#Veins Full Of Static

[trevlad-sounds]

For the birds 012

02.08.2024

For the Birds 012

This weeks episode of avian adventures has an exclusive from upcoming Veins Full Of Static album A House Wrapped in Sleep.

Intro 00:00 Go Outside-inkling 01:31 Willebrant-Mimosa 05:07 Shakali-Aihkimännyt 08:04 Synthbiont & Anassimandrus-Whispers from the City 15:49 Lunar Cambridge-Nute Gunray 22:49 Matthewdavid-3_WINDFISH 25:56 Mason Bee-Are You Ok? 27:45 Vessant-Aquifer 30:49 Time Rival-Star Mother 37:53 Glåsbird-Lokoteraina 50:52 Veins Full Of Static-Ceaseless Collapse 53:36 Outro 59:53

The Spotify playlist now has 74 found tracks from all the episodes:

[arcadequeerz]

Sometimes I wanna wildly yell about scribbles and then I get too nervous to and just sit here like:

[izvmimi]

ember - izuku x reader

cw: spoilers to the end of the manga. reader with vaguely described quirk. izuku and reader are married. short and sweet. a/n: establishing my own new canon, tyvm.

On an evening out in September, six months after you tie the knot with Izuku Midoriya and three years after Izuku returns to active Pro Hero duty, you find out three crucial things about him.

One, Izuku meant it when he said he loves you possibly more than life itself; two, Izuku might not have lost all of the embers of One for All, after all, and three, Izuku is a fucking idiot.

Your body feels unbelievably rigid as though you were in a car accident, and in a way, you were, and your guts should be strewn all over this sparsely populated street if not for the fact that you’re wrapped up, safe, cocooned in your lover’s protective hold, his back curved over yours, and the truck that should have crushed you both instead is partially crumpled itself at its front end, metal twisting around Izuku’s raised forearm. The two of you are panting heavily, the adrenaline coursing through your veins giving you the sensation of having just run a marathon, and he’s looking at you with frantic eyes, scanning you for safety. That long familiar green spark in the air surges around him like electricity, the glow in his green eyes, fading quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breathlessly, not out of exertion but out of shock.

“I-Izuku, you’re not…”

He still hasn’t realized what has just happened, focusing on the fact that you’re alive and okay and didn’t turn into roadkill right in front of his very eyes. Unwedging his somehow intact forearm from the grille of the truck, he turns his body completely to you, rubbing his hands over your shoulders and down your arms, and helps you rise to your feet. The static feeling emanating from him slips away second by second and your lips wobbles as you’re at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” he repeats again. He’s patting you over quickly, looking for broken bones, bruised skin, and your mind is still racing, computing what just happened and why you’re still alive.

He shouldn’t have been able to cross that distance so quickly - you were just waving to him from across the street, the road clear when you looked before crossing, and in seconds the vehicle had barreled at full speed out of nowhere; he couldn’t have moved before screaming your name fast enough, maybe years ago when you were both teenagers with impossible superpowers but not now, years later with superhuman gifts dwindled to nothing. 

He couldn’t have, but he did. 

“I-Izuku, the suit… you’re not wearing your suit,” your voice carries shakily, and as you see his eyebrows unscrunch and raise instead in surprise, he turns, and sees the stopped vehicle, the broken glass and distorted metal, a man hurriedly jumping out of the passenger seat and shakily apologizing, and finally his torn jacket sleeve and it occurs to him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m not.”

—

You watch Mei type on her computer, not bothering to try to decipher her thoughts from her facial expressions, knowing full well that she’s never been readable before. Even years after high school you find that this continues to be true, but the blank but friendly and entranced look on her face is somehow pleasant the more you think about it, and you let yourself let out the breath you’ve been holding.

It’s been just a few weeks since the night Izuku’s Quirk - at least some of it - flickered back into life for the first time, and after you’d berated him for using his literal body to shield you from a danger that could have killed you both, you’d taken the time that evening to use your own Quirk to see if something about his body had gone haywire. To both of your surprises, you’d gotten a flicker of something similar to the old him, but unsure and unwilling to get either of your hopes up, you’d decided to consult with Mei and other experts who worked with Quirk pathophysiology and augmentation (a few of which you’d taken courses with yourself years ago), and now you were back in Mei’s laboratory, trying to see if you could get to the bottom of this.

Since then, the following strange things had happened:

You’d dropped a plate and Izuku had dove for it, the wisp of a Blackwhip tendril just brushing it before it ultimately crashed to the ground, the two of you too stunned to speak.

A group of Izuku’s students heckled him as he leaned in to accept your kiss outside UA, and all of you ended up in a purple haze before you knew it.

Izuku’s midday nap on the couch found him face to face with the ceiling when you finally discovered him, and

A sudden unintentional use of Fa Jin made things very interesting in bed.

“I guess my baby’s doing a better job than I thought it would!” Mei grins. You hunch over her screen, while Izuku’s too hooked up to a tangle of wires to get a good view of the screen himself, and she compares Quirk levels from the beginning of the suit’s conception to now, a previously long-standing flat graph with a steadily rising bump. 

“A miracle,” you whisper under your breath.

“I find that personally offensive.” Mei replies, her facial expression lacking the cheek to compare to her statement as she watches Izuku watch you from behind the glass. She presses a button on the intercom; Izuku grins at you while Mei gives him the instructions to try to activate Blackwhip one more time, and you can feel warmed all the way through. 

—

Slowly but surely, over time, the Quirk levels start to recover, and you, Izuku and Mei try your best to keep it under wraps.

Of course, Katsuki finds out with direct questioning, the purple haze event showing up on an anonymous internet forum propelling him to show up at your doorstep and demand personally that Izuku tell him if he got his quirks back or not.

“We’re not sure how permanent this is, Kacchan,” he offers. Katsuki might as well spit on the ground before him in protest but you’re seated in the living room, and even Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight has enough decorum to not make a mess in someone else’s home.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Midoriya!”

“It’s not a lie!” Izuku insists, and he turns his gaze to you for backup which you swiftly provide.

“Listen, we’re not sure yet, and they’ll probably never get back to normal, but he’s doing his best.” Katsuki grimaces, which annoys you further.

“You’ll get your damn rematch, be patient.” you add, rolling your eyes. Katsuki leers, and his partner pats him on the shoulder.

“He’s just excited,” she translates for him, and Katsuki mumbles something about not needing her for translation every time which doesn’t waver her smile one bit.

“Excited to get his ass beat,” you murmur, reaching over to pour her some more tea. Izuku and Katsuki both stare at you, Izuku with nervous concern and Katsuki with irritation, and just like old days, you and Katsuki’s arguing match begins anew. 

—

As the two of you brush your teeth and prepare for bed, you do your nightly routine of checking how strong Izuku's reawakened Quirk is with your hand on his chest, and he presses his free hand over yours.

“You know, my favorite part of this is you’ll finally start to worry less.” He chuckles and squeezes your hand gently.

You let the water run and clear spittle from the sink, and gargle before you answer, your hand still captive by his, then look at him.

“To be honest, I’ll never stop worrying about you, Izuku. Even if you become God.”

But you understand what he means. You’ve had many a nightmare about suit malfunction, only a few of these you’ve shared with him, among other things that have to do with being a Pro Hero in the capacity he insists to be in. This is a small help. 

A small bit of providence.

He expected this answer, lips pulling into a smile as he takes your hand fully and pulls the fingertips to his lips to kiss them. 

“I’m glad that won’t change,” he replies.

Moments later, you’re laid in bed together, and as you both muse on the potentially altering future in quiet, love-flushed cheeks and hands intertwined, he turns to you suddenly.

“There’s one thing I’m still missing,” he says.

Your eyes refocus to him. He’s pensive now, not sad or upset, but thoughtful. You move closer to kiss him on the lips once before nodding for him to continue.

“What are you missing?”

“Danger Sense,” he says.

“But everything else is back,” you reply. He nods, letting his arm drape around your waist.

“Yeah, but I think I liked that one the most.”

You snort lightly. “Not being able to lift a train, or fly, but 'Super Anxiety' was your favorite?”

You’re making light of the issue to keep the mood from getting too heavy, but he frowns, and you frown back, apologetically. 

“Well, ‘Super Anxiety’ made it so that I knew when bad things were about to happen, and often these bad things could involve you.”

He has the tiniest scrunch to his eyebrows, one that in another situation would have compelled you to rub out with your fingertips, but now is not the time to be playful.

You twist your mouth to the side and a few more moments pass between you, before you add:

“I don’t think you need it, though.”

He raises an eyebrow, and you press a kiss to his forehead.

“All this came back because you wanted to protect me,” you remind him. “You moved without thinking, for me, as always, like you knew I needed you. That's better than Danger Sense by far.”

His face softens as he cups yours in his hands. You're thankful that you've reached him.

“Always for you,” he says.

Even if this miracle is transient and despite your best efforts, his quirk levels fall back to normal instead of steadily growing, the love he has for you, and the love you have for him, will never, ever burn out.

[delirious-donna]

tw: cockwarming and edging with one Satoru Gojo 😏

A warm hand spread your thighs further part, the slightest hint of rough edges gracing his fingertips. Such long graceful fingers and they looked especially skilful as they toyed with your shivering sensitive skin. His knuckles rolled in tandem, the joints shifting when you provide just that little resistance, having to use slightly more force to have you wide and vulnerable.

Nothing escapes that man’s attention, and the way your legs had been inching closed was halted by the warm palm on your bare flesh. Satoru kneaded, clearly enjoying the little indentations made into your yielding softness. A subtle mark of claim that only he would see, but even fully clothed, he would know they were there.

"You think I don't notice, baby?" he murmured in your ear. Satoru’s warm breath sent shivers skittering across your dewy sweat-slicked skin, lips chasing the sensation until they smacked wet against your jaw.

You had lost track of how long you had been sat here like this, impaled to the hilt on his cock. Every muscle strained for movement, ready for the pleasure only he could deliver. He was testing you—teasing you. You both loved and hated it; loved how full you felt, stuffed completely with that deliciously curved and girthy dick, but hated the absence of repeated friction and the static limbo you were imprisoned in.

Absently, you wondered if he was waiting to see if you would beg, and honestly, it wasn’t above you at this point. The feel of every ridge and vein shaping your cunt had you clenching, your body already pleading for more, betraying you.

“S-Satoru,” you whined, practically throwing your back head against his strong shoulder—a shoulder that was still clothed, unlike yours, much to your embarrassment.

The snowy-haired man at your back was still fully dressed, except for his cock that escaped through his lowered zip. You, on the other hand, had been stripped of your pretty new sundress the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“Uh-oh… using my full name? Am I in trouble, baby? Call me ‘toru, you know how much I prefer it from your sweet lips.”

Satoru ghosted his mouth over your pulse, sweeping across your shoulder. His hands touching and pawing at your sides and the bare expanse of your front. Everything was done with as little movement as possible, almost lazy strokes and pinches of your nipples, but you could feel the energy vibrating inside him even if he wasn’t keen on showing his hand quite yet.

He gifted you one—precisely one—circle of his hips and you near exploded. A hand flew to delve deep into his white locks as the knuckles of the other hand turned white with how tightly you gripped at his forearm. It almost felt like you could sense his heartbeat throbbing through his dick, twitching in an annoyingly erratic rhythm and causing your cunt to clench tighter and tighter.

“Please ‘toru, want you to fuck me! Please… please.”

He hummed softly; the weight of his celestial eyes seared into your soul despite how little you could see from your position on his lap. The menace, who you called your boyfriend, picked up his phone that lay idly on the couch cushions with an over-exaggerated sigh.

“If you can make it through my phone call with Nanamin without moving, I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

You could scream. Frustration welled up in your chest enough that you wanted to pound your fists on his chest, but goddammit you wanted to be good for him. His good girl… the one that was capable of making his breath catch in his throat when you walked in the room.

The meek nod you gave pleased him as his answering quiet chuckle brushed against your nerves.

“That’s my good girl, now—sit still.”

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Mezo Shoji x Reader 🍋 - Make Believe - VIII

Summary: You ask Shoji to pretend to be your boyfriend for a dinner with your parents.

Warnings: language, slightly OOF, virgin!Shojix virgin!reader, fem!reader, oral (both receiving), 69ing, use of his quirk, cum eating, dirty talk, full nelson, corruption kink, perv!shoji, unprotected sex, p in v

"Shhhh...." Shoji's voice was low and gruff and you couldn't be entirely sure where it came from if you were honest. Not that you cared. Fingers slipped past your kiss-swollen lips, pinching your tongue between as a form of teasing. "Hush baby, you'll wake your parents up."

The snide remark typically would have had you slapping his arm but you were in no such position now, currently perched atop his face, hips grinding desperately as his tongue worked your nerves. You were an utter mess, stringing together loud attempts on his name that almost always came out mispronounced. "M-Meh-heh-zoh-hoh!"

"Try again, sweetheart," He encouraged, a hand kneading your breast, pinching the nipple and rolling it between his fingers. "Mezo."

"M-Meh-!" You tried. "Hah, ahhh!" You melted, slurring your speech as you felt his tongue breach, slithering inside you as a disembodied pair of lips laughed in your face.

"So close, try again." He mocked, peppering kisses on your sweaty, drooly face.

"C-Can't!" you sobbed, stumbling forward, locked in place by his arms around your thighs.

"Can't never could do a damn thing," he replied, kisses trailing down your throat.

"P-Please, Meh-zo..." you finally choked out. "C-Can't take it anymore!"

"That's my girl," he purred beneath you, heart swelling with pride as you finally said his name, somewhat properly. "Knew you could do it, baby, such a good fucking girl."

"T-Thank you..." you heaved, on the verge of creaming just over his praise alone. "F-Feels so good!" You crooned, dragging your pelvis along his chin.

"Oh, I know it does, baby." Shoji cooed, thumb tracing circles on your hip. "I bet this little cunt just aches to be licked-! F-Fuck!" You put his big talk to rest with one ghostly touch to his tip, still concealed by your brother's old pajama bottoms. "B-Baby, careful there,"

"W-Wanna touch you too..." you pout, dazed and lovesick, only thinking of giving him pleasure in return.

"No need, baby, I feel good just knowing you feel good." He reassured the thought of gaining pleasure without giving it foreign to him. Deciding his answer wasn't good enough for you, you suddenly wiggled free of his grasp, taking advantage of his distraction.

Laying your tummy, and his, you nuzzled his bulge, flustering him so much, you'd think his face wasn't just buried in your pussy. 'B-Baby, really you don't have to..." He said, body feeling like static under your touch. An embarrassing gasp left his lips when you suddenly yanked the hem of his pants down, his stone member springing up, giving your face a gentle slap. "Fuck..." he breathed, relieved to be free of the constriction.

Shoji's dick was massive, to say the least. Not only did it match his stature, it surpassed any fantasy you could have dreamed up. It was long, extremely thick, with a dark pink bell end, and a throbbing vein running up the side of the shaft.

He shivered when you exposed it to the cool air, and even more so when he could feel your hot breath tickling the tip. "Y-You don't have to.." he repeated against your labia, sending intoxicating vibration through your body. "Don't force yourself..."

"I want to make you feel good, Mezo..." You whispered, finding your wits as the thought of you potentially touching him distracted him from his 'meal'. "Wanna know what you taste like..."

"B-But-" You could feel him tense under you before every single one of his muscles relaxed in unison at the sensation of your slobbery tongue licking a stripe along the vein. "Ahhh..." he sighed, head hitting your pillow as he lost the stretch to keep his neck craned. "Shit..."

Shoji had always known oral would feel amazing but this- this wasn't something he could have ever anticipated. Just your breath had him nearly in tears and now you were licking him like that much-needed lollipop after a brutal dentist appointment. His breath hitched as your licks became more and more shallow and finally your lips fount his bell, devolving into a shy suckle. "Fuck, princess..." he groaned, a duplicated hand finding the base of your skull as his fingers dug into your hair.

You continued to slurp on the tip of his cock, noting how salty his pre tasted, but recognizing that it wasn't a taste you necessarily hated. Over the span of what felt like years, you began to sink further onto him, swallowing more and more of his saft as the minutes ticked by. Shoji was eating his words, this was punishment for him teasing you so harshly. You were reducing him to a drooling mess without even trying, he couldn't imagine how unpreapred he'd be if you actually did have malicious intent like he had. "Shit..." he groaned, eyes threatening to roll back as he stayed intoxicated by your musk, his face still between your thighs. "So fucking good, baby..." he cooed nonsensically.

Finally realizing the power you had over him, you sunk your mouth lower onto him. You knew you had no shot at taking his entire vascular length, but from the sound of him unravelling beneath you, you guess you wouldn't have to. "Y-You should really learn to be more kind, M-Mezo..." you finally whispered, spitting his cock out momentarily.

This was it- this was his payback. He was dead in the water. "I-I'm sorry for teasing, princess, I-!"

Before he could pray for mercy, you refused it, pushing against his shins and planting your seat firmly against his muzzle. "E-Eat it," you demanded, cheeks burning. It sounded a lot sexier in your head. "A-And you better not stop 'til I say so."

No matter how you internally cringed at your words, they ignited a fire in Shoji's belly that not even self-gratification could put out. Before, he just wanted to hear you say his name, now he was playing for keeps. "Ditto," his voice came rumbling a low against your labia as he split it with his tongue. A hand came down and planted on the back of your head, forcing it down onto him, but not harshly. You just needed a nudge.

With that, the competition was on, who gave better head? How could make the other finish faster? Who could make the other lose control first?

You really did give it your best effort, poking your tongue out so it licked the underside of his dick as your head bobbed, hollowing out your cheeks, and kissing and fondling his arousal-swollen balls, but in the end, he did you in. You were just too overstimulated from his prior work that you didn't stand a chance, especially with how the adjusted position allowed his tongue to explore you deeper, finding that special bit of spongy tissue and abusing it.

"N-No f-fair!" you shuttered, tears slipping down your cheeks as you felt your climax begin to wash over you, even trying to push up from his face to stop it. It was futile, though, as two strong arms kept your thighs locked in place. Your eyes rolled back as the forced orgasm began to take hold, rendering you nearly brain-dead as you struggled to come up with coherent speech. "M-Meh...zoh!" You wept for him, silently thankful for his gentle thumbs caressing your skin.

"'M right here, baby, fuckin' ride it out for me..." he cooed, voice muffled for obvious reasons. "So fuckin' good for me, cumming all over my face? Say it, baby." You hardly noticed as you shrunk against him, that you'd neglected his cock, or the hand that appeared to wrap it in thick, calloused fingers. "Say 'I love cumming all over your face, Mezo,'" He, pleaded sternly. "C'mon, so fuckin' close...'

"I-I love cumming all over your pretty f-face..." you repeated, shy and fucked out without even officially being fucked yet. "M-Mezo..."

There was that word again, the one that made him lose all control in the first place. 'Pretty'. The extra adjective spelled his downfall as his head fell back against your pillow again, lips dripping with the prettiest, most desperate moans you'd ever dreamed of hearing. "F-Fuck..!" He wept, breath ragged as he fucked into his fist, hips wild and legs trembling, no care for were his milky ropes landed.

You'd have to have another bath for sure, but that wasn't on your mind yet. What was on your mind was the way you felt so incredibly shy atop him, frozen as his seed rested in strings on your skin. The pearlescent substance stuck to your knuckles, seeping into the crevices of your fingers. It congealed on your tear-soaked lashes. A spatter on your cheek and connected ropes across your lips and nose made for a beautifully shiny spider web. You felt incredibly...pretty with his jizz decorating your face, and though you didn't understand it at the time, it had awakened something in you.

"S-Shit, my bad," Shoji said sheepishly, pulling back his hand and opening his palm to assess the flood, realizing his load was largely missing from his person. "D-Did I get any on you?"

You looked back at him, love sick and flushed, showing him your own hands, clear strings sitting across the gaps between your fingers as if they strung them together. "I think so..." you answered, daze.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," he blushed, wide-eyed as he reached for your hands and frantically searched the room for anything to clean you off with. Finally, he remembered the towel on the floor and multiplied his arms until he could reach it without getting up. "Fuck, that's so gross, I'm so sorry, I-"

Nothing could have possibly prepared him for the site of you, his cum all over your face, with your fingers in your mouth licking it off. "O-Oh my God," Shoji breathed, breath hitching as post-nut clarity gave way to even more intoxicating lust. "Jesus fucking Christ, a-are you...?" He huffed, eyes now half-lidded and hungry. "Fuck, are you eating my cum, baby?"

You hadn't really thought of it that way, it just felt like the natural thing to do. "I-I guess so.." you murmured, shyly. "I-Is that weird?"

"Oh my God, no," he replied out of breath. "It's so fucking hot," He marveled. "I just have to fuck you, oh my God." It was almost embarrassing to see him fawning over you like this. He seemed so infatuated- so obsessed, chanting about how he had to have you now. "Please, princess, I need you bad, so fuckin' bad," he hissed, breath ragged as he rolled you over on your back, caging you again in his physique. "Lemme fuckin' have it, baby, please. I can't take it any more."

A small nod was all it took for him to capture you, repositioning you on his lap, back to his chest, legs held in the air by his many hands. There was no way, you thought. There was no way he was putting you in a full nelson to lose your virginity, surely not. You'd always imagined it'd be in missionary with you on your back, gazing into your lover's eyes softly as he breached. Yet here you were, doing absolutely nothing to stop him from living out his tentacle monster dreams.

"M-Mzo..." you winced as you felt his bell slide against your skin, parting you even further than the position did. "W-Will if hurt...?"

Yeah," he confessed with a love-drunk laugh. "Wish I could make it not hurt..."

You swallowed hard at his words. If he was on the giving end and even he was promising pain, you knew you were doomed. "Y-You'll stop if I say so, right?" You questioned, trying not to melt at the way him rubbing in your slick felt.

"Of course," he confirmed with bated breath.

"A-And you'll be gentle?"

"Promise," he nodded, one of his hands finding yours and hooking your pinky with his. "Ready, baby?"

With a shaky breath, you nodded as well, crying out when his tip breached. "M-Mezo!" you wailed, tears pricking your eyes. Already, onto just those swollen few centimeters, the stretch was agonizing. It crossed Shoji's mind that he probably should have fingered you first, trained your hole a bit better before stuffing his monstrous cock in, but that time was long passed. All he could do now was ease himself into you at a snail's pace, listening intently for any sign that you needed him to pull out and wait with a clenched fist to keep himself from cumming again, just by your sheer tightness alone.

"Ahh, fuck baby," he sighed, head hitting the headboard as his eyes rolled in ecstatic potential energy. "You take me so well, 'ts like you were fucking made for me..." he hissed, struggling to keep lucid as he sunk into you and bottomed out, holding oh so still to let you adjust.

You wanted to drool at his praise, but the searing pain in between your legs wouldn't allow it. You felt so incredibly full, like a balloon with too much air that pops when you try to tie it off. "So fucking tight for me, princess..." Shoji whined again. "Love the way you squeeze me so good, can't wait to fuck out this pretty little hole..."

"Mez...M-Mezo..." you heaved, head having long since fallen limp against his shoulder. His filthy pillow talk was finally beginning to melt your nerves. Though it wasn't enough to kiss the pain away, it made for a delicious distraction. "T-Talk to me..."

His muscles relaxed a bit, finding you asking for more. It let him know that, just because you weren't enjoying yourself at this moment, you wanted to give the pain time to pass, you wanted to keep going. "Do you one better," he smirked, bringing a dupli-mouth between your legs, its tongue dragging slobbery, soothing licks up your entire sex, not caring if he got a taste of his own cock- it wouldn't be the first time. Meanwhile, his true lips pepper kisses over every bit of skin they could reach, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "My God, you're such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like this. Fuck, you've no idea how long I've waited for this. Baby, fucking you is my wildest dream come true..."

You hadn't even realized it when you began to rock your hips against his, so entranced by his words and his warm tongue easing your aching heat, you'd lost focus of the penetration almost entirely. "Atta girl..." Shoji exhaled through gritted heat, breath tickling your ear as he felt you begin to move, no matter how minuscule. "Doing okay, love?" He aksed, planting absent-minded kisses across your shoulder. "Tell me what you need, baby, I'm all yours."

"G-Go slow..." you finally consent, much to his delight.

"Anything for you, princess," he grants, shallowly rolling his hips up into yours, making sure his strokes are long, slow, and thoughtful. The exhaustion and overstimulation are almost enough to lull you to sleep, your eyes closing as if the lids were made of lead. "Shit, you're so fucking sweet, baby..." he muttered, uttering anything kind that popped into his head.

A disembodied eye slithered under his cocked knee to see between your legs, witnessing a sight that made his mouth water. Steadily, his cock disappeared within you and dragged back out, covered in a slick sheen each and every time. "Oh my God, so fuckin' pretty..." he remarked at the pornographic scene, eye occasionally glancing up to revel in your fucked out, overwhelmed expression.

To Shoji, you were a painting- one of those Renaissance ones that always depicted Greek orgies and women with soft tummies. He was Hades: dark and corrupt, and you were his Persephone: innocent and perfect and so very fertile. You were ripe for the taking and he was taking everything you had.

As is the natural progression of things, neither of you noticed much as slow and steady turned to winning the race. You were a drooling, incoherent mess, no longer even attempting words, not even his name as he bounced you on his cock, coming undone himself. He was all grunts and embarrassingly desperate sighs as he pumped into you, fingernails leaving dozens of crescent moons on your skin.

"Fucking shit baby," he hissed, face falling into your shoulder, pearly teeth finding sweet flesh to anchor to. "Oh my fucking God, gonna paint this little pussy white, I swear to fucking God, I will!" He rambled obscenely, gripping onto any bit of you he could find with all six arms for dear life.

"Please, please, please," was all you could muster, as you chanted for him to bust inside you, and to be honest, you would have let him in your stupor. "Cum inside, cum inside," you begged, feeling your second coming breach the horizon.

"You want me to fucking fill this little thing to the brim, baby?" He grunted, voice hoarse and beastly. "You wanna take all my fucking cum in this pretty cunt?" You muttered something akin to an 'Mhm!' and his speed boosted again, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. "Fucking say it baby, fucking beg for my cum!"

"Please, Mezo, fill me up! Gimme your cum!" you wailed, magically finding speech again as your second climax hit, crashing against you so violently it left you sore and with tears streaming down your face. "F-Fuck, Mezo, I'm cumming!"

"O-Oh, fuck-!" Shoji sputtered, regaining self-control at the last possible second, lifting you off him as his cock slipped out, just in time to toss ropes into the air, twitching as it did. "Fucking shit, baby, oh fuck," He panted, voice high and needy. Exhausted, he let you back down, resting you against his chest again, ignoring the icky feeling of his jizz sliding against his skin between the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, both on the brink of drifting off. Finally, he caught his breath enough to say something. "This isn't just the sex talking when I say," he paused, heaving. "I've never felt any more attraction and overwhelming love for anyone than I feel for you right now." You weren't in any shape to respond just yet, so you let him talk. "I don't want you to think I only said all that earlier because I wanted to get in your pants, I really do like you..." He confessed with surprising conviction for a man on the edge of sleep. "You mean everything to me, (Y/N) and I don't care what people say when we get home. I'd be proud for people to know we're together, I want to be with you."

Shoji continued to ramble and you just listened, heart swelling at his passion for you. "Please, give me a chance to make you happy beyond this," he finally begged, officially asking you out. "Don't send me back home with nothing to show for our time together, don't pretend this was nothing, anything but that."

"M-Mezo...I..." you hesitated, weighing the consequences of each option.

"I love you, (Y/N), and I want us to be together, achieve our goals, become heroes, grow old- together..." He said, trembling beneath you with anticipation. "Please, say you love me too, I know you do."

"I-I..." Finally, the dam broke and tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "I love you too, Mezo, I always have..." You smile weakly, glancing up and pressing a kiss to his lips. "You're intelligent, brave, strong, beautiful," you gush tiredly. "What's not to love?"

"So you'll be mine?" he asked, muscles relaxing at your confession.

"Of course I will, I never had a chance at not loving you."

[valentine-cafe]

Can I please order the mango pancakes?

I just want Reader teaching Hǎitāo how to ride him. Lots of teasing but also reassurance and praise please!

˖⁺. “ ride it ” : 

﹙ bttm grim reaper x top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9948e haitao x male reader  !! 🍒 : ﹙ grim reaper ˖ mortician ˖ necromancer character ﹚

you teach your typically confident boyfriend how to ride you

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ fingering ˖ riding ˖ teasing ˖ nipple play | wc : 1.8k 

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“Telling me a cocky bastard like you hasn’t ridden dick before?”

The swat to your black tshirt makes you chuckle. Maroon eyes that typically shone with ego to compliment his general air of confidence now shimmer with a foreign tepidness. Certainly not an unwelcomed one. It stirred humour in your soul to see how pathetically your boyfriend looked at you. All helpless in your lap with the dim light of the idle television that has him backlit.

“Are you going to keep running your mouth like a ghoul or - ah,” Hǎitāo’s words lilt into a whine. Your fingers cut his rudeness right off with a reminder of their presence. Quick and tempered thrusts against that one spot. The swirl of your digits and the slow massage into the bundle of nerves sends his back into a pretty arch.

You bite on your smile and tilt your head with that shit-eating grin he usually adorns. The muscles along your fingers flex as they effortlessly piston up into his clenching hole. They withdraw with a small pop! and you instead circle your lube-lathered fingers around his rim.

While you will not be able to see it in its full glory, the idea of how he’ll stretch and clench so beautifully around your awaiting cock sends a thrum through the veins. As much as you would love to finger-fuck him all night long and behold those dollish tears in the corners of his eye. . . your dick weeps its own tears to split him open.

Such a needy thing you are in your own right.

“You should watch your mouth pretty boy. ‘les you want it to occupy my dick instead?” His moans of protest flow through the room while your fingers punctuate with rough pumps at an angle you know will have him cross-eyed soon enough. You lean into the grey leather of the sofa to get a better view. “Awww but you don’t want that right? Y’wanna ride my dick like a good boy.”

Your other thumb reaches to circle his cherry-tip. The callouses of your print roughly drag along his slit and you can only chuckle at the spurt that coats it in no time. As though his poor dick is crying for you to give him yours. To bounce him on your lap like a ragdoll.

Who are you to deny?

His black trousers graze down his pale skin in the matter of seconds. Hǎitāo’s yelp turns into another whine at the swift spank to his ass. The way you grab at the fat of it and grip tight. Grind him down to your awaiting bulge.

“You want this baby?”

“Y-Yes for fuu-ah-cks sakes -”

The click of your tongue joins the clink of your belt. It takes only a few shuffles of fabric and the noiseless static of the tv until you are there. Cock standing proud and ready to split your boyfriend open as you always do.

As if on cue, Hǎitāo’s hips steer downwards. Like a man starved. Eager for its weekly-dose of stretching and cumming. Alas your hands lock on him like restraints. He is baffled by the cruelty of them - as though they are guards keeping him from his beloved! How dare.

“You’re being a prick.” The dryness of his voice is quite the contrast to the slickness of lube and precum. You take no offense to his gritted teeth and only swat his thigh. Despite his clearly frustrated tone, you answer back in a gentleness that soothes the flames of his desire.

“Easy baby. . . I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The small of his back becomes a resting place for your fingers. They stroke slowly while your free hand grips at the softness of his hip. The last thing you wish is to bring him pain halfway through. Have to stop when you’re both on the brink of mindless release so that he can gulp down his scoliosis meds.

While his need is great and his walls are begging to have you pound them silly, he relents. Allows you to ease him down and tenderly spread his ass open for your tip. As though you were prepping him first-time-yoga session rather than about-to-rearrange-his-guts.

Nevertheless, his head falls onto your shoulder with hushed moans. The feel of you filling him up has always been something he is addicted to. The darkness of the room consumes him just as the pleasure does - and he can all but sigh blissfully as you languidly ease him down.

The pulse of his walls do little to aid your restraint. What is restraint when faced with his insatiable ass? You know no definition. Not when your balls finally hilt to his soft cheeks. Not when he’s panting into your neck with kisses to soothe his own pleasure. It’s as if he wants you to shove him over the arm of the sofa and fuck him wild rather than teach him how to ride. Surely he knows what he does to you, right?

“Fuuckk baby, how am I s’possed to teach you when you’re this tight?” You give a few shallow thrusts to emphasize. If he squeezes around you one more time you are not sure how long you’ll last. So you brace yourself on his soft thighs with fingers buried in to hold yourself togther.

“Who’s th-the impatient - hah- one now?”

Brat.

The deep groan that rumbles in your throat will be the only way to sate the growing urge in your cock. To fuck him quiet.

Instead you tut. “Be nice.” Palms flatten over his pale flesh and your back meets the sofa as you lean back further. Your hips steady a small grind up. Once, twice, just to loosen him up a bit. Before you ease yourself into the grey leather and give a small nod of your head.

“Now. . . gonna move your hips down like - this -” the rhythm that your hands set on his hips is one his skillfully follow. For a moment you want to call him a liar with the way he rolls his hips down into yours so well. The slow, tantalizing rocks that leave you breathless. Like he’s trying to make you sing prayers to his name. “Yeah - that’s it. . . ‘atta boy.”

You aid with the first few pumps against his ass. Only because you enjoy the soft plap plap plap that fills the living room. It will engrave itself into the walls. So that whenever sit in this very seat, you’ll remember this pretty little thing in your lap.

It won’t take long for your hands to move on to other matters once he has a hang of it. The rock of his hips links with his soft hiccups and gasps. Your palms itch to make him moan and so distract themselves with the hem of his white shirt. Fingers bully their way into the fabric and roll them up over his chest. So that you can behold his nipples that perk so sweetly.

Your mouth joins the mix. You are all tongue, pinches and licks once you are on his chest. The sparks of pleasure well in his tummy and motivate him to buck down a bit faster. The sofa greets the quicker movement with a whining of its own.

“Eager thing,” you gulp a groan. Your tongue is far too busy swirling around his right nipple to negate his pace while your fingers tweak at his left. “Yeah. . . just like that pretty boy. Doing s’well for me. Fuck.”

At last Hǎitāo moans. It sounds like heaven to your ears. Your hips race to worship. The claps of his skin create a symphony to your joined moans and groans. Every heavy smack of your balls against his has him clenching around your cock. It thrums through the veins and sends your grunts along his slick nipples.

“M-Mngh - ah- god that’s good.” His slurs to your ear are only hightened with moans as his body follows yours as though it’s a competition. Hips clap down on your own and his skin slides against yours in the most sensual way. Most sinful of ways.

Oh you wish you could see it. See the way your cock is making its home within his tight walls. How his bounces squirt the slick of lube and precum out. The lewd sight that would soon have you nutting before him. Alas you would rather fuck a few rounds of cum out of him before you even dream of releasing yourself.

“Yeaah, feel good? Feels good riding me huh pretty boy? Taking it like you’re the best?”

He kisses at your grin. Your tongue shoots into his mouth so that you swap spit and clutch at one another with a growing desperation. You know this frequency of moans and whines. The sudden sloppiness of his bounces as he kisses you so needily.

If not that - then the way his head throws back after he shimmied his way down all the way to your hilt. The rough, mindless swirls of his hips that glue your eyes to the scene below. You’ll have to choose - watch his poor dick squirt in the next for seconds or the way his face will twist with pleasure.

“C-Cumming - ‘m cummin-!” He cries. Seems you settle for both.

The spurt of his cum delights your vision and you have to force your gaze up to his face. Just in time to witness the roll of his maroon eyes. Oh they cross so beautifully. You simply have to snatch up his waist and fuck into him rapidly. Have that small whine turn into an ‘ah-ah-ah!’

“B-Baby please - hngh,” his hands clap down onto your shoulders. Fist at your shirt as his head tips forward and he moans at the endless rocking. The rough bounces and smacks of skin that shoot him closer to a second orgasm within the matter of minutes.

You can only grin. Reach up and cup his face as though you are so sorry for what you are doing to him. He knows better by the shine in your eyes. The lowness to your voice.

“Told you I was gonna teach you to ride, right?” You grunt through a cruel, breathless laugh. Hips not letting up for even a second.

“Well class’ still in session. Sorry gorgeous boy. Bounce that pretty ass.”

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[lowkeycasanova]

unspoken boundaries

zoro x reader

Plot- a young bartender gives all her attention to zoro

The dimly lit bar buzzed with he low murmur of conversations and clinking glasses. You and Zoro settled onto your stools at the bar, the warm light from the hanging fixture cast a cozy glow over the counter. It wasn’t too often y’all went out, so you savored these moments- a break from the chaos and battles. Just the two of you.

But the moment the bartender approached, your stomach tightened. The young woman's gaze swept over you briefly - so brief, you might have missed it- before her eyes locked on Zoro with a smile that was a little too wide, a little too eager.

"Hi there. I'm Vera, I'll be taking care of you tonight." she said, her voice lifting. But it wasn't directed at the two of you. It was for Zoro.

Her smile didn't falter as she stood up straighter. "What would you like?" she asked, her tone sounding personal.

Maybe Zoro didn't seem to notice. "A Manhattan." he said simply, then added, "And a blackberry mule for her." His head tilted towards you, his tone casual but clear. He wasn't ordering just for himself.

Vera pressed her mouth into a form smile but she nodded, quickly scribbling the order before leaving. You shifted in your seat, your chest tightening. It shouldn't have bothered her. You knew Zoro wouldn't give her any attention. But her blatant disregard for you was glaring. Not even a "you two" to acknowledge your presence.

When Vera returned, hands full, she placed Zoro's Manhattan in front of him with a coy smile then handed over your blackberry mule without so much as a glance. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to focus on Zoro as he raised his glass to you with a smirk. It warmed your heart, but not enough to drown out the irritation that lingered.

You two eventually fell into easy conversation, laughing at small things, but every so often, Vera reappeared. Each time, her words aimed solely at Zoro like you weren't even there.

"Everything good here?"

"We're fine." he replied curtly.

But she lingered. "That scar is something. I bet there's a good story behind it." she said with a playful smile.

"Yeah." was all he said, not offering anything more.

She didn't seem deterred. She then starting mentioning his shoulders and how he "must work out a lot". At this point, you didn't hear all of what she said. The grip on your glass tightened and you stared down at the condensation pooling beneath it. You hated confrontation but it was getting harder to keep quiet. Did Zoro notice at all? Or was he just so oblivious that it just rolled off him?

But Zoro wasn't oblivious. Aggravation tunneled through his veins with every sugary-sweet word Vera threw his way. He would stare back at her, bored, but trying to keep his face neutral, but the simmering annoyance was harder to suppress. He didn't say anything as he damn sure wasn't going to entertain this nonsense. But the disrespect towards you was a line that she was dangerously close to crossing.

When Vera came back yet again her voice drifted to his ears like static. Zoro didn't even bother listening. Instead, his large hand reached out and grabbed a hold to your stool.

Despite you only being mere inches away, he tugged it closer before you could react. The stool scraped against the floor as he pulled you flush against his side, close enough that your legs touched. You glanced at him, surprised, but the soft squeeze of his hand on your thigh calmed your nerves.

He looked back at Vera, not saying a word but the message was clear. Vera faltered, her face flushed with a hint of red beneath his gaze. "Let me know if you need anything else." This time, her eyes flickered toy you, the first acknowledgement she'd given you all night, before she made her way to the other side of the bar.

You stared at Zoro, your heart pounding. "What was that?" you asked him.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink like it was no big deal. "Nothing. Just figured you should sit closer."

[tojisun]

he calls you after every mission – you never told him that you knew his secret, afraid that he’d stop. afraid that you would lose the only line of confirmation you have about his safety. so when he calls, you gleefully pretend you don’t have a clue of its purpose and let him take full control of the conversation.

“hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs without fail, making your cheeks burn and your lungs constrict. he’s always so breathy when the line connects, softly panting onto the mic as he grunts out your name.

for a long time, you thought it was because he’s exhausted and spent, and that he’s using the last reserves of his energy to call you. but there is something so intimate, so familiar, in the way he grumbles your name – drawling out the sounds until they curl on his tongue, all grave whimpers and rough rumbles.

it took you a while to realize it is not exhaustion that coats his voice but quiet pleasure; thrumming euphoria peaking into his orgasm.

you remember gasping out loud at the realization, the sound of it making him moan. he growled out your name, murmuring soft praises that made your stomach clench in desire. you found yourself playing along, coaxing him into his orgasm as you told him that you love him. how you love him.

what happened never got brought up, but you found yourself falling into the new routine. loving it, even.

“hey to you too, baby,” you reply, your voice petering into a sigh as you stretch on your bed, your tensed muscles turning soft as the tension uncoils from your limbs.

you hear rustling from the other end, easily followed by the sound of zippers getting undone. you pretend that your cheeks aren’t on fire as want fills you up from the inside.

“you were asleep?” he asks. you fondly roll your eyes at the obvious prompting.

“about to,” you say. “wearin’ your shirt tonight, hope you don’t mind.”

you know he would never but you also know how much he loves it when you tell him that you’re wearing his clothes, effectively branding you as his.

possessive motherfucker.

“s’all y’rs,” he whispers. “tell me how y’r day went, sweetheart.”

so you do: you narrate your day animatedly, changing the pitch of your voice on occasions and being rewarded with his sultry hums that urge you to go on. you drawl out his name when he stops talking altogether only to shuffle on your bed when his grunts have gone a little deeper, a little gruffer.

you can’t help the pooling desire steeping in your veins as your hand slides down to paw at your damp heat. you go still when your hitched gasp pierced through, the following silence from the both of you ringing amidst the static.

then, “finally touchin’ y’rself, aren’t you, love?”

oh-

— toji, ghost (riley)

[skimmingmilk]

"If it helps, one of the many scenarios my brain likes to twist around is imagining Sonic's perspective of No Cracks In A Closed Loop (and I adore Tails getting to be a badass and pulling off the impossible, too- my brain just likes to spin on the angst sometimes)" - @manynerdthings

A/N: So I was inspired...

I think it's safe to say this helped a lot xD Thank you, manynerdthings!

This is a continuation of my fic "No Cracks in a Closed Loop"

No Cracks in a Closed Loop — Sonic's Side

"Sonic."

That single word—no, just the voice alone—was enough to cut through the adrenaline rush as pure chaos energy sang through his veins and ignited every nerve with its spark. In a flash of light and sound, Super Sonic punched a hole through the Starfall-titan-wanna-be by using his own body as a projectile. A cocky grin cut across his muzzle as it wobbled in place, setting its sights on him instead of the city it had been about to level; its laser cannons aimed directly at the fault line.

This fight wouldn't last twenty seconds. They'd already won.

"What's up, partner?" Sonic said into the comm as he shot skyward.

The streak of gold drew the mech's cannon higher, until it cleared the tips of skyscrapers and nearby mountaintops by the time it shot at him. The laser's heat didn't even singe his fur, firing at full power into the stratosphere instead of drilling deep into the crust of the planet. It zinged past the satellite Tails was communicating from, but Super Sonic's gaze didn't linger on it for more than half a second—already more than certain it was out of the laser's range. Speeding through the air, he whirled around towards the mech for his next move. He was going to cyloop Eggman's newest addition to his junk pile right off its feet. 

Swerving down in a sharp arc, Super Sonic avoided the next blast while he swung around to try and circle it. It's clawed hand swiped at him before he could complete his first circuit. He shot straight up before it could catch him, homing attacking it in the face instead.

The comm was still quiet. Tails must've swapped to their own channel. Super Sonic flew backwards, putting both the titan and the distant satellite in his line of sight. Whatever he had to say, he didn't want anyone else to hear it.

Super Sonic's brow furrowed as a barrage of bullets opened up on him. He weaved between the hundreds of projectiles glinting dangerously in the sunlight, but his chaos energy and speed worked in tandem, as fluidly as a dance, while he searched for another opening to try the cyloop again.

He could beat this thing without it, sure, but it was the fastest way to take it down.

"Tails? Still with me, bud?" Super or not, Sonic still spared a second to check in, static ringing in his ears as he burst through the center of the mech's chest plate for a shortcut.

"I'm here," Tails answered, but his voice sounded faint, like the feedback was drowning him out. "Sorry, I…" Super Sonic started his cyloop. "I just wanted to—" He was halfway around. "I'm sorry—"

Sonic closed the loop. A burst of chaos energy swelled up with a deafening boom. The air rippled with the force of it in great gusts of wind that rocked the trees and the grass of the nearby hills. Waves rose up in the bay, their white caps scraping the bottom of the golden bridge that marked the edge of the sea. The fake titan lifted into the air, sparks crackling off its metal casing as its system overloaded. Super Sonic didn't give it a second to recalibrate itself.

Faster than anyone could see, he smashed into it on all sides. A tiny mote of golden light against the towering behemoth, but it struck every weak point, fried every circuit, as the chaos energy pressed in on it from the outside. Metal crunched and caved it on itself, contorting into a twisted configuration until it no longer resembled a machine.

A cheap imitation of the ancients' attempts to defend themselves, designed only to destroy instead of protect.

Super Sonic grabbed onto mech's arm—or maybe its leg, it was hard to tell at this point—as the cyloop's effect faded, catching it before it crushed Westopolis. He swung it around and around, gritting his teeth as he built up momentum and set his sights on the ocean out ahead of them. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

Super Sonic let go.

The mech's remains were flung through the air, over the coastline and beyond the bridge that cut off the bay from the sea. It crashed into the water, the ocean spray shooting up into the air in a tower of mist once it hit the surface. The waves rolled aggressively towards the coastline, but ultimately broke apart in the bay before they could do too much damage. Some millionaires might have to replace a yacht or two, but that wasn't Sonic's problem.

As he dusted his hands off, he could finally acknowledge the warning bells Tails's last words to him had set off. "Hey, what was that, bud? I didn't catch—"

Super Sonic turned towards the satellite, addressing it like he would Tails, but it was gone. Instead a cloud of smoke filled the space where the satellite had been not ten seconds ago. Metal shards and fire rained upon the bay. Everything in pieces. Everything gone.

His comm was in chaos. Unintelligible voices shouted over one another in a cacophony of white noise that was already fighting a losing battle to the ringing in his ears. But he still noticed one voice was missing. He couldn't hear it.

He hadn't heard any of it.

Over the sonic boom of his cyloop and the screeching of metal as he demolished the titan, Sonic hadn't heard the satellite explode.

The satellite his little brother was on.

He'd been trying to tell him something.

He'd been trying to tell him something before a satellite exploded with him on it.

"I'm sorry."

Tails. 

Super Sonic shot off like a bullet, speeding towards the black cloud of smoke and smoldering debris like there was even a chance—

No. There had to be a chance—

"I just wanted to—I'm sorry—"

Why? What happened? What did you do, Tails?

He hadn't even properly seen him off before he left. Tails had been trying to hack into Eggman's satellite remotely while Sonic was out chasing after the faux titans. He told them all about his plan to board the satellite and everyone agreed it sounded like the right call, so long as he could do it quickly. They needed to disrupt the signal, after all, and Tails was their best shot.

That was what he'd said, wasn't it? "You're our best shot, Tails. I believe in you, partner."

Their best shot, but not the only one. Not if it meant this.

Nothing was worth this.

Sonic didn't need to breathe while super, but his lungs still burned twin holes in his chest as his own nervous system caught fire. Golden sparks flicked off his quills as he raced through the air. Fiery eyes frantically scanned each scrap of metal that fell, but they must've already been irritated from the smoke because they burned and blurred with the rest of the world around him—

"—onic, wait! Come back! Sonic!"

One voice.

Super Sonic stopped. He stopped so fast and so suddenly, it felt like his own soul completely missed the memo. Like everything inside him continued to hightails it towards where Tails had been without him, leaving him empty. Hollow. Cold.

A vacuous space in the center of himself where there'd once been something. 

The chaos energy inside him didn't know what to do with that.

With so much… nothing.

Stunned, he could only float in place for a stupid second until he remembered he'd stopped for a reason. With a sharp turn, his stare locked onto a splash of orange amidst the blotchy colors of the rest of the world bleeding into one another. Like he was still moving too fast to see clearly. Like he couldn't catch up to himself.

"Sonic…" Tails's voice broke like it had on the comm, but it wasn't with pain guilt fear regret static.

Vision clearing, Sonic could see him now. At the edge of one of the hills overlooking Westopolis and the bay. Tails just rubbed at his nose with a sheepish sort of grin, like the explosion was a minor miscalculation. A hiccup. My bad, he could hear him saying, like he was standing in the middle of his workshop, covered in soot and singed fur, one hand on his hip and a fire extinguisher at his feet.

Like he was fine.

Like he hadn't been incinerated in the fiery inferno smoldering above them.

Tails lowered his hand, eyes shining as they looked up at him, reflecting the very sky Super Sonic was caught in as the satellite's remains fell all around him. He'd been on that satellite. Just seconds ago, Sonic had been so sure of it.

He'd been so sure he'd lost him…

Then Tails opened his arms to him and laughed.

All at once Sonic crashed back into himself, chest heaving with a sharp inhale as his heart lurched forward. 

Faster than a blink, Super Sonic barrelled into Tails and sent them toppling down the hillside. They smacked hard against the ground, but Sonic took the brunt of the fall even with the world spinning around them. His arms encircled Tails tightly, one hand protecting the back of his head while the other braced the small of his back as they tumbled and whooped like a pair of idiots. Pure joy radiated through him, burning brighter than the chaos energy coursing through his quills. It knocked the emeralds right out of him. The seven gems fell into the grass around them as the two mobians eventually rolled to a stop.

Sonic clutched Tails to him, shaking with breathless laughter as he felt his little brother hug him back just as tightly. "I'm here," Tails was saying, and it took a minute to realize he'd been repeating the words while Sonic's hands were trembling. "I'm here. It's okay, big bro. I'm here. I’m here."

"And you say I'm the one that's gonna give you a heart attack," Sonic wheezed, not bothering to give himself room to breathe if it meant letting go for even a second.

"Can't let you have all the fun." Tails smoothed his hands over Sonic's spines to try and settle him, his touch purposeful and grounding. "Deep breaths, big bro. You're gonna pass out."

"Nuh-uh," he argued, but filled his lungs with his next inhale anyway, then let all the air ease out of him.

"That's it. There ya go," Tails encouraged, but Sonic couldn't help his snort of indignation at being coddled and pushed away from him. 

Except Tails just tightened his grip; fingers curling in his fur like they'd be forced apart if he didn't. He hid his face in the crook of Sonic's neck, his breaths coming only a little too fast. But his hands were shaking, too, and his twin tails wound around them both as if they were enough to protect them from the next threat. 

Sonic didn't pull away. He just sat back, the eleven-year-old practically in his lap, and rested his hand atop Tails's head.

"Gave me a real scare there, pal," he said, voice low and gentle as he smoothed out his fur, picking at the grass and brambles they were both covered in.

"…Scared me, too."

Sonic's heart clenched, the open admission like a bludgeon to his protective instincts, even if his pride assured him Tails could handle it. After all, the proof had all but climbed into his lap. But now that he was looking at him—really looking at him—he could see his fur was mussed up from more than just a tumble at supersonic speed. A streak of blood stained his fur on his shoulder and there was a lump near the center of his back that filled Sonic with an angry fire hot enough to burn through the atmosphere when he so much as brushed against it with his fingers. 

Tails didn't flinch when he grazed it, but his muscles gave an involuntary spasm that rippled beneath his fur and his hold on Sonic tightened. It was enough to quell the roiling rage to a simmer. Something he could stick a lid on without worrying it would boil over if left unchecked. It wasn't what Tails needed from him right now.

But Sonic still wanted some answers.

"What happened up there?" he asked. 

Tails shook his head. "Just a bit of a closer call than I thought it'd be. But I'll be okay. I am okay."

Sonic instinctively bristled, prepared to be shut out of whatever it was he'd gone through. "Tails—"

"I'll tell you someday," he promised, pressing his paw over Sonic's heart. "I mean it. But right now we've got a lot of Eggman's mess to clean up. There's still six other titans out there and I'm sure everyone else is worried."

Sonic sighed, as exasperated as he could manage when he was still just glad this kid was alive. "Gonna hold you to that," he threatened, ruffling his fur to muss it up on purpose. "You owe me. Nearly shocked the Chaos Emeralds right outta my system."

"Says Mr. Guy-Who-Loves-Adventure," Tails teased as he pushed himself up to stand. "You should be used to it by now."

Sonic snorted when he was offered a hand up, but he took it nonetheless. "When I go gray early, I'll know exactly who to blame."

"Don't worry. I'll help you dye your quills, old man," Tails snickered, but it broke off with a wince as a sharp twinge ran through his back.

Sonic was quick to lay a supportive hand at his hip to steady him. "Look who's talking. At this rate, you're gonna be right there with me setting the record for the world's youngest old timers."

Tails sent him a look, but accepted the help nonetheless as he leaned his weight against him. "Did you really have to knock us all the way down the hill like that?"

"Heh. Well, in my defense, wasn't exactly thinking straight." Sonic scratched at his nose, giving him a not-so-subtle onceover. "Didn't bang ya up too bad, did I?"

"Nah. I'll bounce back," Tails assured him, giving him a pat on the back.

"You always do," Sonic agreed warmly as they took a few steps in tandem so they could start collecting the Chaos Emeralds on their way back up the hill while Tails alerted everyone to their status on his comm and checked in on everyone else as well.

Sonic just listened, taking in the rise and fall of his voice, his steady assurances and sighs of relief to hear that the world hadn't fallen apart in his absence. Even if it very nearly did. As far as Sonic was concerned, anyway.

But he was okay now. That was what mattered. And whatever it was that happened on that satellite—whatever reason Tails had for calling him seconds before disaster—he would trust that his little brother would come to him when he was ready. Because he'd be there for him. No matter what.

Keeping his arm looped around Tails’s waist even after they made it back up the hill, Sonic looked up at the smoke still fading from the sky. He tightened his hold on him. It felt like another lifetime, like another him had first seen the explosion and feared the worst. Tails followed his gaze, quiet again with all the calls taken care of and winded from the uphill climb. Through his labored breaths, there was the slightest tremor that traveled from his chest to where he stood pressed against his brother.

"…Scared me, too."

 "Hey, whatever happened up there," Sonic broke the silence, his voice drawing Tails back down beside him. "Whatever you did, I'll bet it was seriously way past cool." He glanced over at him, waiting to catch his eye before giving him a wink.

All too easily, Tails grinned up at him, the shape of his smile the spitting image of his brother's. "Way past is definitely one way to put it."

———

Five years later…

———

"You've been quiet all day, partner. Something going on in that big brain of yours?"

Everyone else had split off for the night. Team Dark vanished sometime after lunch, after Rouge once again tricked Shadow into accompanying her, and Team Chaotix had an appointment for their next case. Amy took Cream back home to Vanilla while Tangle and Whisper left to help Jewel out with some Restoration business.

Which left just Sonic and Tails lounging on the couch; the former picking up where Vector had left off in the game he'd been playing, tapping away at the controller while the latter watched.

Tails hummed in acknowledgement, so Sonic let him have a minute of quiet to collect his thoughts. He picked at one of Whisper's cinnamon muffins, crumbs scattering across the coffee table, but he didn't eat any of it. He hadn't had much of an appetite since slinking out of his lab earlier that afternoon.

It probably had something to do with the quiet and the way he'd been kinda clingy. Sonic had planned on going for a run as soon as Tails retreated back to his lab to tinker with whatever gadgets he had tucked away back there, but he seemed pretty content to stay curled up on the couch beside him. Still, Sonic could adapt. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and slumped back into the cushions as he wandered aimlessly around in a game he couldn't remember owning.

"Do you remember that time you went up against Eggman's seven fake titans?"

Sonic let out a low whistle. "Boy, is that a blast from the past. What about it?" 

When Tails didn't immediately continue, Sonic pressed the pause button, then shifted against the cushion to sit up and face his not-so-little-anymore bro. The sixteen-year-old fox tore his gaze from the screen to watch him instead, eyes bright from television's glow. Looking at him like that, for a split second, Sonic could still see the insecure, little fox kit he used to be in the way his shoulders hunched up as if to make himself smaller. To take up less space in the world.

Sonic draped one arm along the back of the couch, leaving space for him to lean into if he wanted it. No matter how big he got, there'd always be space for him.

Tails scooted closer and rested his head against Sonic's arm. "I needed to disrupt the satellite signal powering the Chaos Emerald vaults, but Eggman locked me out of the remote connection so I had to access it directly—"

"On the actual satellite," Sonic interjected, fingers drumming against the back of the couch. "I remember."

Tails released a long exhale. "Well, he set a trap. A way to slow me down so I wouldn't be able to unlock the emeralds for you in time. The same code that would disrupt the satellite's signal would also cause it to self-destruct. Eggman banked on me having enough self-preservation that I wouldn't engage it without trying to disable that function first."

"But you set it off anyway."

"I set it off anyway," Tails confirmed with a decisive nod. "It was the outcome with the highest percentage of saving people. The fastest way to help you guys. I thought I could get out in time. I should've gotten out in time," his voice lowered, eyes distant as if he was reliving the moment right there on their couch. "But I couldn't. Not on my own. I needed… help."

Sonic tried to follow him there, even if he didn't much like to relive that day in his waking hours. "So you called me."

"Not… exactly." Tails sat up straighter so he could look him in the eye. "I knew you'd come get me if I asked, but then countless lives would've been lost if the titans had gone on unchecked, even if just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes that's all it takes…" Tails's fist clenched as he dropped his hardened gaze to his lap. "I made the call to initiate the self-destruct in order to save people. I couldn't take that back. I couldn't take you away from them. Not again."

A younger Sonic would've snapped at him—would've argued over the value of his life with him until he wasn't the only one blue in the face. But at twenty-three, Sonic had fought more of these battles than he cared to count and never once walked away a winner. So he sat back, held his tongue, and let Tails explain himself.

"I called you to say goodbye," his voice lowered to a whisper, "I wanted to give you that, at least.”

He'd had a feeling. It wasn't one he dwelled on freely, but sometimes the thought wandered in uninvited. Moreso during the first couple of months after the incident, when everything was still fresh and closer to their present.

Before Sonic could respond, Tails pressed forward. "But then an older version of myself traveled through time with two Chaos Emeralds to save me. He said it was the only way. Because at the time, only the two of us knew what transpired on the satellite. We created a temporal paradox, a loop without a proper origin, but as long as it was contained between the two versions of me, nothing could disrupt it. That's why I couldn't tell you before. I wasn't sure… I didn't know if the future version of myself had told you what happened and if that would open up possibilities in the time stream that would botch the encounter entirely." Tails lifted his gaze to seek out Sonic's again, and he could see the eleven-year-old sitting in front of him like it was that very same day. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

"Nothing to apologize for, bud. I get it. I wouldn't want to mess up the time stream for that particular moment either." Sonic shifted the arm draped along the couch so he could cup the back of Tails's head, idly ruffling the fur there. "But if you're telling me all this now…" he drawled, moving to scritch behind Tails's ear. "Charmy wasn't the one who swiped Shadow's Chaos Emerald earlier, was he?"

Tails shrugged, muzzle quirking up on one side. "When he showed up with it today, I just had this feeling that it was time to make my move…" Tails explained. "I've been feeling it for a couple weeks now, to be honest. I had all the equipment I'd had on me that day and I looked close enough to how I remembered. I knew I probably had to go back soon. Just needed everything to align so no one would interfere. Today seemed good…"

Sonic tilted his head as Tails trailed off, his eyes still a little distant. "Well, you made it back in one piece, didn't you? Mission accomplished."

"Yeah. Mission accomplished," he echoed, but whatever was on his mind continued to fester. "I thought I made a mistake."

"Hm?"

"There were only three seconds left," Tails whispered. "I thought I messed it all up. I thought I killed us both—"

"You—"

"I was so sure it would work because it already had, but there was still the possibility I could've gotten it wrong. I could've caused a split in our realities. Created two timelines where I ceased to exist, except in this one no one would've known what happened to me and two of the Chaos Emeralds would be lost to time. How would any of you have known where to look?" Tails rambled, pressing his hands over his face. "I estimated the time of day with a standard deviation of a couple of seconds, but those seconds could've been what killed us—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Sonic hushed, shifting to wrap both arms around his little brother as he slumped against him. "You didn't. You're here. You're right here with me, see?" He gave him a firm squeeze, smile tugging at his muzzle as Tails hugged him back tightly. "Atta boy."

"Stupid…" he mumbled into Sonic's shoulder. "Why does this still work so well?"

"Heh. What're big brothers for?" Sonic huffed out a chuckle. "Listen, you can't live a life of what-ifs, bud. It'll drive you outta your mind. I should know. And I know you know that, too." He felt Tails's nod against his cheek. "You did exactly what you set out to do. And heck, you used the Chaos Emeralds to travel through time! When did you learn how to do that, huh? Holding out on your big bro?"

Tails snorted, but it got him to relax enough to pull back. "Figured if I could use Chaos Control, time travel was just an added boost. Like adding a supercharger to the Tornado's engine."

"Tch. You figured." Sonic rolled his eyes, but the warmth in them was nothing but fond. "Give yourself a little more credit. You did something incredible today, Tails. You defied time and space to save yourself. And not only that, you gave yourself a future to look forward to. Because who wouldn't want to turn out to be like you?"

It was Tails's turn to roll his eyes, though it was his own chuckle that betrayed him. "That's what I told me."

"And wiser words were never spoken," Sonic assured him as he gave his knee a firm pat.

"I dunno. Could make a case for the consequences of rewriting timelines and creating unsustainable permutations of past and future events." Tails grinned.

"Now you’re just being smart," Sonic snorted.

"Well, I am a genius." Tails bumped his shoulder to Sonics. "But I also learned from the best. Even eleven-year-old me picked up on that."

"Well, he's a genius, too. He knows what's up." Sonic slung his arm around Tails’s shoulder, this time his turn to watch as his brother picked up the video game controller to continue where Sonic left off. 

He let him, taking his turn to be content as he watched Tails figure out the game faster than he did and go farther than Sonic could. They said nothing for a few minutes, Tails working out the rest of his pent up feelings through the game while Sonic quietly processed what he'd just been told. He wasn't a stranger to time travel, not by a long shot, but even so, it wasn't what he thought the answer to that day had been. As much faith he had in his best friend, his self-sacrificial tendencies were something he couldn't help but take notice of. After all, he'd learned from the best, hadn't he?

But it wasn't with bitterness or disdain when he set his gaze on the teen beside him. That wasn't possible; not when he saw every age at once. Not when he was in absolute awe of how far his kid had come. 

"Tails."

"Sonic," Tails answered instinctively, matching his tone with the hint of a crooked smile.

"Thanks for saving him."

Tails blinked and paused the game so he could look at Sonic. In the light from the television screen, green eyes glimmered with a depth that took him back to a younger version of his big bro, who was trying to do everything in his power to be there for him. Because he wanted to be. Because he needed to be.

One tail curled around Sonic's back and draped over his lap, giving back the same reassurance he always gave so freely.

"Anytime, big bro."

[churipu]

( OO4 ) ★ bloody mess , nanami kento

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. mentions of blood, mentions of a lot of different pet names (sweetheart, love, etc.), hospital raahhh, anesthesia.

note. WHO'S BACK DOING THE 1K EVENT LAJSOS IM SO SORRY :< THIS ONE IS A BIT SHORT???

ENTRY ( OO4 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" "a lot." "oh, well — that's not good."

tags: @sad-darksoul @sweeneyblue1 @idkuluka @colorful-happy-shit @tomie-it-girl

the room reeked of blood. if you get a gist of it — you'd likely think of death.

you held your phone in between your shoulder and your ear, slightly trembling as your muscle stretched. chewing your lip in frustration, the device ringing.

once.

twice.

thri—

"hi, sweetheart."

you sighed out in relief, "hi kento, i have a really quick question because i'm trying not to freak out—"

nanami immediately cuts you off, "is something wrong? what happened y/n?"

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" you asked him, eyeing the trail of crimson streaming down your ring and pinky finger — blowing on it softly, foot drumming impatiently. what a bloody mess.

nanami was silent for a few seconds, but you could make out a brief, "a lot."

that's when you finally let out a panicked but calm, "oh, well — that's not good."

the male on the other line shuffled a bit, and you made out a few static noises, "what happened, sweetheart? did you hurt yourself?" he softly asks you.

"um . . . i cut myself cutting fruits. it's stupid but — i was trying to imitate fruit ninja . . ." you explained, full of shame. yet again, from the other line, nanami shuffled; creating out static noises, "i should probably head to the hospital, right?"

"apply pressure on the wound, i'm already around the corner, love. keep on talking with me." he replies back calmly.

you did what he told you to do without ending the call, wincing every once in a while from the jolt of pain.

soon enough, nanami burst from the front door — his eyes finding your sitting form, a cotton pad wrapped around your bloodied fingers. with rushed steps, he approaches you, softly grabbing your hand, inspecting the wound.

"come here pretty," he softly mumbles, tugging you gently, "we're going to the hospital."

two stitches.

because you decided to imitate fruit ninja — in your defense, it seemed really cool in the games.

with an IV attached to your other hand, you laid on the bed, half droopy as the anesthesia had already spread through your veins. limp and tired, a hard cast covering your wounded hand to press on the stitches.

"please keep watch of their hands, and try not to move it a lot during the healing process — come back in approximately two weeks time for cast and stitches disposal." you could definitely hear a doctor say — clueless to you or to nanami.

but you answered them nonetheless, slurring out incoherent words, "oh . . . doctor, yeah! okay, mhm, i got you, doc, i'll be back soon."

a few chuckling erupted and you shut your eyes, feeling fatigue take over, "how are you feeling, darling?"

fluttering your eyes open, you nod, "good. how about you, ken?"

nanami brushed your cheek gently, staring at your droopy state affectionately, his elbow prepped up on the hospital bed, "i'm good as well. are you still in pain?"

you shook your head with a stupid smile, "nope, just peachy," you smiled, "i have a dress on my finger—" proudly raising your index finger up, where the pulse oximeter was.

"it looks wonderful, sweetheart," nanami softly threaded his calloused fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles.

the wound was worse than he thought. at first, nanami didn't know whether to be worried about your poor choice of action or your wound in all honesty, but at this point — he's doing both at the same time.

the male was in the middle of a meeting with the gojo satoru when you called.

"right? and — i think they stole my fingers," you whispered, eyes darting around here and there before eventually trying to raise up your wounded hand. to which nanami prevented by carefully putting it down to your side, on the bed.

"i promise your fingers are there, darling." nanami chuckled at your behavior under the anesthesia.

"no, no. i swear, i can't feel them — the people stole my fingers while you were not here," you refer to the doctor and the couple of nurses who tended to you earlier, "go check them, i swear, ken. my fingers are gone."

cute. you were very cute. nanami knew he shouldn't be laughing at all, but the way you acted right now was . . . very out of character. the passion swirling in your eyes as you try to convince him that your fingers were stolen.

"angel, i promise. they're there, attached." he moved a few strands of your hair away from your face, "you can be angry at me if they aren't there."

bad choices of words. because the very next second, you were trying to pry open your cast to take a quick look at your fingers.

"no, no. darling, you shouldn't touch that," nanami stood up, carefully holding your unharmed hand. preventing it from gnawing at your harmed hand.

"'m trying to prove something here, ken . . ." you rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the bed, "let me go," your whines made him smile.

"darling, 'ts not good to touch it now. we'll get it taken off in a while," you softly whine at his words.

"'ts too long. my fingers . . ."

nanami cupped your face and pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, "they're there darling, i promise." he held out his pinky.

you childishly nodded, intertwining your pinky with his, "okay. promise."

"are they there?" nanami asks, holding your unharmed hand as he used his other hand to steer the steering wheel of his car.

it had been at least a couple of hours, and the anesthesia was slowly leaving your system — enough for you to be dismissed from the hospital. here you were, sitting in his passenger's seat, "are what there?" you questioned back, still feeling a bit droopy.

"your fingers."

in confusion you stare at him, "of course they are, in here." you mumbled, raising up your casted hand.

nanami chuckled, this was only something he and you (under the influence) knew.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[billskeis]

˖ ࣪ ⟢ currently thinking about how bill lasts long, and i mean long. we’re talking about hours of hot sex

as much as he loves to take his time with you, there’s other days where he just, he just needs this. needs to feel you around him, craves the moans and whimpers that come from your honey filled voice. he fucking craves the sensation of your tight cunt squeezing around him as he pummels his cock into your already soppy n’ sensitive cunt.

“f-fuck you feel amazing.. been a’while hasn’t it schatz?” he holds down your waist, hitting it from the back as he smiles looking at how his hips slap into yours simultaneously, causing your ass to ripple from the impact. the head frame of your bed rocks against the wall, let’s hope the neighbours aren’t going to complain about it next morning once you’re done. if he’s even done with you.

there clearly wasn’t any point in putting a towel under the two of you as you ended up dirtying the sheets anyways. sweat, cum, squirt and saliva all probably in the mix of the fabric as you and bill have been going at it like rabbits in heat. bill could go on forever. fuck, he’d kill to die fucking you. you on the other hand, cannot. overwhelmed by the pleasure, bill uses your body to his leisure, and being the good girlfriend you are, let him.

hickeys litter your body, bite marks, swollen nipples and a tender clit, bill made sure to show love to each and every inch and millimetre of your body tonight. when does he not? he just loves you so much he wants to fuck you till you pass out.

raising your head from the pillow, you claw at the sheets from the overstimulation of like, what? your fourth or fifth orgasm? “bill.. p-please slow down.. i—mmpngh~ i can’t feel my fucking legs..!”

propping yourself on your elbows, you look behind you to your boyfriend with puppy eyes. electric static building in your core as he wouldn’t even stop thrusting as you spoke. biting on your tongue to not give him the satisfaction of you being in pleasure to how pussy drunk he is.

“how cute.. makes me wanna fuck you even harder hm? how s’that sound?”

shoving your head back into the pillows, bill angles himself to fuck into you deeper, rubbing the apex of your ass as he lets out a whorish moan on purpose. to tease you, of course. the tip of his cock abuses your poor cervix, definitely already bruised. your gummy walls however cannot help but contract around his length, feeling up every inch of his veins.

although not the biggest girth, bill makes up for it in length, the curve of his dick allowing him to hit your sweet spot that leaves your toes curling. distracted, bill ends up pinching your clit, as you only sob and soil the pillow with your tears and drool, “i-i’m gonna fucking kill you bill~~!”

“mmmhh—okay just let me cum first ‘kay?” licking a stripe up the spine and curve of your back, bill has a tight grasp on your ass cheeks as he moves you back and forth on his dick. he ensures you feel every single movement and inch of his cock as he grinds his cock into your cunt, so easily slipping in and out.

“billllll— b-bill ‘m gonna come—”

“ugh.. so wet, huh?? and you wanted to stop.. you love this don’t cha.. you fuckin—ngh—love this cock right..?”

he only giggles as he watches your body writhe and thrash under him, as he hugs you from behind somewhat in a mating press. his undivided attention all on you as he insists on going another round after telling you ten minutes prior to your last orgasm that this would be the final one. to your inability to say no to his pleads of ‘pleasepleaseplease baby one more time and then we’re finished.. just wanna fill you up once more’ you ended up nodding.

tummy warm and full, your legs shake and tremble in overstimulation as bill begins to move again.

“haahh.. so good f’me.. sooooso good baby.. i love this pussy..” kissing you, eventually letting his tongue slip in as you weep and cry wondering how long it’s gonna take for him to finally be done with you.

we r so up rn chat 🤓🤓

am i back ? perchance . will i try to b active ? we will see

[trevlad-sounds]

For the Birds 8

05.07.2024

Intro 00:00 Veins Full Of Static-Ceaseless Collapse 00:03 Daou-Odyssey 06:18 Synthbiont & Anassimandrus-Whispers from the City 10:35 Willebrant-Inlet III 17:39 Lunar Cambridge-A Distant Mirror 29:00 Metamatics-Flow Motion 33:41 Time Rival-Nippersink Creek + Organic Loops (Prairie Trail 6-21-23) 41:09 CIALYN-GardenWall 46:06 Mitseliy-Blue Tape IV 48:53

[palindrome-alt]

Digital Stars on The Wall

|| Kieran x Reader ||

Your new dorm room in Blueberry Academy is outfitted with all sorts of futuristic technology. You still haven't wrapped fully your head around the fact that you're physically stranded in the middle of the ocean in a giant submerged dome, but hey, whatever they did to make these screens, the night sky looks almost how it'd be if you were camping out in the wild on a cool night.

||Mild Spoilers for the Indigo Disk DLC!||

Everything about Blueberry Academy feels like it came out of a separate, futuristic world. The chromatic metal that never corrodes, the blue... substance, that flows through the artificial veins in the walls and keeps the place running... Out in the middle of the ocean, it's sort of like the whole megalithic building itself is somehow... alive.

Despite that, there's no electrical interference, no static hiss at the back of your ears as you rest your head against the artificial glass sky displayed on the 'window'. How the director managed to even design the illusion of depth in these screens is beyond you, but instead of square pixels, gentle pinpricks hang above you in the false distance. The fact that they aren't plastered flat to a screen is a mini engineering marvel in itself despite the slightly visible panels if you look closely.  Hand shifting out from underneath deep blue sheets, you run your palm over smooth, slightly grooved glass. It feels like touching a bunch of small bathroom tiles, and though you logically know that there's really only a deep dark ocean stretched out for miles, you almost forget just how far you are from the home you've carved out in Paldea.  You're still somewhat scared of the scientists of this world. Somehow, you don't remember civilization being this... technologically advanced.  Cool air blows through the vents above you, tasting nothing of the slightly salty expanse of water above. With their filtration systems, this might be some of the cleanest air you've ever breathed. It's sterile, much less handmade and aged than your dorm room back in Mesagoza. But somehow, this place has started to feel so comfortable, as if it weren't ever foreign in the first place.  The sound of rustling next to you shakes you out of your thoughts, and you shift back onto your back to get a closer look at Kieran, who you almost forgot was there.

He's stiff as a board, his arms folded on top of his chest, his eyes wide and staring straight at the ceiling.  Aside from his shoes, he's still wearing his full school uniform, and his hair has only just started to slip from the tie he's put it up in. He popped in rather unexpectedly, and must not've thought you'd let him stay, so he didn't think to change into more comfortable clothes. Small frazzled black bunches drape onto the extra pillow you pulled from the closet, and the off-color purple no longer remains the dominant color. 

You shift again, this time gaining his attention by curling against his side and nuzzling into the mattress a little more. He stiffens under the touch, but you can feel his sharp eyes flicker from the ceiling to you, a little more of an edge to him than before that he might not ever let go of. 

You don't move, and he must think you're asleep with how you catch his eyelashes gently lulling, spine slowly losing its tension. He must be so sore from all the clenching he's been doing, if not from how he's been pushing himself up until recently. The events that transpired between you are probably still haunting him, even now. With a fresh set of new skin-deep scars, you know it has to be hard on him. Up until last week, it wasn't even certain if you were both still friends.  He sighs beside you, head sinking into his pillow. Unclasping his hands, he slowly reaches over, testing the waters. He hesitates, looking conflicted over whatever thoughts are running through his head. Whatever he was going to do, he must've decided otherwise as his hand drops just short of you.

His eyebrows furrow, pupils dilating a little when they land on yours.  "S-Sorry." He flinches away, shifting his gaze.  You don't say anything, but the following silence between you isn't entirely comfortable like before. Inhaling deeply, he stiffens back up a little, pretending to look around the room though his focus is still on you. He can't seem to pay attention to anything else right now.

He's been so consumed with thoughts of you for so long that he's a little scared that he can't be normal about it.  You can't know that.  He tries forcing his eyes shut.  He won't be getting any sleep tonight. 

[muzanswaifu]

Bittersweet

Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader

18+

Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"

Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl

-

-

-

The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.

He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.

Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.

But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...

As for the female -

Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.

The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.

He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.

A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.

He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.

Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.

He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.

Fuck.

He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.

But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.

It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path,  ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.

He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.

It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.

Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?

“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.

She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.

“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.

He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.

His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.

"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.

"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.

"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.

She sniffled again. "B-but -"

"Zip it."

Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.

Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.

His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.

The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.

The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to  such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.

And he was horny.

He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.

She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.

He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.

Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.

But he needed more.

His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.

Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.

He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.

"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."

The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.

"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"

She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.

"Not my problem."

"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"

"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.

He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.

Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."

Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.

"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.

He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.

And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.

-

@acehyacinth

@chaik1

@tomiokas-lunchbox

@walkingtravesty97

@keimuras

@akazaapologist

@prostheticmind

@doumakiss

@uchihabucketlist

@tired-writer04

@magoliaomega

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[moon7jay]

hard heeseung thoughts 😵‍💫 non con with mean dom her AHHHH

THIS IS NON CONSENSUAL SO DNI IF U R NOT COMFY WITH THOSE THEMES

Boyfriend heeseung who has fucked you on every surface of your apartment and his own dorm.

Boyfriend heeseung who's always horny, ready to take you anywhere and everywhere.

Boyfriend heeseung who ignores your pleas asking to not do it today cuz u r sore from last night

Boyfriend heeseung who doesn't understand consent, you are his, so is your cunt and he can use it whenever he wants, even you can't stop him

Boyfriend heeseung who gets turned on when u tell him to stop, your lower lip wobbling "heeseung please, please don't"

Your whiny voice and real fear in your eyes as u scoot away from him makes him inexplicably hard in his jeans

Boyfriend heeseung who likes how you are so tiny, your soft little fists coming up to hit him on his chest to push him away but it only makes him laugh as u sob

Boyfriend heeseung who forcefully spreads your legs apart, not even bothering to take any of your clothes cuz he's only intrested in getting inside of your fuck hole.

"Don't act like u don't want this fucking tease, prancing around in nothing but my shirt, pussy all up in my face and u wanna act all innocent now? "

Boyfriend heeseung who traps you under his weight, thrusting inside of you, moaning at how you scream and thrash, your pussy burns from his forceful invasion

"It h-hurts, hurts so much heeseung please"

Your cries falling on deaf ears, he's growling like an animal in heat, eyes laser focused on how your lower regions connect, loving the way your tight cunt wraps around his dick. The sounds of skin slapping harshly music to his ears.

"Hurts yeah? Lemme make it hurt some more" Hitting your cervix brutally, going harder everytime you scream

Your arms flail around, full on sobbing and having a breakdown cuz what boyfriend takes advantage of his girlfriend? This is wrong on so many levels, but ur body betrays you, secreting fluids the more he fucks you. Fuck? No. Rapes you.

"Making a mess baby, u want this yeah? Like when it hurts don't you? Come on let's fuck some more"

Boyfriend heeseung who spits in your mouth, liking how u swallow on autopilot, sucking on your tongue forcefully, liking how messy it gets as you cry more.

Boyfriend heeseung who doesn't just make out with you but eats your mouth, his tongue fucking your throat making you choke as saliva drips down your chins, sucking on your tongue forcefully cuz God damn he loves the way u taste in his mouth.

Boyfriend heeseung who rips your(his) shirt off and slaps your tits till they turn red, while rutting into your cunt as your screams of pain turn him harder inside of you.

Boyfriend heeseung who bites and gropes your soft skin, sucking and puncturing your skin with his teeth from anywhere he can get his mouth on, leaving bruises all over you, too lost in the pleasure your body is giving him.

Boyfriend heeseung who manhandles your body onto all fours, focusing on his dick and his pleasure, least intrested about your pleasure or how u keep begging him to stop

"Scream louder for me whore, ask me to stop-oh fuck yeah- gonna rape u all night long" His grunts and groans of satisfaction now sound static to u as u keep sobbing but no longer resisting, letting him bend u and use u like his own cumdump .

Boyfriend heeseung who takes you 3 more times throughout the night, slapping you when u try to run away from him, the veins in his neck visible from how much he loves forcing himself inside of you, beating your insides red.

Boyfriend heeseung who doesn't bother cleaning you up or making you cum, just tucking his dick in his pants and leaving you a crying mess once he's satisfied. Telling you to keep his cum in you or he'll rape u harder the next time he comes over.

Boyfriend heeseung who knows u will come crawling back to him again cuz he's broken you. Turned you into a perfect sex toy. Only existing to pleasure his dick.

[chronicowboy]

guilty feet have no rhythm | 1k

Eddie doesn't remember the last time he felt like this. Happy, uncomplicated, free. The world is fuzzy, warm where it wraps around him, dips under his feet like it's making way for him. Everything is so easy tonight. And it's not just the alcohol, not the tequila running warm and smooth through his veins.

No, it had been so spectacularly easy before he'd even had a drink. He'd been easy and full of joy the moment Buck had showed up on his doorstep with two freshly dry cleaned suits that they'd destroyed within the first hour of the party. It had felt, for a moment, like the house had taken its first deep breath in weeks when Buck had stepped inside.

They're in the bathroom again. Eddie has lost count of how many times they've ventured to the toilets tonight. All that alcohol, wreaking havoc on bladders and hand-eye coordination and stomachs. This time, Buck's sleeve has been soaked through by tequila, and Eddie hadn't really had an excuse to follow him in here except the thought of peeling himself from Buck's side had sent a wave of wrong through him so powerful he'd thought he was about to throw up the steak dinner they'd sat down for before karaoke.

So, he follows Buck to the bathroom, falling back against the wall when Buck notices him there and smiles brighter than the neon paint on the walls. He watches Buck shove his sodden arm under the hand dryer, and the steady whine of it fills Eddie's brain with a static that leaves him defenceless.

"What does it feel like?" The words slip out the moment the dryer shuts off with a click.

"Warm, wet," Buck answers with a cute little twist to his eyebrows. He tilts his head to the side, looking every bit like the stray puppy on their street Eddie had fallen in love with when he was twelve and his dad had called Animal Control on. "Have you not... used a hand dryer before?"

"No, Buck," Eddie groans, tastes the name on his tongue like a burst of colour. Yellow like a sunflower, or golden like sunlight itself, or pink like a birthmark as familiar to him as breathing. "What does kissing a man feel like?"

"Oh!" Buck grins, bouncing on his feet a little. He almost topples over with the energy that fills him at the question, and Eddie curls his hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and hold him steady only because he doesn't feel so steady himself all of a sudden. Buck leans back against the wall opposite Eddie, getting a little lost in something Eddie can only imagine. "It's..." He sighs, long and dreamy. Eddie wants to catch it in his hands, press it to his chest, feel whatever certainty Buck is feeling now.

Certainty. The word lodges itself in Eddie's throat. That's it. That's what he's been missing. That's what's been making the world feel so... Uninhabitable recently. Eddie hasn't felt certain about anything since that solid weight had dropped through his chest at the graveyard. And even now he's still not certain what that weight was. But he'd been a hell of a lot more sure about that than he has been about anything with his girlfriend.

"It's... What?" Eddie prompts, suddenly, certainly desperate for the answer.

"Life-changing," Buck breathes, eyes the colour of an endless sky.

"How?"

"I don't know how to explain it." Buck shakes his head. "It's not really all that different except for all the ways it's different."

"Like what?" Eddie feels like a little kid, boundless in their curiosity, about to get an answer to a question they can barely comprehend.

"Like the stubble," Buck begins, eyes dropping to Eddie's jaw. "The tilting your head up instead of down, the hard chest against yours, the big hands on your waist." His voice turns dreamy, breathy. Eddie understands painfully, feels like he's just run a marathon. "But it's not really..."

"It's not really what?" It sounds like a plea in the muffled silence of the bathroom.

"It doesn't feel all that different when your eyes are closed, you know?" Except Eddie doesn't know. He doesn't know anything anymore. "But that empty space that's been inside you your whole life suddenly feels full."

"Oh." Eddie rubs a knuckle down his breastbone like he's trying to wake himself up with a sternal rub.

"You should try it, Eddie," Buck says then.

"What?"

The world disappears out from under his feet.

"You should kiss a man. It's—"

Eddie takes two steps and changes his life.

Eddie kisses Buck, and it's everything Buck had said. The delicious scratch of stubble, the slight upwards tilt of his head, the hard chest against his, the big hands around his waist, the filling up of that empty space. Except it's all that and more. It's Buck's stubble, it's Buck leaning down to breach that tiny gap between them despite the shocked noise that Eddie drinks from his mouth, it's Buck's firm chest under his hands and Buck's heartbeat pounding against his, it's Buck's calloused but endlessly gentle hands burning through his shirt just above his hips, it's the empty space in his chest not just filling up but overflowing with right right right —

Wrong.

The blast of the hand dryer rips them apart, and Eddie stumbles backwards, wild and free and oh-so-complicated. Every moment of his life before that kiss is rewritten into a writhing mass of wrong as everything else becomes entirely clear. For the first time in his life, Eddie is certain. Certain of two things: he never wants to kiss a woman again, he never wants to kiss anyone but Buck again.

"How was that?" Buck whispers, chest heaving despite the fact that it hadn't really been anything more than a brush of lips.

"Life-changing," Eddie croaks, the sound of it lost as Chim comes stumbling into the bathroom with a blast of Careless Whisper.