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#it's like wanting to do something and someone tells you to do it
slvttyplum · 2 days
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dating someone with a child wasn't for you, but being an auntie was something more your speed, so dating someone who was an uncle was a dream come true, until he got obsessed with making you a mother.
sukuna was obsessed with you; he could never see himself being with anyone else but you. you were everything he needed, down to the way you walked and sat down; everything you did made his pupils form little hearts. besides the fact that he loved you from the inside out, he also loved how you could handle him and the way you were whenever he fucked you. 
drool rolling down the side of your face with tears in your eyes and your walls clinging around him. there was no complaining even when you were overstimulated; instead, it was you begging him to give you more and to cum inside of you. of course, that was just horny blabbering that the both of you had to make up for when sukuna took a trip to the CVS every morning, but eventually sukuna started to take it seriously.
he fell in love with the way your pussy looked after he fucked you senseless and had cum leaking out of you and his sweat along with your own dripping down your body. there was something about the sight that he couldn't get enough of. the cum dripping out of you was already stimulating and made his dick rock hard again, but it also made him yearn for something else—for that sweet seed that would float around your stomach.
thinking of how cute you would look pregnant and how you'd treat the child.
he knew what you wanted and how you loved being an aunt to yuji and only him, but he just couldn't stop thinking about it, or maybe he wanted more of a reason to fuck his cum into you back to back with the possibility of a little you running around the house. 
could you really blame him?
your walls clenching around him, pushing the cum out as he fucked into you deep. one of his hands slipped into yours, and the other was around your neck. you couldn't just make him cum so easily and not have him fuck the cum into you; it was a waste. he craved more—more than a fantasy, more than just thinking about it. 
sometimes the pleasure was just flowing through you so easily that you never wanted him to stop, you would cling onto him to stay inside of you and to keep going, even if that meant shooting three loads inside of you back to back.
the way his heart skipped a beat every time he saw his cum drip out of you was like a reward every time, and the fact that you let him do it said enough in his mind. kissing your neck while he was deep inside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, telling you how much he loved and cared for you before finishing deep inside, making you squirm.
every time you were under his trance, the consequences of just letting it be got higher and higher. its not like you didn't think about it either; think about just letting his cum stay deep inside you, but there was no way, even if sukuna tried his best to convince you.
he was still going to cum inside of you and hoped after the fact that you changed your mind, but your mind was made up. sukuna respected that; he knew what you did and didn't want, so until then, he was going to wait until you were...
...and continue to cum inside of you.
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sexbot300 · 2 days
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹  rival!gojo head-canons
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contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.
tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.
a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.
rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.
rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.
rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.
rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.
rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”
rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:
“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”
rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.
rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.
rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.
rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”
rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”
rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.
rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred—- what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.
rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.
rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.
rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.
rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:
“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?”  “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.”  “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.”  “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”
rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”
rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”
rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.
rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.
rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back. 
rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?
rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”
rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.
rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.
rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?
rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 
rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.
rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”
rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too. 
rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.
rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.
rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.
rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.
rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.
rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.
rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.
rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.
rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.
rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.
rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.
“something caught your eye satoru?”  “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”
rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better. 
rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.
rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”
rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck to drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly and a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”
rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off of his.
rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”
rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch. 
rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”
rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.
rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.
rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.
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luveline · 2 days
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Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!
ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k
cw reader has a concussion
Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 
You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 
He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 
“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 
Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 
“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 
He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 
“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 
Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 
You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 
“Hi Hotch.” 
“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 
“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”
“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 
“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 
Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 
“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 
“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 
JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 
He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 
You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 
She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 
“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 
Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 
You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 
Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 
“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 
JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   
Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 
JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 
He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 
You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 
You nod into your rubbing. 
“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 
“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 
“Do you need help?” 
“Not for the fruit.” 
“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 
“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 
He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 
“You could be a doctor.” 
“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 
“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 
“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 
You stare up at him. “You want to?” 
“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 
“My boyfriend might not like it.” 
Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 
“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 
You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 
That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.
You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 
“Sorry,” he murmurs. 
“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 
“Why not?” 
“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 
“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 
He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 
“Yes?” 
You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 
“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 
“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 
“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 
“Why?” 
“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 
You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 
Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 
“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 
“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 
“I’d like to go back.” 
“Home?” 
“For breakfast.” 
“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 
“What?” you ask. 
You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 
He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 days
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David was asked about the Fennec Foxes! :D ❤ (watch the video - I also included there the fennec foxes posts and I recommend watching until the end! :D)
youtube
Fan question: May you want to tell us about the moment Georgia told you about the fennec foxes?
David: Now, what is this? This is something Neil Gaiman said, right? And then someone ran with it and now there's lots of pictures. What, what, what?
Int: I feel like Georgia gets you in a lot of trouble.
David: I don't think this one was Georgia's fault.
Fan: No, it was Neil.
David: It was Neil Gaiman's fault. I don't think Georgia entirely understands it either. Did you understand it?
Audience: Yeah.
Fan: It is... Neil said they have struggles with money so they can't afford to pay you for all the Second Season of Good Omens, so they had just some fennec foxes because nobody could tell the difference anyways.
David: Oh was Neil very drunk?
Fan: Maybe you should ask him.
David: Possibly. Right, listen, I'm sure a fennec fox in Season Three is going to do an excellent job.
Fan: Oh, yes, please.
David: Oh, all right, all right, chill out, recasting me.
Int: Your fennec fox is showing right now, chill.
David: What is fennec about fennec fox? I mean, what is the difference?
Int: I think it's like...it's like the Salisbury and Salisbury steak.
David: They're sort of...they're kind of rather blonde, aren't they? With sort of slightly more horn like ears, tight?
Int: They're the cute ones that you want to have as a pet.
David: Oh, as long as I'm a cute one, that's alright.
Fan: They mainly live in the desert, that's why they have so...
David: They mainly live in the desert, much like myself, yeah, yeah, I can see why he got...
Int: It's so dry and arid in Glasgow
David: It's very dry and arid in Glasgow, yeah.
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bratzforchris · 2 days
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Sunflowers
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Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.
Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader
Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!
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ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety. 
Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason. 
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door. 
The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for. 
Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with. 
“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”
Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone. 
Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”
The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter. 
“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”
Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up. 
“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds. 
As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself. 
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task. 
The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown. 
Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful. 
“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully. 
Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated. 
The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online. 
The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him. 
“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”. 
“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy. 
Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully. 
“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”
“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails. 
“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.
Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered. 
“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”
Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them. 
“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic. 
“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated. 
“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal. 
Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him. 
“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly. 
“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy. 
You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed. 
“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug. 
You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you. 
“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”
“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you. 
“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered. 
“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”
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tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
note ♡: if you'd like to bed added to my taglist, click here <3
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 days
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Imagine Gojo and Sukuna fighting over you on the battlefield.
“You already gave me 99 reasons to kill you. But trying so steal my girl…”
Sukuna’s grip around your waist tightens. How did you end up in this situation? Gojo, who apparently came to your rescue and Sukuna…
He’s so close you’re literally able to taste him, the way his arm is wrapped around you completely making your knees go weak. The truth is, you never settled for Gojo. Isn’t he just a flirt, a guy who hooks up with random girls on a regular basis? You never payed that much attention to all the compliments he showered you with, how he always made sure to hold the door for you, to get you something to eat. After all, he’s acting like that towards every woman, right?
Apparently not. The unpromising gleam in his bright blue orbs tells you more than urgently that this is serious. Satoru came here to get you back.
Sukuna, on the other hand…
“Is she your girl, though? Why would someone like (y/n) waste her time with someone like you?”, Sukuna bites back in amusement.
“She chose me”, Satoru clarifies.
“And now give her back.”
Your heart almost beats out of your throat. That look on Satoru’s face, the way Sukuna presses you even tighter against his muscular frame…How are you supposed to collect a single thought when you’re surrounded by the two strongest individuals in this word, especially when you are the reason for their fight?
“Is she?”
“I bet she’d look good by my side as my queen. What do you have to offer?”
“I offer you my fucking fist.”
Satoru takes a step forward. Suddenly his usual so goofy and tender side has vanished into thin air, all that’s left being that cold glare in his eyes and his hands balled into tight fists.
Fuck, this means nothing but trouble. Your mind starts racing back and forth. If they fight right here, they’ll leave an unimaginable trail of chaos behind with no one who’s able to stop them. If you don’t do something right now…
“Stop. Both of you.”
With a swift motion, you free yourself from Sukuna’s grip and stand your ground between them, arms raised in a lousy attempt to stop the fuming men.
“Aren’t both of you old enough to act like grown men? Are you really about to start a fight over a woman?”
“You.”
Your gaze drifts towards Gojo.
“You are nothing but a flirt. We were never serious with each other, why are you calling me ‘your girl’? Maybe start acting a little more stern if that’s what you want.”
“But (y/n)-“
“And you.”
Suddenly your eyes are fixated on Sukuna.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You almost killed all of my friends with your behaviour and don’t get me started on Yuji. I don’t wanna be the queen to someone who acts so reckless and selfish.”
“Did you…really just say that?”
“And to top it all of: How childish of both of you to fight over me like a piece of meat. I’m a person, I can decide on my own, y’know? Treating me like this definitely turns me off. And now excuse me, I promised to grab a coffee with Choso.”
Without saying another word, you turn on your heels and let both men stand in the rain.
“Did she just…”
“This can’t be happening right now”, Gojo mutters.
“She really left you standing in the rain”, Sukuna comments dryly.
“ME!? You’re talking about yourself”
“She’d never reject me-“
“ME EITHER!”
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nanamis-princess · 3 days
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✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Your their passenger princess
Synopsis: just head canons about being their passenger princess:)
Genre: fluff
T/w: mentions of shoko smoking, bad driving lol, possibly oc geto? And misspellings
Nanami, gojo, geto, shoko, megumi, yuji & nobara (separately) X reader
Nanami
-he always has his free hand on your thigh or holding your hand. His thumb brushes over your thigh/thumb gently but if it annoys you he stops.
-steals glances at you while at red lights, giving you a soft smile as the light turns green
-he cant help but laugh if you guys miss an exit because you thought it was a bit further down.
-he doesn’t mind listening to what you pick, he’s kinda the type to listen to a podcast while driving tho. Or an audiobook.
-when you type in the location in his maps you see his favorite places saved. Your favorite stores & restaurants are saved, along with his favorite bakery ofc.
-he’s a very safe driver but you can’t tell me his not putting across you if the car has to come to a abrupt stop.
-he has beach scented air fresheners in his car.
-has a photo of you at the beach holding up a seashell, clipped to a photo of Haibara in his visor.
-keeps mints/ gum in his car at all times along with a lint roller (he’s a cat dad)
Gojo
-his free hand is always on your thigh
-asks you to feed him while he’s driving, he accidentally bit your finger before and offered to kiss it to make it feel better.
-he’s a safe driver for the most part but he has his moments. He’s like a 100% positive there was never a stop sign there.
-he misses his exits a lot. Like a lot, a lot.
-his car smells like his cologne.
-has an extra pair of his iconic glasses on his visor along with a photo of you and Megumi sitting at his favorite ice cream spot.
-likes driving to beautiful nature areas with you after making a snack run.
-needs music on at all times, he requests song but then just ends up making a bunch of playlist for you guys. But don’t worry you are still his DJ.
-always has a hoodie or jacket in his backseat that you probably end up stealing.
Geto
-always holds your hand while driving, he also brings your hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss.
-his car smells like black cherry and his windows are tinted.
-a decent driver but does speed, not always while your in the car tho. Unless you like that kinda thing;)
-has a necklace of yours around his rear view mirror that you gave him
-loves doing those cute fast food date ideas where you pick the appetizer, he picks the main meal and you pick the dessert.
-likes to make out with you at red lights until it turns green and gets honked at.
-while he lets you pick the music you find a playlist with your name as the title its songs that remind him of you. He has another one of music you’ve played before.
-has a case of water on the floor in the backseat along with a blanket.
Yuji
-he most likely keeps his hands on the wheel or tweaking with something as he drives but likes holding your hand while driving. Sometimes puts his hand on your thigh.
-always has your favorite candy or gum in his glove compartment.
-requests like two different songs at once but tells you which order to play them in. “They just pair together well” he laughs as you type all that in.
-like Gojo always has a hoodie in his backseat along with a pair of sneakers and a water bottle he forgets about.
-also has random papers in the backseat that he keeps forgetting to look at
-he’s also a decent driver, but when your in the car he’s more aware. Not that he’s less likely to be careful but the last thing he wants his to hurt you or someone else.
-has a group photo of you, him, Nobara and Megumi in his visor.
-his car keys have a matching keychain that he shares with you.
Megumi
-it’s a small gesture but he loves holding your hand while he’s driving. Gives it a gentle little squeeze from time to time along with a kiss on the back of your hand.
-has LED lights at the bottom of the car that he keeps red for most of the time but lets you change the color.
-before dating you he didn’t really use air fresheners but he found one that reminded him of your perfume/cologne.
-gives you full control of the music
-relies on your directions more than the map because up he always misses the exit.
-there is a little dog hair in his backseat that he tries his best to get out lol, he didn’t keep a hoodie or blanket back there until he started dating you.
-has a car charm with your first initial around his rear view mirror.
-doesn’t mind if you eat from his food as he drives, he will give you his last fry, or chicken nuggets.
Nobara
-holds your hand while driving but doesn’t mind if you put your hand on her thigh.
-loves driving around listening to music with you if you don’t have a set destination. If you have a set destination (and she hasn’t been there before) she needs the music on low to focus.
-you guys have a playlist you add songs together
-has one of those mini trash cans that’s hooked to the backseat
-also has leather seat covers that matches her steering wheel
-going shopping with you and then getting a sweet treat after is her favorite thing to do on her day off, she’ll spoil you and herself until her backseat is full of shopping bags.
-she’s a good driver, no accidents and no tickets. But that curb is her enemy.
-her glove compartment has an extra hairbrush and lip gloss. She keeps things you use on the go too.
-keeps two hoodies in her backseat if you both get cold
Shoko
-she prefers having her hand on your thigh when she drives if she isn’t smoking
- likes to tease you by rubbing her hand up your thigh and gives it a little squeeze. She chuckles with a small smile at the effect that it has on you.
-has hair ties around her shifter and in the middle compartment she keeps a pack of cigarettes
-her car smells like caramel with a hint of nicotine
-she also wont smoke in the car if it bothers you or as a matter of fact around you in general
-she’s a very good driver but has parking tickets
-got you a head rest pillow in your favorite color to put on your seat
-also keeps a blanket that’s your favorite color in her backseat along with a bag hook if hanging on the pack of your seat A/N: hello cuties:3 it’s been a minute. This took me two weeks to write lolll, I’m in a bit of a rut & lacking motivation. More stuff is on the way tho 💕🌸
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a-b-riddle · 12 hours
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You're not her...
I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.
Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...
So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?
The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.
Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.
In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.
Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost
John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.
And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.
After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.
You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.
It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.
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cherryredstars · 1 day
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Hey sweetie hoping you're doing well
What about a college au where Miguel is a punk and reader is a smarty coquette? And Miguel is very teasing with her to catch her attention... Very enemies to lovers (with smut)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Penetrative Sex, Slight Mentions of Bondage
Summary: He loves how you wear your ribbons.
A/N: This request is so cutesy!! I hope you're doing well too, love!
Unedited
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You hate him.
Which hurts you to say because you really do try your best not to hate anyone. But Miguel O'Hara makes it very easy to hate someone. You're just so tired of him! It's like he makes it his life mission to make you angry. Which makes you even more mad because he likes seeing you angry because he just loves making fun of how you look when you're mad!
He's always trying to annoy you. He finds it hilarious to pull on the ends of your bows, making them uneven and loose. You have to spend well over 5 minutes trying to fix your hair while he snickers about it. He's always pulling you back by tugging on your necklace of the day, maybe even pulling the ends of your styled hair. To him, there is always something nasty to point out about your carefully crafted outfits, let it be the quaint design, the ruffles, or even the freaking soft color of it. He finds some sick enjoyment in messing up your aesthetic notebooks and pens, removing the small decorations off of them when you're not looking or dirtying them with graphite stains. He always has to comment about something. He's making fun of the stuff he sees you liking on social media when he's being nosy. Has to tell you how utterly trash your music taste is as a Lana Del Ray song is sung under your breath. Can't let you have an ounce of peace when you talk about how badly you want the new Sonny Angels collection or looking for a specific Calico Critters set. Don't even get him started about all the pastel, cute items you have saved on Pinterest or on your home decor wish list.
But honestly, Miguel is a sucker for everything about you. He's constantly on his knees every time you walk into the lecture hall wearing your frilly skirts and dresses. Damn near collapses of a heart attack when he pulls on the silky bows in your hair or on your necklaces and the sweet smelling perfume you wear hits his nose. He's itching to steal one of your pens so he can have it everywhere he goes or taking a peak into your notebook to look at the dainty notes you are so concentrated on taking. He likes peering into your ribbon-filled world, trying to understand the 'relatable' posts you like about your favorite things. His browsing history is of the little toys you keep mentioning, an occasional search for room decor breaking the stream of Sonny Angels links. He has that one Lana Del Ray Album that you keep singing saved to his music app, and he much prefers your covers.
He finds luck where you find despair. While he loves the fact your professors always pair you two together because of your smarts, you find dread in knowing you can't escape him throughout the weekdays. You always have a pout on your glossy lips as you reluctantly take your seat neck to him, your tote bag falling on the long desks with a thump to further emphasize your mood. It makes him chuckle, seeing your obvious dislike of being around him. It makes his heart skip a beat every time you turn to him, warning him in a low whisper to not get on your nerves today. In turn, he should be telling you not to distract him. He can't count how many times he's stopped paying attention to the lecture because he's watching you reapply your lip gloss or fix your hair from the corner of his eyes. He's paralyzed for a good minute when you spray your perfume, leaning his arm the slightest bit out so the smell can cling to his leather jacket throughout the day.
But he finds himself the luckiest when he's walking through your dorm room for a project, taking in the distinct smell of you and a room that looks exactly like your Pinterest boards. He isn't exactly sure how it happens, but one second your notebooks are sprayed out against the covers of your bed, and the next they're a crumpled mess on your floor as he has you pinned under him. Your soft bed sheets have nothing on your skin as his rough hands travel up your legs and arms, pulling down the straps of your dress and untying them from the back. He's never been more in love with your bows than the moment your dress slips off your body to reveal the small bows decorating your underwear. It makes him groan as he slips them off your body, making a mental note to please take them home with him when he's done.
As much as he loves the ribbons in your hair, he can't help but think how pretty you look when your hair falls around your shoulders. He much prefers the look of the silk ribbon around your wrists, making sure the ends are even and the bow is tied in perfect loops. Your glossy lips look divine as they drop open in a moan as he pushes into your tight cunt, obsessed with the way your walls pulsate around his leaking cock. And the way you call out his name in that wobbly tone, so different from the low hisses you usually give him, has him gritting his teeth to will himself not to shoot his load so soon. His mind is as loopy as your bows when he buries his face in your neck, huffing at the smell of vanilla cherry and sweat and sex on your skin. He feels like he's in paradise, and even the low tones of Lana's voice filling the room doesn't take away anything from the moment.
Don't question him when that pink ribbon around your wrists goes missing after this, because there is no way in hell he isn't taking that home with him too.
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 days
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So, thoughts on the whole Jinx x Lux shipping popularity blowing up? Why it happened, do you think it can work, especially with the context of Arcane involved?
I don't actually know the history of that ship, so I can't tell you much about that (someone else please reblog if you have a good timeline!)
I know it certainly bloomed with the Star Guardian skins, casting Lux and Jinx SPECIFICALLY as opposites and bitter rivals who nonetheless come together when it matters because they are bound by bonds of deep affection and mutual need, which, in the context of magical girls which are sapphic as F*** at a baseline, obviously was going to set some things in motion.
Their dynamic also works pretty well just on the trope level. Lux is a optimistic, bright ray of sunshine who wants to see the best and the good in everyone and everything but struggles tremendously feeling inadequate to her responsibilities, and Jinx is a sardonic, detached, self-destructive force of chaos who aggressively refuses to take anything seriously, and whose carefree demeanor hides a deep well of hurt and sorrow.
That's in Star Guardians, mind you, Jinx is... a bit all over the map as a personality across her incarnations, but they generally work well together as contrasting opposites with something meaningful to offer one another.
In Arcane, I have no idea what Demacia would be like, but assuming it goes like it does in the main canon, Lux and Jinx certainly would share some foundational traumas, both of them on the receiving end of rejection and systemic abuse by oppressive hierarchies, and experiencing severe rejection and abandonment by parental and sibling figures.
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine
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☾ @gutsby
☼ Wedded Bliss
⭒ The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
☾ @samthemarvelfan
☼ Bad Romance
⭒ In Brooklyn, everyone knows the unwritten rule: you don’t cross James Barnes. When you return after nearly half a decade, things are anything but the same. After the murder of your Uncle, you begin to learn that no one is who they say they are, and that you may have accidentally given your heart to a mobster; The White Wolf of Brooklyn. More dangerous than that, he’s given you his.
☾ @anonymityisfunwriter
☼ Two Sides of the Same Coin
☼ You're Losing Me
⭒ Your fairytale ending is crumbling before your eyes. You don't know how to love someone who can't tell you're dying. You fear you're fading away, begging him to do someone, say something, choose something. You fear he won't be able to resuscitate you this time. This time, he's losing you.
☼ Alone Together
⭒ It was always been you and Bucky, alone together, you'd say. But suddenly, you're just alone.
☾ @pellucid-constellations
☼ For the Love of the Game
⭒ Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 
☾ @sinner-as-saint
☼ Tempestuous
⭒ With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it? 
☼ Ruin
⭒ You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you. 
☼ A Sweeter Place
⭒ Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever. 
☼ You're No Saint
⭒ Steve and Bucky have been friends since they were young boys. They are inseparable, so naturally when you married Steve you were aware that Bucky came along with him. Every event, every vacation, even as the best man at your wedding - Bucky was always there, alongside you and Steve. He was one of your best friends as well, so you’ve never thought of him in a sexual way, ever. That is until one certain night, when you see something you’re not supposed to and you like it a little too much. You deny your desire towards Bucky, but Steve knows you better than anyone. He knows what you want and need, and he’s determined to fulfil your fantasy; because what his wife wants, she gets. 
☼ Run For Your Life
⭒ He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. 
☼ All Yours
⭒ One of your students confess their feelings for you and things get interesting... 
☾ @mellowsaturns  
☼ In Losing Grip, on Sinking Ships
⭒ when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
☼ All to Myself
⭒ after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him
☾ @renxzs
☼ Redemancy
⭒ Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.
☾ @cryptidcasanova
☼ My Devotion
⭒ The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.
☾ @subwaysurf45
☼ She's Not Mad
⭒ Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 
☾ @adrinktostopyourthirst
☼ Sniper
⭒ Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.
☼ Three Hundred
⭒ Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?
☼ Variant
⭒ The chaos of the multiverse is quite literally holding up a mirror to Bucky. Turns out, it's very easy to get under someone's skin when you have a universal connection to them.
☼ Underground
⭒ The Underground is the last way for you to survive whatever is left of the world after the Blip. Natasha introduces you to the Winter Soldier whose wing you're under until you find your way around. He's a stoic Underground fighter and you're... useless.
☼ One Shot
⭒ Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.
☾ @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
☼ After All This Time
☾ @boxofbonesfic
☼ You're Gonna Give Me Six
☾ @little-miss-dilf-lover
☼ Fifteen Minutes
☾ @ellemj
☼ Bigger Than He Was
⭒ Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.
☼ Strawberries
⭒ Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?
☼ Breathe, Part 2
⭒ Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.
☼ Flustered, part 2
⭒ Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.
☾ @viixenvi
☼ Red
⭒ You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.
☾ @ro-is-struggling
☼ Self Care
⭒ Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.
☾ @kinanabinks
☼ Silent Girl
⭒ After a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. Bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.
☾ @angrythingstarlight
☼ Roommate Bucky
☾ @wkemeup
☼ Cold, Cold Water
⭒ While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive.
☼ Drunk On You
⭒ Bucky has always been nervous around you. When he’s tasked with caring for you after a night of heavy drinking and suddenly you’re kissing him, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly want him sober, right?
☼ Honey and Chamomile
⭒ Four cups of tea, four distinct moments in time, and each pulls you in closer beyond the walls surrounding Bucky’s heart.
☼ Suburbia
⭒ Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.
☼ Eclipse
⭒ When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface. 
☼ Back to Bourbon Street
⭒ When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough. 
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Lil' One
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He's so cute you wanna have two of him!
p.s. look at that smile, someone give him the world already!
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Theme: fluffffffffffffffff
Warnings: nothing really
Word count: 0.6 k
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You come across one of his baby photos while scrolling online, It's so cute and lovely that gets you so excited you switch to your mother tongue and start blabbering every expression of adoration you know. He knows when you get like this you're being super affectionate about something, just like the times your heart is overflowing with love for him and you tell him these words, that he doesn't quite understand yet, between the wet smooches you plant all over his skin.
His curiosity is roused. He walks over to you and bends down to look at your phone over your shoulder. You hear his airy chuckles and turn to him, looking at him with a pout: “when did you lose those fluffy cheeks? I wanna squish them so bad” then turn your head again to proceed with wanting to die for that soft round face. You bring the phone to your lips and smooch the pic, then press it hard to your chest.
He complains: “ya! I’m right here, why are you kissing a photo when you can kiss the real deal?”
“This is the real deal!! Look how cute… how soft... oh my god… wish I could hold baby Minho…” You whine and look at him with a frustrated face like it’s his fault that he grew up and isn’t a baby anymore.
He smirks: “You can hold a baby Minho if you really want to, you know.”
You do know what he means but you play dumb: “Really? Like how?”
“Like we make love and a baby too.”
His words make your heart skip a beat. You weren't expecting him to get to the point so fast, thought he’d be beating around the bush and teasing you for a while. You turn in your seat and mount the couch to face him. Tears are stinging your eyes but you blink them away.
“Are you fucking with me?”
“No, I would never, not with such a sensitive matter.” He says with a stern face, no signs of joking or teasing.
“It’s a huge responsibility. Are you sure about it?”
He steps closer and takes your hands in his, brings them up to his lips and kisses them. Then with the most composed tone he goes: “I am, if you’re the one mothering my child. Do you want it too, love?”
You look at him with heart-eyes and an upside-down smile: “you’re my whole world baby, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. Thinking about growing a part of you inside of me and turning it to a little version of you warms my heart”.
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Yes!” you answer him with the brightest smile. His arms circle your waist to pull you in for the sweetest kiss. Your arms go around his shoulders, pressing your bodies impossibly close. He picks you up and twirls you around, then nuzzles his face to your neck as he’s still carrying you.
He takes you to your shared bed, lays you down and dives down to capture your lips. After some fervent kissing, he pulls back and stares into your eyes with adoration: “Our baby's gonna be the luckiest having you as their mother. God, I love you so much”. You cup his face, caressing his soft cheeks, he closes his eyes. You guide his head to your chest and he lowers his body to lie down next to you, his arms quickly find their place around your torso and his leg drapes over your hip. You love him with every fiber of your existence and no amounting of holding his head close to your chest could convey that.
“Can we lie here like this for a bit? I need to hold my big baby first to make sure he knows how much I love him before making a lil' one. And I will always love you the most”. You kiss the top of his head, sniffing his shampoo in the process.
His arms get tighter around you, he kisses your chest and replies: “Anything for the mommy”.
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reiding-writing · 13 hours
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Congrats on 1000 followers! That's such a huge milestone! For the climacteric event, could you do a continuation of 'Takedown'? Maybe a role reversal, where cold!reader witnesses a badass moment from Spencer (whether his 'takedown' is physical or verbal is up to you) and gets flustered about it? I love your cold!reader series so much, it's such a great character dynamic with the rest of the cast!! Congrats again!
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TAKEDOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part one/
Spencer might be a know-it-all, but at least he actually knows the things that he talks about.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, just some guy being really obnoxious and annoying, mild mansplaining
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.4k || event masterlist!!
a/n: we’re gonna ignore i uploaded this prematurely and just focus on the fic thanks 😭🫶
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
this is a continuation of my original ’takedown’ fic for cold!reader with a role reversal!
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Spencer wouldn’t say that he liked to ‘show off’.
He knew he was smarter than most people, and his teammates knew he was smarter than most people, and that meant that when he displayed his intelligence to provide important details about a case, the team would take his word for it.
It saved a lot of time in explanations for where he got his information from and allowed for profiles to be built at twice the speed.
But sometimes asking someone to quote a source was necessary.
Case in point, a police detective from Indiana who just would not leave the BAU team alone as they tried to curate a profile for the serial killer they were hunting.
Some of his muses, most definitely flukes in knowledge, actually did have a productive outcome.
“A majority of stabbing cases have an underlying sexual motive, so I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the sex-offences registry for anyone who could be our killer,”
And some…
“Have we considered the possibility that our killer is actually killers, I mean if you look at the stab patterns across the victims, there’s a clear dominant and submissive personality no?”
…were the exact opposite.
“What you’re seeing is a progression of the unsub’s confidence,” Spencer shook his head slightly at the detectives attempt at an explanation. “The slashes are only jagged and uncertain in the two first victims, with all of the victims after that displaying much more confident wounds, which clearly shows the evolution of one individual, not multiple,”
He didn’t like having to shut other people’s trains of thought down, it was something that he’d gone through enough to not want to put anyone else through it, but when they were the complete opposite of productive, sometimes it was for the best.
It was remarkably easy to tell when somebody had read something on the internet rather than actually going through the training required to be competent in a certain specialty. Especially when it came to the forensic side of things.
Throwing in key words like dominant and submissive personalities didn’t mean that he knew what he was on about. It just meant that he’d read a few case articles on a certain subject and then passed that off as a rounded understanding of whatever concept he was trying to explain.
And it was really frustrating.
“What’s wrong with you today?” You enter the put aside meeting room with narrowed eyes, a cup of takeout coffee in your hand that serves as a relic of you being able to escape from the hellhole that Spencer was inherently trapped in.
“It’s nothing, i’m alright,” He presses his lips into that awkward smile of his, but it lacks any of the genuity that it’s usually accompanied by, merely a shell of a smile that Spencer knows you’re not buying.
A quirk of your eyebrow is the only push needed for his façade to break immediately.
“It’s just—” Spencer exhales heavily through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth in a will for him to keep himself together. “I’m just frustrated.”
You gesture with your head for him to continue, and it’s like you’ve blown a hole in a dam with how fast everything comes tumbling out.
“Officer Harrison keeps interrupting the investigation and talking about absolute nonsense under the guise of it being objective fact and I’ve spent so long correcting him that I haven’t actually managed to do anything,” He gets it all out in a single breath, and it’s honestly quite impressive to watch until he’s caught at the end with barely any air left in his lungs and has to take a moment to catch it up.
“I just wish he would leave me alone,”
You haven’t met Officer Harrison, too busy with the coroner and taking interviews, but if you had to make an educated guess you’d say Spencer’s apparent frustration was well founded.
He wasn’t one to exaggerate things.
“Tell him to then,” You shrug out your answer like it’s easy, leaning your lower back against the table to sip at your coffee.
“I’m not like you,” Spencer sighs exasperatedly, his shoulders in a slump alongside his mind. “I can’t just— scare people off,”
You give a small quirk of your eyebrow at his assessment of your personality, and Spencer can see the small traces of amusement in the corners of your mouth. “You have the authority Reid, you outrank him tenfold,”
“I know, I just—” Spencer shrugs, defeated. “I don’t know, I just can’t,” He uncaps his marker to return to the barren whiteboard to try and actually get some decent headway on the profile with a solemn expression, submitting himself to the inevitability of having to do two jobs at once.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Your offer sounds almost like an assassination proposal, monotonous and almost too serious.
“No,” Spencer shakes his head lightly. “No it’s alright, it’s not your problem, I’ll be okay,”
“You’e sure?”
“Yeah,” He gives you a small nod over his shoulder, lips pressed into a line as a grateful but dismissive smile. “Thanks anyway,”
You push yourself from the table with a sigh, joining Spencer at his side to pull the marker from his hand.
“Wh—“
“Go make yourself a coffee Reid.” You cap the marker with a knowing tilt of your head, putting it away in your back pocket so he can’t try and take it back from you. “You need to take five and calm down, you aren’t going to get anything done like this,”
You can see the want to turn your idea down, to say that he’s fine and not affected by the officer in his expression, but you both know it’s not something to be acted on, and so gives you a small nod with an exasperated exhale as he drags himself out of the meeting room to do as you’d asked.
He’s grateful for it really, the warm ceramic under his hands serving as a grounding point and sickly sweetness of the drink as it reaches his taste-buds a welcome distraction from the rampant frustration inhabiting his prefrontal cortex, but that small voice in the back of his head continues to torment him about the inevitability of having to deal with the officer again and all of th
He knows he should at least try to let it go over his head. If he stepped back into the meeting room like he was you probably wouldn’t even let him get one foot in the door before sending him on a longer break, but he didn’t want a break, he wanted to work, to crack this profile open and actually make some real headway.
He just needed to take a second to breathe.
When he does return to the meeting room, you’re not alone anymore, and Spencer can practically feel the amount of will power you’re using to keep your mouth shut as Officer Harrison rambles on about something he’s not quite close enough to hear yet.
“…very unlikely for that to actually happen,” The officer points to a section of scrawl you’d added to the whiteboard after Spencer’s departure, something about brief episodes of mania as a possible reason behind the unsub’s violent attacks.
“That’s not actually true, it’s been disproved dozens of times over,” You shake off his attempt at over-explaining your own theory to you with a full tone and a shake of your head, a clear indication for him to leave you alone.
He doesn’t of course, and Spencer swears he sees your eye twitch as Officer Harrison continues to talk aimlessly.
“I’m just saying, there’s research to support the idea that serial killers make their crimes more gruesome than they need to post-mortem so they can plead insanity in court if they’re caught,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, and you quirk your eyebrow at his explanation.
“And where did you get that information from?”
“A doctorate thesis paper from Stanford,” Officer Harrison crosses his arms like he’s secured a victory over you in knowing something that an expert doesn’t. “You’ve probably never read it, it was an investigation into the differences between legal and clinical insanity, and it concluded that serial murderers over gruesomise their kills to plead legal insanity in court despite being completely sound of mind,” He points back at your scribbling with his index finger, knocking his knuckle against the board. “So this theory isn’t worth looking into sweetheart, trust me,”
The use of the placeholder ‘pet’ name makes your eyebrows furrow until there’s a prominent frown line between them. “I have read that paper, for your information,” You spin the whiteboard marker between the fingers of your left hand, likely a way to expel some of the tension in your muscles as you grow increasingly frustrated with the man.
“You don’t have to lie sweetheart, it’s alright, no one’s expecting you to have read an 85,000 word paper from almost a decade ago, I just like to educate myself in my free time,” He shrugs with a nonchalant expression, but there are traces of what’s almost condescendion in his tone and Spencer decides it’s time to stop this little debate before Officer Harrison ends up with a broken nose and you end up getting a very long talk from Hotch.
“She wrote it,” Spencer presses his lips into a tight line as he walks around the table to join you at the whiteboard.
“Excuse me?” The officer blinks at Spencer blankly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and a slight amount of irritation at Spencer’s intrusion.
“The thesis paper you’re talking about? She was the one who wrote it,” He nods his head in your direction, and he can physically see the way the officer’s air of intellectual superiority drains from his face.
“And I’m not actually convinced that you’ve read the whole thing yourself, everything you mentioned was part of the paper’s abstract, which at an average reading speed of 238 words per minute, should have only taken you a minute and 24 seconds to read, rather than the 5 hours and 54 minutes to read the whole thing,” Spencer feels a little guilty for how good the drop in Officer Harrison’s face makes him feel, but it’s easily overrun by inherent relief at getting the frustration off his chest.
“Can you name anything important from that paper apart from what you just mentioned? Anything at all?” The frustration underlying Spencer’s tone was obvious, and it was almost gratifying for you to watch him take a stand in his own beliefs for once.
There’s a few moments where he pauses, giving Officer Harrison the very slim opportunity to redeem himself and prove he had actually read through the whole document.
Neither of you needed to watch him try and stumble through his answer to know that he didn’t.
“Maybe if you had read it you’d know that the ‘fact’ you just mentioned, was proportional to the percentage of serial murderers that weren’t diagnosed with any mental illness prior to their arrest, which was only 63% of the total sample that was analysed. 114 of the murderers were actually diagnosed with some form of clinical psychosis, which is still entirely probable for the unsub that we’re looking for,” There’s a lingering trace of snark dousing Spencer’s tone, joined by an elevated sense of conviction as he narrows his eyes towards Officer Harrison. “Or maybe you’d at least remember that it was actually 97,502 words long, not 85,000,”
The fact that Spencer recalled such specific details of your thesis shouldn’t be a shock to you, his eidetic memory was practically a staple of his character after all, but considering you weren’t even aware he’d read it in the first place until five minutes ago made that revelation hit you just a little harder than it probably should.
“If you want to act like an expert in something, become an expert in something,” Spencer crosses his arms and it may as well have been a done deal. “Don’t pass off surface level, incorrect information as objective fact, all you’re doing is slowing the real experts down,”
The assertiveness in his tone, whilst occasionally used when arguing his point for a specific topic, was much more present as he shut down the Officer, and it was almost a little too gratifying to watch the wind get knocked out of his sails at Spencer’s reprimand.
“Now if you’d please excuse us, we have a profile to work on,” He gestures to the whiteboard with his head, and Officer Harrison is off like a whippet, retreating out of the room with his tail between his legs and a traffic light red coating his face from the embarrassment.
You give a dragged out whistle as the door closes. “Congratulations on telling him to leave you alone,”
Spencer laughs almost pathetically. Was he really so socially inept that he had to be congratulated on standing up for himself?
“Thanks,” He presses his lips into that typical Spencer smile as he fiddles aimlessly with the button on the cuff of his right sleeve. “And uh, thanks for letting me handle it on my own,”
You shrug nonchalantly. “You asked me to,”
“I know, I just— thank you,”
“It’s nothing to thank me for Reid,” You shake your head dismissively, but Spencer knows you’ve accepted his thanks through the slight quirk in the corners of your mouth that break the ever-present scowl that cements itself on your face. “I didn’t know you read my thesis,”
Spencer blinks for a moment before giving you a small and enthusiastic nod. “Three times actually, it’s extremely well written from a logical perspective, and the transcripts from the interviews you held were very interesting,”
And there’s the Spencer you knew.
“You’re an incredible psychologist, it’s no wonder you skipped your bachelors,” He emphasises his words with exaggerated head movements that make the curls of his hair bounce against his forehead.
“Thank you, Reid, that’s very sweet,” There’s a fondness to your voice that you’d deny if he pointed out, but you’re trying much less to hide it from Spencer than you would from anyone else in your team.
Spencer Reid had read your thesis three times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it better than you did. You’re almost certain he knew it better than you did. He could probably recite the whole thing word for word where chunks of it had already been forgotten in your mind.
It wasn’t exactly something revolutionary, but it may as well have been.
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bratbby333 · 3 days
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your beauty never scared me ˚➶ 。˚ ☁️ suguru geto
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!
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Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…
...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.
It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…
...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.
The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 
She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 
There’s something peaceful about loneliness…
…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 
God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 
Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?
“You just haven’t found the right one!” 
“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”
“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 
Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 
The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…
…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 
Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…
…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 
So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?
Part of you feels guilty…
…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.
A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…
…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.
Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.
Sitting before you is the woman you love…
…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 
But in this moment…
…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 
You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 
Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 
But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?
You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…
…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?
Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 
It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?
You would accept her…
…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.
You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 
.。*゚+.*.。
It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.
.。*゚+.*.。
Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 
Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.
Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 
Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 
Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 
But so what? That's what friends are for. 
.。*゚+.*.。
You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 
Fuck.
It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 
You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 
You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.
Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 
God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 
What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 
Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 
If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 
.。*゚+.*.。
All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 
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You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 
I'm not going through this again. I refuse.
You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.
The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 
Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.
.。*゚+.*.。
It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.
“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 
Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 
After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.
“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.
Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 
Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”
“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 
“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.
You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 
.。*゚+.*.。
You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 
He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.
Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.
He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.
The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.
“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 
Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.
He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 
“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.
“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.
Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.
“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.
He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 
He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”
And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 
Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.
Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 
“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 
He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 
“Me neither.”
In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.
Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
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author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh
my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!
alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼
tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke
likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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374 notes · View notes
fumifooms · 21 hours
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I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after
The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually
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Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-
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He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.
And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he gets across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt and be on your guard and shit and.
When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings
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"Man they really know what you hate huh". Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.
It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmares, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)
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"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species
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silent-stories · 1 day
Text
Eddie lives with the fear but also with the certainty that sooner or later you will decide to leave him.
He knows that one day you'll start to see him the way everyone else sees him, that you'll realize that you were wrong about him, that in the end, he really was a loser impossible to love.
It's what almost every important person in his life did, and when he realized that, after so many times, maybe he was the problem, he lost hope of finding someone who wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.
Precisely for this reason every moment, every small action, every detail is so important to him and scares him at the same time.
Because he knows that one day you won't be there next to him in the morning to gently move the curls from his face and cook pancakes making a mess in the trailer kitchen.
He knows that you will stop waiting for him in the school hallway between lessons for a kiss and you will no longer be in his room every afternoon with a cigarette between your lips sitting on the floor in front of him, holding the guitar in his hands.
He knows you won't be at the Hideout to see his band play anymore and he won't be able to make those stupid jokes about groupies and what you guys will do in the backstage anymore. He knows you won't be there to hold his hand when he wants to bring his mother flowers and the cemetery will seem even more depressing without you by his side.
He knows he'll miss falling asleep reading a book while you lie with your head on his chest and waking up with his arms around your body, holding you close. He knows you will no longer play with his fingers during that boring math class, slipping rings off his fingers and trying them on yours every time.
He knows that one day the trailer will seem so empty without your laughter to fill the silence.
"Can I tell you something?" You ask sitting cross-legged on his bed, turning a small bottle of freshly applied black nail polish on Eddie's nails in your hands.
This is the moment you admit that you don't want to see him anymore, that you're breaking up with him. Eddie knows it.
He would like to say no. He wants to say he doesn't want to hear what you're about to say, but he knows he can't.
"All that you want."
"I think I'm in love with you."
Eddie's heart for a beat. Maybe more than one. He tries to hide the smile on his lips, he can't find a way to do it and thinks the only way is to kiss you.
Maybe he was wrong. He had been wrong all along and you were not leaving him anytime soon.
When he kisses you you don't care that his nails are still freshly polished and will leave stains on your skin and you don't even care when his teeth collide with yours because he can't stop smiling.
The kiss was your answer, he didn't need to say he was in love with you too.
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