the chair next to you, passing you a lemonade.

"Did you put sunscreen on?" He asks and you playfully roll your eyes.

"Yes, honey."

"Just looking out for you." He smiles, leaning over to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I know. You always do." You grinned back. You eventually joined the others in the pool, starting up a game of chicken with Derek, Emily, and JJ.

To be honest, it felt like you were living in a sitcom, all loving glances and tossing your head back when you laughed. You wanted to freeze the moment in a Polaroid and live in it forever.

"Food is ready kids! Who's hungry!?" Rossi shouted from the grill. Derek dropped you from his shoulders, exiting the pool after Prentiss and JJ. You lift yourself out of the pool, water dripping from your body. Aaron gets up, wrapping you in a towel, his arms winding around you in a strong hug until his son ran up to him, nudging at his leg.

"Daddy, can I have both?"

"Both of what buddy?" Aaron lifts him into his arms.

"A burger and a hot dog."

"Are you able to eat both?" He asked, smiling softly as the three of you made your way to the grill.

"Uh huh." Jack nodded.

"How about half of each?"

"Okay!" Hotch sets him down and he runs off in Rossi's direction, holding out a plate with a polite smile as he tells him what he'd like.

"What?" He asks, noticing that way you're smiling at him.

"Nothing, just... you're such a good dad." You loved watching him parent Jack, there was something so endearing about Hotch telling his son 'no ice cream tonight'.

"Thank you." He chuckled.

"I'm think I'm gonna run and change quick."

"I'll come with, I need to grab a towel for Jack or he's going to drip all over the floor when he comes inside."

The two of you head upstairs to your shared bedroom. Aaron sat on the bed, watching as you pulled your swimsuit bottoms off, replacing them with underwear and a pair of shorts. Before you can choose a top, Hotch grabs at your hand, tugging you closer to him. You chuckled as he pulls you onto his lap to straddle him.

"You're so pretty." He murmurs, kissing at your neck. He plants open-mouthed, soft kisses down your chest, his arm snaking behind your back to pull at the string of your bikini top. It loosens immediately and he tosses it across the room, kissing at your cool, slightly damp breasts.

Your head falls back, your arms winding behind his neck as a small, pleased smile grows on your face.

"We need to get back out there. They'll be wondering where we are."

"Let them." He murmurs against your skin.

"Aaron." You scold teasingly. He glanced up at you through his eyelashes, saying your name in the same tone.

"Baby, come on. We gotta go." You climb off his lap and he sighs defeatedly, pushing off the bed. Before he leaves the room, his eyes trail after you to the closet where you grab a shirt to throw on.

The two of you make your way back to the yard, joining the team at the picnic table where you serve yourselves whatever's leftover.

"And where were you two?" Derek grins.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, I was changing."

"And you needed help with that?" He asks, nodding to Aaron who sat right next to you, seemingly focused on his meal. The topic quickly changes as Penelope brings up her new boyfriend. You notice someone's eyes on you from across the table and when you look up, Rossi winks at you with a grin before turning his attention to the others.

A hand finds your thighs under the table and you glance over. Hotch's heavy hand was squeezing your thighs but he wasn't even looking at you, instead focused on his son, ruffling his hair and smiling brightly as Jack squirted a lot more ketchup than he needed on his plate.

Your hand fell on top of his, squeezing three times. He turned his gaze to you, his smile softening into something more serene. Your mind suddenly changed, you didn't want to freeze this moment. You didn't want to stay here forever. You wanted more. You wanted every moment you could get with this man, with your family, the good, the bad, the difficult, all of it.

Taglist: @cinnamoncunt, @dramioneforevertilltheend, @tinythebunni, @khxna

[slutzforbueckers]

paige x rapper!gf headcanons will cure my depression

paige x rapper!gf headcanons

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡—warnings: some mentions of sex(like once or twice)

♡—a/n: anon i love you for your patience omg i forgot about this.

she loooooooves going to the studio with you and hearing your lyrics come to life

paige definitely listens to your unreleased songs during warm ups or right before a game and she brags about it every chance she gets

“paige, whats your go to pre-game music?” the reporter asked, angling her mic towards paige again. paige let out a laugh as her face went red just thinking about you.

“my girls music, obviously.”

you always show her your songs to let her get the first listen before you release it

she goes with you to your celeb events sometimes and makes sure she's alwaysss by your side, she can't have people flirting with her girl

"paige, aren't there people you'd like to meet or something?" you asked her with a breathy chuckle, pouring yourself another red solo cup. "you don't have to stuck up under me all night, y'know."

"hm, yeah i think i'll stay here." she nodded her head as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, smiling down at you with a drunk smile. "can't have these people out here thinking you're up for grabs."

"you're pitiful." you snickered.

she secretly loves it when you name drop her in your songs, she gets all geeked like a teenager and her celeb crush

not only can you rap but you can siiiing too. that means that when she's off on an away game and the time differences are conflicting, she often plays one of the songs you made for her in order to fall asleep

sometimes you hear paige rapping in the shower and lets just say you don't mention it when she gets out

whenever it comes to making those explicit songs you always make them in the little studio you have setup in your apartment…for comfort reasons and because paige may or may not be the soft moans in the background

she loves it whenever your songs come on the radio, even if you’ve both heard it a thousand times she still turns the volume up

one time she admitted to touching herself while listening to your music....

it was just a regular thursday night, nothing special happening, no songs to work on. you were sitting on the couch scrolling through your dms on insta when paige randomly bursted out:

"sometimes i listen to your music while i touch myself."

your head snapped up so fast you almost got whiplash. you didn't say anything at first, just stared at her blankly because it was so unprovoked.

"you're so weird."

yes she's a big star basketball player and celebrities show up at games but she'll never get used to coming home and megan thee stallion be sitting in her living room.

"i'm so tired," paige groaned at the loudest volume possible as she shut the front door. she dropped her bags by the door and that's when she heard the sound of another voice combined with yours. she made her way to the living room and when she saw megan sitting with her legs crossed next to you she nearly had a heart attack. "babe, megan thee stallion is sitting in our living room."

"yeah, i thought i told you she was coming over to work on this song?" you looked up confused. paige shook her head quickly, face turning red enough to make you burst out laughing. "go shower."

"good idea." she nodded and sped walked to the bedroom.

[emeraldserenade]

Out of curiosity...

How does Joaquin Torres react or deal w his partner having periods?

And is he into period sex?

Imagine if shes on her period and just goes about her day as usual and doesnt take pain meds and all and just has no filters etc and being a menace to society

Maybe she gets colder and just suprises him when she slides her cold hands under his shirt

I was going to make this an actual formatted story, but I wanted to be able to touch on all of these and couldn't think of a way to connect them all seamlessly.

Hi!! I am a firm believer that Joaquín's mother taught Joaquín all about periods. Either because he has a sister and she wanted to make sure that periods weren't a taboo subject in her house or because Mama Torres wanted Joaquín to be able to care for his future wife. more under the cut

tw: fem!reader, reader uses both pads and tampons, period talk, talks of sex, barely edited.

I also wanted to say, that all my Spanish comes from google translate. I do not speak Spanish but I also do not use ChatGPT to translate anything. I also tend to try and only use it for nicknames but I am always open to anyone who does speak Spanish to tell me if translate was wrong.

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín is surprisingly calm when you get your period for the first time since you got together. You were thankful, obviously, he was running to the store to get you more pads and tampons. Not only did he get them, but he got you your favorite chocolate and a lot of snacks. "I was going to get you a new heating pad since you told me yours wasn't working as well anymore, but they were out. I'm sorry," Joaquín told you as he unpacked the bags.

"You're sorry?" You laughed. "You don't have to apologize, Joaquín. It's not your fault," you told him. "But you must apologize, I'll only accept it in cuddles," you added. And Joaquín wasn't one to say no to his girl.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín loves you and is slight insatiable. A period is not going to scare this man way, unless you're the one who is uncomfortable with it. Joaquín also doesn't care where you want to fuck. Your bed? He's grabbing a towel to lay under you so your sheets are in danger. The shower? Hell yeah, no need for clean up if the water is washing everything away. In the kitchen? He's mopping the floor if anything gets on it while your relaxing. Joaquín knows an orgasm can help with cramps and anything to make the love of his life comfortable is worth the effort.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

If you don't take pain meds, either because you forgot or don't take them for another reason, Joaquín's smiling at the way you mouth off. You're slightly mean, nothing to cause any real hurt feelings, but you dropped your filter. "Oh wow, you're so masculine. I can just feel the need to submit to you," you deadpanned to the man at the bar. You went out with Sam, Bucky, and Joaquín to celebrate Bucky becoming a congressman. Joaquín had walked up at the perfect time to hear you.

"Hey, miel," Joaquín wrapped his arm around your waist, splaying his hand over your lower stomach to let the head and weight of it sink into you. Helping with any cramps you were feeling and grounding you to the feeling of Joaquín. miel = honey

"Hi," you breathed out, letting Joaquín pull you away from the man across from you. "He pissed me off," you told Joaquín, leaning into his side.

"I could tell," Joaquín kissed your temple as you reached the table.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

On a day to day basis? Your menace tendencies were more subtle. You would have bags of snacks or a hot water bottle by you. Any time someone pointed one of them out, you were asking them for more snacks or handing them the water bottle for them to heat up for you again.

If Joaquín brought up either of you habits, you were sending him to go pick up whatever you were craving with nothing but a smile. Not that he would complain, he only brought them up so he had a reason to get you whatever you wanted.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

If you get cold on your period? Joaquín becomes your personal heater. Your cold hands sliding up his shirt and resting against him was normal. So normal Sam didn't even blink if you did it randomly in the office during the day.

But when you got too cold and it was just the two of you on your couch or in bed? You were forcing your head up Joaquín's shirt until your head was resting against his chest with your arms around his waist. Your cold hands were on his back as you snuggled closer with Joaquín's arms wrapping around you.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Overall, Joaquín is doing everything he can for his girl when she's on her period. Whether you've been together for only a few hours or if you're married, Joaquín's never slacking on taking care of you. He loves you and shows it in every way he can.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[save-the-villainous-cat]

MARRIED DOM!VILLAINXSUB!HERO AHHHHHHHHHHH

Here's some cake as payment if u choose to do the prompt :)

🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

"You're not actually picking up that extra shift, are you?" the villain asked.

"Sorry, babe. Order from above." The hero was in the middle of forcing themselves into their suit when the villain grabbed their cape and pulled them back onto the bed. The hero couldn't do anything but yelp and stare at their spouse in shock.

"You've complained about your co-worker ditching work regularly," the villain reminded them. They got on top of the hero within seconds, pinning their hands above their head. "And I want you to myself for a whole night."

The hero chuckled. "Yeah, but..."

The villain let their lips brush against the hero's neck before they gently bit into the hero's skin. Immediately, the hero's heart dropped. Usually, the villain was timid when it came to their own cravings. But from time to time - the hero guessed - they were so pent up that they needed an outlet.

It was undeniably attractive. And also inconvenient for the hero's job - sometimes, the hero could barely walk the day after a night with their spouse. Which was funny considering that the villain was always in high spirits, training and jumping in the apartment as if they had all the energy in the world.

"Come on..." the villain whispered. They licked over the soft bite mark and grabbed the hero's waist. "Stay with me tonight."

"I already offered to patrol, I..." The hero took in a sharp breath when the villain touched their thigh. Within a few minutes the hero's leg would be on the villain's shoulder. They just knew the villain loved to do that. "You can't keep seducing me."

"Why not? I've been doing that for over eight years now." The villain stared at them through half-lidded eyes. The hero could tell they were extremely needy and the hero couldn't deny that they had been feeling the villain's absence more than usual. Thanks to their shitty schedules, they had barely seen each other, had barely slept in the same bed for two weeks now. Hell, they weren't even fighting one another. The hero missed being cheered on by citizens. Fighting the villain was easily the most entertaining work experience they could have. "Give me ten minutes of your time if you're going."

"Ten? You think I'll still be able to jump from rooftop to rooftop after ten minutes with you?"

"I can be nice this once," the villain said. They opened the zipper of the hero's suit and like the hero had predicted, pushed their thigh up until the hero put their leg on the villain's shoulder. They pressed a kiss to the hero's lips, almost as sweet as their first one when they'd been teenagers. The hero smiled softly.

However, the hero's heart dropped once again as the villain pulled them closer, their lips brushing the hero's ear.

"Get on top, please," the villain purred. "Today, I want you to be mean to me."

"I need longer than ten minutes, though."

"Whaaat?" The villain rolled onto their back, pulled the hero on top and held them in place with a firm hand on the hero's lower back.

"As if you didn't know." They leaned down to kiss the villain.

Admittedly, the hero was starting to dip into workaholic territory every now and then. They had to remind themselves to rest. To sometimes say no when their boss begged them to work longer. Of course, the whole saving-the-world-dilemma crushed their conscience.

"Guilty," the villain mumbled and for whatever reason, that was the last straw. The hero repositioned themselves on the villain’s hips slightly, leaned forward and kissed their spouse hard enough to not only force some sweet sighs out of them, but also make the villain dip their hand between the hero’s thighs.

The hero could tell their spouse was smiling when their hand reached its intended destination. All the hero could do was grab harder, kiss longer and pray that the villain wasn’t going to make them beg as so often. They parted, both breathing heavily. The villain’s hand was still there and they seemed to go for another kiss, but the hero stopped them.

"Let me call my boss first,” the hero said.

"You're killing me here, do you know that?" The villain's smirk was playful and their hand moved, finding an even more delicate spot. The hero gasped, eyes wide, and it was clear to the both of them that the hero's brain was liquifying.

The hero needed a few seconds.

"…they'll send someone here," the hero said. "…in case I don't call…"

"Ah, having an audience isn't new to us." The hero punched the villain's shoulder playfully. However, their ears were burning.

"You're not funny," they said.

"Fine, fine. Just be quick, please." They put more pressure on the spot between the hero's legs to tease them and the hero moaned the villain's name, almost let it out like a curse word.

It was clear that the hero wouldn't be able to work tomorrow either.

[bluehourbucky]

synced up

pairing: dad!bucky x mom!reader, teen!daugher

summary: bucky cares for his wife and daughter while they're on their period

warning: talk about periods/blood,

content: fluff, like really cute tooth rotting sweet

bucky masterlist

1 day before

"Ugh! You're so annoying! Why can't I just go an have a sleep over! It's not fair everyone's going!"

"I told you already your dad is coming back from his work trip, we have dinners every single time. You can go next time."

your daughter rolls her eyes and you're running out of patience, Bucky was gone for two weeks for work and every time he comes back he insists on catching up with the two of you, and so family dinners were always scheduled when he came back. Right now your daughter is being difficult about it.

"But he can see me tomorrow! Dad is not gonna care!UGH!"

"What will I not care about?"

you both turn to the kitchen doorway and see Bucky lean against it, his arms crossed, a soft smile on his lips.

"Dad!" your daughter runs up to him and Buckys arms are already open for his favourite girls. He hugs her tight and lifts her up making her giggle.

When he lets her go you walk up to him, your heart skips a beat, you're glad he's home and no matter how long you've been together and no matter how many times he's left and came back, you always feel like it's the first time.

"Hey doll. Missed you so much." you don't reply but just kiss him, its soft,gentle and sweet, his hands find their way around your waist pulling you closer.

"Ewww GET A ROOM" you and Bucky smile into the kiss and separate.

"Alright so what did I walk into?"

"Mom won't let me go to a sleep over tonight but I can go right? Even if it's family dinner?"

Bucky usually doesn't go against you but tonight he might just because he had some ideas about how he wanted to spend the evening and well the empty house could be a plus..

"Sure honey. But just tonight I don't wanna keep you from spending time with your friends."

Bucky glances at you and you're angry, very angry your eyes are narrowed and you're about to say something but he pulls you into a kiss.

"I-, you can't. " your brain short circuits from the kiss but before you can get angry again Bucky gives you the look and well suddenly you couldn't care less about a sleep over.

"Fine go."

"Ah yes! Thank you dad! You're the best!" She kisses his cheek and runs to her room to pack.

"You're a menace Sarge." you say lowly, biting his earlobe his hand on your ass.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" He whispers.

"Ew. Going now see ya! Yes I'll text when I get there and yes I'll call so you can pick me up!" your daughter bolts through the door before you can even say anything.

"So where were we?" You yelp as Bucky throws you over his shoulder and slaps your butt.

Day 1

You wake up alone and you assume Buckys gone to pick up your daughter and then you feel it. Shit your period you totally forgot, you didn't even get pads or tampons. Luckily you find one in your bag and put the pads on grocery list.

The door opens and your daughter and Bucky walk in.

"Morning, doll."

"Hi mom!"

They both kiss your cheek, but Bucky stays by your side and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Someone called in the crack of dawn."

"MOM! YOU DIDN'T BUY ANY PERIOD STUFF! YOU'RE THE WORST."

your daughter walks in angrily.

"I'm sorry hun. I saw it this morning. I'll go get them."

"No need baby. Come 'ere take your pick."

Bucky leads you to his drawers where his socks and underwear are. And there at the last drawer lay at least 3 packs of pads, 3 packs of tampons and even 2 diva cups.

"Oh god since when do you have this?" your eyes water at the sight m, it could be hormones but still you're so touched.

"I've had a secret stash ever since we started dating." he says it as if it's normal, and it should be but still.

"We ran out period products so many times well at least where you two keep them but I always refill them, but where did you think they came from the period faries?"

"Oh my god that was you dad? I thought it was mom."

"And I thought it was you." you nudge your head against your daughters a soft smile on your lips.

"To be honest period fairies should be a thing because the products are getting wayy too expensive for something you literally can't live without. Oh what did I say?" Bucky looks at you and your daughter who are now crying.

"Nothing you just get it."

Day 2

"Honey, it's my turn now you said 5 more minutes you had 20 more."

"Nope. I'm comfortable here."

Bucky is on the couch with his daughter, her head on his chest, fingers playing with her hair and she's content like she was as a baby. He's warm and soft and just the perfect teddy bear to cuddle. Just there's not enough space on the couch for all three of you so you agreed to take turns in getting cuddles.

"You know he's my husband and he was mine first so stop hogging him." Bucky chuckles, he knows there's no real jealousy and it's cute to see your banter.

"We could move to the bedroom and then you both can lay down."

And you do, now everyone is happy. Your head is on the side of his metal arm so there's a pillow to make the spot more comfortable, the hand is drawing circles on your hips and your daughter is on the other side.

Bucky smiles and sighs happily when his two girls fall asleep in just minutes.

Day 3

Bucky wakes up to some noise coming from the kitchen, like little raccoons you two are scouring the pantry.

"I'll pay you 20 just to let me get the last square."

"No I just want chocolate now."

"Really you're not gonna take a 20 for a chocolate must be important huh?" Bucky jokes as he comes over to give you both a forehead kiss.

"Here I'll give you both a bar for free if you guys let me sleep? Deal?" Bucky pulls out two of your respective favorite chocolate bars.

"Thank you thank you"

"Thank you Thank you!!! You're a life saver!"

He gets showered in kisses and is the happiest man on earth.

"You're welcome."

DAY 4

"Shit shit shit. How the hell did I bleed through on the fourth day." you mutter as you see a blood stain on the duvet.

"Don't worry doll I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to. I'll do it. "

"Not a problem darling. Go take care of yourself and I'll do change the covers."

Your heart swells in your chest as he leads you to the bathroom and puts on the water for the bathtub to fill up.

"Dad!" you two chuckle as your daughter screams for Bucky.

"Coming! She got that from you, you know?" he looks at you as you shrug.

"What's wrong hun?"

"Made a mess help me clean up the sheets please."

"Anything for you sweetheart."

And so Bucky washes everything, from the pillowcases to duvets, sheets.

Day 5

"Ah finally!FREEDOM" your daughter exclames as she walks out of the bathroom. She plops down next you on the couch.

"You too? Awesome!" you high five her.

"Dad is really the best. Do you think I will have someone like that?" her head is resting on her knees as she plays with the hem of her t-shirt that's pulled over her legs.

"Of course honey. But we did get lucky, huh?."

"But how do you know I can find someone like that?"

"Because you know what a person who loves you would do for you. And I know you won't settle for less. Oh and Buck would literally kill anyone who even thinks of treating you less than a princess."

Your daughter smiles and nodds then she leans on you. You appreciate that even though she's a teen she's open, and affectionate, she doesn't hide anything from either of you and she's honest. It's mostly Buckys doing he is the one who does the most, even though he would deny it, he is the one who thought you and her real love, unconditional.

"Hey! Don't leave me out of the cuddles."

Bucky walks over to the couch and picks you up and moves you so he can sit between you.

"What are you talking about?" he says as he grabs both of you and pulls you to his chest making you both smile.

"You." you two say at the same time.

"Ah so it's gossip dad hours huh. We're back to regular programming until next month."

You look up at him from your spot on his chest and make eye contact.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you."

"No need to thank me, doll. Just doing my job,, taking care of my girls. That's it."

After a while your daughter falls asleep and Bucky carries her to bed and tucks her in.

"You know I kinda miss when she was a little girl and I love that she still lets me baby her."

Bucky holds you as he looks at her sleeping.

"I kinda want another one." you say and Buckys eyes get big and his body freezes. He's been thinking about it a lot recently. The age had him worried, and his daughter what would she think, would she want that?

"We can talk about it. Us three soon. If you're even open to it?"

"Yeah I'd love that."

"Really at your old age of 126?"

"I'll show you what 126 can do don't tease me doll."

"We do have a lot to catch up on and who knows maybe we're rusty huh?"

Bucky pulls you out of the room and takes you to the bedroom.

"I'll show you who's rusty."

You yelp as he throws you to the bed. And maybe 126 is the new best age. For Bucky it certainly is.

~~~~

a/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 Would love to hear what you think about this! I think Bucky would be the perfect girl dad 😭 tbh he'll be a great dad and I would give him as many kids as he would like.

[venusbyline]

I can totally see Aegon finding creative ways to fuck his twin (who is as depraved as him, but MUCH better at hiding it, thus everyone thinks she's still a virgin and an adorable lady)

These ways include, fucking her on all fours in front of the altar at the Sept while telling her to repent because he found her eating out a maid.

I can also see them going to brothels together and Aegon convincing Aemond that he could use his big sister while she sleeps (aemond has no idea she likes it and she's not totally asleep)

ohhh i wrote they fucking at the sept in this one, but i'll write the one with aemond too 😩😩 it's so fucking hot to imagine that, especially if we talk about a younger version of Aemond (older than young!Aemond, but yet younger than Aemond in s1 ep8 onwards)

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. pervert!reader, pervert!Aegon II Targaryen, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), underage sex (no mention of reader or Aegon's age, but they're young and they aren't married yet), vaginal sex, rough sex, doggy style position, degradation kink, dumbification, open relationship (but not so much), bisexual!reader, mention of female/female sex, mention of dubcon (not between Aegon and reader). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

"Keep your pretty eyes on the statue, sister." Aegon ordered, pulling his sister's silver hair so she could focus her attention on the altar in front of them.

Ever since Aegon caught you, his naughty twin sister, having sex with a mere servant in your chambers, his blood had been boiling.

No, not just any servant. The servant he fucked a few days before too.

You were not exactly exclusive, since both of you shared too perverse desires and did not always have the opportunity to satisfy them together, which made the decision to also seek out other people — servants or whores — a viable option sometimes. However, unfortunately for Aegon, he ended up seducing a young girl whose company you loved, always smiling when she came into the chambers to bring you new clean sheets.

The idea that Aegon had taken that poor girl's maidenhead based on manipulating her almost made you feel sorry for her, but jealousy still spoke louder for some reason, practically forcing her to have sex with you to get revenge on your twin brother — and it worked well. He was fucking mad when he caught you eating the maid's cunt out with w remarkable skill, her juices dripping down your face.

To punish you, Aegon managed to take you to the Sept, checking that no one was around and then pushing you to the floor and positioning you on all fours, lifting that damn green dress.

"What would our dear Mother say if she saw her sweet daughter like this, being fucked by me in such a sacred place?" His hand continued to grab a handful of hair, hips thrusting forward without giving any rest to the princess below him. "Your little cunny all wet in front of the altar, unable to even pray properly because you are nothing but a lying little whore?"

All that degradation was arousing beyond measure. You could feel his thick cock stretching you from the inside, so rough and deep that you could barely breathe, tightening around him and letting a bit amount of drool run down your parted lips.

You should have been asking the Maiden for forgiveness for having succumbed to the sin of debauchery, asking for wisdom on how to rid yourself of that insatiable desire for carnal relations, confessing every moment you had slept with men and women, saying that you regretted fucking with your twin and future husband before marriage and for deceiving your family by pretending to be an innocent virgin girl...

But both you and Aegon knew that all of that was an absurd lie. You did not regret anything, you would do it all over again. You wanted more, you wanted him to defile your soul further in every possible way before that stupid altar, you wanted to cum around his cock and then be forced to lick the drops that would fall to the sacred floor...

Aegon would do whatever he wanted with you. The two of you were equally dirty and immoral, desperate for sex and most importantly: desperate for each other.

"Fucking little whore." He sneered, slapping your ass twice and growling as he watched you slide your hand down your body to rub that sensitive, swollen clit. "Do not you dare."

"Please Aegon..." You whimpered in frustration when he pulled your hand behind your back. The brutality of his next movements made your eyes roll back in your head. "I need more, brother! Fuck me harder, pleaseee"

Fuck the Maiden. Fuck the Seven. Nothing was more important to Aegon than fucking your cunt until you were milking him like a professional whore.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Glad to hear we're on the same page there," Bill said, "And maybe we could do some interesting combinations with our shadow abilities. And of course, you also got Mage Beans and Killer Mittens with your new brother."

Bill allowed Willow to look him over there, wondering just what she may have been assessing. But then he smiled.

"Well, it's been a while since I last did it, but I'll gladly give it another go with you, Willow," Bill offered, "I don't think you really lose the skill once you learn."

Now it seemed like he had a bonding activity to do with Erica, and one to do with Willow if she accepted that.

"It is a bit sad," Simon said, "But apparently that is what it is all about."

"I, I feel, I feel bad for, for both of, both of you," Russell said, "And I, I also know it, it would be mortifying if, I was in place of, of either of you. So, so I will my best to, to do my best to, to ensure any buns you, you see when you, when you come over are, are baked ones, Rook."

He smiled at the thought of learning how to make olive bread though.

"And, and I could, I could show you how to, to make Parker House style, style rolls," Russell suggested.

"Parker house style rolls?!" Travis said, "Since when did you start making those then? And you didn't tell me? Here I was thinking I'd have to go driving back to Boston for some. Make me some at some point please."

"A, a couple, a couple months back," Russell said sheepishly, "And, and I will."

"Give a man Parker House rolls and he'll eat them for a day, teach him how to make Parker House and he'll eat them for life," Simon joked, "Oh, you bet I got some chocolate syrup to put on it too."

There was indeed the noise of a syrup bottle being squeezed as he said that.

"Y-yeah..." Russell only said. Judging by the brief look on his face, he was also doing his absolute best not to think about what could have actually happened.

Any of them could have been lost during this fight. But all of them had made it out, and so they didn't have to dwell on that part, especially not him. He didn't want to think about what it meant that he came back right now either.

"Yes, it is," Leofric said, "And I have to appreciate the flavours, especially together."

"Well, he's a genius," Bill said, "And I think those sound like they've come out really well. Ah, gotta love Star Trek. I should watch it again to be honest."

Bill smiled at Rook as she sat down.

"You've more than earned a rest," Bill said, "I'm proud of you, well, all of you, for what you've done today."

"Hell yeah!" Travis said, "We sure did do it! And that's a perfect plan! It's going to be a welcome place for everyone who likes to do sporty stuff. Supernatural or otherwise."

"I'll help cook if you'd like," Antonio offered then, with a smile, "I think I'd like to cook with you, if you'll let me."

It was one thing he always loved doing after all.

"We should do a toast or something, to wish us many more years of peace and fun," Bill suggested, "We could hold our bowls up."

"Yeah, it's fun!" Erica replied cheerfully. She liked Bill and the idea of having an extra father figure while hers was missing sounded nice enough. "Well, that works. You're about the same age as Fae's dad too. I bet she'll find that funny."

If Erica's enthusiasm was evident, Willow was staring Bill up and down. Veronica had her own way of dealing with people and was easy to get used to, but she was otherwise unfamiliar with the concept of having a parental figure. She supposed that meant the possibility of doing activities together.

"Are you...any good at fencing?" she finally asked.

An attempt was being made while Erica really couldn't bring herself to like what she was being told.

"Well, that's sad." It was unlikely she'd be watching that musical any time soon.

Rook watched at the way both Lucien and Russell were reacting to her misadventures with a skeptic look on her face.

"Ah yes, it becomes a problem only when I have to suffer." she huffed, "I'm counting on that. And maybe someday I'll show you how to make olive bread."

"That sounds nice. Put some chocolate syrup on it if you can!" Erica suggested, "Yeah! You're going to enjoy it more now."

Despite everything, it couldn't be denied that they were doing their best not to think about what might have been. They could have lost Russell and most likely someone else as well. They had to celebrate that.

"Tropical is nice too!" Erica added.

"Indeed. Although I think I'll go with mint myself." Veronica said, before nodding, "Yes. It was invented last time Edmund incredibly got bored of brewing and decided to give it a try. He wanted to make it rum flavored, but I dissuaded him."

A change for the better, the pirate later admitted. The crew enjoyed it and it was somewhat popular at the shop as well.

Rook chuckled, "You bet it's a reference!"

"I'll have to come back too. It'd be nice to bring some of that stuff to my bosses." Erica said.

But as it looked like all orders had been placed, the ghosts headed off to prepare them swiftly. Veronica then took a seat. Rook did the same, taking the time to adjust and lean back before taking her helmet off.

"Well, guys, we did it. It's time to get started on fixing up the club and make it into the giant middle finger to the hunters it deserves to be!" She chuckled, "I usually don't like poking them but hell, we deserve to be petty. And then, you're all invited to my place for dinner."

[cool-thymus]

Your ship and how they sleep (when together and not) questionnaire!

Obito Uchiha and Kakashi Hatake

❕a HUGE vanilla, fluff, wholesomeness alert! 😄

@maireyart thank u for sharing this gem of a game! my favorite genre is and always will be "they are asleep", so i'm grateful for the opportunity to dive into all the headcanons and daydreams ✨

Since this duo is SO versatile and multidimensional, i'll consider two scenarios: Post war (PW) and Jounin Obito (JO) AUs

▫️How often do they sleep together?

PW: After Obito survives the war, he won't have access to his chakra anymore (be it punishment, or a safety measure, or both). The magic Hashirama cells will lose their power, so he will have to relearn to live like a human being with bodily needs that he had been neglecting during his evil phase. Plus, his mental state will most likely be at its lowest at first, processing the guilt and ...everything his life used to be. That said, I like to imagine that Kakashi would settle down with Obito for the night, lulling him to sleep with casual chats and comforting touch. And later on going to bed together would grow into a nice habit, especially if Kakashi gets to have his early retirement and won't be away at night on missions or in the hokage chair reading reports (instead of rightfully spooning his man 😄)

JO: Sleeping in the same bed would be something they look forward to. Both being active jounin, they can hardly match each other's schedule and have a good night's sleep together. Obito hates it; Kakashi has learned to appreciate it 😌but they dream about the time they will go to bed and wake up together more regularly. Whenever one comes home in the dead of night, the other will briefly get up to make sure nothing tragic happened. Obito likes to undress Kakashi and drag him to bed right away before the workaholic gets a silly idea to write a report or brood over his job 😅

▫️Where do they sleep?

PW: They live together and share one bedroom. It is the definition of safe space for them bc unlike any other area in their house, the bedroom is only theirs; no rumors, other people's opinions on their relationship, accusations, curses, or orders can sneak inside.

JO: I think in this AU it takes them longer to move in together. As soon as they do, the dynamic described above applies. But before that, they just go with what's more convenient. Kakashi prefers staying at Obito's place - it's cozier, filled with all kinds of stuff to entertain yourself with (big library, board games, craft kits, comfortable bed, funny posters etc.) I like to think that Obito's the kind of person who easily picks up a new hobby and gets all the stuff for it, but then quickly moves on, that's why he's got a bunch of stuff Kakashi likes to try for himself as well 😄 When Kakashi's out of the village Obito crushes at his apartment under the pretence of watering Mr Ukki but in reality he just misses his bf, and snooping around Kakashi's place in his absence is soothing okay? 😅 (don't judge him!) Late at night Obito and the ninken will settle in front of the tv and watch some silly movie or reality tv shows while eating junk food and making loud comments/howls at the screen.

▫️How do they prepare to sleep?

PW/JO: Obito sweats more than Kakashi so he's a bit self-conscious about his body odor and always takes showers before sleep. Kakashi's freak savors Obito's natural smell even when he's sweaty, so he's never complained, but when Obito gets out of the shower, Kakashi's there in bed ready to welcome that warmed up/cooled down body. Kakashi might even go into his brat mode just to get some delicious manhandling😏

▫️What do they wear to sleep?

PW/JO: Here they are the opposites. Obito sleeps either naked or only wearing his underwear. Kakashi can't get out of his habit to cover himself up, so he wears his slutty sleeveless tops, sweatpants, or PJs with funny prints. At one point Obito picked up on Kakashi's appreciation for comfy sleepwear and started giving him cute/funny t-shirts and PJs, so now Kakashi has a collection for every mood and season 😜

▫️Do they cuddle?

Oh boy. They very much do.

PW: Holding Obito, feeling the grounding weight of his body, smelling his scent, hearing his breathing puts Kakashi at ease. The same goes for Obito. At the beginning the horrors were too complex for verbal expression, so they soon gave preference to being tactile. The words were said, and difficult conversations took place nonetheless. However, touch remained the quickest form of communication. And what can i say, two touch starved men in their mid-late 30s with severe attachment issues are going at it; it being the sweetest, most gentle and respectful night cuddles possible 😌

JO: In this au they don't rely as much on bedtime intimacy for communication, but this is how they restore. Kakashi recharges his emotional batteries in Obito's arms and lets himself relax. For Obito cuddles are just in his nature - if Kakashi is lying next to him, he gotta worm his way into his personal space 😆 unless instructed otherwise.

PW/JO: Kakashi likes to nuzzle Obito's neck and the top of his head. Before going to sleep, he softly kisses the closest part of Obito he can reach without waking him up. Obito likes to wrap his arms around Kakashi's torso and feel Kakashi's breath on his neck. If Kakashi rests on top of him, Obito will adjust his breathing to be in sync with Kakashi's.

▫️What is their preferred sleep position?

PW/JO: Obito sleeps either on his back or his tumtum. Kakashi sleeps... around him haha. Spooning also happens quite often, especially in the morning when one of them needs to get up earlier - he gets the small spoon treatment.

▫️How easily do they fall asleep?

PW/JO: In general, Kakashi is a light sleeper, so he may fall asleep quickly, but he'll wake up at the slightest unscripted shift in the air. There's another thing about him, he is a nighttime reader 😈Sometimes Obito has to rip that book out of his hands so that Kakashi can get at least some sleep. The light doesn't bother Obito much, but Kakashi's cranky, sleepy attitude the next day does.

PW: Obito has major problems with sleep bc, first, he's not used to it, second, his brain is constantly alert and overthinking. With time his sleep issues get resolved with Kakashi's help.

JO: this one sleeps like a log 😆 Obito can fall asleep anywhere in the most awkward position. He falls asleep during movies and ... jounin meetings. To function properly he needs more than 8 hours, and knowing this about himself makes him more disciplined about his sleep schedule. That's why he's triggered when Kakashi reads til 4 am and gets up at 7 to go to work.

▫️Do they toss and turn a lot?

PW: As Obito adjusts to his new life after the war, his nights are restless. Nightmares, stresses and strains, all in all transition into a mortal human being will disturb his sleep. Even when he and Kakashi get together, he might still be agitated or even talk in his sleep. But Kakashi will be by his side, so Obito will be taken care of :3

PW/JO: Another reason for tossing and turning is a bunch of ninja dogs behaving like normal dogs when it's convenient to them 😄At Kakashi's, the dogs had always been allowed on the bed, so when Obito became a part of Kakashi's family, the dogs did not welcome him with open paws. He took their space on the bed and stole Kakashi's attention xD So the ninken might be fussy and gang up on Obito: sleep on top of him, by his sides, on his head... so he gets too hot, annoyed, or repulsed by the smell. They will accept Obito eventually, no doubt, but they HAVE to be mean to him first 😌

▫️Do they snore?

PW/JO: They both might snore a little, but it hasn't become an issue with them. Obito even finds Kakashi's snores endearing bc it clashes with his cool impeccable guy image 🤭

▫️Who hogs the blanket?

PW: Nobody hogs the blanket. They might even get two blankets so they don't have to share one. But most of the time one of them gets lonely under his blanket and the blankets transform into a cozy cocoon for two.

JO: Kakashi is the one who can hog the blanket bc he tends to get cold at night. Obito will just wrap himself around Kakashi-burrito for extra warmth.

▫️What do they dream about?

PW/JO: no matter the AU, obkk are tragedy-born, so both of them can have nightmares once in a while. But that aside, i think Obito is more prone to weird/funny dreams that he will try to retell at breakfast with a very confused look on his face as he notices the plot of the dream makes no sense 😄And Kakashi hardly ever remembers his dreams. On the other hand, once in a blue moon he gets erotic dreams. He doesn't hide it, and can discuss them with Obito feeling no shame. The best sexy dream he's ever had was a mix of Icha Icha Paradise and Obito's acting ❤️‍🔥He moaned so loudly in his sleep Obito thought he was possessed by demons xD

▫️How easily do they wake up?

PW: Kakashi can wake up at any time if he decides it serves his schedule for the day. He doesn't even need to set an alarm. But if he wakes up with Obito on his chest, or they are so cozily tangled together, it will keep Kakashi in bed for extra 15-20 minutes. Obito is catching up on all the sleep he's missed in his youth so he prefers to sleep in if possible.

JO: Jounin Obito is a sleepy head. It takes him a lot of effort to function before 9 a.m. Sometimes Kakashi has to force him out of the bed or, more often, use incentives like preparing his fav breakfast together (it's waffles btw) or some other stuff 😏

Thank you for reading and good night 🩶

P.S. Seeing them peacefully asleep next to each other is the most soothing thing ever to me, idk why haha. Even when I read angsty fics, imagining a scene where they get to sleep in each other's arms helps to power through the horrors (Mable, if you're reading, your stories specifically made me come up with a bunch of 'sleepy' scenes; i have a collection now xD) P.P.S. If sb feels like doing this for their fav ships, pls do! It turns out, you don't have to be tagged to play a game you want to play 😄

[pagesfromthevoid]

Spirit Week | b.b. | Finale

Bradley Bradshaw x librarian!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: So much fucking fluff

Author's Note: And that's that on the Top Gun x Teacher Universe. I'm sure I'll explore them more in drabbles, but it's time to wrap up the lovers. Thank you for all the love and support for this series of stories guys. You have no idea how much it means to me --the messages and notes and comments. Makes my heart happy that I made something people really liked <333

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | Coffee?

3 Months Later 

“You sure you want to do this?” Pete asks, putting a hand on Bradley’s shoulder. Penny stands beside him, looking between the pilot and his girl. 

Bradley looks to her, and she nods with a certainty that mirrors his own. Then he grins at his godfather. “Positive. This is twenty years in the making, right?”

“And what’s a second divorce if it all falls apart again?” She jokes, but Bradley looks down at her like she just kicked a puppy. “I’m kidding –promise.”

“Good,” he sighs, relief sagging his shoulders before he wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. 

A fifteen minute wait, a picture of Goose and Carole on their wedding day in hand, some paperwork, and two witness signatures later –Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw walk out of the San Diego County Courthouse with his parents' rings on their fingers and that newlywed glow around them. 

Pete Mitchell isn’t sure what he expected from his godson, honestly. 

Nothing flashy, or over the top. Bradley isn’t like that –even if he draws attention wherever he goes. Private moments like this, this is where Bradley thrives. And Pete knows that because deep down, he knows Goose was the same way. 

Their wedding had been small, intimate. They got married on the beach, with just Pete and Goose’s parents. Carole wore a white sundress instead of a wedding dress, and Goose wore his summer whites because why wouldn’t he?

Pete thinks Goose and Carole would have appreciated this wedding; especially with how Carole always talked about the librarian when she was alive. Like she was already part of the family and it was only natural to include her in every moment. Goose would have liked her too, he thinks. Given his son hell for letting her get away for so long –but he’d have been happy. 

And seeing Bradley holding his wife like Goose held Carole –for a moment, it’s 1984 again. Sunny, cloudless and simple. Before the world made Pete Mitchell a little colder, a little more broken. When he still had his best friend. 

It’s in their smiles. That’s what it is. The way they look at each other like him and Penny aren’t there. It’s a smile that’s only for one person –your person. And Pete should have seen it long before now. When they were kids, he should have known. 

Because those smiles are the same smiles they had twenty years ago, when they were just kids. Sitting on the porch after dinner, or on the beach. A smile that’s only theirs. And they’re the same smiles Goose and Carole had three decades ago when they first met. When Carole came home and told Goose he was going to be a dad; when Goose told Pete the news too.

“Your parents would be proud,” Pete finally settles on saying, and he knows his eyes are watering behind his aviators but he refuses to let them see. “Both of your parents.”

Bradley turns and looks at Pete, and for a split second, he’s there again. Goose. Nick. His best friend.

Pete caves and pulls them both into a tight hug, arms wrapped around them both. Bradley is trembling, and she’s holding onto them both as if she’s trying to anchor them both to the ground. Like she knows.

When they pull away, Pete claps Bradley on the shoulder, smiling up at him. “I’m proud of you too, Bradley. I always have been.” Then he’s turning to her, and she’s wiping her eyes with a watery smile. And Pete presses a kiss to her hair. “You were always my favorite anyway.”

“I knew it,” she laughs as she pulls away, wrapping her arm around Bradley’s waist. 

“You’ll be back Monday?” Pete asks, looking back at Bradley. 

“Five sharp.”

“And you really don’t want me to tell anyone?”

“Nah,” he replies, laughing a bit as he hugs his wife to his side and looks down at her. “It’ll be our little secret for now.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” she scoffs, looking up at him with a teasing grin. “He can’t wait to tell Jake he got married first.”

“We’ll see how long it takes them to notice,” Pete grins, nodding to them both. “Congratulations you two. Enjoy your three day honeymoon.”

“Oh, we will.”

One Month Later

The Hard Deck is popping off tonight for several reasons:

School is out for winter break, so Penny has offered a free drink with their badge. There’s more educators than aviators at the bar. On top of that, Bob and his wife have returned to North Island permanently; Bob’s instructional contract in Bremerton has ended and Maverick offered him his spot back on the Daggers without question. Mrs. Floyd has been offered a position at a local middle school, teaching English again. 

More importantly, however, they’re celebrating the engagement of Hangman and his fiancée. 

Sort of, at least. 

The two got engaged a month ago, but no one has had any time to meet up for them properly. They’ve celebrated together in bursts or small groups; congratulated him at work. But with Bob and his wife back, it only made sense to get together finally. 

Before they left, she warned Bradley not to make a spectacle of himself tonight. 

“It is not about us,” she had said as they climbed into the Bronco. “It is about them.”

“It’s been about them for a month at work,” he had countered as he started the truck. “Actually, it’s been about her. He won’t shut the hell up.”

“He’s in love,” she reminded him, rolling her eyes. 

“Yeah,” he scoffed, looking over at her. Then he took her hand, and kissed her wedding ring. “So am I. Let me brag.”

“You wanted to play ‘how long will it take them to notice,’” she pointed out, tugging at the dog tags –and his wedding band –that sit against his chest.

“Maybe I don’t want to play anymore,” he huffed as they pulled out of the driveway.

That’s how Bradley found himself wearing his wedding band again, instead of having it tucked against his chest under his uniform. Not that he doesn’t wear it when he’s not on base –it always gets slipped back on when he gets into the Bronco to head home and any time they’re somewhere not on base. But he’s tired of playing this game. And if he’s really honest:

He’s tired of Hangman vying for attention constantly.

However, even as they sit in the back tables and surround the pool table, no one says anything. He doesn’t expect Fanboy or Payback to. Bob probably notices, but he’s either too obsessed with his own wife (Bradley absolutely gets it now) or too polite to say anything. But Phoenix is observant, and always looking for something new about them. How has she not said a damn thing?

Maverick comes over, and claps him on the shoulder –teasing him about his form. Then he says what Bradley’s been waiting for someone to fucking ask him: 

“How’s married life treating you, Rooster?”

There’s the stunned silence Bradley wants. The shifting eyes, the confusion. Then the zeroing in on the ring on his finger and the rings on hers. She’s covering her face with her hand, and he knows she’s blushing furiously because unlike him, she isn’t actually a fan of the attention. Especially now as Mrs. Floyd and future Mrs. Seresin are grabbing at her hands and looking over her wedding set.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘married life’?” Hangman demands, pointing the pool cue at Bradley. He’s not angry –Bradley can see the tug of a smirk on his face –but he’s definitely annoyed.

“We got married last month,” Bradley explains, nodding to his wife with a bright grin. “Didn’t want to take away your spotlight, Hangman.”

“You’ve been dating three months!”

“We’ve known each other twenty years,” he reminds Hangman, grin only getting bigger as the aviator extends his hand to Bradley. He takes it without a second thought.

“Had to one up me, huh, Rooster?” Hangman teases, but he’s squeezing Bradley’s hand in a friendly way. “Congratulations, man.”

“Thanks, Hangman,” Bradley says with a nod, and for a moment, they just stare each other down. “It wasn’t a big thing –we’ll leave the Texas sized wedding to you two.”

“Damn straight you will.”

On the other side of the pool table, in the table, she’s blushing furiously as her friends examine her wedding rings. 

“They were his mom’s,” she explains as Mrs Floyd’s bottom lip trembles. “Oh, please don’t cry –,”

“It’s so sweet though!” She exclaims, clutching her heart. “I love the friends-to-lovers trope.”

“That’s such an English teacher thing to say,” the counselor laughs, taking a sip of her drink. “You could have told us.”

She just shrugs a little, looking over at Bradley and Jake, who are…staring each other down. “I didn’t want to take your thunder –Jake had proposed and Bradley just…didn’t want to wait anymore. Neither did I, honestly.”

“Well,” the counselor drawls out, but she’s looking at her fiance as well with her brow raised. “I appreciate that. But I think our husbands are having an affair already.”

“I think they were having an affair long before either of us came along.”

“I didn’t really believe Bobby when he said they stare at each other so longingly,” Mrs. Floyd admits, but her brow is raised as she watches the pilots. “They really do.”

“Take a picture so we can include it in the wedding album,” the counselor quickly says, taking out her phone. She’s snapping a photo of them both, and the three women break into a fit of giggles.

This seems to catch both their attention, and the pilots finally break away from one another and join them at the table. Bradley grabs Bob and pulls him along, and she catches him saying something along the lines of triple date. Bob doesn’t seem to argue as he stands behind his wife, rubbing her shoulders gently. Jake is forcing the counselor out of her seat so he can pull her into his lap, while she rolls her eyes at him. And Bradley is just pulling up a chair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to tuck her close to his side.

Then the rest of the Daggers are gathering around, drinks in hand and congratulations bouncing off one another. 

“I think we need to have a toast,” Bradley says, holding up his beer with a grin. 

“To what?” She asks, lifting up her glass with a smile. The others follow suit.

“I’ll toast to Future Fest,” Mrs. Floyd offers, looking up at Bob with a loving smile.

“I second that,” Bob agrees, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“I say we toast to the school,” she suggests, grinning at her friends happily.

There’s a murmur of agreements as they hold up their respective drinks, toasting to the high school that managed to bring them all together. The girls have talked about this before: that it’s almost insane how the three single people at the school managed to find love because of it. But sitting here now, two out of three of them married –with the third getting there next –it doesn’t matter the odds. Because thank god for their school and thank god for Top Gun for bringing in Navy recruiters.

“To the best matchmaker this side of Fightertown, USA,” Jake jokes as they clink their glasses together. 

Once their drinks are set down, and the Daggers are back to teasing one another as they do best –Bradley stands and takes her hand, pulling her over to the piano. She raises her brow as he pulls her into his lap on the bench. But as his fingers start to dance across the keys, the smile that’s spreading across her face can’t be helped. 

“You shake my nerves and rattle my brain,” he sings, and the bar starts to sing along as he continues, eyes on her and her alone. “C’mon baby, you’re driving me crazy…

The crowd around them cheers as Jake pulls his girl into his arms, and Bob kisses his wife with a bright smile. Then, letting the audience finish the lines, she takes Bradley’s face in her hands and kisses him with everything she has in her. The talented fool that he is, he continues playing as he deepens the kiss, smiling into it. 

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

———

Taglist: @bowchickawowowww

[im-not-a-pleeb]

After Midnight Pt. 2

Maybe It's The Moonlight

John Price x Fem!Reader

After stepping in to be your fake boyfriend at the club, John wants needs to make sure you get home safe.

1.3 Words

Previous Part • Next Part

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" Your soft, slightly slurred voice filters through the dark room, stopping him with his hand on the door.

"I think we've already done that, love." He shakes his head with a smile you don't see.

"Just one more time?" You ask, almost pleading. "For good dreams."

John wasn't afraid that you wouldn't be able to handle yourself, he was afraid that you'd have to. A pretty young thing like you stumbling out of the club all alone, swaying in those heels? You'd catch the wrong kind of attention.

Being part of the military, he'd heard first hand the disgusting things that men would say after they dropped their gentlemanly facade. He didn't trust the way any of these blokes were looking at you for a second, and he sure as hell wasn't about to let you take your chances with them. In John's mind, he was the only one you'd truly be safe with, and thankfully, you'd agreed to go with him while you were still somewhat sober.

It took a good 15 minutes, but eventually he got your address, settled you in his passanger seat and drove you home. You'd fiddled with his radio, finding a late night station playing a song you knew. A few strands of your hair flickered and twitched out the open window as you sang softly along.

Even drunk, you seemed something like an angel, he thought to himself as he helped you up to your apartment.

Once you managed to find your keys and let you both inside, John sits you down on your bed, catching one of your swinging legs by the ankle.

"Let's get these off, then." He murmurs, deft fingers working over your strappy heels. His touch is too gentle, too soft, and it tickles the sensitive skin of your feet. You try to pull away, giggling.

"I'm ticklish!" You frown with a hiccup.

"I can see that." He responds with a quiet smile. And maybe he let's his knuckles drag across the pad of your foot on purpose as he slides off your shoe, just to get a reaction.

You squeal, tearing your foot away.

"John!" Your scold is echoed by a low woof from somewhere behind him and a stout little frenchie runs into the room, eager to protect. Fortunately for John, it's a terrible guard dog.

It jumps onto the bed beside you, whole body wriggling in excitement. He watches your eyes crinkle when you laugh at the dog jumping up and smothering your face with kisses.

While you're distracted, he takes the opportunity to take off your other shoe. This one comes off without a fuss and he sets the pair down at the end of your bed. Heel to heel and toe to toe.

"Vinny, stop" You manage to gasp between giggles. 

John pats the dogs flank gently to convince him to leave you alone. 

"Down boy. C'mon." 

The frenchie - who is apparantly named Vinny - listens. He leaps of the mattress, his tail wagging and ready to play.

He stands in front of John with his tounge poking out of his mouth and panting happily. He's never been partial to dogs, but he gives the little guy a scratch on the head nonetheless.

"He listened to you." You sound astounded. 

"He just responds to a firm hand." John shrugs, attention zeroing in on the way you press your thighs together. An eyebrow raises. Maybe you would too. The way you reacted to him back in the club has him certain that he knows exactly what you need.

"He always listened to men better than he listened to me." You frown, staring at John's fingers flexing over Vinny's head. Stupid misogynist mutt. "But he was my boyfriend's dog first though, so I suppose he's more used to him. He was too much of a responibility though, so I ended up taking care of him and now he's mine."

"No need to think of that boy anymore, dove." John pats your knee and rises. "Vinny looks perfectly happy to be with you. Now, into bed and I'll get you some pain killers for in the morning if you tell me where they are."

"I'm not that drunk." You protest, despite it being clear to him that you are. "I'm not going to be hungover."

"Just in case, then."

You think for a minute while John pulls back the sheets of your half-made bed, gesturing for you to lay back. 

"Alright." You concede. "They should be in the bathroom down the hall."

You settle into the covers and he tucks the blankets up to your chin. Vinny hops back onto the bed and curls up at your hip after turning in a circle a few times. 

"There we go. I'll be right back." He says as he steps back from your bedside. It's endearing the way your eyes are already drifting closed. You'll sleep easy tonight. John makes it across the room before you regain enough conciousness to speak. 

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" Your soft, slightly slurred voice filters through the dark room, stopping him with his hand on the door.

"I think we've already done that, love." He shakes his head with a smile you don't see.

"Just one more time?" You ask, almost pleading. "For good dreams."

"For good dreams, eh?" John repeats, amusement colouring his tone. His fingers fall from your doorknob and he turns back to your blanketed form.

"Otherwise I might have nightmares." You say, adorably sincere.

"Mm." He grunts, pacing back to your bedside. "Well in that case..."

He leans over and presses his lips to your forehead, smoothing back your hair with a delicate hand. You make a sound of disconentment and your fingers curl into the back of his neck, trying to tug him closer.

"A proper kiss." You pout when he doesn't let you get your way. He huffs at your sullen expression.

"You really are demanding."

The dog curled up beside you sighs in agreement.

With one hand braced beside your ribs, John leans down again and presses his lips to yours. Both of you still taste like liquor. Just like in the club, he feels you melt the moment he touches you. It him smiling against your lips, pleased that you respond so readily for him.

You nudge up eagerly against his mouth and he grunts, guiding your head back to your pillow. You don't get to control this.

He kisses you until your movements grow languid and sleepy, thumbs brushing lazily over your cheekbones until you can't even look at him. Content now, you let out a breath and sink into the mattress.

Light from the window spills over your face like the moon herself adores you, and John takes a selfish moment to cradle your jaw between his palms, just admiring how well the silver glow bathes you. A serene smile graces your lips, eyes too heavy to open.

"Goodnight John." Your words are slurred just as much from the hour as they are from the alcohol.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." He says in a low voice. "Sweet dreams."

Maybe a better man would have simply found the bathroom, brought you your pills, and left. But there wasn't a better man than John, and he doesn't leave- at least not right away. He took his time going through your flat, checking every window before he made it to the medicine cabinet for the Advil.

It wasn't snooping or stalking. He was just looking. Just taking note of how you lived your life when nobody else was around, simply making sure that your place was secure and that nothing seemed amiss.

By the time he's back to set the drink and pills on your nightstand, you're completely out to the world. Vinny snores away beside you, barely cracking an eye to watch him.

"Take care of her f'me until I'm back, yeah?"

The dog just sighs deeply, and John might as well take that as a yes.

Chat, I DO NOT HAVE A FOOT FETISH. NOBODY BETTER SAY THAT IN THE COMMENTS (getting ahead of the rumours okay)

I did not have a great time writing this, but it's kind of a segue to the next and final part? Maybe? I mean ig i liked how it turned out, but I gave up halfway through. I am going to legit crash out at the next part, so don't expect that any time soon.

Ik it's shorter and also still no smut (bc im scared to write it lmao) but guysss John is a gentleman, of course he doesn't want to feel like he's taking advantage of someone who's drunk. But I promise smut in the next part ✨️😧😏

[vsa-pieldepapel]

I'm pretty sure people say that Ralsei has feminine traits. But do people say that Susie has masculine traits?

I realised that for some reason, when I think of any man, I can imagine some kind of compass of what behavioural traits are masculine and which are feminine, but when I think of any woman, I can't distinguish any masculine or feminine traits in them.

oh this ask really is the serendipitous intersection between character stuff and politisperging... fascinating, personally I saw susie as the more gnc of the two!

This may be heavily dependent on how you were born and raised yourself. it's easier to nitpick the familiar according to your culture and the people around you. I can immediately spot every "masculine" trait susie has that has been addressed in myself by my surrounding society.

Of course, "masculine" and "feminine" are only real the same way money is real. If as a society it was collectively decided tomorrow by everyone on earth that money is meaningless, it would become simply a collection of metal and paper trinkets. Similarly masculinity and femininity are very culturally influenced. Almost every different culture on earth has slightly different conceptions of what each means.

A broadly accepted one across many cultures though is the patriarchal conception of the male as a provider and protector, and the female as nurturer and caregiver. Of course this has many interpretations within that. You could say a man attuned to his feelings that can soothe the sadness of a partner is a good protector. You could also say a man who shuts his own suffering down to bear the burden of others is a good protector. Both of these notions still agree that the man is meant to be a provider and protector, though.

What I notice, having been born and raised female and being gnc, is that being loud and opinionated and assertive is a discouraged trait in women that is not taken seriously. That being tall and burly is considered ugly, and that being beautiful and accessible is feminine. You'll see this reinforced everywhere, those stupid girl dinner "demure" "i'm just a girl" memes and the whole divine feminine energy bullshit (that I detest by the way) all feed into the idea of the female as this incompetent but emotional nurturer who is quiet, polite, appeasing and eager to please. Over anything appearance related, that is Susie's most gender nonconforming trait- she isn't passive, or quiet, or "demure". She asserts herself, takes initiative, and is the very archetypically masculine role of the warrior protector (even in videogames, the tank is almost always a burly male).

These traits are cherished in her on a meta level because she's not real. In real women they are seen as hostile and disparaged (ask me how i Know 9_9). IRL you will be made to feel as both a failed woman and insufficient to take on the "man-role" because you're female. And you can see in-universe that Susie is disparaged for her rowdy presentation and loud assertion through the compliments she gives the rudinn rangers in Card Castle, which are all meant to reflect things she wishes she heard from others.

It can be hard to remember in modernity that women wearing pants was illegal at some point and punishable with death. For better or for worse the associations of hair length, clothing, and makeup with masculinity and femininity remain, even the wokies love to sort people into genders by the length of their hair and what clothes they wear.

But her most gnc trait is her lack of lying down and taking bullshit.

I'll also seize this ask to elaborate on one of the aspects that I find most fascinating, and relatable, about how Toby writes the tomboy experience. Susie's dialogue is close enough to home that she makes me fucking cry, man. In the newest chapter a pet theory of mine was confirmed: Susie's axes are hair brushes.

I love this because it shows so frankly a minute detail about the gnc female experience. There is a thruline you see sometimes about how a tomboy is still a woman, and this is true, but this is often used as an excuse to feminise gnc women, like you're denying your True Woman Nature and you'll eventually grow out of it, and this happens even in the fandom. How many fanarts are there of her in a dress and heels, catering to the observer, embarrassed and kind of humiliated by it?

But a tomboy is still a woman- in the sense that the pressure of the world gets to you, that at every step you're fighting it, that some of it sticks with you no matter how ardently you oppose it. I don't know jack shit about makeup except when it pertains to cosplay but I can tell when makeup is applied like shit because it was knowledge that was shoved onto me by force. I know basic hair care because it was the kind of thing that I was told to do over and over because maybe if you clean up you'll be pretty and finally someone will like you (it's never hygiene related, but cosmetics related; it's not about having clean hair that doesn't mat, it's about hair that looks good to an observer regardless of your own comfort).

You are tugged between who you are by nature and what people want you to be. You can't give society an inch, because it will forever shove into your face the one time you wore a dress and omg, you looked so pretty, why don't you do that again??? it's a never ending, thankless uphill battle.

So susie has her little hairbrush-- because she's still a girl. She worries about others' perception of her. She probably feels ugly. I spent most of school feeling like an ugly piece of shit no one would love. In the middle of everything, she still brushes her hair and makes it nice. She has the smallest pride and vanity- everyone does, and in women it is inextricably tied to desirability. She knows Noelle is "top shelf" because she's a polite, pretty girl who "cleans up"...

Does not mean she will ever let you put the ribbon on her though! A tomboy is still a woman, but she's also still a tomboy. (also shes so real for that).

question: Are you male? if so you probably have a compass better attuned to what is masculine behavior, because of the pressures and standards you are held to. If so I invite any man or person raised male to come and ramble about how toby writes ralsei's femininity beyond what is obvious to me, which is his nurturing side, appeasing social behavior, and "feminine" skills.

Something that I love about Ralsei and Susie's relationship is that Ralsei has no social conception of the masculine and the feminine so he doesn't give a fuck about himself or susie being gnc. It's so refreshing. It's also why i despise the transing of them- you are taking something shown honestly and without making it a big deal and making it a big deal and an indicator of a hidden true self. It's no different from the pressures of society.

[headcanon-everything]

Perchance a little more Luke Nukem, I am very much deprived and my gluttonous butt desires more of him (just a little more, I'll take anything at this point)

I've finally played through his story and I get it now, request to your heart's content my child 😌

Luke Nukem Headcanons

is a good cook!! is good at both regular cooking, cooking in the wilderness, and cooking for a large group!

they're all different skillsets, but he downplays his own skills unfortunately

don't ask him to bake though. just, just don't if you want your kitchen intact

not a big sweet tooth anyways tbh

couldn't make it through bootcamp because of a heart/manufacturing defect, which is how he ended up the mess cook for a unit instead

is actually a very good shot

^that is, if he can see the target

has terrible eyesight but refuses to wear glasses

I want to say the goggles are prescription but I know theyre not

likes people's hands - soft, calloused, long fingers, cool nails, doesn't matter

was one of those kids who always one-upped the others playing pretend

"I use a unicorn blast!" " well you can't because I have an anti unicorn forcefield!"

^yeah..that kid lmfao

likes reading quite a bit actually - prefers fiction

doesn't help his bad eyesight though

listen. I know the chassis is supposed to be his chest cavity but you CANNOT tell me it wasn't a euphemism when the game has the reader reaching all in there (he likes to bottom who said that)

likes to be the little spoon

I think I said that already but idc

I think he's actually a pretty decent dancer as well! nothing fancy, but can def do a little bit

likes stargazing on the "wasteland"

can actually navigate by stars though

catches others off guard

was one of the few people not bothered by Rainey and her music being played wrong

"I get how it can be when soldiers come back. When they get injured. It isn't pretty and they're never... the same. So I'll let her dance as long as she wants to dance, that trooper"

^he'll say with a tear in his eye of admiration

dramatic AF tbh

if he's in a relationship and someone is even 5 minutes late, he'll go to then wailing once he sees them again about how they don't love him anymore

is one of the few objects that could actually survive in the wilderness in their own

(,the others being Windowlynn, Wallace, and possibly Vaughn but I'll elaborate on them some other time)

has a high metabolism but also doesn't eat too much, so you can feel his ribs a little bit if you touched his torso

will help Stefan find his chicken if it wanders off, and is usually the first to find it

[apollonia4]

Hellooo! May I request a teen!Mc? It's okay if not:) But basically, a teen MC who believes in "Respect goes both ways" and challenges authorities, ideals, opinions, etc. (But they're still respectful unless disrespected)

It's less about picking a fight, and more about learning and expanding their POV without following beliefs blindly. I hope this is okay and you get what I mean!:)) (Also, their whole thing is about fighting injustice, if that makes sense?)

Is requesting both the demon brothers and dateables okay?? Or is it too many? I don't think I saw this in your boundaries, so I'm sorry if it IS too much 😓

Hiii, thanks for requesting! I'll gladly write it and dw I see the vision, I hope I can write it well! ♡

{] Teenage rebel MC [}

MC is a teen who got into the Devildom and does not approve of the way they're treated. They think people down here should treat them with respect or they will get none from them. How do the brothers and the side characters deal with that?

Genre: fluff, gn¡MC, 《platonic》, headcanons.

Lucifer:

◇ The first born knows your attitude a little too well. He was like that once as well after all. But just because he is able to understand what you're coming from doesn't mean he's going to let loose so easily.

◇ It's kind of an unspoken challenge between you two where you try to get eachother to show proper respect. You add oil to the flame by openly disregarding his blunt and rude orders and rules and he brushes you aside like you're complitely irrelevant.

◇ After some time you get more accomodated down here. You start to understand eachother better and accept that your arguing is pointless. You are both rebels at heart who seek justice and this was your bonding quality. Lucifer will still try to keep you at bay when it comes to debating about authorities here so you don't get yourself in trouble though. You're kind of like his trouble child (sigh...another one).

Mammon:

◇ At first he feels insulted by your attitude. What do you mean you're not bowing down to the great Mammon as soon as you see him?? It irritates him that this human child can disrespect him so much. First, the athmosphere around the two of you is pretty tense, you don't really want to be around someone so arogant and neglectfull of your presence and he doesn't want to be around someone who shows him no respect.

◇ Arguing turns to some kind of sibling bickering, where insulting eachother and pulling silly pranks is kind of your ritual. When one of the brothers points it out you always deny it but deep down you know that you've grown fond of the demon and that he doesn't hate you so much too. You make it your goal to observe him and other demons so you can understand what place do they come from.

◇ He won't say it outwardly but he does respect you. A human more so, a teen human who got sent here all alone yet still became one of the most powerfull people in the 3 worlds?? Oh you have his respect alright. Feeling it you stop with your insults aswell, you're practically a found family. That causes some trouble for Lucifer cause Mammon and you share the same fiery temperament that causes you problems often..

Leviathan:

◇ You don't like the way Levi talks to you. You tried to be polite so you're confused why he's so mean for no reason. That causes you to sulk a little but oddly out of all the brothers, he seems to be the most chill in the beggining. He's just protective of his lifestyle that's all.

◇ You get that just fine so there's not much conflict between you. Not to say you are besties right away but you feel like you can make peace with this one. So you sit around in his room a lot, talking with him about the games, what they're based on etc. Levi welcomes the interest but is still a little untrusting cause what if you're just pretending??

◇ He is also surprised about position on people of power down here. Why are you saying this stuff, why do you want to put this person to justice, shouldn't you be like scared?? It weirds him out but fascinates him at the same time. You're like one of those MC's in the games he plays! Humans are odd, he thinks. Somewhere along the way of otaku conversations he starts to get why you think this way and honestly, he's not opposed to it. He thinks everyone should stand for their beliefs and he's going to support you when you do (even if he's a little scared)

Satan:

◇ Satan welcomes new perspectives, knowlege is power after all so he doesn't shame you for your way of thinking at all. Infact, he kinda agrees even though he's someone in authority himself.

◇ He's a respectful demon, he knows proper manners and won't insult you in any way (unless you anger him..). In a phase where you two get to know eachother, you have lots of conversations or debates about the way things are orchistrated here and in the human world. He is curious about your system of power and you're intrested to hear his.

◇ You have a mutual understanding when it comes to not wanting to follow beliefs blindly. It is in both of your natures to question, to learn and to seek out different interpretations. And unfortunately or fortunately this is yet another headache for poor man Lucifer cause now his most rebelious brother has a little menace at his side.

Asmodeus:

◇ Asmo embodies pure confusion when it comes to you. He just can't get you. Why would you bother to occupy your mind with such silly things and worry when you can just focus on yourself and be comfortable??

◇ Problem is his mindset comes from a place of privelege, Asmo has been of high rank practically his whole life, that's why he doesn't see reason in questioning authority. You remind him a little of Lucifer though. He can't help it but find you cute (not in a weird way) when you stand for what you believe so resentfully.

◇ Asmo is all about being open minded though so after a while he doesn't think your attitude to be silly anymore. He gets you, respects your boundaries and understands that there are some things you don't wanna do or say. Will jump anyone who says something bad about you or the way you behave. You appreciate his support cause now you can be yourself here and that's important for both of you.

Beelzebub:

◇ Beel doesn't really care in the beggining. You're not his burden. That's not to say he's not gonna protect you if something comes up. He's dismissive, not heartless. He doesn't have a hard time understanding your stubborness, he gets that you can feel bad in your circumstances.

◇ So when you two become closer he becomes much more protective if you. On only are you a kid but your controversial views could get you in trouble if you said the wrong thing in public. He understands your drive for equality and equity but he also knows how the Devildom is and he's not about to let you get hurt!

◇ On the other side, he supports your opinions and helps you with expanding your knowlege of the way things work around here. Your point of view is very important to him and he wouldn't dream of disrespecting you.

Belphegor:

◇ He welcomes your attitude. In the beggining he might've used you to set himself free from his prison but after getting to know you, he saw your uniqueness and took interest in what you two could acomplish together.

◇ You and Belphie are very similiar in terms of questioning the norms and the rules of society. You're like two sneaky gremlins who are a menace of every entitled lord in the Devildom. Sometimes you even gossip about them and loord Diavolo does Lucifer have to cover his ears because the things you say are atrocious (according to him)

◇ Sometimes you argue though because Belphie feels like you're too polite. You wanna find out yourself how big of a jerk this noble is? Fine! Go, be all smiles just don't go complaining to him later..But he'll plan revenge with you after anyways.

Diavolo:

◇ He's not gonna lie, he feels kinda sorry for you. A teen all alone down here..He knows how you feel. But he trust Solomon and the others to make you feel at home.

◇ Even though he is royalty himself he doesn't get mad at your opinions. He actually thinks your way of thinking can be beneficial to citizens down here. He thinks some demons should learn how to accept others. It would definitely be a big step for the exchange program which he cares so much about.

◇ It goes without saying but Diavolo makes sure you're comfortable down here and he will not accept any demon or angel talking down at you.

Barbatos:

◇ Barbs is...concerned. Both for you and of you. He doesn't seem to be very supportive of your attitude, he thinks it is nothing but trouble. He also thinks you're a bit silly.

◇ But he has to give it to you, questioning authorities and people of power is quite brave. He also likes that you're willing to listen and you're not as stubborn as a donkey. Your openness doesn't go unnoticed by him.

◇ He finds himself watching over you at some parties, like a father figure looking if their child isn't gonna bump their head on the edge of the table. Of course he doesn't treat you as a complete kid but he's there. Like a tree that shields you from the sun, not agressive, not possesive or overwhelming but reassuring so you know that he'll advocate for you if need be.

Simeon:

◇ Simeon is worried like the responsible guardian he is. He worries for Luke and he worries for you, he can't help it! You're both just so young! But you needn't worry, he's always gonna help you if you need it.

◇ He doesn't think you're ridiculous at all, he understands the place you're coming from and he won't admit it out loud but sometimes he feels like that too. He is always open to talk with you if you're frustrated about something in particular.

◇ He also understands your sense of justice. It's a drive, sometimes he has to hold you back before you storm off to knock some sense into an disrespectfull demon.

Solomon:

◇ He is pretty happy when he sees you for the first time. Not only are you another human who can understand his struggles but you're also very similiar to him on a level of personality. You remind Solomon of himself when he was young. Angry, hungry for knowlege and justice, seeking out the truth and rebelling against the system.

◇ That doesn't mean he's just gonna let you ran of to wherever the wind takes you when you feel an urge to "just talk!" with someone who's diminishing another innocent person. No. He worries, let him deal with it.

◇ Due to you being so young he's very hesitant to let you go when you're together in a public setting, he finds himself getting stressed like a concerned mother and he has to stop and breathe a little to remind himself that you're not 5 and that he's not your actuall parent.

Okayyy I managed to fit all of them folks here together BUT! If you want me to write for the remaining characters I will gladly do so, just let me know and I hope I portrayed the vision well enough ♡♡

[thattimdrakeguy]

WHO IS DICK GRAYSON??

I wish I could make this post a little more detailed. But this is a team book, not a solo book. I'm using Marv Wolfman's New Teen Titans as a source, because I'm not going back to the 30s when he was 7 and mainly written to be a role model for kids. I don't see where that'd get us.

Writing standards change, and that's how it be.

And I started from the beginning. So yes, a lot of this will be developed. I have to say that, because a few times when I make posts like this, people think I'm acting like characters can't change.

I'm just saying there's a base to the character you should probably understand above anything else if you're going to give the character a shot, reading or writing wise.

If you go too far from the base. You get into the realm of missing the point more often than not. Possibly even just straight up getting them entirely wrong.

These early stories focus hard on making sure you get who they are for a reason.

And I've said this a few times in different posts about different characters, so it's probably tiring for me to say it again for anyone that follows me.

But good character development adds, it doesn't take away.

Got that?

I know you don't Tom Taylor. Stop turning everyone into boot-leg Spider-Man's. I get it already! You had success with him.

(Do you like me yet? See I criticized him too. I do genuinely despise his writing though. He barely knows how to make people individuals.)

Let's begin already I've gone on long enough:

Dick gets more confidence around as the series go on. But I'll include this anyway, since it's important context to knowing the nature of Bruce and Dick's evolving relationship, and why Dick would later become Nightwing.

Although, really, he still shows a lot of confidence here, but that youthful defensive kind, that would soften into a more usual confidence as he goes he learns a lot from being the leader of the New Titans.

And some people call Dick an optimist, but I think it's more accurate to say he's ultimately a realist who has moments where both optimism and cynicism can sink in depending on the quality of his life.

Much like a real person. It's a very nice trait for him to have. Keeps him real while surrounded by all these abnormal and astonishing things.

He's also respectable, and overall polite, but has it in him to get stern when he isn't pleased. He's no longer a total boy scout role model for the little ones. He's becoming a man now.

One of his biggest traits though I've noticed across the series as I've read it so far is that he has a lot of pride. It seems to be one of his main motivations as a character. His pride in himself and his friends.

It seems to me, that's one of the reasons why he's not on good terms with Batman. He thinks Batman constantly undermines him, and it takes shots at this pride of his.

And the thing about pride is, it can be a good trait, or a bad trait, depending on when it's applied. So have fun, campers, with that one. You might get a lot out of it.

There's some of that sterness again. He wants respect and to be taken seriously. He's not a total jerk about it. But he will make it known. It's done in a way I would consider nicely balanced. Shows a thing about him that if it was in another situation could become a negative of it, but isn't overall.

And there's a little bit of a temper with him. Though, honestly, I don't think he really showed much of a temper in this specific situation until Wally punched him in the damn face. I know he grabbed Raven, but she literally disappears into thin air. How else is he supposed to get her attention before she does that? She's a mysterious witch who they don't know.

Like, oh, pardon him for making sure they aren't being led into a trap. Oh how freaking dare he.

Sorry, I really don't like Wally in this series. He's insufferable.

Because, as well, he's learned by this point in his life to not always be trusting. He isn't naive in the slightest. He's a person of experience, and he shows he knows what he's doing at many turns.

This? What character trait is he showing here?

I dunno. I just put this here because I thought it was funny.

During this part of the story where the New Teen Titans are being used and controlled, I think it's a cool way to show the depths of Dick's frustrations with Batman, without risking him coming across as unlikable by doing this through his own natural behaviors.

Gives you a peak into his brain, and what ails him.

I sort of like his early need to keep proving himself too.

This would also diminish as he became full on Nightwing, and was properly his own man who finally gets the respect he deserves. But still fun to show it here regardless.

I love how commanding he is through his confidence. He doesn't back down, and refuses to be seen as lesser. That's really respectable.

He's saying this to the Justice League.

The most powerful force on their Earth.

Balls of steel.

Look at this, man. He doesn't care if you took him in. If he thinks you messed up, you'll hear about it from him himself.

It's that pride of his again coming out.

He's still a very caring person though. He's stern, and can get aggressive when he feels disrespected. That's not to say he's some grumpy jerk. Just don't push him around or undermine him.

Dick's a lovely dude to have as a friend overall.

A skill of his seems to be a certain level of emotional intelligence. Not always with himself. But he's not Batman. Dick is no fool as we've seen. And he is right here. So the best way I can describe it is Dick being good at reading people when it matters most.

His greatest strength of all though is how he's a natural leader.

It's why he's here.

And to book-end it for now--

He sort of says it for himself how he feels. I can't imagine I need to spell it out for you any further.

There's still more to learn. This is a long series, but my tabs were getting overwhelmed with screenshots. And I figured this is a wonderful (Get it? WONDERful. Yeah, I know, it's not funny.) place to get to the basics of the character.

As I learn more, I'll make another posts where we get more into the depths of the guy. Where you get more out of what makes him tick, and define who is, instead of only basic traits he shows when interacting with people.

'Cause we all know there's more to this complex man than this alone.

Hopefully you'll be there with me when we get that.

And if so, see ya then.

Edit:

Dick tries to be a peacekeeper if he can. At least when he sees no benefit of being anything but.

Didn't really show a lot of depth, just a basic trait. So I saw no reason to keep this for the next post.

[freyalooove]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who treats you like his favorite sin and his only salvation. He'll kiss you like it's a crime, but hold your hand like it's religion. His friends make fun of him for being so whipped—until he slams a guy into the wall for looking at you wrong.

"Touch her again and you'll lose your hand."

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who's the definition of soft possessiveness. You're always in one of his jackets. His rings are on your fingers. His cigarette pack is in your bag. You're in his lap at every party, thighs spread slightly under a too—short skirt—and he dares anyone to look.

"Yeah, she's mine. You got a fucking problem with that?"

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who gets mean when he's jealous—but only in private. You smile too sweet at someone else and he's dragging you both into the bathroom, hand over your mouth, fingers already inside you.

"You want attention, baby?" Say it. Beg me while you ride my fingers like a desperate little slut."

And afterward, he kisses your forehead like he didn't just ruin you in a locked stall.

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ whos secretly obsessed with making you feel safe. He checks your potions before you drink them. He walks you back to your dorm every night. He always stands between you and any chaos. He won't say it out loud, but the truth slips in moments like:

"If anything happened to you... I'd burn this fucking castle down."

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who talks you through every orgasm like it's a prayer.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. So fucking pretty when you fall apart for me..."

He goes slow when he wants to. Kisses every inch of you. Worships your body like he's memorizing it—like he's scared it'll be taken from him.

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who has a mouth that lives between your thighs. You could be arguing, ignoring him, or studying for hours—and Lorenzo will appear out of nowhere, drag you onto his bed, and sink down until your legs shake.

"Keep pretending you don't want me, baby. I'll make you come so hard you forget your name."

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who takes photos of you when you're not looking. Messy hair in his shirt. Sunlight on your thighs. Lips swollen from his kisses. He has a folder hidden under lock charm. He stares at it when he can't sleep.

"You don't even know how good you look, do you?"

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ who buys you lingerie just so he can take it off of you. Silk. Lace. Straps that frame you perfectly. He'll drag you into a fitting room and whisper how he's going to fuck you in it tonight.

"Try it on for me. No bra. Let me see what's mine."

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ whos emotionally terrible but trying for you. Lorenzo isn't used to softness. He gets overwhelmed by how much he loves you. Sometimes he gets quiet. Moody. Distant. But he always comes back with trembling hands and bloodshot eyes.

"Don't leave. I don't know how to do this shit—but I'll learn. For you."

ʙꜰ!ᴇɴᴢᴏ whos thinking about forever—and it terrifies him. He jokes about it at first.

"Can't wait to see you pregnant with my kids. You'd look so fucking good."

But then he says it more seriously. Half-asleep. After sex. With his hand on your stomach and his heart in your palm.

"Don't ever leave me. I couldn't take it."