#that’s how he gets away with a lot lmao

[simpjaes]

BOOK SMART? P*SSY SMART. — P.JS

The one where Jay basically lives in the university library and you live in any and every party you can find on campus. Unfortunately, your grades are suffering over it and you need help. You’re quite lucky though because Jay is quite helpful. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― inexperienced loser jay x afab reader

CONTENT―  Jay wears glasses even tho the banner says otherwise lol, he’s also a loser ass dweeb in this, open minded and playful reader, college au, jay just rly wants to get in that but doesn't know how to

NOTE― this is a revamp, surprise surprise, nobody is shocked. was originally written for mark lee over on my other blog @/ncteez but i need jay like i need air so….cackling at the title tho, my brain is malfunctioning pls forgive me

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: MONSTER COCK AGENDA. Jay is a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating,  reader is very vocal and talkative, slight use of the pet name “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, Jay has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced Jay, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f recieving), Jay gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends were failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying just as often as you do. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.

         Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you, apparently. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.

         It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies. 

         Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multitask like everyone else.

         That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.

         Studying. Ugh.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         You don’t know Jay past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’ve blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you. 

         That’s the only reason Jay comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Jay’s name on that list more times than you care to remember. 

         Jay knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to be early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library and nearly gave him a heart attack, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before. 

         You are everything that Jay isn’t. You are everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you doesn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. Never towards him though, he’s usually just on the outside looking in. 

         Jay has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today is no different from any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops. 

         You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the library in search of Jay. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. You need Jay now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him in order for him to even consider your offer too.  

God, you hate begging.

The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying? 

Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by nearly, you actually do  walk directly into him. 

Books clatter to the floor, Jay sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where they’re fucking going.

“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up the mess, he still doesn’t look at you though. Honestly, he barely even notices you there with those airpods in his ears and eyes on the floor. 

To be fair, most people who walk into him just continue walking, so…

         When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space. 

         In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good students. Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Jay unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out. 

         You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you have followed him. Jay is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.

“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.” 

“Me?” Jay questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, what? 

 “Why?”

“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.

“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”

“That’s not weird.” Jay mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.

“Wait! Just, please–hear me out.” You plead now, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.

         He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.

“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you are my last resort, I swear.” You say, begging with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, one day a week?”

         His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch. 

“An hour a week?” You adjust clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Jay, please. I need to get my grades up.” 

“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” He rolls his eyes, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. Of course he only gets approached when someone needs something from him. 

 “How many classes are you failing?”

“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another–” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”

         Jay eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh. 

“Finals are barely a month away.”

“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up by a letter but– I,” You look down, more ashamed than before.

“You don’t know how to actually do the extra credit, do you?” Jay finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod. 

         He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He’s noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you.

 He always has been, but that’s not the fucking point. 

“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t exactly the quietest person–” He goes to explain. 

“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer. 

         Jay is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because, like? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food? 

“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” He follows up with a nonchalant nod, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard. 

“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”

“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Jay finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile. 

“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain. 

         Jay thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult. 

“Here–” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.”

 You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.

         He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to. 

“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask in his silence, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”

         He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches intently at the way you have a little bounce in your step and can’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. God, why is he doing this to himself? 

         Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling now. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly. 

If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Jay’s head most of the time. Mostly to prepare yourself for if and when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wants to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place, anyway.

         He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up though. Like you, he was assuming the same thing. You’d make a fucking break for it and pretend you never approached him in the first place. After all, It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead though, he finds himself proud of you. You stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room emptied out, clearly unsure of what to do or say to him.

         Jay nods your way as if to beckon you towards him. 

“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise. 

All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumps a bit noticing you looking at him like this. 

“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge, by the way.”

         Jay nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all…cozy and at home in your apartment. Like, he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known. 

         It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men no less. The ones with families that own the city, and all the houses in it.

You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Jay to be doing this right now.

“Okay, so...” Jay drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–we are going to your place right?”

He needs the confirmation himself if he’s being honest. Nothing would suck more than assuming and being proved wrong.

         You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He never holds hands.

 He’s never really gotten the chance to anyway, aside from a little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building. 

         You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Jay forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting touched against a dirty bathroom counter. 

         He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't. 

“Just around that corner–” You say,  glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You good?” 

         Jay nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct. 

“Ah, sorry.” You mumble, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Jay can’t be as boring as he seems, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”

“I’m not hungry, but If I can have some water or something, that would be cool.” Jay cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task. 

“Okay–” You side eye his mess with a slight smile. “Water, got it.”

 You trail off to get him the drink, keeping a small mental note of how nervous he appears to be right now. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before. 

“Jay, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh with water in hand, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it.

“Thanks.” He says now, reaching out for the drink.

         Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart guy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.

“Is this good?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”

“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Jay blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down before even thinking about sitting down to fucking study. 

   You point to the bathroom quickly, making your way to the table and adjusting everything so there is space for the piles of books soon to be laid on it. You watch only a little bit at how Jay makes his way over to said bathroom in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly. 

         You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         Jay stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone is a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself. 

         He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.

         Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander. 

         Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush hanging against the wall. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.

         He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter, nor any laundry detergent he’s aware of. Then…his eyes flick to the actual hand towel that he somehow missed, right beside it? A lace bra. The flush comes back to his face, making him feel even warmer than he did when he entered the room. Which feels like a fucking nightmare if he’s being totally honest. 

         It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has now is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in here doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body. 

         Mumbling to himself, Jay prepares himself to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Jay has never been the best at playing pretend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers. 

“Are you okay? You sure you don’t want a snack or something?” You look at him, head tilting at him in concern. 

Jay finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him. 

He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed. Yeah, maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Jay is around women. 

“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.

“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You offer, reaching toward his hand. 

He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pencil, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold and shaky.

Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him. 

“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to reach your face. Score one for you, Jay is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women. 

“W-what?” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his face immediately flushed. 

“The snacks? Savory or sweet?” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.

He does stand to follow, but by the time you round the corner, he isn’t behind you like you figured he would be. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion. 

By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?

“Took you long enough.” You joke as he appears in the kitchen, turning to look at him and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times. 

Jay, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now? 

“Sorry–” He looks down. “I– uh, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact. 

“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “I want something sweet. Sounds good?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm. 

He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard. 

“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”

Jay just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry enough. Choking right now would be even more humiliating. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing too, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner. 

But, popsicles? Hell no.

“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.

Of course, it’s  intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.

Jay looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle despite his very recent internal protest. Mostly so you don’t think he’s a pervert when he inevitably sees you eat it. But also, like, just in case you really are trying to flirt with him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet too. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You had expected Jay to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Jay’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?

A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position in his waistband. 

Jay is hyper-aware now too, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, like? Are you doing what he was actively avoiding doing to you? Jesus, you really are kind of a whore, god.

By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table. 

“So–” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”

Jay hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table, pretending he doesn’t wish your tongue would lick him like that.

“I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–” 

“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him. 

“I would’ve never guessed either–” Jay says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?” 

Jay tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.

“You’re kind of out of my league, don’t you think?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.

“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand on your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.

You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.” 

Jay notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you. 

In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words. 

“If anything, Jongie–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.” 

He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth enveloping the entirety of his hand and wrist. 

“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but hot too?”

He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–

“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.

Jay watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.

His palm is against your literal, dampening panties, and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.” 

You smile at his attempt to continue to study through this moment.

“I could,” You say with a deeper voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”

Jay groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now. 

“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear. 

“You’re warm.” Jay chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your legs slightly spread in front of him. 

You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all. 

“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and roll your eyes back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you look at him.

He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you. 

His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no, no. He’s far too sweet like this, but you want to hear words.

Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers. 

Jay watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he can relish the experience.

He no longer cares how awkward he must seem sitting here like this, letting you do all the work.

“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers. 

“Mhm–” Jay groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Jay will make when he opens his eyes. 

“You can taste more, if you want.” You offer, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt. 

He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but–he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your glistening pussy.

You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Jay does know what he’s doing. 

He instantly jumps into action, loving the feeling of your hand in his hair basically telling him to do it. Giving him that green light, letting him.

You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of you. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your cunt against his working tongue more.

Guiding him by his hair still, you press his face harshly into you with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out for himself.

He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Jay doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway. 

You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you. You wonder what’s going through his mind right now, because goddamn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him. 

For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Jay in? It turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Jay doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it,  and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before. 

You feel so deeply needed at this moment by Jay that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.

With each moan, Jay picks up his pace, using those same two fingers and spreading your cunt out impossibly wider just so he can attempt to bury his tongue deeper into the messy, wet heat you offer. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner. 

Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you open, up and down, as if he were born and trained for you and you alone? Insane.

“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you. 

It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going. You hate it when you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again. 

“How–?” You look down at him in pleasant surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?” 

Jay is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s only ever eaten a girl out once and like, it wasn’t that great because she made him stop within like a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do with you though, or how to do it. He just…did it. That’s all. So obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He’d still be licking you right now if you didn’t move away. 

“I–don’t know.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him. 

“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t practiced doing this.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man exists. 

He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Jay knows how to have fun.

Your gaze on him makes him feel more bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this. 

Using your leg, you nudge him.

“You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.

Frantic at your tone of voice, Jay stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Jay, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a size that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half? Well, fuck.

“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Jay, really.” You get a bit flustered yourself because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains. 

In all of his shyness, Jay hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. Meaning, your throat is too dry right now to start drooling. 

Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way  would you let this go to waste.

“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask now, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist. 

Jay stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself to him. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.

“I–um– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex two times.”

“Aw–” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”

All he does is nod, because yes, he does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Jay could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this though. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is again. He wants to hear you moan over how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this. 

You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and to be fair, your body yearns to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.

“Wanna fuck me, Jongie?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him this rather than his full name because he seems to lean directly into it. 

“God,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making eye contact with you through pleading eyes.

You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks are rosy, and his lips are glistening. You lick against them, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex twice. 

Maybe he’s a natural? 

Jay knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table. 

He slips his cock so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your tits too, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. He’s in his own world, barely recognizing that he’s not the only one experiencing this right now.

With an eager hand, Jay grabs his cock and presses it directly into you without waiting any longer. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how desperate he is solely because of the way he can’t seem to fathom taking it slow. He doesn’t let you adjust, no. The second the head of that thick cock slips in he’s slamming in. All the way, forcing a yelp from your throat and a tight grip to his back.

He’s lost himself in the moment and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.

The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place, if just to let him genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around him.

“You feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body. 

He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Jay. He’s Jay. This is Jay.

You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your hole quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. As if you can handle yourself right now, as if he can too.

Neither of you can comprehend the pleasure.

“Can’t believe I get to be your third.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so–”

“S-stop talking, fuck-” Jay calls out in a broken and choked gasp, feeling too turned on by the way you speak. He can’t help it when he forces his hips to move against the pressure of your leg trying to keep him in place. This time he fucks at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes. 

He watches the way your sticky cunt coats him as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you. 

You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has. 

A mess of moans and groans is filling the room as Jay chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “girls would die to be fucked by you,” turn to screams of, “yeah, fuck Jongie, just like that!” 

It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Cum with me, now, Jongie, I can’t hold it–” when Jay ’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing impossibly hard against you. To the point that you scoot up on the table. “Stop, I’m–” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he can release against your pulsing and empty pussy.

But you don’t let him.

Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table. 

“Cum in me.” You nearly demand, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.

You watch the way his pupils dilate more at the words and you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Then? His pupils are gone. He’s rolling his eyes back now, looking so fucking beautiful while doing it.

Jay’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he cums. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. His breath is caught in his throat with each twitch, shooting ropes into you so deeply that you feel each wave of his pleasure hitting your cervix. 

  You’re very quick to rub your clit again, harsh and rough circles being amplified by the way his abdomen adds pressure to your hand with each push of his cock in you. It sends you over edge so fast, even he feels the clench, choking out each spurt of his remaining orgasm. 

You grab onto him harshly now, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm, anyway.

Crazy thing is…he’s not done. Like, he can’t stop cumming. Lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Jay opens his eyes to look at you when you’re reaching the end of your own orgasm, all while he’s still filling you up, and even feeling his load bubble out from around him with each tight thrust. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go. 

Upon his ears popping and finally emptied, he genuinely feels the mess between the two of you. Quickly, he pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.

“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.” Your eyes sparkle at the large damp spot, nearly making his shirt entirely see-through from just how soaked it really is. 

Jay steps out of his pants silently and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face. 

“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I– I couldn’t pull out…I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “It’s fine, I’m protected” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So–” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?” 

Jay tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.” 

“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked right now and you’re making me do this right now?” 

“Finish your paper and we can talk about that. Besides, I kind of need to recover for more than thirty minutes from that, you know? I’m sensitive.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound as embarrassing as he truly is now. 

To his surprise, you nod with a cheeky smirk. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work for now at least. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Jay deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.

You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Jay may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts. 

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[sanakimohara]

How does he do this? He's INSANE

I’m in the same realm of confusion as you are lmao. Anytime Chris puts on fur, blood, and scars my Omergaverse senses start tingling and I have to sedate myself to keep from writing an ABO fic about him.

Like no one can convince me this man wouldn’t be some high ranking alpha who’s secret craving is just breeding the fuck out of his mate simply because their scent is his personal version of drugs.

Like he literally wouldn’t be able to get enough and genuinely would start to lose his mind if he hasn’t fucked them in a couple of days.

You can’t possibly believe that Chris as an alpha wouldn’t prowl his mate down. I know a lot of fics pose the alphas as purely predatory and aggressive at first but I imagine Chris to be more of a “come on little one…n’ going to hurt you I promise…”type. He’ll chase only when provoked but is a master at luring people in.

Please please please hear me out!!

He’d be the most vulnerable to heat seasons. I mean to the point he’s always hard, always sniffing out your smell from miles away, and always feigning to put a knot in you again and again and again.

Like, yes he’s an alpha-a highly capable one at that- but he’d be utterly pathetic when it comes down to satisfying his mate in any way, shape, or form.

Oh, and yes, he is most DEFINITELY out of his fucking mind for doing this…

[jules-ln]

People should talk more about how Patroclus was unhinged

No, I don't mean rude, I mean he's crazy lmao

For example, he had 9 dogs, have you meet someone with 9 dogs? I have, and they're lovely people, very kind, but they're definitely not "normal" (I know that Achilles's tent smelled like dog)

Plus the fact that he was joking after killing someone, I know some people interpret this as him being rude or whatever, but no. Taunting your enemy after their death was very common in the iliad, but generally is a lot more meaner. Compare Patroclus's joke to what Agamemnon was doing, dismembering the bodies after he killed them, why? Idk he just wanted to be a jerk I guess?

So, Patroclus was out there, making jokes in the middle of the battlefield as if someone was listening. He was doing the marvel thing before marvel even existed lol

And then the fact that he tried climbing the wall of Troy, like??? Why??? No seriously whyy??? Lmao

First of all, where were the archers? A dude trying to climb a wall alone is a great target. Second, what was Patroclus's plan? Just climb; get in, then??? Like there were people inside Troy, and I know that Patroclus was an excellent warrior, but he couldn't take Troy alone, no; maybe it would've been a massacre of trojans, but at some point numbers outweighs strength and skill.

Or was he trying to get to Helen? Helen wouldn't have gone with him peacefully lmao

So really, not only was a bad crazy idea, he kept trying to do it after Apollo threw him off the wall three times 😅

If I had been him I would've gotten up after the first time I fell and walked away checking if somebody saw me lmao

So I have the theory that Patroclus only seems normal because he was with Achilles, so in comparison he's pretty calm lol

[arcticwolf144]

A list of some things I noticed during the last matinee of Next to Normal UK

Diana pointed and yelled something from upstairs just before Natalie started singing for the first time. Like “wahey” sort of energy

She also absolutely bellowed “dive in with both feet” an inch from Dan’s face 

Diana was very insistent that Dan not touch her sandwiches. Kept waving him off

While Natalie was singing Everything Else Diana was peeling the crust off bread slices in time with the beat. I’ve never noticed that before so idk if it was a last day thing or if I’ve just missed it until now but it was very funny. 

Natalie looked like she was tearing up in Perfect for You. She was so happy and it was so cute 

Dan juggled three pieces of garlic bread during It’s Gonna Be Good lmao 

Natalie was so distressed during It’s Gonna Be Good. Like going “please get down!” when Diana climbed on the chair and flinching away from the water. She also mouthed “I’m so sorry” to Henry while everyone else was setting the table

I could hear her sobbing as she ran upstairs

Diana was mouthing “fuck off” to herself a lot while Dan was singing I Am the One.

When Diana started yelling Natalie covered her ears and she was sobbing so hard like the hardest I’ve ever seen someone cry on stage oh my god 

Gabe laughed when Natalie came down the stairs in Superboy 

Diana kept mouthing “shut up, shut the fuck up” when Gabe and Natalie started singing together

A lot of tears during Catch Me I’m Falling

Gabe was so horrified when he saw the blood during I’ve Been. Like he came on, knelt down on the stage and was just staring at the floor, at one point with his nose like inches from the stage. I’ve seen various interpretations but to me it always seems like he can’t quite understand what’s happened or how it’s got there. He knows he told Diana to join him but didn’t realise how violent that would be? Idk. But anyway then he curled against the counter crying and combine that with Jamie’s unbelievable acting through song and it was a hard watch

During the first verse of Wish I Were Here Natalie kept reaching for Diana

I think there was a muck up matinee prank happening in the wings on (the audience’s) left. As the island was spinning Trevor, Jack and Jamie seemed to notice something and were trying not to laugh. Like they’d look into the wings, smile a bit, and then they’d look at each other and then really quickly look away. This happened for the whole song every time the stage rotated. Caissie also seemed to do the tiniest double take when she faced that side of the stage.

Jack didn’t leave the stage after Aftershocks he was standing in the farthest box. So you could see Gabe’s silhouette in the far corner while the next scenes were happening which was quite powerful. 

Diana literally went “what the fuck?” when Dr Madden sent her away after telling her about Gabe 

Diana fully gasped as she put the music box down and the intro to How Could I Ever Forget started. 

When Diana moved away from Gabe during I’m Alive (Reprise) she had her hands over her heart and she was crying and just kept mouthing “my baby”. It was heartbreaking. Then the realisation hit her of what it meant and she got scared and ran off.

Gabe started crying even before Diana looked at him during The Break. He went from exhilaration during the first verse to suddenly getting scared when Diana came in with “they tried a million meds…”. For the rest of the song he was trying to get her attention, crawling up and down the counter in tears. Then when she touched him he completely broke down and was clinging onto her and crying so hard. 

He was also crying when he came out from behind the counter

Natalie sobbed out “stop” when Diana kissed her head in Maybe 

I Am the One (Reprise) may deserve its own post but anyway: Gabe was crying from his first lines (Jack was subtly wiping their face on their sleeve between phrases). He absolutely latched onto Dan, and Dan was sob-shouting his lines while Gabe was absolutely screaming his. When Dan pulled away Gabe tried so hard to catch hold of him again so they had this little tussle mid song during the “yeah”s. Dan then backed away, Gabe leaned fully over the side of the counter reaching for him and tried to belt out “I am the one who loved you” with all his soul but his voice broke so badly basically no sound came out until “loved you”. The same happened with the “tried” on the next line. It was absolutely beautiful and so heartbreaking. He then managed to get out the “you’ve always known who I am”, did this massive sobbing gasp afterwards and was just staring at Dan with tears running down his face. “Hi Dad” was so small and cracky it shattered my heart. Dan then slowly walked towards Gabe with his hand outstretched but stopped just before he reached him, and Gabe raised his hand too so their fingers almost touched and that’s when Natalie came in. Gabe then broke down audibly sobbing

Dan started to break when Gabe touched Natalie’s hand but Gabe then stopped at the bottom of the stairs to cry and Dan started absolutely gasping and sobbing and it was so sad. Like he was watching Gabe leave him for a second time and it destroyed him.

Diana was watching Nat and Henry interact in Light which was a lovely moment. She did a kind of “well fair enough” smile when Henry asked if her parents were real 

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

dumping more of my stancest feels here because i cannot NOT think of them. i read journal 3 for the first time this week and its great because Ford acts like stanley's biggest hater which is pretty fking funny (if not absolutely infuriating at times because omfg stfu you smug prick)

but the moments like this get to me

Ford being blinded by his quest of grandeur, accolades and praise for world changing discoveries, so obsessed with greatness, being the first name people remember, and all the other things his npd-isms tells him he wants.

And then there's "reminds me of camping with my brother. i wonder what he's up to..."

i mentioned in my previous post that stan acts quite a lot like the anchor to ford's boat, keeping him grounded and most importantly, safe from both the bitter and the sweet kinds of evils. but he also represents something so much simpler to ford too: the simple desires he represses so much because its not "good enough" for someone special like him.

he resents stan so much because he represents a "block" against that percieved good enough success he wants, the obstacle that made it impossible to get in a fancy college, become the world renowed researcher, the one who wanted to destroy his journal's and lifes work (even though it was the better, safer option if Bill really WAS that dangerous, which he was) that could still make him famous. because if ford's not "praised and weird" then he's just "weird" and being "weird" was nothing but a pain his whole life that kept him rejected and isolated from the masses. and stan prevented him from that.

(btw "maybe he can prove himself to me" is nasty work my god ford is a douche lmao)

a lot of his projections of something greater comes through with how he treated dipper in the show (his whole spiel in damvtf) and fiddleford in journal 3 where he looks down on the happy life that fiddleford had with his wife and child and saying he was "wasting his talents" making computers. and like, we all know by the way he takes them on high stakes adventures they're not as prepared for compared to him (and end up causing more trouble than not by doing so), he's trying to fill a gaping hole left by someone else. we all know this obviously, we all know what we ship here, but what i came to appreciate the most about it is how much that gaping hole exists in the low stakes

everytime ford is thinking during the "down time" moments, his thoughts always drift back to his childhood, and one person who represents it.

childhood memories, making fun of stans favorite snack, scribbling out a design of the stan o war, whenever Ford lets his mind wander it expresses such an intense yearning for the past before he became obsessed with wanting something more. these are his most utmost and most unfiltered thoughts, which is why he scribles them away or and writes in code. and the fact that he directly says they are about NOT getting married, followed with "wondering what he's doing right now", painting the picture of what his most ideal idylic life is. wanting a return of something lost. wanting Stan back more than anything.

he finally accepts that his dream never really changed, just the same as stan's and so they saild off together for the rest of their days, in ford's own words (which ironically sounds like a marriage to me either way so tough shit ford)

[wannabehockeygf]

Good Graces | Conor Garland

"With your favorite athlete, Shoot his shot every night, Want you every second, Don't need other guys."

request: "I was thinking of a fluffy fic between him and a fem!team medic who he is good friends with because of how often he ends up getting hurt, putting himself in the middle of scrums and everything. I know that's kind of just a general premise, but I wanted to leave it up to you where you want to take it from there :)" summary: two times conor wanted to kiss you, and one time you kissed him.

word count: 5.3k

pairing: conor garland x fem!reader

warnings: blood & injury

notes:

hiiii welcome & thanks for requesting. hope I fulfilled your wishes!

i don't know much about garland but I love making players divas so I inserted that here lmao :3

keep requesting new & different players guys!! i love doing it.

You signed your contract for your job with one goal in mind–don’t fall for a hockey player.

Pretty easy, right? Especially since, as a team medic, you largely dealt with them all sweaty, bloody, and generally in a state of chaos. Not attractive at all. Definitely not. Yet here you are, hovering over him again.

Conor Garland, number 8 on the ice and, in your opinion, number one in "most likely to get into a fight over nothing." You fold your arms as he limps into the med room, wearing a ridiculous grin despite the cut above his eyebrow. “That bad, huh?” he teases, his voice holding that familiar playful edge. He’s pretending to wince as he climbs onto the exam table, like it’s a whole ordeal for him.

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for the gauze, your hands moving on autopilot. “You know, if you stopped fighting for five seconds, you might actually get through a game without needing stitches.”

He chuckles softly, but the sound is laced with something else. It’s subtle, but it’s there—a little too relaxed, too content, considering he just came off the ice. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You look up at him, raising an eyebrow, but the sight of him smiling, like he’s enjoying himself a little too much for someone who’s supposed to be injured, throws you off. He’s been doing this a lot lately, showing up with bruises and cuts that could’ve been avoided. You’d never say it out loud, but part of you suspects he’s getting into these scrums on purpose.

His eyes flicker to yours, just for a moment, before he quickly looks away, feigning a deep interest in the ceiling. “What?” you ask, crossing your arms again.

“Nothing,” he says, far too quickly.

Right. Sure.

You press the gauze to his eyebrow a little harder than necessary, and he winces, though you can’t tell if it’s real pain or exaggerated for your benefit. You narrow your eyes. “Stop squirming.”

He gives a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugs at your lips. There’s always this easy back-and-forth with him, like the two of you have fallen into some unspoken routine. You patch him up, and he finds new ways to annoy you, all with that same boyish grin on his face.

You finish dabbing at the cut, the soft pressure of the gauze soaking up the blood that’s already drying around the edges. As you work, the steady rhythm of your movements almost feels too comfortable, like this is the hundredth time you’ve patched him up—because, well, it probably is.

"Conor," you murmur, half to yourself, half in warning, as you reach for the antiseptic. His skin smells of sweat and ice, a mix that’s become weirdly familiar, like the scent of the rink itself but so uniquely him.

He tilts his head a little, trying to catch your eye, but you focus on the task at hand, avoiding the gaze you know is waiting for you. Your fingers brush against his temple, and for a split second, you swear you feel him tense up under your touch. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual casual grin.

“You gotta stop doing this,” you sigh, and it comes out softer than you intend. The antiseptic stings as you swipe it across the cut, and he flinches again, though not as much as he should.

“Doing what?” he asks, his voice low, almost playful. He’s watching you again, those brown eyes darkened by the fluorescent lights of the med room.

“This.” You gesture vaguely at his face, at the various bruises and cuts that seem to accumulate each time he steps onto the ice. “Getting into pointless fights. You think I don’t notice? You’re not even supposed to be a fighter, Conor. Half the time, you’re chirping at guys twice your size. Why?”

The silence between you stretches just long enough to make you uneasy. You feel the weight of his stare, the slight twitch of his mouth like he’s holding back from saying something.

He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something else behind the movement, something unspoken. “Part of the game, right?” he offers, too nonchalant, like he’s testing the waters.

You don’t buy it, not for a second. But what are you supposed to say? Call him out directly? Admit you’ve noticed the way he lingers around the med room a little longer than necessary, how his smile stretches wider every time he manages to make you roll your eyes? It feels too much, too real, to acknowledge the way your heart stutters just a little when you hear his name over the PA system.

You sigh again, grabbing the butterfly stitches and nudging his chin up with more force than necessary. His skin is warm, too warm for someone who just came off the ice, and you have to focus hard not to notice the way his jaw clenches under your fingers.

“You’re gonna end up with a permanent scar if you keep this up,” you say, and there’s a softness in your voice now, one you can’t quite hide. The words come out before you can stop them. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, and the quiet stretches on again, filled only by the sound of your breath and the subtle scratch of fabric as he shifts on the exam table. Then, his voice cuts through the stillness, quiet but sure.

“I don’t mind it,” he says, and it takes you a second to register what he’s talking about.

You blink, pulling back slightly to look at him. He’s still smiling, but there’s something different in his expression now, something that catches you off guard. “What?”

“The scars,” he says, shrugging again, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t mind them. Means I get to see you.”

Your heart does a ridiculous little flip at his words, and you curse it for betraying you so easily. You try to play it off with an eye roll, but you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “You could just... I don’t know, say hi like a normal person instead of getting into fights?”

He chuckles, but the sound is softer now, almost fond. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You press the final stitch into place, leaning back to assess your work. His face is still bruised, still battered, but somehow, he looks completely unbothered by it all. And the worst part? You can’t help but think he looks good like this, even with the mess of bruises and dried blood.

As you’re cleaning up, you feel his eyes on you again, watching with that same stupid grin, like this is all just some kind of game to him. But there’s something else in the way he’s sitting, the way he’s still lingering on the table long after you’ve finished patching him up.

“Are you just going to sit there?” you ask, pretending to be annoyed, though you know the act isn’t fooling anyone.

“Maybe.” He leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking far too comfortable for someone who was limping in here five minutes ago. “Depends. You gonna kick me out?”

You roll your eyes, but your chest tightens at the implication, your heart doing that traitorous little skip again. You turn around, crossing your arms, meeting his eyes this time. He’s sitting there, propped up on his elbows, looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters. And maybe that’s what’s been throwing you off lately—the way he looks at you. Like these moments mean something more to him than just routine check-ups and bandages.

“Conor,” you say, and this time, your voice has more weight to it, though you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re really thinking. Instead, you gesture toward the door, trying to salvage the situation with a teasing edge. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, still not moving. “Besides, where else would I go? The ice isn’t as fun as this.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, though it’s a losing battle. He’s always had this way of disarming you with a few words, like he knows exactly how to find that crack in your armor.

“Well, you can’t stay here,” you say, but there’s no real bite to your words, and you both know it.

He swings his legs off the table, wincing slightly—more from habit than pain, you suspect—and stands up, but he doesn’t head for the door. Instead, he lingers, too close now, and you find yourself staring at the small cut above his eyebrow, the one you just stitched up. Your fingers itch to brush it gently, to make sure you did it right, but you keep your hands firmly crossed in front of you.

“I think I’m fine now,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “Thanks, doc.”

The nickname always makes you smile, even when you don’t want it to. “You’re welcome,” you reply, but there’s a softness to your tone that wasn’t there a moment ago.

He takes a step closer, and the room suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker. For a second, neither of you says anything. His eyes search yours, like he’s trying to read something in your expression, something you’re not even sure you understand yourself. But whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t find it—at least, not yet.

“I’ll try not to get into too much trouble next game,” he says with a smirk, though there’s a warmth behind it, something genuine. “But, you know, no promises.”

You shake your head, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. “Of course not.”

He starts toward the door but pauses just before stepping out, his hand resting lightly on the frame. He turns back to you, his eyes softening in a way that makes your chest ache a little.

“Hey,” he says, and there’s no teasing in his voice this time, just something real. “Thanks for always looking out for me.”

You nod, swallowing the lump that suddenly forms in your throat. “Just… try to keep yourself in one piece, okay?”

He grins again, that easy, boyish grin that somehow makes you forget for a second that he’s a professional athlete, bruised and battered from a game most people would never survive. “I’ll do my best,” he promises, but there’s something in his tone that makes you think he’ll be back sooner rather than later.

Another game, another set of bruises.

You’re halfway through patching up another player when you feel it—his presence, the familiar, teasing energy he brings with him. Conor walks into the med room, limping just a little too dramatically to be real. He’s cradling his arm like it’s hanging by a thread, his expression an exaggerated picture of pain.

“Doc, I think this might be the one that does me in,” he says, his voice a mockery of seriousness. The guy you’re helping, one of the newer players, snorts in response, shaking his head as he slides off the table.

You shoot Conor a glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Garland.”

The younger player leaves, chuckling under his breath, and suddenly it’s just you and Conor again. You can feel the shift in the air, like it always does when it’s just the two of you. The playful banter, the teasing looks, that undercurrent of something unspoken hanging between you like a thin thread.

You turn around, and there he is, still putting on that ridiculous act. He’s cradling his arm as if it’s broken, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “Oh, I’m sure you’re in agony,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Conor leans against the table with a dramatic sigh, giving you a pained look, as if he’s the one who should be annoyed by all this. “It’s bad, doc. Might need surgery.”

“Surgery, huh?” you quip, folding your arms as you walk over to him. Your eyes roam over his jersey, scanning for any real signs of injury, but all you see is his usual scruffy, disheveled mid-game self. “I can’t really check if you’ve got something serious going on with all that gear.”

He raises an eyebrow, still in character. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, keeping your tone casual, but there’s a hint of something else in your voice now. You tap his arm gently, feigning impatience. “Take off your jersey if you’re so hurt.”

For a split second, the playful energy between you shifts. His teasing smirk falters, his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, and suddenly, Conor’s posture straightens. The banter evaporates, leaving only the echo of your words hanging in the air. His hands hover near the hem of his jersey, clearly caught off guard by your request.

He stares at you like you’ve just asked him to do something much more intimate than you intended, and it takes a moment before he recovers his composure. “Uh… right. Yeah. Okay.”

You watch as he hesitates, tugging at the fabric, trying to hide the way his fingers fumble with it. And for once, he’s flustered—really flustered. It’s not the usual Conor Garland confidence or playful bravado. His face is flushed, the pink creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, and you can’t help but find the sight... oddly endearing.

You shouldn’t be enjoying this, but you are.

He finally manages to pull the jersey over his head, tossing it aside without meeting your eyes, and you catch the briefest glimpse of the toned muscles under his shoulder and chest pads, the faint sheen of sweat from the game still clinging to his skin. You swallow hard, trying not to let your mind wander too far as you force yourself to stay professional.

You step closer, eyes focused on the faint bruise blooming across his ribs, though it’s clear he’s milking the situation. “This?” you ask, pressing your fingers gently against his side. “You came in here for this?”

You stare at the bruise, your fingers resting lightly against his skin. It’s small, nothing serious—a faint discoloration, more from the impact than anything worth worrying about. But you both know this isn’t about the bruise. It never is with Conor.

You don’t pull away, and neither does he. There’s a moment of quiet, the banter fading into the background, leaving just the two of you in this strange, charged silence. You can feel the warmth of his body under your fingertips, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The tension in the room shifts, thickening like a storm cloud.

“You really thought this was worth all that drama?” you murmur, your voice soft now, not teasing, just… there. You trace the edge of the bruise absently, the pads of your fingers barely brushing against his skin.

Conor swallows, and you catch the movement of his throat, the way his eyes flicker down to where your hand rests on him before darting back to your face. His voice is quieter when he responds, less of that exaggerated confidence he usually carries with him. “Well, I figured… might as well get some attention while I’m at it, right?”

You don’t miss the way he says attention, how it lingers between the two of you, a little too close to the truth. Your heart skips, your pulse quickening in a way you hope he doesn’t notice.

But he’s staring at you now, the teasing smile faded, his brown eyes more serious than you’ve ever seen them. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, but in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant. Like something is about to happen, something you’ve both been tiptoeing around for too long.

Your hand is still on his side, your fingers barely moving, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he’s watching you like he’s waiting for something. Maybe you are too. The room feels impossibly small, the space between you shrinking with each breath.

“I… probably shouldn’t have made you take off your jersey,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, a weak attempt to break the tension, to say something, anything, that might diffuse whatever’s building between you. But even as you say it, you don’t pull away.

He doesn’t either.

“Nah,” he replies softly, his voice lower now, the usual playfulness gone. “It’s fine.”

You’re not sure if he means the jersey or the way your fingers are still pressed against his ribs, or maybe both. Either way, the tension doesn’t break. It only tightens, drawing you both closer without either of you moving an inch.

You can feel your pulse in your throat, your breathing shallow, and for a split second, you let your gaze drop to his lips. It’s a brief, unconscious movement, but it’s enough. He notices.

Conor shifts, barely perceptibly, but you feel it—the subtle lean, the way his eyes flicker to your mouth. Your heart pounds, the room spinning around the two of you like everything else has fallen away. You’re not even sure how you ended up here, this close, this vulnerable, but the pull is undeniable.

Your hand slides down slightly, resting at his waist now, and his breath hitches. You feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body seems to react to your touch, and for a second, you think maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment you’ve both been avoiding for so long, the moment where everything changes.

His lips part, and your breath catches. You’re so close now, close enough to feel the heat of him, to see the soft curve of his mouth, to—

The door creaks open behind you, and the spell shatters.

You both freeze, the tension shattering as one of the assistant coaches pokes his head in. "Hey, Garland, you still in here?" The coach looks between the two of you, oblivious to what he just interrupted.

Conor jerks back so quickly it’s like he’s been caught doing something illegal, while your hand falls from him. His face flushes, but not from the game—this time, it’s from almost being caught in a moment he’s not ready to explain.

"Uh, yeah," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "Just, uh... icing my bruise."

You bite back a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your own cheeks. The moment is gone, but the weight of it lingers in the air.

"Well, hurry it up. Coach wants to talk to you before you head out," the assistant says, already halfway out the door.

You both stand there for a second after the door shuts, the silence deafening. Conor looks at you, the tension still simmering under the surface, but neither of you speaks. It’s like the almost-kiss is still hanging between you, unfinished and waiting.

Finally, Conor clears his throat. "Guess I should... go."

"Yeah," you say, forcing a smile. "Guess so."

He hesitates, lingering in the doorway for a second longer than necessary, his eyes catching yours one last time. And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with the weight of what almost happened.

You’ve been replaying what happened in your head, the way his eyes lingered, the warmth of his skin under your touch, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. It’s like a loop that you can’t quite break free from.

But now, that moment feels distant, swept away by the frenetic energy of another game night. Only this time, it’s different.

The door slams open.

You jump, turning on instinct, and what you see makes your heart plummet. Conor’s standing there, but he’s not limping theatrically this time. Blood runs down the side of his face, stark against his pale skin, dripping onto his jersey, which is streaked with snow and sweat. His eyes are wild, his chest heaving, and for the first time, there’s no playful glint, no teasing smirk. Just anger.

"Garland," you breathe, stepping toward him, already reaching for the gauze, but he doesn’t even seem to hear you. He’s pacing the length of the room like a caged animal, his jaw clenched so tightly you can see the muscles working beneath his skin.

"Stupid," he mutters under his breath, swiping a hand over his face, smearing the blood. "Stupid, stupid hit."

"Conor," you say softly, trying to get him to focus on you, to stop moving. He doesn’t. His eyes are unfocused, his movements erratic, as though he’s still stuck in the heat of the game, reliving whatever hit sent him flying into the boards.

You step closer, cautiously. "Hey, come on. You need to sit down. Let me look at that cut."

He finally stops pacing, but when his eyes meet yours, they’re blazing. "I don’t care about the damn cut," he snaps, though the anger in his voice isn’t directed at you. It’s frustration, bubbling just beneath the surface.

You swallow, trying to maintain your calm. "I know you don’t, but I do."

He blinks, his brows furrowing, like your words hit something in him, pulling him out of his angry haze. But then he shakes his head, as if he’s trying to brush it off. "They’re out to get me," he mutters, more to himself than to you, but you hear it.

Your chest tightens. You’ve seen him frustrated before, of course. Hockey’s a brutal game; it comes with the territory. But this… this feels different. Conor Garland is many things—annoying, playful, sometimes overly dramatic—but angry? Not like this. Not pacing the room with his hands curled into fists like he’s ready to punch the wall. You have to do something—anything—to bring him back to himself before he loses it completely.

"Conor, sit down," you say again, firmer this time. "Please."

Something in your voice must reach him because he stops, his shoulders slumping as if all the fight has gone out of him in an instant. He sits on the edge of the exam table, and you move quickly, grabbing the gauze and antiseptic. His eyes follow you, but they’re distant, like he’s not fully present.

You stand between his legs, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and gently tilt his head back to get a better look at the cut. It’s deep, angrier than you expected, but not the worst you’ve seen. Still, the blood has matted his hair, trailing down his temple, and his breathing is shallow, labored.

"This might sting," you murmur, pressing the gauze to his forehead, dabbing at the blood. You try to stay focused, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, his body coiled tight like he’s barely holding himself together. His hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles white.

"That guy…" he starts, voice low and bitter. "He didn’t have to hit me like that. It wasn’t even about the puck."

"I know," you say quietly, your fingers moving methodically as you clean the wound. "It’s not fair."

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You focus on your work, but every so often, your gaze flickers to his face, to the way his jaw is still clenched, to the way his chest still rises and falls with that uneven breath. You can feel the anger radiating off him, but there’s something else too—something vulnerable, hidden beneath all that frustration.

"Why are you letting this get to you?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conor doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is fixed on some distant point over your shoulder, like he’s trying to hold it together, trying not to snap. But then his shoulders sag, and he drops his head into his hands. "I don’t know," he admits, voice muffled. "I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much."

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling your heart ache for him. You’ve never seen him this rattled, this shaken. It’s unsettling, seeing him like this, and you don’t know what to do other than be here, right here, in this moment with him.

Gently, you reach out, resting a hand on his shoulder. His skin is warm, muscles tense beneath your fingers, but the contact seems to ground him. He lifts his head slowly, meeting your eyes for the first time since he walked in.

"It’s just… one hit," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper now. "But I can’t shake it."

"It’s not just the hit, is it?" you ask, watching him carefully.

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "No. It’s not."

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You finish bandaging his cut, your hands moving slowly, deliberately, trying to draw out the process because you’re not ready for this moment to end. You don’t want him to walk away like this, all pent-up frustration and unresolved tension.

He’s quiet now, his chest no longer heaving with anger, but his eyes—his eyes are still filled with something heavy, something you can’t quite place. He’s staring at you, and you can feel his gaze, warm and intent, as though he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. You’re not sure if you’re ready to hear them anyway. Your pulse thrums in your ears, loud and persistent, and for the first time, you realize how close you’re standing.

You clear your throat, suddenly aware of how his legs are framing your hips, how his knees brush your thighs every time either of you moves. His hands rest loosely on his lap now, no longer clenched into fists, but the tension hasn’t entirely dissipated. It’s just shifted into something else, something quieter but no less intense. You can feel it humming in the air between you.

"Conor," you begin, your voice coming out softer than you intended, barely more than a whisper. "You’re… it’s going to be okay." You know how inadequate the words sound, but you don’t know what else to say. You just want to fill the silence, to soothe whatever storm is still brewing inside him.

His eyes flicker, and his jaw works as though he’s chewing on something he can’t quite get out. "I’m not—" He stops himself, eyes dropping to the floor, and you watch as his shoulders slump again. "I don’t usually… I’m not like this."

You don’t respond immediately, just watch him, the way he avoids looking at you, the way his hands flex on his lap like he’s resisting the urge to reach for something. It’s strange seeing him so out of sorts, the guy who’s always cracking jokes, always looking for a way to make you laugh, now sitting here, raw and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache.

You take a breath and move closer, letting your fingers brush against his shoulder again. "You don’t have to explain anything to me. Everyone has bad days." Your voice is soft, reassuring, but your heart is pounding harder now, louder, as if it’s trying to force its way through your ribcage.

Conor looks up then, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze isn’t wild anymore, but there’s something else in it, something that makes your breath catch. His lips part, and for a second, you’re sure he’s going to say something, something that will change everything.

But he hesitates, his throat working like the words are caught there, and suddenly you’re all too aware of the closeness, of the heat between you, of how your bodies are aligned. You don’t move, don’t dare to, because if you do, you might shatter whatever fragile balance you’ve found.

"I don’t know how to say this," he finally mutters, his voice rough and low, almost pained. His eyes flick down to your lips, just for a second, and your breath stutters.

Your heart is racing now, louder than before, and you can feel the room tilting, your pulse in your throat as the tension pulls taut. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, the scent of sweat and blood mingling in the air between you, and you realize with a jolt that this is it. This is the moment where everything shifts, where the teasing, the faked injuries, the lingering touches, all of it finally snaps into focus.

Conor shifts again, his knee pressing slightly against your thigh, and his voice drops even lower. "I’ve been trying to tell you, but I—" He stops, his eyes dark and searching, like he’s looking for something in your face. "You’re more than just… I mean, I’m always…"

You don’t let him finish. Because before you know it, you’re moving, and you’re pressing your lips to his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both unsure. His lips are warm, and you can taste the faint tang of his blood on them, but you don’t care. For a moment, everything stills—no tension, no frustration, just him, here, with you. His hands, which had still been clenched on his lap, slide up to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. The anger, the frustration that had been radiating off him moments before, melts away, replaced by something softer, something unspoken but understood.

When you finally pull back, your breath comes in short, uneven bursts. You meet his eyes, half-expecting him to pull away, to say something to ruin the moment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping your waist, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“That’s one way to shut me up,” he mutters, his voice low, teasing, but there’s a softness there too, a warmth you haven’t heard from him before.

You can’t help but laugh softly, your heart still racing. “It worked, didn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just looks at you, his eyes darker now, softer. “You have no idea,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly against your hip, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickers down to your lips, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed to just the two of you, like nothing else exists outside this room.

For the first time all night, he smiles—really smiles—and it’s like the tension finally breaks. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. The frustration, the anger, the game—it all fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a moment that feels fragile but perfect, like you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were looking for.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and his eyes soften, the vulnerability still there, but less jagged now, smoothed by your words. “But you need to go out there and win that fuckin’ game.”

“Okay,” He says, but leans in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, this one slower, gentler, as though he’s savoring it. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your cheek, and his smile lingers, the tension from earlier now a distant memory. “But, we’re doing a lot more of this–” he gestures between the two of you, “Later.”

[tennessoui]

3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?

thank you for sending this in <3

[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.

i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.

also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)

anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night

snippet (pertaining to question 3)

At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.

Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.

"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.

"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."

Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.

"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"

Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.

"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."

Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.

"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.

"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."

Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.

Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."

"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"

"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"

Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.

"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."

Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.

And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.

"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."

It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Have i said this already

I cant remember 💃

What if nightmares spouse was still alive, or like...became alive AGAIN when nightmare has killer

Like, killer can see nightmare being affectionate with his spouse and vice versa

Basicallg what im saying is what if killer used that as an example of how to show affection and did it with color

Imagining killer just cooking a human heart for color and giving it to him, or like... purring loudly whenever color is near because he could always faintly hear nightmare purring when his spouse is near

And gifting the limbs of someone who bothered color, because nightmares spouse would frequently kill and make little artworks of the bones of someone who bothered nightmare

Hell, maybe even try to make a little artwork too. Or like carve something out of the bone that he likes, like a lil cat

Bone cat

That idea is both hilarious, terrifying, and cute. I mean, he already keeps entire jars of souls for study and presumably scoops up blood and monster dust also for study.

Realizing that some of what he’s already doing can be used as affection would be a prime light bulb moment lmao.

Like, he spends hours of his days making color the perfect jar—carefully placing the souls, blood and dust of Color’s enemies (or at least who killer thinks are color’s enemies) into a jar and decorating it all pretty with glitter and ribbons and of course placing little upside down heart stickers on the jar (don’t ask him why it was instinct) and its beautiful and killer is sure color would love it because the boss and the boss’ lover love it.

And like the jar is probably heart shaped and looks something like this

So from Color’s perspective, Killer walking up to him with the jar is the equivalent of something like this

Until Color actually gets a good look at it and then just stares, and killers like “do you like it? 🙂” and he’s all squeezing his hands together in front of his chest like this

{art by rahafwabas, edited by me.}

And then Color has to ask why he gave him this—souls and hearts and blood and dust specifically—and then killer explains about nightmare and then color’s like..”yeah, okay. That makes sense. Of course they’d do that.”

And then Color has to explain that Nightmare and his lover are not exactly the picture of a typical relationship nor what’s considered appropriate to give others, and if killer gave this to anyone else they’d probably be creeped out by it. (Which killer of course keeps in mind, because he loves creeping people out lmao.)

But then Killer’s like..

“..so do you not want it?”

Now here im not sure how exactly color would react—his souls would probably have a lot to say on this. The fact that Killer hurt and killed people for this gift, that Color has to set an example and maintain his integrity— but also how killer very obviously put a lot of thought and hard work into this gift for them and it’d be rude to throw it away.

And yet another part of color is mindful of the fact that this could very well be another of killer’s little morality and boundary tests—trying to test what color is going to do, chose kindness and not hurting killers “feelings” or maintaining his integrity.

And i think maybe a good compromise would be color giving the jar back with a kind, patient smile, and requesting that he hold the jar for him—keep it safe for him. And instead, he’d like to show him something he likes to make as gifts. (And therefore likes to receive as gifts.) and then maybe color makes use of the jar stuff to make like, some of those sand container jewelry like these:

Or perhaps Color further compromises by making one of those blood vial necklaces, appeals to killers idea of a gift with something more consenting and harm free because its vials of killer and colors blood freely given.

Something like this, but imagine Killer’s blood is something more thick and dark like Determination, while Color’s blood is like a darker version of his flames; changing colors and glowing softly in the jar.

{ @brokenramunebottle }

[fandomxo00]

King Of My Heart - Part 1 - The Wedding - Hugh Jackman fanfiction

You finally get marry the love of your life, Hugh

characters: hugh jackman x plus size!oc!Ainsley

word count: 12.8k

warnings: hugh's kids are in this, using different names tho, pregnant reader, eventually smut, daddy!dom kink, degradation, rough foreplay sex, teasing, oral!F+M, cockwarming ,lots of teasing and foreplay, really leant into this lmao

You didn't think that you were ever going to find love, when you turned 19 you came to that conclusion later on. But then you remained basically single for the next ten years. Focusing on your mental health and career. You knew that you wanted to start a family soon so you maybe have to dive back into the dating pool. You weren't completely single the last ten years, off and on surface-level relationships, then you had friends with benefits. Off and on, Miles truly was just one of your best friends, the two of you stopped having sex after he met his now fiancé, Leilani. It was just a simple conversation that the sex was over, but Miles also taught you about how a woman should be treated, in bed and out of it. 

You grew up reading fanfiction and as you've progressed your writing career, you wrote a lot about sex for a girl that hasn't had a lot of it. You'd let men treat you like shit, and because you wouldn't go in with real expectations of a real-life interaction, you just naively went along. It didn't help that a lot of the men you have slept with have been poor in bed and didn't even care to make you orgasm. With Miles, it was like seeing how many times and the dirtiest way to make each other come. 

Miles was a good man, but you were happy that nothing came of that relationship. Though he did offer to be your sperm donor before he meant Leilani. You just didn't think that would work out now. Little did you know it was all falling into place, when you published your first book. The last thing you expected was for it to get picked up as a movie. You had wormed your way into the production to make sure they didn't mess up the plot or characters. Little did you know you would see Hugh Jackman at the audition. The two main characters weren't any older than you, Erik and Matilda. But you still didn't expect such a well-known actor to show up at the casting of your movie. 

You felt an instant attraction because he was Hugh fucking Jackman coming in to play a man that you wrote as literally the perfect dad and just guy. His character is a big part of the story, as he was a single father but he'd done a lot to try and be closer to Erik. You described the character as attractive in your book, Matilda even thinking he was handsome. Though she chose the younger man to pursue, you don't think you would've. 

Most of the men your age were nothing like precious fictional Erik, and real men like him were few and far between. So, you found yourself wanting an older man all the way back in your early twenties. 

It didn't help that you thought Hugh was gorgeous. The two of you had clicked right away, that beaming smile on his face getting to your heart. When you went home and called Miles you talked about how they were turning your book into an indie film and for some reason, Hugh Jackman wanted a role. He told you that he was now divorced and that you should go for it. You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Are you nuts?" 

You were also lucky to know that the director was a huge fan of your book, so she wanted to hear all of your ideas, preferences, and directions. You even confessed you wanted to be a director, you just didn't have any experience, "You don't get any experience until someone gives you a chance." That meant you got pretty close with the four main characters, including Erik's brother. Erik's dad was kinda based on your dad, though verily different. The way Hugh embodied the character made you actively blush. At first, you started avoiding him, not excessively but enough that he confronted you. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Of course not." You flushed, looking away from him. "I mean I bet you hear this all the time but I kinda have a crush on you." You blurted, letting out a very barely there squeak of humiliation. Avoiding his eyes, you looked around, but Hugh stepped forward, his hand coming to your shoulder. The feeling of his large palm encompassing your skin as his other hand came to your chin. Lifting your eyes to his light hazel ones, the sunlight beaming on him. The faint highlights of his hair, he was growing out his beard and there were gray splotches along his jaw. You never really liked when men had beards but then you met Hugh Jackman. You wanted to feel it everywhere, you flushed at the dirty thoughts that only his touch caused.

"I'd admit I have a bit of a crush even at my age." Hugh grinned over at you, as you couldn't control the giggle that erupted from your mouth, your hand coming up to your mouth as the sides of your eyes crinkled. 

This was just the beginning of your relationship, getting closer together and helping him learn his character. Eventually, towards the end of filming, you finally had sex in his trailer. The two of you had been handsy all day, with hidden touches, secret kisses behind curtains or sets, trying not to get caught. Slowly falling in love with each other, going on press afterward with full tension and fans trying to ship the two of you. At a premiere, Hugh had been seen pretty close to you, his hand going to your back. There were pictures of the two of you looking at each other when the other was looking away. 

You did just a bit of press for the movie, then rolled into the press he had to do for Deadpool and Wolverine, and you went out with him. Ryan was thankful you had gotten Hugh out of the house; he'd been sleeping on his couch for a couple of weeks. He'd been coming to your apartment most nights, the two of us not spending much time apart. Then you went to the Chiefs game with Hugh, Ryan, Blake, and Taylor. The five of you going out after, getting to know celebrities you never thought you'd even talk to. When the reality finally set in for him, you really allowed yourself to trust his people. 

Eventually, the two of you bought a house in upstate New York, and the night you moved in he proposed to you in front of the fireplace sitting in his arms as you sat on the ground with a blanket underneath you. He slipped the ring on your finger before making love to you right there. 

You didn't want a huge wedding, but you did want it to be special. Both you and Hugh came up with a list of people who you wanted to invite, and you'd ask his daughter to be one of your maid of honor and he'd ask his son to be one of his groomsmen. Because you've gotten somewhat close with both of them, they like to come stay at your house in Skaneateles. 

You and Liz, his daughter, had bonded over crafts actually, the two of you didn't have to talk to have a good time together. When Hugh was away for different things, she would turn up to the house. You'd take her out shopping, or making food together. Then she spoke to her dad about wanting to stay at the house more often. So you helped her decorate her room and when you asked her to be your bridesmaid, you couldn't help but cry. You had a very deep connection with your cousin, she always called you her, 'Little', she'd carry you around on her hip in high school and some people thought you were hers. You don't know what your life would be without her. And you saw that in Liz, the two of you having an instant trust with each other. You knew that you were never going to be her mom, but you didn't want to be either.  

Carmen, his son, was a little harder to bond with because he was in his early twenties and his independence was very important to him. In a way that Liz hadn't quite grown into yet. He also didn't want you to replace his mom, which you understood. You had a stepdad that you hated and wished every day that your mom hadn't married him. But you knew that you would pressure it, that you needed to lean off giving any unsolicited advice. You also spoke to Hugh about it, you were trying to not overthink it, and he told you to just be patient. 

Then for Liz's 20th birthday, Hugh took her, Carmen, and you to Disneyland. For the most part, you were able to stay out of the public eye but there were fans, most of them didn't come up to Hugh, he wore a hat and sunglasses, which helped sometimes. He then posted for her birthday with pictures all of you had taken. You'd finally been able to kind of bond with Carmen while standing in line and you let them play heads up with your phone. 

Liz and your older cousin, Cassidy had gone out dress shopping with you, it had taken a while to find the one but when you did, you started crying. She had come over and hugged you, as you wiped the tears away while you looked in the mirror. You never thought this was going to happen to you. You had even mourned the idea of ever getting married, but here you were. A gorgeous meaningful ring that Hugh had chosen perfectly. It was a small oval diamond, a few smaller ones on either side on a golden band. 'Sunshine', the nickname he always called you, was scribed on the inside of the ring. Little did you know the band had 'Jackman' scribed on the inside. You had even picked out his ring, bringing your father's ring to try and find one similar to it but not exact. When you found the right one you just knew. 

The two of you needed to take time out to get a marriage license, you planned on going to the local town clerk, however, you needed a witness. Luckily, Liz was over that week, and she went out with you two to get it. Before going out to eat to celebrate, unfortunately, the paps found you, but Hugh held your leg, trying to calm your anxiety as he rubbed his thumb against your thigh. You struggled to eat when they were around, your anxiety getting the best of you. 

Hugh had been taking time off with the wedding rolling in, the two of you having a lot of sex. The anticipation for the wedding drove the two of you crazy, and you just loved him like crazy. With all the sex you were having you forgot to wrap it up, but you didn't really mind. 

You've talked to him about wanting children of your own because Liz won't need your and Hugh's support forever. Liz had brought her boyfriend over frequently; Hugh couldn't do much because she was an adult. You also told him she needed privacy, having a conversation with her the night before. Hugh loved you on a different level, especially with the way you were his children. You were incredibly patient and the idea of you giving you babies? He already wanted to give you the world, something you wouldn't easily accept. Being very hesitant with money, you just took from everyone and everything, never taking responsibility for your impulsive spending. But one day you cut down, rarely letting anyone loan you money or spend money on you. Except for rare occasions for holidays or birthdays, you didn't ask for much, usually essentials. 

When you met Hugh he let you indulge in spending, giving you a limit on a card for emergencies, that it'll always be loaded with money. You had his and his' assistants' number if you ever needed it. When you brought up your anxiety around money, he'd look into your eyes, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face as his shoulder bumped into yours. "Baby, what's mine is yours and what's your-."

"Is mine." You sighed, looking up into his eyes, your knees to your chest as another arm wrapped around you to pull you closer. "I-I just don't want to spend too much and make you feel like I'm using you-sometimes I'm really impulsive so-."

"Baby-." Hugh hushed, his other hand coming up to your jaw as he gazed into your eyes with a dreamy, sweet look in the shades of hazel green eyes. "If we have an issue, we'll talk about it, yeah?"

"God, you know you're a dream boat?" You murmured, as your hand came up to comb through his hair. 

You wound up having a doctor's appointment about a month out from your wedding. What you thought was a simple check-up, which it seemed like the whole time. But then you got a call a couple of hours later because your blood had come back and you were pregnant.

So with only a few weeks to spare, Hugh went Ob-gyn with you. You got to the building, had to pee in a cup to confirm your pregnancy before getting set up in a room, and they went over your medical history. They were able to do an abdominal ultrasound, so you lifted your shirt as the tech put gel on your stomach. You wince slightly as you smile over at Hugh, you are thankful for the blanket you had over half of you, plus the warmth of Hugh's hand on your shoulder. You were in the second month of your pregnancy, or 9 weeks along, so you didn't see much. But a bright smile came over the technician's face as she moved the TV towards you, pointing at the little circle on the screen. The sound of a fast heartbeat started sounding through the room. A very full feeling came over your heart, as you started crying. Hugh moved down to kiss your forehead, a tear of his own, dropping from his eyes. 

You were very focused on the pregnancy the next couple of days before your cousin reminded you about your honeymoon planning. You were going to plan your trip to Colorado, the plan was to be high and hang out in the city but now you agreed to go stay up in the mountains. All you wanted was a comfy place with a good view, and Hugh had found the perfect spot. Being so invested in the pregnancy the wedding was growing closer and closer. Your cousin had stepped in to be your wedding planner, she had done this a few times before. Though she hasn't done it in years, not even wanting to do anything for her own wedding. But she joked that she'd come out of her retirement for her 'toots'. 

When you turned 18, she was your safe place, you grew up in a pretty chaotic environment with an undiagnosed narcissistic mother and a father with undiagnosed autism. Which resulted in your mother cheating and your father getting angry, both of them numbing the pain with alcohol. Something that you decided to stay far away from when you were an adult. Drinking on special occasions and usually never enough to make you drunk. You'd rather be blazed as fuck than drunk. But your cousin also gave you structure, something you crave, helping you in every way she can, even to the point where she pushed herself too hard. The two of you coming together to set boundaries and grow closer. 

Before you knew it your wedding was here, the day before the wedding was the rehearsal day. Your house was filled with guests, your bridal party, and some friends. Your best friend came up to hang out with you in the morning, and Liz and your cousin went for coffee. You got ready for rehearsal dinner; you didn't really have to do much more until 3 when people started arriving. You were going to chill, take your time, and just spend time with the ones you love. You were so happy to see your dad and his wife arrive. You were 19 when you cut your mom off and never came to a point where you wanted her around. But you still sent her an invite, knowing that even though you weren't on good terms, you wanted your mom here. She would never be a part of your life in the way you wanted because of her toxic behavior, but she still meant the world to you. You wanted to hug her and see her, it'd been over ten years. So when your mom walked through the doors, tears came to your eyes. A bright smile covered her face, her brown eyes always reminded you of your own. You'd always thought you looked so much like your mom. 

All of your siblings had arrived, they had also met Hugh two Christmass' ago. Hugh paid for your family to come, it wasn't what you expected, that was the moment you knew you were going to marry him, even that early in the relationship. You always wanted to host and also wanted to bring your half-oldest brother, his wife, your sister, Hailey, and her husband. 

You were so happy to see everyone, greeting Hugh's close family members you met over the holidays. You were not the social type so not having to be constantly greeting everyone was a lot, eventually, Hugh took over as you retreated to go take a breather. "God, I need a hydroxyzine."

"Got one for ya." Your cousin said, handing you one as you grabbed your water and drank. You breathed out as you sat down in your rehearsal dress as Hugh came in shortly after to check on you. Coming to sit next to you on the couch, his hands coming to yours as he looked down into your eyes.

"We got this, yeah?" He murmured, you smiled over at him, all of the anxiety meant nothing while you were looking into his eyes. Your hand came up to move in close and kiss him. 

"I love you."

"Love you sunshine, so much." Hugh breathed as he kissed your cheek. 

You were trying not to cry as you watched your cousin set everything up, directing everyone to their places. Coming down by the lake to the setup of the arch, you were facing the trees but if you turned your head to the left, you'd see the shiny blue water. Hugh's hand rested on your back as you looked at the view that you'd hopefully look at the rest of your life with this man. You felt tears come to your eyes at the happiness you felt, your hand reaching up for Hugh's face, he had a twinkle in his eyes, his face stuck in a small grin as you gazed down at you. 

The two of you worked with your cousin to place everyone, later in the day, Hugh's best friends showed up. The two of you practiced walking down the aisle and then Ryan and Liz, your other best friend and Miles, your cousin and one of Hugh's brothers, his other brother, Ian paired with your sister-in-law, and Carmen with your sister. You pretended to do your vows, and he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you, as you giggled against his mouth. Your cheeks warming, it was hard to be in front of so many people. But you loved them all and felt relief in that as you put your arms around his shoulders, he gazed down at you with those glowing eyes that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

After the rehearsal, the two of you snuck off while everyone got food from inside. Hugh's lips were on yours so fast when you got behind the door of your room. His hands skimming down your waist, feeling your curves underneath his fingers made him growl. He pulled you tightly to him as his hands skimmed under your dress and felt your panties underneath. You moaned into his mouth, wanting him so bad, he ground himself against you. His tongue was hot in your mouth as it fought for dominance. You melted in your fiance's arm, as he pulled away from your breathless, his hands sliding back up to your waist. You giggled as you looked up at your smeared lipstick on his mouth, your finger coming up to wipe at the red. Hugh's lips puckered to kiss the tips of his fingers as his eyes, now a shade of almost mossy green, the light brown still shining in his eyes. 

"Are you doing alright?" Hugh pressed, leaning into your neck and kissing above your pulse point. Your hands going to his back to feel his muscles as you smiled up at him. 

"Overwhelmed, but a good overwhelmed." You admitted as he grinned down at you, his hand coming to move your dark hair away from your face. "How are you doing lovebug." You breathed, his fond smile still on his face. 

"Just worried about you." He hummed, pulling you back into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Hugh's familiar orangey and woodsy scent that always reminded you of him. He even kept a bottle of his cologne at home for when he was away traveling so you could spray it on his shirts or sweatshirts. "Also want you so much." Hugh gruffed, leaning down to put his lips on yours. You grinned up at him as you brought your hand down to his pants, his bulge beginning to harden.  You were as hungry for him as he was for you, haven't felt his naked body in yours in a month. Just the feeling of his cock underneath your hand made you wet. 

Hugh groaned lightly as his head came to your neck, his hips leaned into your hand as his hand came down to cup your core through your panties. The intrusion was unexpected but he felt how hot you were against his hand. "Fuck me." Hugh breathed as you licked your lips coming to kiss his lips.

"Gotta wait baby." You teased, against his lips as you felt his cock harden completely under your touch. "W-want your cock so bad." You stuttered over your words, as he applied pressure to your clit, massaging your pussy. 

"Shut up," Hugh grunted, playfulness in his tone, as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss. You knew your words were getting to him, as you moaned into his lips and bucked into his hand. The two of you pulled away from each other, the last of your restraint coming out as you giggled up at him. A toothy, dopey smile that he sent your way, which made you melt as you leant in to hug him again. Whispering how much you meant to each other, making sure you both looked presentable before going back to join everyone for dinner. 

Everyone slowly started leaving throughout the night before just the bridal party was left. Your brother included as he was going to be officiating the wedding and other people's partners. Taylor and Travis taking the kids for the night. You'd been really close with him growing up, the two of you were kind of close in age but he always made sure to hang out with you. All of you came together to play some board games, the mixture of people made for a hilarious heartwarming night with all of the people who meant so much to you. Hugh stood up at the end of the night, his hand coming to his stomach as he put a hand behind your chair. 

"I want to thank all of you for being a part of this day for us. I know how much this means to Ainsley, to have all of her people together and have a good time. This woman deserves the world." His eyes meet yours, as you wrinkle your nose in an attempt to stop crying, "Ainsley, you are a brilliant creative woman who stole my heart from the moment I met you."

You felt tears in your eyes as your hand came to the hand on the back of the chair, grasping his fingers and palm as he sat back down. Hugh leant in to lightly kiss your lips as you grinned over at him. The two of you had to separate, the guys leaving for the night as the girls stayed at the house. Hugh left giving you a kiss, his hand lingering on yours pulling your hand with his as he walked backward and mouthing that he loved you. 

The night was filled with rom-coms, fun bridal games, and a lot of everyone drinking. Liz wanted to drink a little, but she mostly stayed sober with you. Though for your anxiety you put some CBD drops under your tongue, or you would absolutely not sleep tonight. One you were pregnant it was already hard to be comfortable and two you didn't have Hugh. You used to have sleeping meds, but you didn't want to take too many medications because of the baby. So you cut down on a lot of them but also stepped away from the stress of your job for now. Right now, you wanted to focus on your family, you would take time for yourself when needed, and would always take time to write for your next book, but it was a choice to focus here on home. So, there was no real deadline or much to do. 

The next morning, your cousin had gone out with Liz and gotten breakfast and coffee, similar to the morning before. You were anxious to see Hugh, and received a text from him, like he knew you needed to hear from him. 'Good morning, my love, I don't know what made you wait for a guy like me, but I'm grateful that no one stole your heart before I could. I can't wait to marry you today, this is just the beginning baby.' You grinned down at his words, trying not to cry already, before deciding to tease your future husband. 

You sent a picture of your wedding lingerie, posing in the mirror so the curve of your ass was in the picture with the sides of the panties lifting over your hips and love handles. The bra was supposed to lift up your breasts, it also helped that you had larger breasts that looked like they were going to almost pop out with how tight you had the back clipped. You sent the picture with a little red heart and 'I love you'. You didn't let him see your face in the picture and you knew that always irked him in nudes. He wanted to see your face in pictures or just didn't do it for him completely. You laugh down at your phone as he sends an 'Oh my god, on my knees for ya baby.' 

Then you loosened the bra before putting on your clothes for the morning, a cute little satin two-piece with 'bride' on the side. The morning was verily relaxing, there wasn't much to do before everyone got there, a lot of work was done. The rest of it got done by your cousin's friends, and you went out to see them. Looking around your backyard that was completely done. You'd grown up with your cousin's college friends, you remember them at your cousin's wedding. You felt so grateful that they came all this way to help you out, though you helped finance it with your own money. You didn't mind, you didn't have to finance a lot for this wedding, Hugh covered most of the guests, but the college friends were something you wanted for yourself. Seeing them on this day was special to you, but also tried to pay for your families as well. Trying as much to pay for things where you could, you didn't have the amount of money Hugh had, but you were comfortable and willing. He'd wound up paying for a lot of the wedding and it was hard for you to not feel guilty. But he also let you know it wasn't a lot of money, affirming that it was a small wedding. 

Yesterday, the only people who were here were parents, close extended family, or a part of the bridal party. But the rest of your families and friends came, though you kept the guest list under 70 people. 

You sat outside at the back of the house, as you were talking to them. You've changed so much since the last time you really saw all of them together. You were a complete nervous wreck most of the time, even medicated. But now you were a strong, free woman who openly expressed how she felt. Something you don't think you could've done without your cousin. "Ainsley go downstairs!"

"Why?" You laughed, turning towards Liz, who had been with her father this morning. "Oh, are they here?"

"Yes!!" Ryan greeted, walking through the house and walking over to you. Your cousin's friends knew about your more high-profile life but being confronted with Ryan Reynolds was still a lot. The fact that you were marrying Hugh Jackman had to be a weird thing to come to terms with. Very unexpected especially since you were twenty years younger than him. "How's everyone doing?" He asked, slinging an arm around you. 

"Good!" You chirped as he started dragging you away. 

"Got to hide the treasure before he finds it! It's not time!" Ryan joked as you rolled your eyes at your obnoxious friend before sneaking in, as Ryan went inside. You looked over the corner of the wall, to see your handsome fiancé standing tall at the kitchen island. A toothy smile covered his face as he spoke to your dad. You giggled as you moved back before scurrying down the hall and going upstairs to get ready. You were trying to look for your cousin to no avail, she was supposed to do your hair. 

But you made your way to the bathroom to see that your best friend and Hailey had transformed your bathroom. It had big lights by the mirrors decorated in pink and white with makeup and hair supplies on the counter. Your wedding dress hung up in the corner. Liz was still with her dad from what you knew, she didn't need to get her makeup done yet; you were planning on helping her with it though. Eventually, your cousin found you, a mischievous smile on her face but tears glistening in her eyes as she came over to hug you. "What's going on?" You laughed, as she handed you the phone.

"Just so happy for you, toots." She grinned. That's when she showed you the video that Hugh and your cousin had made you. It seemed to only be the two of them, that's where she was? But before you could think too hard, you saw your handsome future husband in his black and white suit, his head tilted to the side as he smiled at the screen. "Okay, Hugh, I'm going to ask you some questions, are you ready?" Her voice was off-screen. 

"Okay, yes go for it." He clapped his hands together. 

"What are your thoughts? How are you feeling?" Your cousin asked as Hugh shrugged with a dimpled smile on his face as his hand came to his heart.

"I'm just extremely happy, slightly nervous that I'll mess this day up for Ainzy." He smiled at the childhood nickname that he pulled out, "I just hope this day is everything to her, and she chose me to marry me? It means the world to me."

"Good answer." She laughed, "What's the thing you love the most about Ainsley?"

"God,-." He huffed out a laugh, his hand came up to his mouth, and went into deep thought. "First thing that comes to mind is her humor, she's so funny and just beautiful. Also love to see her creative mind, working with that woman was an honor. It's the reason why I fell in love with her, she's been a strong presence since the moment I met her-." He rambled, as his cheeks lightly flushed, a soft chuckle falling from his mouth. You heard a sniffle on the other side of the screen as tears rose to your eyes. "She's always thinking about ways to better herself and the others around her, she just cares so much. Never met a woman like her before."

"God, stop, you're gonna make me cry." Your cousin's voice cracked, as you reached for her hand, your bottom lip coming into your mouth as you saw the bright smile come over Hugh's face. 

"What are you most excited for in this marriage?"

"Our love." Hugh started, smiling over at her, "She just has so much love in her, I can't wait to be with her for the rest of my life and see her with our child."

"Your child?" She choked.

"Yeah, she's pregnant." Hugh grinned over at her, and you heard an 'oh', before the phone the camera was moved around as she went in to hug him, before moving back, her voice scratchy. 

"Any last words?"

"I just love you so much sunshine, whatta think Y/C/N?"

You were happy that they hadn't really started on your makeup yet, as tears streamed down your face. 

"I don't think I've ever seen her happier, Hugh." She replied before the video shut off. 

"Oh my god!" Your best friend squealed, as she hugged you. You looked over at your cousin with a fond smile as your sister came in to congratulate you. 

"Supposed to not make me cry." You breathed out shakily, as your cousin brought a tissue up to her eyes to stop the makeup from running. As you are getting your makeup and hair done you blast Mamma Mia soundtrack music while everyone else gets ready in the large upstairs bathroom and your bedroom connected. 

Liz came to join you after your hair and makeup was done, so you let her sit in your chair, and you did her makeup while talking to her. "Dad told me about the baby." She grinned up at you as you smiled, nerves flashing in your eyes.

"You're okay with that?"

"You two really deserve it, Ainsley." Liz smiled over at you, as she tried not to cry, as you tilted your head at the girl. 

"You remind me so much of me at your age." You breathed; you couldn't stop smiling at the young girl who was about to be your stepdaughter. "Ya know, I couldn't be more honored to be your stepmom. I don't ever want to replace your mom, but I want you to know you can come to me if you need anything. You or your brother, I love you both so much." 

"We love you too, Ains." Liz assured as she leaned in to hug you, you gave her a soft squeeze before finishing up her makeup before curling her hair. 

The morning was going incredibly fast, like it was flying by, you were a bucket of hormonal emotions. You mind kept going to Hugh, you wondered how is morning was, if he was missing you the way you were missing him. 

When you saw your dad, you felt your lip wobble as you saw tears come to his eyes. "My little girl." He breathed, coming forward to hug you. 

"Thank you." You sighed.

"For what?" He chuckled.

"For always showing me what a good man looks like, even when you struggled. You were always such a good man and a good father." You said as you looked over at him. 

"You've grown up so much, I'm so proud of you sweetheart."

"Thank you dad." You sniffled. 

The two of you spoke for a couple more minutes before it was time to have the first look with Hugh. It had meant so much to you, when he stood down the hallway. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching as he swallowed back tears. You couldn't help the smile on your face as he moved over to you in quick strides. 

His hands came to your jaw, cupping your cheeks as he lightly pressed his lips to yours. "You are so beautiful." He choked, smiling down at you, his eyes running all over your dress, to your chest that your grandma's pearl necklace and your "H" initial necklace. Your hand came up to his face as you gazed up at him. 

"I'm marrying you." You laughed.

"Yeah, you are." Hugh smiled, his green eyes sparkling, as your heart pumped hard against your chest. His hand came to your stomach, as he lightly kissed your lips again. You felt tears rise up in your eyes, as his hand came to your cheek, his pointer finger lightly brushing against your cheekbone. Some of your highlighter coming off on his finger, just the tiniest bit. "Ainsley, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. I love you more than words can describe. Hopefully, I can show you that for the rest of our lives." 

"Suppose to save your vows." You pouted as you tilted your head back to keep in the tears, Hugh just chuckled. You looked over to see Liz taking pictures of the two of you. His hand comes up to the your 'H' necklace, putting it between his two fingers as he gazed down at you. "You are the perfect model, aren't you?" That caused a smile to break out over Hugh's face, his crow feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes. You can't help but move your hand up to his face. He leaned into your hand as you gazed into his eyes. "Now you gotta get shirtless." You whispered, leaning into his ear, as he laughed. Hugh's strong arms wrapped around you easily, as he tugged you into him as he gave you that adorable tight lip smile, your fingers moving over his smile lines. 

"We're gonna have to get real pictures soon." Hugh sighed, leaning in to kiss the side of your face. He's watched you put on makeup several times to know that you didn't put foundation on, so he knew where to kiss. You giggled as your hand ran through his hair as a wobbly smile came on your face.

"Messin' up your hair." You squeaked. 

"You know I don't mind."

"Now even for a photoshoot?" You teased.

"It's our wedding, Ainsley." Hugh huffed out laughter, as he moved in to softly kiss your lips before letting you go. You know that he didn't want to, but you never pulled away first so eventually he had to. 

You grabbed Hugh's hand as you went out of the house to see your cousin, your brother's family hanging around the front. You went out to see your cousin who had been busy with final touches, telling her that you were ready for pictures. You were going to do the pre-ceremony pictures with her but after the ceremony, Hugh had hired an expensive photographer of his choice. Then you walked over to him to make sure everything was going well on your brother's front. "Thank you for doing this." You smiled over at your brother, as you hugged him. Hugh went in for a friendly handshake, as your brother nodded to him. Your eyes landed on your blue-eyed niece with a soft grin. Last night, they had gotten a babysitter for their baby, but you were so happy to see her here. 

She was in the same dress that your cousin used for her niece at her wedding. It was made up of your grandma's wedding dress, and she had lent it to Hailey for her wedding, and now yours. You put your niece to your hip as you grinned down at her. Your cousin moved over to take pictures, as Hugh's hand came to your back as he leaned in to say 'Hi' to her. Eventually, you had to hand her back, she was your flower girl so you would see her soon. But your cousin whisked the two of you off to do some pictures by the water. 

You always enjoyed taking pictures with your cousin, she did your senior photos and has been taking pictures professionally since high school. Hugh was as charming as ever and your cousin had complimented how photogenic Hugh was. He goes to dip you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grin up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips before pulling you back up, keeping his arms around you. "I love you." Hugh leaned into your ear and whispered, as you grinned before bringing your hand up to his cheek as you kissed his lips. 

"Gonna have to reapply my lipstick."

"Oh well." Hugh breathed, smiling against your lips as your chest shook with laughter. Before his head moved to tuck into your neck he pulled you closer. Your hands went to the back of his head feeling the hair as he held you. He was really big on physical contact, something you had to get used to. But one day he just became your most trusted person, your favorite person, his touch was always soothing. 

"My lovebug." You giggled into his ear, Hugh felt his chest warm at the sound of your giggling, it went straight to his heart. Breathing in his favorite perfume that you wore, as his hands splayed on your back. He loved the material of this dress, and he so badly wanted to take it off of you. 

You finished the pictures before going back into the house as the guests arrived and went right to the backyard through the side of the house. Your bridal party was with you inside of the house but everyone else had been seated. You started feeling slightly dizzy, and your heart began to race, this was the most important day of your life, and you were allowed to have some nerves. You sat down and drank some water before reapplying and retouching your makeup. Hugh sat next to you rubbing your back, as your hand came to his, slotting your fingers together. "Just a lot of people." 

"I know, baby," Hugh murmured, kissing your hair as he rubbed at your back. Your cousin came to put your veil into your hair, as she grabbed a curl and tightened it around her finger. You grinned over at you before getting up, Hugh squeezing your hand before going out to the back doors. You started getting ready to walk down the aisle, listening to 'Kacey Musgraves Love Is A Wild Thing, as you focused on your breathing trying not to overthink. Your dad came in, as you two started chatting back and forth until it got to the bridge, the two of you walking out with your arm looped through his.

You felt a lump form in your throat as your eyes met Hugh, the reality that you were marrying this man, the love of your life, right now. You really couldn't feel any happier than in this man’s periphery. He had the softest look on his face, before his nose flared as he tilted his head, a wobbly smile on his lips. You could see the emotion on his face, you never thought you would feel this loved by another person. Hugh's love was written all over his face, something that he showed you almost every night.

You didn't have sex every night, but you were intimate together. Focusing solely on other's bodies, learning every sensitive spot, kissing every dip and freckle. Trusting each other in ways you'd never trusted another person before. You had never gone bare with anyone before him, something you did later in the relationship. Never let a partner stay inside of you after you have sex, or hold you the way he does. As close as he could possibly be, doing whatever he pleased with your body. You started experimenting with different toys, different ways to pleasure each other, and find what drives the other crazy. 

But now with him standing in front of you, love is emitting in the air between you as your dad handed you off to Hugh. You kissed your dad's cheek before Hugh led you to stand in front of him, his hand coming into yours after you handed off your bouquet to Liz. You glanced over at your brother with a fond smile, as the music ended. 

Your brother begins his speech, "Hello and welcome! We're here today because Hugh and Ainsley have decided they love each other so much that they want to get the government involved! But again, thanks to all who have joined us today, I know that every one who is here today is very important to both the bride and groom." He clears his throat, as you smile over at Hugh. "Growing up I always wanted to protect Ainsley, we always had a very close relationship, and I knew that whoever was going to end up with my sister needed to be a good guy. Little did I know when you said you were bringing your new boyfriend that you'd be bringing home the wolverine." Hugh chuckled, along with the crowd, a smile curving your face. "All jokes aside, I should have known you'd find a superhero to fall in love with. The moment I knew that you were going to wound up with his guy was when you said. "Yes, he's a superhero, but I don't need him to save me, I just want to be by his side no matter what happens." Because that is what love is, it's growing together, forgiving each other even if you hate each other, and coming together. At the end of the day, you love each other, and you promised you'd always be by each other’s side."

The two of you promised yourselves to each other, before getting the opportunity to recite your vows, Hugh got to start, "I'm going to start off with a story of when I first met Ainsley. If you didn't know we met on the set of her movie and from the moment I walked into that audition I felt your strong presence. You've always been a force to reckon with and I didn't like to admit that but you captivated me in a way I had never felt before. I'm a 50-something-year-old divorced man, with a career that was slowing and a status that was waning. I didn't want to do the movie at first, so I went to the audition to see the script in action just to meet you. Seeing your vision come to life became my passion, to see what you spoke about so vehemently on the big screen, come to life. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you because your creative talent was something anyone would want to witness. It also helped that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. As cheesy and repetitive as that sounds, there is a type of beauty that only your kind, creative, observant soul emits. The only type of beauty that I can associate with your eyes and your name. The type of beauty that got me to do an indie romance movie this late into my career." You laughed as tears clouded your vision, your handkerchief from your cousin’s wedding, a beautiful blue, purple, and green peacock on the fabric. You brought up the material to dab at your eyes. "I've said this many times but you are my world, wanting to make you happy and see you thrive has become my number one goal. My career used to come first, one of the things I was most passionate about. But when you walked into my life you showed me what I was missing, I started only being able to picture you as my future and started seeing you in the tiniest details of my life. I couldn't have asked for a better partner, someone who took the time to get to know my kids, even without me asking. This woman spent hours trying to come up with the best way to connect my children, she asked my advice and showed the type of patience I could only wish I had. You care so deeply about others and show me the love I deserve. Our love is the type that consumes us but somehow stabilizes and grounds us as well. I know from the beginning you told me you didn't need a man in your life, you could be by yourself and be content. But that you chose me, you chose to shove past all of your fears to come into my arms. And my love, my sunshine, my Ainsley, I can't thank you enough for choosing me and I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you why you chose me." 

"Thank you, Hugh. Ainsley, have you prepared your vows?"

"I have." Your voice shook, as you cleared your throat before opening up the paper. You don't know how Hugh managed to recite that but it warmed your heart to know he took it so seriously and said the sweetest heartfelt words that made it impossible to not cry. "I um, I never wanted to fit into the patriarchal idea of marriage, and giving away your last name for someone else. I didn't think that the love I deserved was going to happen for me, not because I didn't deserve it but because it was so specific. People told me to lower my standards and conform, but I held strong and eventually thought I was going to end up alone. But I found you." Your voice wobbled, as a tear came down to your cheek as you looked up at Hugh, his green eyes shimmering as he squeezed your hand. "You know that feeling you get when you've made a final decision, cut and dry so easily was what I thought my future was. I thought I was going to be alone. Then you did everything, you filled in the gaps and checked all of my boxes. Even when you couldn't, you'd walk in head first and you asked me what I needed and never hesitated to give it to me. Your love is the type of thing that heals so many wounds because all of my trauma can be shut down by saying I did find the love of my life. I did find the right guy, I did hold out for my hero. I found a man who I trust to love me for the rest of my life and someone I can so easily love. Because Hugh, that is what you are and always have been. You are just so so easy to love, it's nuts. You are ridiculously funny, charming, and kind. You constantly put others in front of you and you never ask for anything in return. You constantly held my hand in the darkness and reminded me that I wasn't alone. You held the door open in your life and welcomed me through the front door. Ever since I have felt at home in your arms," Your voice breaks, as you try to take a deep breath. "I have never felt safer with anyone or anything, the way I feel with you. The way you show me every day that you are my safe haven, my hope, and everything that I could've ever wished for. Hugh, I don't think I'm very good at this but lovebug, I love you so much. In a way that I could never possibly write, paint, or create. The type of love that can only be shown through time, grace, and passion. The type of love that we hold between us and that we will continue to spread in our future.” You looked up into Hugh’s eyes as you finished, his fingers squeezing yours as he looked down at you with glassy orbs. 

"Thank you, both great displays of your love. Ainsley and Hugh, are you two ready to get married?

"Yes please." You murmured as Hugh breathed out a, "yes.", 

"Do you take one another as partners from this day forward?"

"We do." You and Hugh spoke together as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, a shine of green reflecting in his orbs with a fog of almost beige, brown. His frown lines dipped as he held a serious look in his eyes, your fingers itching to feel his smile lines against your thumb. Your eyes trace the curve of his nose to the barely-there dusting of freckles. 

"Will you love, honor, and cherish one another as partners for the rest of your lives?"

"We will." You repeat as you feel a smile line your face, as you squeeze Hugh's hands. 

"Hugh and Ainsley have chosen these rings as a symbol of their unbreakable love. Please place these rings on each other's fingers and repeat after me." Your brother began, as Ryan's son waddled over to you with the rings. 

"Thank you bub." Hugh grinned down at him, before standing up and handing you his ring. You felt your eyebrows furrow as you tried not to cry, as Hugh took your hand. 

"I give you this ring as a reminder of our love, safety, authenticity, and trust." Your brother started as Hugh gazed down at you, his eyebrows dipping as his eyes flicked back and forth from yours. His warm hand encompassed yours as you pointed your ring finger at him as he looked into your eyes with passion and repeated your brother's words.

"I give you this ring as a reminder of our love, safety, authenticity, and trust." And Hugh gives you his hand, your other hand holding it as you repeat the words before sliding the golden ring on Hugh's ring finger. 

"By the authority vested in me, it is with joy that I pronounce you married. Family and Friends I present to you, Mrs. and Mr. Jackman!"

Hugh scoops you up in his arms as your ring-clad hand comes up to his jaw and his lips smash against yours. You smiled against his lips before giggling in joy as you parted, your hands coming together as he pulled you back to lightly kiss your lips again. Your hands clasped together as he raised your hands into the air, making you laugh as you looked over at your husband. ‘Can't take my eyes off of you’ by Frankie Valli started playing as Hugh forced you to dance down the aisle. Your cheeks flamed before you got back inside of the house. Hugh wrapped his around you the sound of his booming laughter making your chest feel warm, as he kissed the top of your head. "We're married, baby."

"God I love you so much." You cried, your arms slinging around his broad shoulders as his arms went to your back and tugged you in closer as his lips fell on top of yours. 

"I love you," Hugh mumbled against your lips, as Liz and Ryan came in after you.

"C'mon let's make it official love birds." Ryan ushered, slinging an arm around Liz as Hugh led the three of you to the reading room where you had kept your marriage license on your desk. Your brother walked in shortly after and you walked over to hug him.

"You did so good! Thank you."

"No problem, Ainsley." Your brother replied, patting your back as you moved back as he came to sign his part. "Okay you guys sign this and your witnesses and it's official."

Liz and Ryan signed their names first before you and Hugh did your own, signing your name Ainsley Jackman. Your hand came over Hugh's as he handed the license to your problem. "We're gonna drop Y/N/N, off at home and go get this to the courthouse, we'll be back."

"Grab some food before you go," Hugh suggested, as your hand came to his forearm and you looked up at him, your hands coming to rest on his stomach. Your brother left, as Hugh glanced down into your eyes he saw the look in your eyes. You needed to be alone. "Why don't you go out, Ryan led them to the dining area."

"Yes sir." Ryan huffed, as Liz grinned over at the two of you before walking out. Hugh's arms wrapped around your thighs as he sat down on your loveseat. Pushing your dress up so it was looser around your hips, as your hands came to his chest. His hands came to grip your hands as his lips landed on yours. Then you moved your head into his neck as he pulled you in closer. The sound of his heart beating against your ear. You had planned a break between the ceremony and the dinner, your cousin and her husband were supposed to take your food and bring it in. You would go back for dessert, cut the cake, and socialize with everyone. 

But after all the social interaction you needed time alone with your new husband. The smell of his woodsy cologne fills your senses as your hand comes up to thread through his hair. Hugh's nose pressed against your neck, as you felt his eyes flutter shut against your skin. One of his hands rubbed up and down your back, as you held each other close. Little murmurs about how much you love each other go back between the two of you. Your eyes almost grow tired as the door opens and your cousin comes in. "Hey, love birds!" She greeted, setting down one of your plates and cups. Her husband is doing the same, nodding over at you. 

"Congrats Ainsley."

"Thank you." You smiled over at him as you moved off of Hugh's lap. The two of you go over to grab your plates before sitting on the couch together, pulling a table over to you, that hangs over the couch. The two of you chatted back and forth, your hands kept reaching over to touch each other. Or wanting to try something on each other's plate. You're giving each other excuses to reach over the table and kiss. 

When you're done with your dinner you walk back out, everyone cheering for you and making you blush. Everyone grabs their wine glasses and taps their knives against it. You giggle your hand coming to your mouth as Hugh's left arm comes to your waist, pulling you in to smash your lips together. When he moves back, he gives you a soft smile, as he leads you to the front of the room. The dinner and reception go back in a flash, full of dancing, and singing. Right before the dancing, Hugh serenaded you with 'All Of Me' by John Legend, a song that you now deemed as your song. You weren't sure where you were sleeping tonight, Hugh was keeping that a secret. Before you knew it, you were drunk off the happiness, love, and excitement. You were shocked when there was a limo waiting for you. "They're going to keep the window closed," Hugh whispered in your ear, as you walked out of the house. 

The night twinged your nose as Hugh carried your bags over your shoulders. The rest of your suitcase all packed up in the back. You smiled at the fact that he had to set this all up for you, keeping a secret. You still didn't know where you were going. Your family came out to decorate the back of the limo for you earlier, it was all marked up with 'Just married', streamers, and balloons hanging off the back of it. The sunset was starting to come down as you said goodbye to your family and got into the back of the limo. Hugh climbed in after you, before getting right down on his knees. Your eyes widened as his hands came to your knees, spreading your thighs. You flushed, as he pulled your hips down the seat. 

"Hugh." You giggled, as he grinned up at you and he pecked kisses against the inside of your thigh. ---start here. His hands came up to the sides of your dress, dragging them up your hips. Hugh's hands soothing over the rolls on your belly. His lips kiss over the fabric covering your clit, making you huff out. 

"Keep imaging this on you all day, trying not to get hard. God it's been so long since I've been inside of you," Hugh grunted, burying his nose into the wet fabric of your cunt. "Always smell so fucking good. Gotta fucking taste you, my wife." 

"I'm yours, Hugh." You panted, as his hands to your white lacey panties, pulling them off your hips and dragging it down your thighs, your heels falling off your feet. Hugh moves your legs up around his shoulders before parting your thighs and licking a fat strip up your petals. He groaned at the taste on his tongue before burying his mouth into you, his nose sitting on your mound as his fingers came up to prod at your tight entrance. Your walls flutter around his finger, and he grunts into your nub making your hips buck into his mouth. Hugh's strong biceps flex as he pulls you back to his mouth in the position he wanted. "Hugh, fuck." You moaned.

This man ate pussy like a god. His finger came up to pinch at your clit, spitting on it while he lapped at your folds. Or his nose rubbing at your clit while he fucked you with his tongue, you wreathed in his grasp, and one of his hands pulled your top down to cup your bra-clad breast. Finding your nipple through the fabric and tweaking the nipple. Hugh mumbling and groaning into your cunt to make you slicker as he made you come all over his face. "Fuck me, princess," Hugh called. "Such a good girl." His large hands soothed up and down your thighs as he gazed up at you with forlorn eyes. 

"God I need your cock, please Hugh, fill me up." You begged as Hugh groaned, pulling you to him and shoving his erection into your wet pussy. The black cloth of his dress pants getting wet with your clear arousal. 

"Gotta wait."

"No, fuck me, Hugh. Gotta fuck your wife." You pressed, your hands coming to unbutton his shirt. His hand smacked your hand away. "Wanna feel you."

"So fucking needy," Hugh grunted, as he rutted into you, his head shooting back as he groaned softly. "Know how badly I wanna claim you and teasin me like that. Knowing that you wanna wait." His hands come to your ass, pulling you up and his hand comes to the side of your cheek. 

"Hugh!" You yelped, flushing a deep red, and the feeling of sweat rose to your skin. 

"Shut the fuck up." He grunted.

"You're the one you spanked me." You squeaked, a giggle erupting from your chest. Hugh couldn't help but smile over at you as his lips came to your thighs. 

"Make you come again."

The car came to a stop, as Hugh moved back keeping your panties in his pocket. Pulling down your wedding dress as your hands came up to your chest. Readjusting your breasts as Hugh moved to readjust his cock in his pants. Your eyes fixated on the bulge as his hand came over it. A shaky breath came out of your mouth as you moved closer. "Need your cock so bad. Let me taste you."

"Fuck-we gotta go-."

"Please need you in my mouth, fuck my throat daddy." Hugh huffed out a rough laugh, as hand came to your hair, gripping it in his hand. The nickname turned him on, as your hand came on top of his bulge. Your lips smashed against his in a hard kiss, your tongues and teeth clashing together. 

"So fucking naughty, princess." He taunted, nipping at your lip before pulling you away. "Get out of the car."

"But d-."

"Get out of the fucking car," Hugh said as you stood up as he harshly demanded, his hand coming to smack your ass possessively as you opened the door. 

You turned around with a grin on your face, "Harder." His hand came to your hip pushing you out of the car before standing behind you. Hugh leant down to grab the bags from the car, before wrapping his jacket around your shoulders. You pulled the sides to your chest as you walked forward out of the car. Your eyes widened as you looked around at the airport, there was Hugh's private jet, he didn't use it often, but he wanted to get it out for this occasion. The two of you are staying in Denver, Colorado for the next couple of days to see the local cities and go to different places. When you got on the plane, Hugh took you back towards the private part of the plane. Locking the door before turning you around, you giggled as his lips came to the back of your neck lightly placing kisses along your skin. His hands work the zipper down the back of your dress. 

"Just wanna rip this off of you." Hugh groaned as he tugged off the dress, pulling at the sleeves as he undressed you. "Fucking love you so much, my everything right here." He breathed out, as his nose pressed against your collarbone, and he pecked against the skin. When your breast was let free from your bra, he grasped one of them in his hands as he groaned, before his other hand came between your folds and his fingers entered your slick entrance. "God your so fucking wet." He started hammering his fingers in your g-spot, making you moan out loudly as his mouth came over your clit. You loved the feelings of his fingers inside of you, they were long and thick, hitting places deep inside of you. But it was nothing like his cock, and the further his fingers reached the more you imagined his cock bruising your cervix. 

"God, fuck me, Hugh." You pleaded.

"Come for me first," Hugh argued, as started swirling his tongue on your clit as he sucked, his fingers rubbing upwards to hit the special spot inside of you. The feeling welling up inside your pussy as he continued his ministrations, the squelching filling up the room as his index and middle finger prod at the spongy part inside of you. The part he loved wrapped around his cock, he bucked his hips into the mattress as he spit on his finger to make it even wetter. You gushed out on him as you jerked your hips, not quite coming yet, but as he blew on your clit, you cried out his name. 

"Fuck, Hugh." He pulled your aching clit back into his mouth and he keeps sucking like his life depends on it.  

"God can't come, need your cock." You cried as you leant forward, your hand reaching down to the tent in his crotch. "I bet you’re so fucking hard, gotta feel it. Love that vein that runs down your Adonis belt to your cock. Need inside me." 

"Fuck, needy little cock-slut." Hugh growled, his hands coming to his shirt to start unbuttoning it. While you sat up scooching forward to undo his button and zipper, pulling it down and pushing down the sides of his pantsuit. You left out a soft whine as you felt his cock bulging from underneath his boxer briefs. You sighed out shakily, as you leaned forward to kiss his hot dick over the fabric. Your fingers came to the hem of his Calvin Klein's and tugging them down to expose his hard as a rock member, bobbing in the air. His tip was a fiery red, precum bubbling off the tip, he was rough and veiny, his mid-shaft thick and long. You leant forward to kiss at the sides of his dick before spitting on his cock. Hugh groaned, as he pushed back his button and his hand came to your hair, tugging on the roots as he positioned the mushroom tip of his cock at your lips. Your tongue poked out to wet the skin, Hugh hissed at the softest before your wet mouth enveloped him. A deep moan of your name fell from his mouth as he panted. 

Hugh pushed his cock further into your mouth, as your jaw loosened, and you started gagging around him. He breathed out shakily, the sensation coursing through his veins like adrenaline. Your mouth was so soft, you knew just how he liked your mouth on him. You were drooly and messy, your hips kept shifting and your thighs kept wiggling. He pulled you off of his cock, his hand coming to pet your cheek. Hugh leant down to kiss your lips, his hand coming to your waist and pulling you closer to him. He stepped out of his dress pants before sitting on the bed and pulling you on top of him. Your lips crashed down on his with a soft moan, your hand coming down to his hard cock that rested between the two of you. You started moving your hand up and down his shaft as he gazed into your eyes with a light brown haze in his eyes. Then you lifted your hips, bringing his dick to your entrance and starting to sink down on his tip. The velvety walls taking him in made a groan quell from his throat, his hands stopping your hips from moving further. "Fuck you're so tight." Hugh panted, as he tilted his head to look into your eyes. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked over at your husband. You felt the cold of his ring against your skin. Hugh pulls you off of him, before moving you onto your back and sliding into you. You cried out at the feeling of his cock filling you completely, your walls so slick it didn't hurt. "I love you, baby." He murmured, leaning into your room before he started slowly thrusting his hips into yours. 

"Fuck, Hugh." You whined, tucking your head into his neck as your hand delved into your hair, tugging on the strands as his lips messily met yours, his hips making soft moans fall from your lips like a case of the hiccups. His hands moved to both sides of your hair, moving your hair away from your face. Hugh started lightly tracing your features while he gave you deep long thrusts, his hand coming down trace circles on your throbbing clit. You fluttered around his dick before spasming more, almost pushing his member out of your pussy. But he pushed his hips further into you, your eyes looking down at his flexed sweaty abs, his head tilting back at the feeling of you clamping around him. Then the gush you let out as you orgasmed, the high-pitched roaring moan of his name echoing off the walls of the room. You were lucky that you were in the sky, you hoped no one else heard you. "Wanna mark you, fucking mine."

"Yeah, baby? Need to mark your territory? Fucking show me I'm the one?" Hugh grunted, pulled out of you for a moment, as your lips sucked and nipped as his neck. You were sure to leave fat bruises on his neck, your fingers digging into his skin and pulling him in close. You sighed at the vicinity of his cock, making sure that he remained close as he grinned down at you. "Just wanna make you come again on my cock, feels like fucking heaven." 

"Don't want you to stop fucking me." You admitted, a flush throughout your whole body, as his hand came down to your sensitive pussy to massage the skin. He moved forward, lining up his cock with your pussy and sinking inside, he filled himself to the hilt. Your pussy was the perfect fit for his cock, your hands shakily gripping his shoulders as you sloppily bit his jaw and mouth. 

"Just gonna stay right here for a moment." Hugh's mouth enveloped your breast, his other hand coming to cup your breast and tweak at your nipple. Your nipples puckering up for him, growing wet with his mouth sucking and teasing them. He groaned softly at the way you fluttered around his cock, he leaned into you an idea popping into his head. "Fucking use me, fucking yourself on my cock." 

You moaned, your hands coming to cup his hands that moved over your breasts as you started grinding your hips against his and letting out the airest brightest moan as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair. Hugh moved forward to kiss your lips a soft kiss, trying to resist fucking you into oblivion as he helped you move your body against his cock. Your hips doing the motions and Hugh giving the oomph behind it. That was until you started begging him, whining like a little puppy, "God fuck me, Hugh. Need you to fuck the shit of me, baby." You slurred, as he couldn't help but give a toothy grin as he pressed his swollen lips to yours. Hugh was hesitant to buck his hips into yours, the two of you moving together in harsh movements, your orgasm welling up in you with the rhythmic movement before your back arched, his hands over your breasts as you cradled his arms. Your mouth dropped open as you panted out his name, but before you could react he started jack hammering into your soaked cunt. His cock fell out of you before he pulled out of you, a moan falling from your mouth as he turned you over on your back, getting pillows to help support you and the baby. His hand moved behind your thighs to feel your slick, the arousal a web between his pointer and middle finger. Hugh brought the essence up to his mouth, moaning at your taste before grabbing his cock and pushing his hips forward to bottom out at you. 

"Fuck Hugh." You cried, grabbing onto the maitress as he started jackhammering into your cunt. Your head tilts back as you move against him, his hand coming around to rub at your clit. Your body folding back into him as you started fucking yourself back on his cock like a hungry slut. "Daddy you fuck me so good."

"God your fucking husband now baby girl." Hugh grumbled against your lips, as he lightly slotted his against yours as started rubbing taunt circles on your clit, the movements concentrated as you grabbed at his hand covering your stomach for leverage. One of your hands slid to his strong veiny bicep clutching on for dear god, as you felt a strong orgasm begin to blossom in your stomach like a tall blooming sunflower on a hot shiny summer's day. 

"Mine." You sighed, leaning back into his back before your legs give out as they tremble with your orgasm running through you like a freight train, sucking in your husband's member and his hips stuttering into you, before ground into you while his orgasm shot out of his slit and into your pulsating cunt. Hugh kept his cock inside of you as he leaned his weight on to you, making you sign with the feeling of him against you. Your hands smooth up his back, feeling his sweat skin and the dips of his muscled back. You kissed his shoulder as he hid in your neck, both of your sexes pulsating and throbbing. Hugh eventually pulled out of you to take care of the two of you. 

Carrying you to the bathroom to help you go to the bathroom, you both take bird baths before getting into the pair of pajamas that Hugh had packed for the two of you. Brushing your teeth and getting back out to the bedroom. He pulled off the top blanket and set it on the ground before pulling up the top sheet. You crawled under and he turned off the light as he crawled under with you. Hugh's strong arms wrapped around you as his hazel eyes gazed down at you with piercing love.

note: this got out of hand and i had to imagine every little thing because i wanna marry this man so badly it's not funny

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1 @squishyfruitloop

[cartoonsinthemorning]

I really like your marchil and stancest arts! Do you have any opinions on toudencest (laios x falin)?

Thank you so much! Anon, let's officially connect the suspicious dots, because I ship Toudencest hard, and I do have, in fact, a lot of opinions. Most likely, the unpopular kind. But before I go into my deranged details rant, here, have a sketch.

Ok, let's go! Laios and Falin have the BEST relationship in Dunmeshi. They understand each other like no other does. It was used as a gag, but: the party getting mad at Laios for saying 'hadn't Falin got eaten, they would have never savored the delicious exorcism sorbet'...and Laios thinks to himself Falin would had understood what he meant-- OOHHH that hit my heart so hard!! That scene meant so much to me! It's TRUE. Everyone, even his friends, misunderstand Laios constantly. But Falin would understand him. It's beautiful. It moves me. Another thing that shakes me to the core: Falin is the only one showing genuine excitement about Laios' passions, interests and discoveries. Like, what I mean is, Senshi does share with Laios an interest about making monster's edible, and later on basically everyone in the story gets mind-boggled about how useful Laios' bizarre knowledge can be- BUT! she is the only one that geeks out with him about monsters. And not out of functionality. No, she's genuinely excited about him sharing new knowledge with her. When she's brought back to life and Laios tells her about monster-eating, her first reaction is basically jumping up and down, overjoyed.

And this is so downplayed. How similar they are, in this regard, I mean. Because most people portray Falin as a poised, soft-spoken normal girl, who's got this unhinged monster-fucker as a brother- ahah- and they seem to forget she is HIGHLY weird too, that her interest and methods are VERY unconventional too! Did people miss the flashback episode showing how she did homework in magic school, basically going into wild, forbidden areas to be in direct contact with the creatures living in there, even if it's considered dangerous, almost blasphemous? COME ON, Laios and Falin share the same approach, no wonder they are best friends! People tend to downplay it, I think, because Laios is the one getting gag-worthy reactions from people- getting yelled at, glared at, etc. But in fact, Falin is just as weird as he is. And it's so sweet how that brings them together, even when they are apart... I also think the fandom largely downplays how much of a bro-con Falin is: she was so clingy as a child lmao, but seriously, she was heartbroken when Laios left home without her- and the thing is, you would expect, after she grew up some more and went to study magic, things would change, her priorities would change. BUT NOOOO, no Sir: Laios pops into her life again years later out of the blue and she drops everything to run away with him. GOD that's so ROMANTIC, she is in LOVE, she is down SO BAD for Laios. What would I give for a detailed fan fic about their travels alone together. Sigh. I think I'm gonna end it here because I went well off the rails-- BUT ONE MORE THING!!! When she was a child and she SO PROUDLY bragged how good her brother is at imitating a dog's bark. God. God my heart. her love is so sweet so precious so immaculate so pure. Ok now I'm done for real byeeeee

[aluraveil]

A/N: I'm a yandere blog, how the hell did this piece turn so fluffy? This was meant to be a short drabble wtf LMAO.

I find it crazy how genshin fanfic writers basically all agree to certain things about the Fatui Harbingers.

For instance, Capitano would put on a cold, stoic, and heartless fighter on the battlefield but with his lover, he's extremely soft, caring, and will do anything for you. Basically your knight in shining armor who will bend down on his knee and go the extra mile.

We also have everyone simultaneously agree that Pantalone would absolutely spoil his lover with gifts and materialistic items and how spending mora on his darling would be his primary love language. If Pantalone is ever gone for too long, he would absolutely make it up to you by having a maid deliver a special gift just for you.

Along with Pierro who's seen a lot through his 500+ years of living and how he's similiar to Capitano who puts on a cold and uncaring front. But with his lover? Oh hell yeah, his chilly exterior instantly melts away like an ice cube on a hot summer day.

Childe, who values his family above all. He would absolutely introduce you to his family and gets extremely excited when all of you get along with each other. He would definitely have you meet his younger brother Teucer. Well you're his lover now, so you're technically his family too. Childe enjoys spending time with all of you and it warms his heart after a long day of duties as a Fatui Harbinger.

The Father of the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino raises her children like a strict unfeeling father, when in reality she cares about them a lot and only wishes the best. Same thing with you, Arlecchino may act tough and stoic, but behind close doors she's all yours. You get to meet the children and even Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet and it puts a smile on her face. There's no way in hell Darling wouldn't meet the children either, it's practically a guarantee at this point.

The mad doctor, Dottore who spends a lot of his time in the lab doing research. After an exhausting day, he comes home to you. We all agree that since Dottore is busy, his other segments will for sure keep you company!

[bring-forth-his-sac]

so I watched The Losers (yes, because I wanted to gawk at JDM for 90 minutes) and I kept noticing how much he held his partner's hand in it😭💕 and so of course I had to write a lil drabble about this but with Negan lmao

tags: mentions of nudity, aftercare, established relationship, this is seriously just goofy idk why I wrote this

I didn’t proof read this, pls be kind xoxoxoxoxoxo

word count: 950

Bated breaths, shaky legs and a whole lot of sweat. That’s how your night has been going. 

The trail of discarded clothes that leads to the bed is a testament to the passion of the last few hours. Catching your breath, the cool air caresses your bare skin as you sprawl out on the soft bed sheets.

Beside you is Negan, his breathing just as ragged. You both lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling and completely worn out. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your mingled breaths of recovery.

A hum escapes your lips when you feel Negan’s touch. His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle embrace. Negan lets out a content sigh, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he remarks “Now that was quite a workout”.

He runs his other hand through his tousled hair as parts begin to curl and flick out in different directions. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you groan, though you’re not complaining.

Negan chuckles, nudging you closer to him “Guess I did a damn good job then, huh?”. Taking the hint, you roll over, momentarily letting go of his hand as you reposition yourself.

You pay no attention to the brief pout that crosses Negan’s face. His shift of expression only lasts momentarily, quickly fading once you take his hand again and interlock your fingers with his. 

“You wanna have a bath?” Negan offers. He knows you’re both exhausted but the thought of sharing a moment of intimacy with you in the suds has its own allure.

“Honestly? I think I just wanna change into something comfy and sleep until noon” you admit, the prospects of a bath sounding more like a chore than a luxury. Tomorrow you’ll shower and start fresh. Tonight, after the last few rounds you’ve had, you just want to sleep.

“Sounds like a plan” he agrees with a weary grin. 

With a groan, you move to get up, giving Negan’s hand a small squeeze as you go to release your grip. But you don’t. You can’t. As you sit up on the bed, your hand stays entangled with Negan’s.

You glance down at your joined hands and then back up at him.

Your voice is laced with amusement as you try to break free from his grip. “…Negan,” you say, shaking your hand as if you're trying to shake off droplets of water “y’know I kinda need my hand back if I want to get dressed”.

Negan looks up at you, his expression almost comically petulant. The look in his eyes is one of sheer stubbornness and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“So if I don’t let go, you’re staying butt-ass naked?” He smirks, his gaze roaming over you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let. Me. Go. Put. My. Clothes. On” you punctuate each word with a tug of your hand, trying to pry his fingers away from yours as you stand up by the edge of the bed. 

But despite your best efforts to free yourself, he easily holds on, his long limbs giving him the advantage.

“C’mon now, don’t go running off,” Negan teases, his grip unwavering but gentle as he attempts to pull you back on to the bed “aftercare is good for ya, and I gotta take care of my girl!”.

“Clothes are good for me too!” You try to argue back, not caring if you’re being just as silly as him.

Negan chuckles and makes no attempt to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, appreciating every curve and contour. “Yeah, well, not when I'm around”. 

With a sudden yank from Negan, you let out an “oof” sound as you collide with him, finding yourself laying on his chest yet again, pressed against his warm, naked body. He gives you a smug grin, squeezing your hand in his, just to let you know he’s won this silly little battle. 

“Hmph” you try to give him a glare but he quickly steals a kiss from your lips, completely wiping your scowl away. 

You look down at Negan, a soft smile playing on your lips as he lays beneath you, his hand holding yours against his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart and the tickle of his chest hair on your wrist. Negan meets your gaze, his eyes drinking in your face with deep affection.

Damn him. As much as you have him wrapped around your finger, you’re most definitely wrapped around his too. “Fine, we can do it your way,” you relent, snuggling closer and resting your head on his chest “but I swear if one of your men come barging in here—“

“Then they’ll be going on the fence with the rest of the dead pricks, don’t you worry, baby” he reassures you, kissing the top of your head. 

As you close your eyes to relax, Negan lifts his head up, quickly scanning the bed for any blanket within reach. He spots the one hanging off the bottom of the bed and internally debates whether it's worth the effort to reach it. 

Negan lets his head fall back down on his pillow, abandoning the idea of blankets for now. Instead, his eyes travel over you appreciatively, taking in every dip and contour of your bare skin. He lets out a sigh, becoming certain that a blanket isn’t needed for now.

After all, why would he want a blanket to cover his amazing view?

[thelionandtheeagle]

Do you guys wanna see something so immensely Tim Drake it kills the man? (In a good way. Affectionately. I love him so much)

There's so much that could be said here, it's great

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 185

No one could get into contact with Constantine. 

Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something. 

And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!) 

So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer. 

“You’re not Constantine.” . 

The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.” 

He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.” 

… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…