#basically he's in a state where he knows he can get better but it takes a toll on him at times cus he's hard on himself

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Random Togami Headcanon 13

TL;DR - Byakuya's bettered himself but he still has a long road of healing. Also, heads up. This one's not happy like most of the others. Gets a bit hopeful at the end but there's still a lot of sad topics here. Viewer discretion is advised. Now that he feels more empathy for others and possesses some capability for putting himself in another's shoes, thoughts he used to have about the lower class make him feel... off. Perhaps guilt or discomfort with himself. It doesn't help though looking at his classmates every school day and being reminded of the mindset he was raised with. It especially doesn't help when he looks at Makoto who helped him. Makoto being the commoner of all commoner's also hurts. He appreciates what Makoto's done to help him but it unintentionally stabs him hard within his chest that he needed someone's help to get to this point and the someone being a commoner he once wrote off. Next, with this empathy, the heir feels better with his life and happiness but fundamentally worse. It's as if he deteriorated though, logically, he knows it's not the case. He knows that the illogical side of his brain covers itself in the hides of reason and rationale. Essentially, Byakuya ends up having a grueling struggle with dealing with these emotions that, for the majority of his life, he buried and repressed. Emotions that both make him feel more fulfilled in life but that tear him apart inside. Bouts where he feels either extremely content with how he's turned out or that dread and despair that he's slipping back into his old ways. In fact, at times, it becomes overwhelming for him to handle which he especially hates. Being overwhelmed is yet another thing he once viewed as a weakness and, to some extent, he still does. Sometimes, to cope, jokes to himself on whether existing itself is something he feels is a weakness. However, though he has a lot of emotions and thoughts that upset him now as a bettered person, one big thing that pains him is that he has the capability and the intelligence to notice all of this. It's the acknowledgment that stings. The heir notices that he has a problem, that he probably needs help, maybe even therapy, but then he spirals more because of that realization. Why should HE need HELP for these problems of his?! He's an independent person! He should logically be able to handle this himself. He's always handled his problems on his own! Why should he now need someone or just a support system of people to aid in his path of healing? He feels gross for that support system being the classmates who he once adamantly despised with such vitriol. With the added empathy, he also feels shame as he doesn't want to hurt any more people in his life now. He has the hindsight to know this now. He questions himself. Is the situation he's in even that big of a deal and should he keep searching for answers on the "why" and "how"? Is it worth it? Comparisons to the peasants he used to once adamantly demonize also do not escape him. He feels worse because, while he's breaking at the seams, countless of other commoners have similar thoughts too. He's not unique and a bit of that stings his lingering superiority. Then, there is the fact that Byakuya feels even worse about this BECAUSE commoners can handle stuff like this and yet, he keeps saying that he can't due to his mental spirals. Either that or the older thoughts of hating commoners bites back by making him feel like he's "acting like one". He knows by this point that he's actively tearing himself down and that he needs to escape this cycle of mental abuse. He feels shame in himself though. He feels humiliated. Pathetic. Overly emotional in ways he's never felt before. He still has that hope though. The hope that he can get through his. The heir's already delt with so much whether canon, non-despair, or an au of some kind. He's continued on despite it all. And, though long ago, he would have pushed some of this hope off for it being too optimistic, he's grown to care less about that sort of thought anymore. Byakuya can do this.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.

I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)

This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.

If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???

I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.

But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.

So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.

Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.

Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.

Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.

Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.

Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.

The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.

It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.

[stark-ironman]

Something something something sugar daddy Hugh jackman because 😍😍

https://x.com/agathaharknssgf/status/1825671922245579244?s=46

Sugar Baby

A/N: Ughhhhhh the way I felt my insides get all tingly 😭if this is anywhere near good, let me know if I should do a part 2.

Warnings: Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby, small daddy kink, legal age gap, punching, mentions of blood, jealous Hugh, mirror sex.

Your doorbell rings as you're putting on your final shoe, hearing Hugh call out for you as he opens the door. You smile at him as he kisses your cheek and checks you out, grabbing your hand and spinning you.

"You look fantastic, princess." Hugh tells you while digging in his pocket and pulls something out. "Turn around." It's a soft command but you know better than to try and ignore it. He places the most beautiful necklace around your neck, watching as you admire it in the mirror.

"There's no way I can wear this. It's worth more than my apartment, hell more than my car. I'll feel really bad if something happens to it." Your anxiety starts getting the best of you and he kisses you softly, making you stop talking.

"I want you to keep it. We had a deal, remember?" His smooth, Australian accent whispers in your ear, making your knees weak. "I always said I hated expensive gifts." You try to reason but he tsks, looking in the mirror at you.

"You're mine, princess. You go with me places as my eye candy and we fuck when we get back, in return, I shower you with gifts and whatever else your heart desires." He states, running a hand up your thigh. Your heart skips a beat as you look at the mirror, watching Hugh admire your body while running his fingers anywhere he can, electricity following his touch.

"I'm real tempted to bend you over in front of his mirror and let you see how your body reacts to my touch," His fingers graze over your heat causing your breath to hitch before he pulls away, "Too bad we have to leave so we're not late." You take a deep breath, accepting his hand and he leads you out of your apartment.

Once in the car, he places a hand on your thigh and rubs his thumb over it softly. "When we get here, don't leave my sight." Hugh states softly, glancing over at you before turning back to the road. You nod and look out the window, watching buildings and cars pass by quickly before finally pulling up to the party.

"We're just here to make an appearance and see a couple friends, after that I'll take you home." He says getting out of the car before helping you out, handing his keys to the valet and leading you inside. You grip his hand tightly as he leads you through the crowd, feeling your anxiety creep up at the fact you don't belong around these rich, snobby people but you also won't turn Hugh down over something like this party.

-

About two hours after showing up, you tell Hugh you need to go to the bathroom and he tells you where to go, kissing you softly as you walk away. You follow his directions and use the bathroom, making sure to wash your hands and clean up before heading back out.

"You're Hugh's girl, right?" A random man asks as he walks up to you. You nod and he continues, "What are you doing with a man like him? He's too old for someone as young as you." You think back to what Hugh told you in the very beginning of your relationship about staying quiet when you're out with him and just let him take care of it but it's becoming very hard to do.

The guy steps towards you, touching your face but you flinch and step back from him, swatting his hand away. "I would appreciate you not touching me. Especially when you know Hugh doesn't like when people touch me." You try to say without stuttering. "Hugh doesn't know how to please a woman like you and you have no business being with him, especially when you're basically a nobody." He says stepping towards you again but he's thrown back as soon as he does and Hugh has him by the collar, staring down at his face.

"Is there a fucking problem here?" Hugh snarls, his Australian accent deepening and it sends a shock through you. "Ask your whore instead o-" Hugh punches him before he can finish his sentence, blood falling quickly down his face. "Call her that again and next time you won't be so lucky." His hand grabs yours and he leads you out, walking to the car.

He starts driving, white knuckling the steering wheel as he speeds through the city, all the way to his apartment in silence. You both head inside, taking off your shoes in the doorway before walking to his bedroom and you head to the bathroom.

You take off your jewelry and wipe off the makeup, walking back into bedroom to see Hugh standing over by the window.

"What all did he say?" He finally asks in a low but firm voice. "Just that I didn't need to be with you and needed to be with someone who could treat me right then said I'm a nobody." You say feeling tears fill your eyes as you relive the moment.

Hugh nods, turning towards you, "Do you think that's true? About needing someone better?" You shake your head, sitting on the bed. "I want to be with you." You say. "What about when he said you're actually nobody?" Another question and you shrug, "It's true. I am a nobody."

He slips his jacket off, loosening up his tie as he walks towards you, placing a hand on your face in the same spot the guy touched you. "He touched what's mine," His fingers run over your skin, "Tried tainting my beautiful girl with his sick touch."

His hands grab your face as he leans down and kisses you with hunger. "Stand up." He commands softly. You stand and he slides your dress off, grabbing your hand and leads you back to the bathroom.

You furrow your brows in confusion as he leads you to the counter. "Bend over, princess. I'm going to show you that you're not just a nobody to me, you're going to see that you are my entire world." He emphasizes on the word you, feeling your thongs get soaked.

He bends you over and holds your face in the mirror, looking at you with lust-blown eyes that have you damn near begging for him to go ahead and fuck you. Hugh slides his belt off, pushing his slacks and briefs down enough to pull his dick out.

His hand wraps around his base, pressing and rubbing the tip in your folds as if teasing you, then he finally slides in softly causing you to moan at the stretch.

His hips hit yours as he bottoms out and he grips your hips tightly, moving at a slow pace. "Don't ever worry about what anybody thinks about you," He grunts while unbuttoning his shirt, "You will always be somebody to me," His eyes stay locked on yours with what he says next, "You're mine, babygirl. Nobody will ever be able to do what I do to you, will they?"

You whimper, "No, daddy. I'm all yours." He smirks, speeding his movements up as he hits your sweet spot.

The sound of moans and skin slapping fills the bathroom. You look up at Hugh again to see his mouth slightly open, head close to falling back from pleasure with his shirt unbuttoned and his tie barely hanging on, causing you to groan at the sight. This man will literally be the death of you with how fucking good he looks to you.

"There you go, babygirl, clench around my cock. Do you like watching what I'm doing?" He asks with a smirk when he sees your fucked out face. You nod, reaching your hand behind you to grab him but he grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind your back, gripping them with one hand and places the other on your hip.

He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, causing you to cum unexpectedly but it doesn't stop him, you honestly think it's made him more feral and he moans at the way your insides are clinching around him.

"I think you can do another one for me." Hugh growls as he pulls you up, your back against his chest, and he wraps an arm around you until his fingers are on your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub before thrusting back into you.

His other hand comes up around your throat, squeezing just enough to apply pressure.

"Daddy..." You moan, causing him to move his hand faster. "Ruin these pants, babygirl. I want them soaked by the time I'm done with you."

His words send you over the edge, feeling a gush shoot out between your legs and he moans loudly, twitching inside of you and slowly thrusting inside of you.

He pulls out slowly, holding you close to him.

"Still have doubts, princess?" Hugh asks and you chuckle. "Maybe a little. I might need to be shown again." He laughs and kisses your shoulder, leading you to the shower.

"Let's clean somewhat up and I'll show you exactly who you are to me."

[twoyara]

About how men rape women with “consent”

This post is not mine, but one radfem woman from our community. She works as a sexologist and shared her experience in her work. If you too are a sexologist, or even better, have some statistics on this topic, please share your experiences or links. ---------------------------------------------------------- "When I first started working, I discovered that many men had never experienced the need to refuse intimacy with a regular partner. That is, a man in counseling complains that his partner often refuses him, he attributes her refusals to personal dislike and faded feelings, and when he tries to turn the situation around and remember when he himself had to refuse her, he does not understand what we are talking about. Because he has never had to - he responds to the initiative of his partner every time and considers it a sign of love and attraction on his part.

I heard this very often, I couldn't catch the lie and at the same time I couldn't interpret it. They are not robots, after all, to be available 24/7 at all hours of the day and night?

One day a client in a session literally opened my eyes with one phrase.

She said: “I CAN SEE WHEN HE'S NOT UP TO IT.”

That's the secret. The notorious emotional service. Subsequently, and many other women have confirmed this in a targeted survey: when the desire for intimacy arises, a woman assesses her partner's condition BEFORE taking the initiative. If she sees that her partner is tired, sick, in a bad mood, or preoccupied with something, she does not consider it appropriate to offer sex. I have also heard from many women that in a situation when she can not clearly assess the state of the partner, she prefers to flirt, as if casually get naked, as if accidentally do something that usually arouses the partner. If there is no reaction to this, the woman usually refuses to take the initiative and solves her problems on her own, without forcing the partner to conflict and feel guilty.

Men don't want their partners all the time - it's just that no one gets in their underwear when it's inappropriate. No one forces them to think about sex when they don't want to think about it.

Men themselves don't usually check against anything but their own erections.

They don't care when to offer sex to a woman(the following is a real and far from complete list):

Who is asleep (well, seriously, I don't know any woman who would ever think of waking up a sleeping partner to satisfy her sexually);

who's back from her 24-hour shift;

who just finished cooking a holiday dinner for ten people;

who has a high fever;

who's been vomiting all day;

who is eight months pregnant with a complicated pregnancy;

who has undergone a termination of pregnancy that day;

who is in the terminal stages of cancer;

who's just had a pet die;

returning from the funeral of a beloved grandmother;

waiting for a call from the NICU where their (mutual!) child is (“Let's get a little loose while we wait”) - and so on and so forth.

It may seem like it's a matter of cognitive distortion, that they just don't get it….. But they do. I asked one of them once: does he really think that a person in such a state can want sex? Yes, it is clear that they don't want to, he replied, but I'm just in case - maybe it will work out. I asked him how he would react if it didn't work out, and he admitted that he would be hurt and angry. And that's another “secret�� - why it does burn out. Because refusal will inevitably lead to conflict, and a woman often does not have the strength not only for sex, but also for an argument. When he offered sex, she basically can not get out of the situation without damage - either to be raped, or to deal with his tantrums and offenses. And unfortunately, sometimes the first one turns out to be the lesser harm."

[elssero]

so… head?

e.kirishima

♰ nsfw/suggestive content, pussy eating, slight angst to smut/fluff with kiri being a d1 eater <3 part1

you step hurriedly into your apartment and you feel as though you can finally realise the breath it feels like you’ve been holding your entire walk- no run home. you open your phone to find messages from each of them, mina asking where you went and denki excessively apologising asking if he made you uncomfortable. their messages are filled with worry- your not like this, your strong- so strong. if anyone knows how to take a joke it’s you, which is why you running of has them so worried.

you shoot mina quick message- something along the lines of being tired because of work and promising you’ll make it up to them next time, that seems to calm them down a bit.

despite having basically ran the entire way home in nothing but a mini-skirt you still feel hot all over- not a warm hot- no definitely not. you feel hot inside. you decide a cold shower is a definite and you strip as fast as possible, the material of your clothes are sticking to your skin and you need to wash this feeling away immediately.

with the high of drunken state now completely gone you step under the water with a hiss- it’s freezing. that seems to derail your attention long enough for you to shower completely.

settling into your couch in much comfier clothes you pick up your remote and browse through your tv services- trying to find something to take ur mind off whatever the fuck tonight was.

you can’t though- you can’t stop thinking about kiri, and how hot his breathe was against your skin, the look in his eyes when he spoke to you, his voice low- almost desperate. you take a quick peek at your messages- more from mina, photos now of everyone together, without you. a few more from denki, clearly now alot more drunk as he’s slurring even more apologies, he’s blabbering about cancelling the head plan and you can’t help but giggle at his typos. without realising your eyes gravitate towards kiri’s name on your wall of messages- he hasn’t text.

should you feel so disappointed? you knew he was only saying those things because he was drunk- of course he was but that doesn’t stop the little hurt u feel creep up on you when you realise everyone else has messaged you.

you contemplate for a moment- how do you move forward from this? at first glance it could be easy enough, you don’t work at the same agency as kirishima so the only time you see him are during your groups weekly get togethers, you debate in your head for a moment before deciding that you’ll face him when your ready, until then you plan to avoid him. saving both you and him from the embarrassment of having him either a- forget it ever happened or b- have him probably apologise for joking around and tell you he didn’t mean it.

you can’t even decide which option you’d rather- having him forget would mean you would never need to bring it up with him, he could live in blissful ignorance while you take your sweet time getting over it. kirishima is so sweet though, your sure if he remembers tomorrow morning that he’ll attempt to apologise for his attempt to make you feel better- you’d rather he didn’t say anything at all.

you spent your week diving head first into work, hardly giving yourself a moment of rest- you put yourself forward for every patrol shift you can get. upping your daily patrols to minimum 2 a day, sometimes even 3 if your struggling to sleep and decide to take a night shift.

to say your friends are worried about you is an understatement- you’ve never been one to overwork yourself, you always seem to have a perfect balance between your work and person life so to see you completely ignore anything personal has them almost frantic for you.

sero messages your groupchat about plans for friday, he invites everyone up to his place- clearly excited about his new minibar finally being set up. you smile at the message but not respond quite yet. not until you see a message from a certain red head matching his excitement in his own message confirming that he’ll be there this weekend. you frown slightly reading his message- it’s clear he’s talking to everyone else fine so it seems to be just you he hasn’t spoken to all week. you decide not to reply straight away, instead finishing your second patrol of the day in hopes of going straight home to sleep after.

the patrol goes by quickly and suddenly your on your couch again, unable to sleep while endlessly scrolling to try find something to watch. without any luck you open up your messages again to see the rest of your friends all confirming their availability for the friday coming, your frown from earlier re-appearing on your face as you send a quick message to your manager asking them to set up your schedule for you to be out on patrol again on friday night.

you scroll up the chat messages so you can send a direct reply to seros message in the chat inviting you all over- your reply is short and sweet, letting your friends know that you’ve been scheduled for patrol on friday night and are unable to make it this week. you tell them to have a good time without you though! sending the message while you ignore the tight feeling in your chest.

you want more than anything to be with them on friday but you can’t- your not quite ready to face them yet. especially kirishima who you’ve assumed has forgotten about your drunken conversation.

you get a couple pitying messages in the chat- your friends expressing their disappointment at the fact you won’t be there- telling you that they’ll miss you and it won’t quite be the same without you. nothing from kirishima though- you ignore the way your brain immediately picks up that he hasn’t said anything about your absence and decide it’s late enough already, you need some much deserved rest.

the following weeks go by in a blur, you work, you eat and you sleep. your life seems to be moving in a constant wheel of the same activities day after day- your colleagues are now taking notice of your unceasing interest to pick up every shift your offered, your manager even taking a moment to tell you to slow down, you don’t need the extra patrols your doing great on the rankings as it is. you ignore her though, telling her it’s not about the rankings- you just want to work as much as you possibly can so she, against her best wishes schedules you for yet another friday night patrol.

this will be the forth week in a row you’ve missed out on your friends hangouts and you can tell their starting to get increasingly stressed about your constant absence- mina phones you while your in the office to ask where you are, she’s been stood outside your apartment knocking like an idiot. it’s nearly ten pm and she lets out a groan when you tell her your still not home- promising to be back soon.

she’s not there when you arrive home an hour later, you find a message from her almost begging you to talk to her- she’s troubled by your unwillingness to spend time with her and you do your best to soothe her worries- promising to try and make it next week.

your settling down for bed when you hear a knock at your door- it’s nearly twelve at night, who the fuck is at your door so late?? you pray it isn’t mina- not believing in your ability to face her without breaking down, you head to the door anyway.

you open it quickly groaning at the light coming from the hall outside your apartment to be met with none other that eijirou kirishima standing breathless at your door.

your mouth drops quickly before you pull yourself together, you give him a questioning look before finding it in you to speak. “what are you doing here?” it’s not much but it’s all you can muster right now.

“i- “ he doesn’t continue, he looks almost as shocked to see you as you are him, despite him being the one knocking at your door close to midnight. “i had to see you.”

you raise an eyebrow at this- what the fuck is he doing here? in the middle of the night, stood outside your apartment alone.

“right… do you wanna come in?” you don’t want him to come in, infact you would have rathered if he hadn’t came at all but that’s not the situation you’ve found yourself in.

“please.” is all he replies and you look at him a little starstuck, he still sounds breathless- as if he ran here but you let him in despite your worries.

he follows you into your dimly lit apartment- you watch as his eyes dart across the room, stopping quickly at the pile of packaged food wrappers on your kitchen island as a pang of worry hits him even harder. you stay silent as you guide him to your couch and urge him to sit down next to you, taking note of your silence he begins to speak.

“so uh- how have you been recently? haven’t seen you in awhile..” his sentence trails off and you don’t even look at him when you answer with a quiet “i’ve been good.”

“i- okay look. i came here to apologise to you” you turn, looking at him now, this seems to increase his already nervousness- “i think- i think that i made you uncomfortable a couple weeks ago and i just want to apologise-”

“-it’s fine” you cut him off you begin to look away from him again now as you continue, ignoring the knot in your stomach as you realise you had been right- he had just been joking last month. “everyone says things they don’t mean when they’re drunk.” you finish off your sentence and take a quick drink of your water next to you- your mouth is dry.

“what.”

you snap your head to look at him- your eyes meeting his with an expression you didn’t expect- he’s hurt? confused? your struggling to read him but it’s clear he isn’t happy.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” he continues seeing as you don’t reply to him.

“what?” you answer back- your confused now, your talking about the same night are you not? “i’m talking about at the bar? when you made that joke about eating me out to make me feel better?” your calm. collected. surprisingly so- especially about a topic like this- you say it like it’s nothing. a stricking difference from when you last spoke and you physically ran away from the man infront of you. you’ve had alot of time to think about this situation over the past few weeks and you’ve decided it’s far easier to just ignore the way his words have you warm feeling inside for the sake of your friendship- for the the sake of group.

“i wasn’t joking.”

his eyes don’t leave yours as he replies- he looks even more broken now- “you thought- you thought i was joking?” he’s rushing his words out now, almost as if you can’t hear him.

your eyes blow wide open- your shocked as you look at him and he seems taken back-

“kiri please- i’m fine you don’t have to do this” you stand up now, you attempt to walk away but you don’t make it far as you feel a grip on your wrist as you turn away from him. your spun around quickly now face to face with the red head.

“i wasn’t joking- i wouldn’t joke about something like that-” you hear him- he sounds desperate- your eyes soften for a second as you look him in the eyes.

you take a breath. a slow one. you decide not to respond- not trusting your voice.

“i meant it. every single word.”

you’ve had enough. you’ve fought these feelings for far too long too continue to doubt yourself now. you move faster than you can think as you pull him down to your level by his neck and crash his lips onto yours-

the kiss is fast and passionate he’s pushing back into you now- wrapping his huge arms around your waist pulling you down onto the couch behind him, you rest on him straddling his waist as you push himself further into his mouth. you kiss for a minute- tongues pushing against the other feverishly before he parts from you.

“i can’t believe you thought i was joking. f-fuck when i said id do anything for it i meant it.”

you can’t help the blush that erupts from your face at his words.. your lost for a second before you answer him.

“s’not my fault, it took me by surprise- i’ve never had anyone express interest in that before..” you lean into him again, mouth hovering slightly about his- you can feel his long breaths against your lips as you pause, lips turning up into a slight smirk as you continue- “especially not like that”

he’s looking at you with half lidded eyes again, his current state reminds you of his one in the bar- you feel like an idiot, you can’t believe you didn’t see it then. he wanted you. he so clearly wanted you and you were so wrapped up in your own insecurities that you missed it.

“like what?” his voice even more breathy now- he doesn’t move closer to you but you can feel his breath growing quicker, he’s longing- wishing you’d just close the gap between you and him.

“desperately” is your answer, slow and seductive as you close the distance, pushing your mouth into his without giving him a second to think, he groans at the contact and you let your full weight fall onto his lap as you straddle him properly now- without hovering.

his hands roam the plush of your waist dipping down to your thighs, they’re bigger now that you’ve fully sat down on him and he moans as he squeezes his hands into the fat of them, pulling you closer to the buldge in his pants. you feel it at your core- he’s hung you don’t doubt it for a second as your rock yourself against him- craving some sort of pleasure as he moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss.

“p-please stop that.” he moans it out “if you keep grinding on me like that i won’t be able to do what i really want to.”

your suddenly flipped over, your lying down back against your couch as you use your arms to hoist yourself up as your eyes follow kiris figure, he kisses against the fat on your stomach avoids the material your small sleep shorts.

he ducks his finger under the band and looks up at you- hunger in his eyes. “this is what i really want… if you’ll let me.”

you nod- far too quickly as you mumble an audible yes before you can let your insecurities get the better of you again. he wastes no time pulling down the hem of your shorts- exposing the full view of your pussy to him.

he stalls for a second- just looking before he moves. the second is enough time for you have second thoughts.

they’re quickly shut down when he audibly whines “h-holy fuck baby look at you.” he’s crazy. he must be fucking crazy. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen- can’t believe i get to be the first to taste it.”

you don’t have time to be shocked as he dives straight into you and you immediately let out a loud moan, it’s pleasure like nothing you’ve ever felt before. he’s lapping you up like he’s starved, you don’t think you could stop him now even if you wanted too. (which you definitely don’t) he refuses to come up for a breath, he’s taking long fast licks against between your slit before he begins to suck.

that must be it. you think. when women around you talk about how pleasurable getting head is this must be the feeling they talk about. your eyes shut and involuntarily as your hand rushes to grasp the hair on his head- pulling him closer to your core.

he moans into your pussy at the pulling of his hair and you feel it. you feel him fucking moan into your pussy as he drinks you up, you can’t even comprehend how wet you are right now. you’ve never felt this good in your life.

there’s a knot in your stomach you feel getting heavier- you need to realise it- you want it more than anything.

kiri feels as though he may as well be in heaven, he looks up at you for a second and nearly cums right there. your heads thrown back- eyes shut and mouth agape, your panting, making noises that move directly towards his cock. it twitches in his pants again- pre-cum dripping as the already existing wet patch continues to grow.

he needs you- he needs to pull an orgasm from you and he needs to do it soon. your thighs are soft around him, he’s keeping a firm grip on them as he feeds on you, fuck, it’s too much for him-

your in no better position than he is, your gasping for air at this point, paying no mind to the erotic sounds leaving your mouth, all you can do is grind down onto kiris face- chasing the realise.

you find it- it comes fast and hard- you let out a loud moan of his name as you reach your high- legs attempting to clamp shut around kirishima head and he only moans in response to the plush of your lights strangling him.

he waits for a second- let’s you calm down before he manoeuvres you to sit you up straight. your eyes begin to open as you find yourself face to face with an extremely red kirishima- your slick still dripping down his face, he’s smiling at you with nothing but admiration. he picks you up effortlessly and moves you towards your bedroom, he cleans you up and places you under your covers within a few moments, he joins you in bed without changing himself and it reminds you-

“what about you?” your eager- despite your tired state. “don’t worry about me baby” he’s quiet- he sounds nothing but content.

“why not?” your extreme tiredness making you almost delirious.. but you know you want him- to finish at least.

“i kinda- i already kinda came.”

no fucking way.

this is the longest i’ve written and god did it take FOREVER (maybe a couple of hours)

@von-studios part 2 baby <3

[brucewaynehater101]

Warning: Dark, Suicidal Tim, etc. Also small spoilers for the Injustice movie

Had a random thought, slightly inspired by the Injustice movie: what if Tim, in a mental health slump, decided to teach the bats a final lesson? Every time he defends himself against Damian’s attacks, he’s criticized for it. So one day, he just doesn’t.

Damian gets angry and decides to take it out on the person he won’t be criticized for attacking. After Tim doesn’t respond to his taunts, he gets physical, and throws a knife or slashes his sword, expecting Tim to get out of the out of the way or block the blow, and Tim doesn’t. The sound of a blade parting flesh and a body falling to the ground gets the other bats attention, and they turn to see Damian standing there with blood on his blade and Tim’s body on the ground.

(Inspired by the scene in the Injustice movie where Damian kills Dick by throwing a baton (escrima stick? IDK) at him, expecting him to catch it (which, earlier in the movie, he did), and Dick, being distracted, doesn’t, and it hits him directly on the temple. Accident, sure, but caused by recklessness)

Basically Damian needs to learn that attacking other people because you are angry is NOT OKAY. Seriously, if you’re pissed, go beat up a training dummy or scream into a pillow.

Does Damian learn the lesson? Or not? What about B and Dick and the others? How do they react?

[Thank you for the TWs! WARNING: This is bad batfam. I love them, but we're chucking them under the angst crack bus for this]

Tw: Dark/Suicidal Tim, domestic abuse, psychological warfare, manipulation, mentions of suicide attempt

Tim is tired of constantly fighting back and defending himself. He's tired of Damian and Jason attacking him. He's tired of Dick and Bruce pushing his boundaries.

If Tim just allows Damian to stab him, *he'll* be the one to get lectured for not dodging. It will become Tim's fault, as a trained vigilante, for not preventing himself from being injured.

What does he decide to do?

Resist with extreme psychological warfare no matter the damage to himself.

He starts small.

He curates cases/stories of sibling abuse and starts to leave them in places Dick will find (hacking/messing with Dick's fyp, newspapers around the Manor, files on the batcomputer, a case Babs is informed about, etc). They aren't reflective of Tim's experiences, not yet, but they show common patterns: adult figures not stepping in, siblings being pushed to compete, escalation, negative behaviors transferring to people/things outside of the siblings, etc.

For Bruce, Tim tricks the man into reading an intimate relationships psychology textbook by stating it was necessary for a case. He then keeps tricking the man into reading gentle parenting, boundaries, and other such information.

Jason is much easier. Tim just leaves books of various siblings relationships within the man's safehouses (healthy ones, distant, cruel, enemies, abusive, recent siblings [like adoption], etc). Jason doesn't know Tim is the one leaving those books, but he is intrigued by the "recommendations." A lot of them have other lessons Tim has prepared mixed in as well [which, if Jason finds out Tim is the one who recommended the books after he starts getting along with him, then they can have book clubs ^^].

Tim sends a ton of empathy animal related movies/shows Dick's way so that the older one ropes Damian into watching them.

This takes months, but at no point does Tim relate the lessons to Tim himself yet.

He then starts pouring in warnings. When Damian tries to hurt him again, Tim asks Dick, "What if I was too tired to dodge it?" This is the only time he asks. Dick waves it off cause Damian "knows better" now. I

Tim almost gave up the game right there and then to prove a point. He held back, though.

For Jason, Tim throws in shock-value trauma dump phrases when they meet up to prevent the older one from attacking.

Jason: *pulls out a gun*

Tim: "Damn. You'd think after threatening to kill myself to prevent my future from occurring that I'd be okay with guns. For some reason, they still make me nauseous."

Jason: *holsters gun* "What the fuck?"

Tim: *nods and then disappears*

It kind of trains Jason from attacking Tim unless he wants to hear really fucked up shit that will have his mind spiraling for days.

For Bruce, Tim just points out how and when the man crosses other people's boundaries (but doesn't point out Tim's). He doesn't put any expectation or remedy out. He just indicates it to start Bruce's thought process of "Did I just cross someone's boundary?"

Then Tim feels that it's ready. He won't get blamed for not dodging Damian's attack.

So, he lets himself be seriously stabbed.

This cues Damian into having a mental breakdown. Dick and Bruce oscillate between blaming everyone else and then themselves. Jason, after seeing the shitshow of these reactions, assigns himself (without telling the others) to suicide watch Tim [those trauma dump phrases are working against Tim here].

Once Tim awakens and realizes the mess he's created, he fucking regrets it all. He doesn't want to have to clean it all up and manipulate them into being better. He's also kind of pissed at Damian for not aiming for his heart or something. Damn.

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere!!!Banished Prince!! x Female!!! Reader

He was the heir to a powerful kingdom and was a very cruel and ungrateful man and treated everyone terribly and pretty soon he was banished by his own parents and would only be able to return after a year in hopes he would learn to be humble.

He was furious but couldn't do anything about it he was sent of with 80 gold coins and some food.

The first few days he spent all his money and the "friends" he made cast him away he was starving and wandered into the forest in hopes of finding food when he saw a cute little cottage and collapsed at the door.

He woke up in a soft bed and was startled to see you taking care of him you where so gentle and beautiful that he thought you where an angel at first.

It turns out after he passed out you had come home from work at the bakery and saw him in his dying state and quickly took him in and had tended to him for about three days now.

Once you saw he had woken up you introduced yourself and asked if he was feeling alright.

The prince did nothing but stare into your (eye color) eyes captivated by your beauty with a faint blush on his pale skin.

When he was snapped back into reality he introduced himself as the crowned prince of this kingdom and was surprised when you burst out laughing.

You thought he was just sick and delusional but he tried his best to get you to believe him but gave up after a while.

Being the kind person you are you invited him to stay with you if he helped around the house. At first he refused and went on about how a prince such as himself is far too grand to be doing dishes and cleaning the house but agreed when you threatened to kick him out.

You where horrified to see the dishes sloppily done and the house a mess when you can home and you where amazed to find out that your snobby guest didn't know how to do basic housework.

After showing him the ropes he got better at cleaning and even learnt how to cook.

He soon started to fall in love with you as the days went by to the point where he would jump for joy when you came home.

He literally became like a househusband and prepared a delicious dinner for you and insisted on feeding you and giving you a massage when you came home and got all pouty when you would refuse.

He was like a lovesick puppy and would get worried when you came home late and would get extremely jealous when you brought friends home and would note to himself to get those pesky friends of your executed for stealing your attention from him.

Pretty soon a year went by and he was allowed to come back to to palace and he tried to convince you to come to the palace with him and become is queen but you just laughed like you always did and said yes as a joke.

You where very surprised to see that your guest had gone and even more surprised too see royal carriage and a messenger saying the prince had asked for your hand in marriage and would take you by force if you refused.

When you saw the him you explained how you where joking and that you didn't like him like that he did not take it well and forced you to marry him.

Somehow you managed to escape the day before the wedding with the help of your family and friends and everything was fine for about a year.

Now here you are with your friends and family all killed because according to your new husband he's all you need and they had to be punished for trying to take you away from him.

"My Darling you have taken care of me now let me take care of you, I'm all that you need one day you will understand that."

[torakowalski]

Continued from here but heading all the way back to the beginning. (Not yet) Olympic Swimmer Steve, Hawkins Public Pool, summer 1986:

Eddie isn't a natural swimmer, but he has to find some way to regain the strength those fucking bats took. So when he finds out that Steve and Max are both doing their physio in the public pool, he blows Wayne's mind by demanding he goes to Melvalds and buys Eddie some swim trunks.

Not that Eddie is a follower. But if the rest of Team Rehab is in the pool, then Eddie is gonna be in the pool too.

The problem is that now Eddie is in the pool. He's wet, he's exhausted, and he's wearing nothing except what's basically soaked, clingy underwear, while Steve fucking Harrington looks majestic and gorgeous, swimming lengths not ten feet away.

"It's better through binoculars," says Max. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, even more tired out that Eddie is. Eddie is half taking a break and half making sure she doesn't slide off the side and drown.

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"Steve. Shirtless. It's hotter through binoculars."

Eddie has one second of limb-freezing, stomach-tightening terror, the same second he always gets, no matter whether someone is being too perceptive or whether he's deliberately outing himself.

He makes himself breath through it.

"Jesus Christ, Maxine," he says and gets kicked in the back for his troubles. He'd like to think the kick is gentle because she's worried about his injuries, but it's probably just the hardest she can kick, right now. "Maybe I'm looking at his form."

Max laughs. "Well, yeah."

Eddie gives up. He looks over his shoulder at her. She has the expression of a person who is cool about you being queer and also wants you to know that she's cool about you being queer and also is fifteen and doesn't want to have fucked up.

Eddie makes himself be brave back. "Is it me or is he just getting more built, while you and I flounder around over here, just trying to regain any muscles at all?"

"He's here like, all the time," Max says. "Like hours before us and hours after we go home. He says it turns his brain off."

Eddie can kind of see that; it's definitely harder to think about all the shit that went down at spring break when you're busy trying not to get chlorinated water up your nose.

"Doesn't he have his own pool though? I'm damn sure he has his own pool."

Max shrugs. "I think it got earthquaked." She lifts her head, using a hand to shield her eyes. "Hey, who's that?"

Eddie looks where she's looking and sees a middle aged dude in red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt squat down at the far end of the pool, catching Steve's attention when he surfaces after what must be his fiftieth length in a row.

They're too far away to hear what's being said, but Steve pushes his hair back off his face and bobs in place, clearing listening hard. They talk for a while, long enough that Eddie and Max both start shifting, Max - like Eddie - clearly wondering if they need to stage a rescue.

Then the guy nods to Steve and stands up, walking away, while Steve turns, looking around.

When he spots Eddie and Max, he swims over, all long, and golden and wet.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks, when Steve pops up next to them. "Trouble?"

"No." Steve shakes his head, clear drops of pool water flying from the ends of his hair. "No, he's a swim coach here. He says I'm good."

"Duh," says Eddie.

"You know you're good," says Max.

Steve grins. He does know he's good; it's written all over his face. But so is some bafflement and Eddie doesn't think that's faked.

"Yeah, but like, he wants to train me. He thinks I could compete?"

"Like at the Olympics?" Eddie asks, not totally sure where else swimming people go to swim.

Steve laughs, but only a little meanly. "Jumping a hell of a lot of steps there, Munson. But maybe State? I could maybe do State? I was supposed to be at tryouts last year, but." He shrugs.

"But Billy gave you a massive concussion," Max fills in for him.

Steve shrugs again.

Max kicks him, about as hard as she kicked Eddie. "You better have said yes to that guy or so help me I'll crawl after him myself."

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but they're sparkling. He looks excited, pleased in a way that Eddie hasn't seen for months. "Yeah," he says. "I said yes."

(Part three now here)

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I wanted to request a story where doctor!Remus and you are dating. You're out with James and Sirius whilst he's at work and you pass out/are sick/whatever you think fits the story and they freak out and take you to the hospital, where Remus sees you and loses his mind. He takes care of you and the guys are there for moral support. Also, reader is afraid of doctors in general but specially needles so putting that IV on is a hassle in itself hehe.

Thanks in advance!!!!

Hi, thanks for requesting!

cw: fear of hospitals and needles, somewhat angsty, mention of vomit (in the past tense, if that helps), this was sort of weird to write because I don't usually write reader arguing with their love interest like this but I hope it came out okay

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re alerted to Remus’ arrival by Sirius’ shrill voice. 

“Finally! I’ve been texting you.” 

“We’re not really encouraged to be checking our phones during busy shifts,” says Remus. He sounds sharp and tired, and you look up from where your head rests on James’ shoulder just as he comes to a stop in front of your chair. A creased brow and gentle hands feeling at your forehead. “Hi, darling. Seems like that flu’s gotten a bit worse, hm?”

“You told us to check in on her,” Sirius goes on, “and we did, and we found her basically in a puddle of her own sick.” 

“She’d been sick in the toilet, and then fell asleep on the bathmat,” James clarifies. “But she seemed really very ill.” 

“Let’s go back,” Remus slides an arm around your waist, hoisting you up against his side and helping you walk towards the double doors that lead out of the waiting area. “What was her temp at when you found her?” 

“We don’t know.” Sirius trails behind, exasperated. “We couldn’t figure out where you kept your thermometer, and she was hardly in a state to say.” 

Remus makes a worried humming sound. “How are you feeling, dovey?”

“Tired,” you sigh, hoping you’re not leaning too hard against him but having a difficult time recalling what walking normally feels like, “‘nd my head hurts.” 

“She seems a bit better than when we first found her,” James says. You think you detect some worry in his tone as well. “She was just waking up then, and Sirius got her to drink some water in the car.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Remus murmurs, just for you. He kisses your head. “Poor love, I knew I shouldn’t have come to work today.” 

“M’alright,” you say, letting him help you onto a small cot in a curtained-off room. Sirius and James file in behind you, and Remus shuts the curtain once they’re inside. 

You look at him, and your surroundings, the machines and tools and the overwhelming harshness of it all, start to sink in for you. 

“Can you take me home?”

Remus’ expression is gentle. “Not yet, sweetheart. You should be feeling much better once I do, though, yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face, encouraging you to lie back on the pillow. “Would one of you want to hop up here with her?” he asks the other boys, then to you: “You don’t mind sharing your bed, do you?”

“No,” you say, somewhat bemusedly. Sirius grins at you, climbing over you to lie down by your side. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna get your vitals now, dove.” 

You feel a bit silly, but your nerves worsen as Remus checks you over, sticking plasticy things in your ear and cold metal on your back and making his various concerned faces. He must notice something when he takes your pulse, because he thumbs over the skin of your forearm comfortingly. Sirius, noticing, works an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. 

“Alright,” Remus says in what you recognize to be his most soothing voice, “look at Sirius for me, please.” 

You, of course, look in the opposite direction of where he wants you, and he’s taking your arm, pushing up your sleeve. 

“Remus.��� Betrayal sounds in your voice as you pull away from him, holding your arm close to your side. 

He sighs. “You need fluids and medicine to get better. You want to go home, yeah?” 

“I don’t want an IV,” you say in a tight voice. 

Remus softens. He rubs your leg through your pajama pants. “I know, babydove, but you need to have one. I’ll get it over with as quickly as I can.” 

“I had to have one last summer, when I got dehydrated,” James pipes up. He’s stolen a small stool likely meant for the doctor and is swiveling back and forth restlessly. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. I hardly remembered it was there most of the time.” 

“I just don’t want to,” you say again, voice going quiet and frail. Your vision starts to blur. 

“Take a deep breath,” Remus coaches in that lulling voice. It’s half working, a familiar sort of comfort wrapping like a blanket around your frazzled nerves. You feel torn between your trust in your boyfriend and your absolute terror of everything that happens in a hospital. “You’re alright, yeah? This is the last thing you have to do for me. After, you can rest or have a nap, and when you’re well enough you can go home, okay? I might even be able to go with you.” 

You shake your head wordlessly, feeling ridiculous and childish but altogether petrified as you wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His brows pinch, and he leans over, kissing your temple. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Look over at Sirius, yeah?” 

You cry but don’t resist as Sirius uses the arm around your shoulders to turn your face away, feeling Remus take your arm in his grasp. His fingers press gently into the crook of your elbow. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says quietly. He touches his lips to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe, it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Remus is obviously doing his best to make good on this promise. He ties the tourniquet quickly, and something cold and wet swipes over your skin. The bite of the needle doesn’t come as a surprise, but you take in a tiny, petrified breath anyway. It rasps wetly in your throat. 

“You’re alright,” Remus murmurs, undoing the tourniquet as he speaks. “You’re doing so well, almost done now.” 

You’re not in pain, necessarily, but the sensation of a foreign object in your arm is distinctly unsettling, and Sirius makes a soft sound of distress when your weeping worsens. None of this is helping your headache, either. Your sinuses throb. 

“There.” You hear tape ripping, and then Remus is pressing it carefully over the spot in your arm. “There, done.” 

Sirius lets go of your face. The moment you turn around Remus’ is on you, brushing away your tears and kissing your hairline apologetically. 

“That’s it, darling, you can relax now. You did so well. Do you feel alright?” 

“He means are you cross with him,” James translates helpfully. 

Remus gives his friend an exasperated look, but his smile is sheepish. “That too, I suppose.” 

“Honestly?” Your voice is pitchy. It scratches against your flu-torn throat. “A little, but not really. I’ll get past it.” 

Remus gives a little laugh. “Oh, my love.” He bends forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “Thank you. I can live with that.” He holds the back of your head, rubbing between your shoulder blades firmly. When he lets you go, it’s with a kiss to your brow. “Sirius, get out of her bed. She needs to rest.” 

“Excuse me?” Sirius is affronted. “I think I’ve just proven I make an excellent pillow. And where am I supposed to sit? James has taken the only stool.” 

“He can stay,” you tell Remus. 

“Thank you, gorgeous. See? Jamie, come over here so we can watch a film on your phone.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let James scoot by on his stool. “Fine, but try to get some actual sleep. I want your temperature down when I come back to check on you, yeah?” 

“You’re the doctor,” Sirius points out, getting cozy on his side of the bed as you and James scroll through films. “What’s she supposed to do, will it down? Sod off.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering sigh, pulling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. “So glad you’re here.” 

“And where would your girl be if we weren’t, Rem?” asks James, looking up from his phone to raise his brows. “She’s lucky to have us.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaving the room. “Aren’t we all.”

[pr1ncessjo]

Jo. You asked I deliver 🤍🤍🤍

What about first kiss with wade that turns into first EVERYTHING. basically everything sexual lmaooooo. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

MDNI 18+ content ; shy/innocent fem!reader, corruption kink, fingering, lots of pet names, i'm ovulating can you tell?

tysm for the request angel !!! this is part one bc i got kinda stuck lol :P part two soon <333

losing your innocence to wade pt. 1

as much as wade teases and makes lewd jokes, he practiced an astonishing amount of patience when it came to your lack of sexual experience. he respected your boundaries (to some extent). of course, there was the occasional peek at your ass or 'accidental' boner while you cuddled on the couch. he couldn't help it. you were the most enticing thing to him and it drove him fucking mad. he was so used to immediate sex after (or during) the first date, but you really have thrown him for a loop. just as he's about to get close to you, you stop him.

"not yet..." you'll whisper with a little sheepish giggle. if it was any other girl, this would piss him the fuck off. the blue balls alone had him fighting internal demons. but that's the thing. you weren't just 'some girl'. there was something about this whole dynamic that kept wade insatiably hooked. he got to look at everything he couldn't touch and for some fucked up reason he was obsessed with how painful it was.

lucky for him, tonight he gets to look and touch.

you and him were currently snuggled up on the couch watching a random movie neither of you were really into. he had just got back from a mission, suit a little tattered and adrenaline through the roof.

"um, wade?" you ask shakily, pausing the movie and sitting up to face him.

he mirrors your posture so that you know you have his full attention. "somethin' wrong, sweets?" a gloved hand goes to your thigh, soothingly rubbing the skin your sleep shorts didn't cover.

you were trying to find the right words, opening your mouth to speak and closing it several times before huffing, clearly frustrated with yourself. little did he know, you were just has horny has he constantly was. you were simply better at hiding it. but not tonight. you physically couldn't wait any longer. albeit dramatic, you throw yourself at wade, straddling his lap and kissing him above the mask.

he doesn't deny you, but he's definitely shocked. "woah, woah, hey..." his hands find the sides of your face, leaning back as he catches his breath.

for a moment, you take his surprised state personally, feeling stupid and embarrassed. "sorry, that was stupid. i-" stumbling, you start to get off of him, but he firmly plants your hips back down on top of him.

"ah, ah, ah," he tuts, "where d'you think you're going, baby?" he peals his mask up just above the tip of his nose so you can see his mouth. "just thought your first kiss should be with an actual mouth."

you giggle, getting comfortable on his lap again. "oh yeah, right."

"alright, baby, take two. lights...camera..." he whispers, cupping your face and pulling you into a heated kiss, not caring to finish his sentence.

you're not sure what takes over, but your hips start to rock against him. the rough material of his suit against your skin feels so good. judging by the erection you start to feel beneath you, he's feeling good too.

"ohhhh, i see," wade muses, noticing how you desperately chase the friction between you two, "you wanna try me on for size, pumpkin?" he asks, but it's clearly rhetorical because he doesn't wait for a response, gripping your hips and rocking you back and forth against his bulge.

"shit, wade..." you mumble, as the bunched up fabric of his suit hits your clit just right. the sensation was new, but you were hooked, wanting-craving more.

"just wait, baby. haven't even gotten to the main course." he teases, pealing his mask back down before picking you up and walking to your bedroom. his brash action elicits a squeal from you as he quickly kicks the door open and places you gently on the bed. this is new for him, the whole 'slow and gentle thing', but there is something so undeniably hot about how you watch his every move wide-eyed and innocent. he can see your chest rise and fall as he crawls on the bed, resting on his knees between your legs. "mind if i pop the hood, see what i'm workin' with, doll-face?"

eagerly, you nod, chewing your lip with anticipation. with your approval, he doesn't waste a goddamn second, tugging down your shorts to reveal a lacy pair of black panties. if that wasn't enough to get him going, the burgundy little bow in the center definitely is.

"black and red...like your suit." you whisper out shyly, praying he doesn't think it's too much.

"jesus h. christ, baby, i'm hard as a fuckin' rock." he says bluntly, toying with the fabric, "look at you-fuck, look at you...." he starts to thumb your clit over the fabric, your arousal dampening the area more and more by the second. "ah, dry cleaning bill is gonna be a nightmare, but fuck it." he says, more to himself than you, as his pulls your panties down and circles your weeping entrance with his gloved finger.

"oh-" your hips jerk at the new feeling, back lifting off the bed as his digit sinks inside you.

"so tight, sweet thing." he clicks his tongue, trying to stretch you out with another finger, "can't believe i'm the lucky bastard that gets to do this to you for the first time..." wade shakes his head to himself with a chuckle, curling two fingers inside of you.

his skillful prodding has you soaked, biting your lip as you gazed at him flushed. you needed more and quickly.

wade notes your impatience, pulling his fingers out and examining how your arousal dripped down his glove onto the sheets, "huh, well would'ya look at that, pumpkin....someone's excited."

taglist 𓉸ྀི @maneskinwh0re (lmk if you'd like to be added !!)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

close to you . .

just like me, they long to be. .

" what the hell are you doing ?"

you look away from your screen to stare at your boyfriend from beneath the mountain of pillows you’re laying under. there are snacks ranging from sweet to salty strewn all around your bed and a spot right next to you saved specifically for him.

you raise a brow " i’m watching my show." you state. katsuki’s eye twitches. he stalks towards you slowly, menacingly, like he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce at you. you shove your chin and nose underneath your blankets.

"you’re watching our show. " he corrects, squinting at you "you’re watching. our show." he reiterates.

"katsu-"

" our show. an’ yer fuckin’ watching it without me." he glares daggers into your fucking soul and with the rage of a thousand suns as he spits the words out like they had somehow caused him harm.

"you said i could start without you last time !" you defend weakly. he rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you and climbs into your bed "yeah, last time, but this ain’t last fuckin’ time, dumbass." he growls. you whine when he lifts up your blankets and the cold air nips at you. "oh shut up, big baby, weren’t whinin’ when ya decided ta watch the one show you know we watch together." his words are mean but he scoots impossibly closer to you

you scoot over to make some extra space for him so he can lay down comfortably before squeezing yourself right next to him again. “you’re the one who said, and i quote ‘ i could give less of a shit about this stupid show, just don’t have anything better to do” he scrunches his nose at your crude impression of him. “ i don’t fuckin’ sound like that.”

“it’s what you sound like to me.” you retort.

he growls, nipping at your ear which causes you to let out a giggle mixed with a little squeal “needa get yer fuckin’ ears checked then.”

“i just started anyway. i can just rewind it” you lean forward to place your mouse back to the beginning and plop back on your pillow with a groan. katsuki snorts. “ i was gonna wait for you, but you were taking too long” you mumble out already invested in the images on screen.

katsuki knocks his forehead against the side of your head softly then also turns his attention to the screen. “ it’s shitty hair’s fault” he gruffs out “fucker kept on yappin’ about whatever the fuck, couldn’t leave.”

you fake gasp in shock. pretending to be hurt you place a hand on your chest and look at him wide eyed. he raises a brow “wow. i can’t believe you like kirishima more than me.” you turn your nose up at him and hold back a laugh when you see his expression morph from confused to straight up insulted.

“where the fuck d’you get that from?!” you can’t keep up the façade when you see his face and burst out laughing, his facial expressions are seriously something else. he relaxes slightly but he still doesn’t look amused. “i’m just joking. i know you just wanted to be nice” you reassure, his face relaxes and his shoulders sag as he releases a frustrated sigh. “you know, since he’s your friend.”

he cracks his head to look at you, wide eyed and brows furrowed he shoves his head against yours so hard he basically headbutts you. you let out a little yelp and laugh “don’t even start with that ! fucker ain’t my friend." he spits the word friend like it tastes gross in his mouth, it makes you laugh even harder. “right~” you sing.

you think things have calmed down after a little bit, your both watching your show, then katsuki suddenly knocks his forehead against your head again.

“hey.” he mumbles. you blink up at him waiting for him to finish. he chews at his lip and looks towards the screen then looks back at you, cheeks turning pink.

"ya know i don’t…like him more than you, right..?"

you tilt your head "who ?" you ask. he grunts like speaking is physically challenging, his face turning redder by the second “shitty hair. don’t like ‘im more than you." his eyes dart away then focus back on yours " don’t like anyone more than you."

you feel your cheeks flush and you suddenly feel extremely warm and giddy. you giggle and his cheeks darken in color "where's this coming from?" you chortled. he scoffs at you and pokes you in the stomach, turning back to the look at the screen to avoid your mushy warm loving gaze. "fuckin'—nowhere ! m'not allowed to…fuckin—!" he fumbles around for what to say. you decide to spare him and place your hands on his scorching cheeks, he struggles a little bit (barely) but let's you turn his head towards you, he pouts at you, trying his best to look intimidating but he just looks like a angry little kicked puppy.

"m'just teasing you , suki" you're rubbing his cheek with your thumb and his eyebrows stay furrowed despite him leaning into your touch "i know you don't like him more than me, if you did, i don't think you'd be here" he rolls his eyes and bites at the palm of your hand. you chuckle "i don't like anyone more than you, either" you're sure there are hearts in your eyes as you speak, you hope he can see them.

" 'f course you don’t." he mumbles out the words into your palms fast without missing a beat, it tickles. he smirks into your hand when he sees you roll your eyes at him, he truly is a little shit.

"don't like nobody more than you." he proclaims quietly, closing his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks.

"yeah" you purr, the hearts in your eyes spread all around your body to the tips of your fingers and toes, it makes you warm and soft, and so fond of him. you don't like anybody more than katsuki, you can't. not when he opens his eyes and gazes at you with burning cheeks but hearts in his eyes and you hope the ones in yours spread all around his body too, because his have started to intermingle with yours, coursing through your veins.

"yeah." you sigh, " yeah me neither."

you can't like anyone more than you do katsuki as you watch your show together.

@slashersl0t i wrote this thanks to you twin <3 !

[steddiehyperfixation]

with blonde hair and a tan

steddie brainworms so bad i wrote this silly little thing immediately after watching the rocky horror picture show for the first time the other night lol @steddie-spooktober day 30: "where in the hell did you find that costume?" | 1083 words | T |

Eddie can hear Steve and Robin squabbling as he makes his way up the stairs to Steve's room. 

“I just don't know about this, Rob.” 

“It was your idea!” 

“It's too much. I should wear something else.” 

“Little late for that now.” 

“Well-”

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” Eddie stops in the doorway, frozen in a state of shock at the scene in front of him. His mouth hangs open, eyes wide, and a sudden heat rises in his cheeks. 

Because Steve is standing in front of his mirror wearing only a tiny metallic gold speedo and matching gold boots, his great expanse of tanned skin and muscles and body hair on full display. Robin stands next to him with a spray can of wash out bleach-blonde hair dye at the ready. 

Steve looks over at Eddie. “It's too much, isn't it? I knew it. I told you,” he says to Robin, gesturing at Eddie as if his reaction proves his point. “Look at his face, even he's embarrassed for me.” 

Robin snorts. “Yeah, I don't think that's why he's blushing, Steve-o.” 

“No one’s even gonna know who I am,” Steve continues to complain, thankfully ignoring Robin’s comment. 

“Rocky,” Eddie says. His voice comes out weird and cracked; he clears his throat. “You're Rocky, from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” 

“See?�� Now it's Robin’s turn to gesture towards Eddie in vindication. “Totally recognizable. Totally good. It's just one party, and you've got all that unwarranted jock confidence, you'll be fine.” She pats Steve on the shoulder, then turns and tosses the spray dye at Eddie. “Here. You can take over spraying his hair. I have to finish getting myself ready.” 

Eddie fumbles trying to catch the spray can, his attempt to stammer out a protest falling on deaf ears as Robin pushes past him out of the room. “Okay.” He sighs. This is fine. He can totally handle being left alone with this literal golden adonis without getting heart palpitations. He can be cool and chill and normal. He can. 

Steve looks amused. “You don't have to. I can probably manage spraying my own hair just fine,” he says when Eddie still hasn't moved. 

“No, I got it.” Eddie shakes his head, shaking himself into motion. “You won't be able to get the back right on your own anyways.” He approaches Steve - with great restraint, he might add, because there's a part of his brain that's all animal right now and it's just raring to pounce on him. “So are you done trying to talk yourself out of this costume, then?” 

Steve chews at his lip as he studies his reflection again. “I think so,” he decides. His gaze flicks up to meet Eddie's eyes in the mirror. “You really don't think it's too much?” 

Eddie breaks the mirror eye contact before his face can turn any more red, fixing his focus singularly on starting to spray the blonde dye onto Steve's hair. “No, you uh, you look good. You really should've warned me- told me, I mean, what you were gonna be. I would've matched your theme, could've gone as Dr. Frank N Furter.” (His current costume in comparison is quite boring, just a basic vampire - albeit with some pretty impressive fake blood around his mouth if he does say so himself, but ultimately nothing special.)

“Now that would be something,” Steve mutters, the words a little breathier all of the sudden, but Eddie still doesn't dare let his glance wander from his hair. His voice is back to normal in a second anyway. “Well, there's always next year.” 

“Yeah, next year,” Eddie echoes. That really would be something, both of them in flamboyantly skimpy costumes. He's not sure if that would make this situation better or worse for him. 

He pushes up some of Steve's hair to make sure he's covered all the layers in the back, his fingers accidentally brushing along the skin of his neck, and Steve shivers. Eddie finds himself watching with an odd satisfaction as the goosebumps ripple up in the wake of his touch. 

“I think I might freeze to death like this, though,” Steve comments with a self-deprecating chuckle that just barely conceals that weird breathiness that's returned to his voice. “I probably should've considered that before I decided to go out half naked at night in the middle of fall.” 

“I bet you could easily find someone to keep you warm tonight,” Eddie tells him, forcing detachment. He locks his attention back on his hair dyeing work. “You walk in there looking like this and you'll have all the girls at the party falling at your feet. Probably even some of the guys too,” he adds, remembering Steve recently came out as bisexual. 

“Yeah?” Steve sounds like he's smiling, or maybe smirking. He tries (unsuccessfully) to catch Eddie's eyes again as Eddie moves in front of him to get to the last few pieces of hair. “And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Would you be one of them?” 

Eddie finishes with the hairspray, nothing left to keep using as an excuse to avoid his attention. He finally looks at Steve's face and raises an eyebrow, deflecting. “You want me to fall at your feet, Harrington?” 

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He glances down for a moment, then looks back up at him from under his lashes and takes a step closer. “I want you to keep me warm,” he clarifies in a murmur as he reaches for Eddie's free hand and guides it to hold his waist. Eddie's blood ignites at the touch and the look Steve's giving him, flames racing along his veins. 

That's as good an invitation as any, and Eddie's restraint shatters. He draws Steve hungrily to his lips. How could he not? The spray can falls from his grip in favor of using both hands to pull Steve closer and roam his body. And if Eddie's wandering hands linger for a while in their investigation of that perfect gold-clad ass, well that's between them and the lovely little sound Steve makes against his open mouth. 

And Robin, who has the misfortune of poking her head back into the room right then. 

She yelps and jumps out of view of the scene, banging her fist against the wall just next to the doorway to get their attention instead. “When you guys are done being gross,” she shouts, “there's a party we're gonna be late for!” 

[reidmania]

ILL ALWAYS COME GET YOU | SPENCER REID

description ;

Drinking your feelings after a bad day isn’t always a great idea, good thing your boyfriend, Spencer will always come get you.

Warnings ;

Fluff, slight angst but nothing crazy I dont think there is any gender mentioned, but let me know if there is, Mentions alcohol consumption, bad day at work, crying, basically spencer just comforting the fuck out of drunk reader. I think thats it.

a/n ;

i need spencer reid to comfort me when im drunk. NOT MY GIF!!

There was heavy blows of cold air that passed through the streets, the ones which were only being lit by the half broken street lights on every corner.

You could hear the faint sound of the music playing inside the bar that you had just stumbled out of, mixed with the cars driving past on the street. After maybe 5 drinks too many, everything was a little bit blurry, everything sort of sounded the same all at once.

Shaky hands reached for the phone that was buried somewhere in your big jacket pockets. The jacket was big and warm — not enough to shield you from the cold air.

Was it a smart decision to go to the bar and drink your body weight in alcohol — no, but emotional and stressed, you weren’t completely thinking straight when leaving work at merely 5pm, it had been hours, nearing 11.

It was meant to just be a couple of drinks to take the pressure off, then when the bartender asked you if you were okay, and the tear-flood started, every drink after that was a no brainer, soon enough you had enough to no longer worry about the damage the amount of alcohol you were consuming would do to your bank account.

Your hands fumbled with your phone, grateful for face ID since you doubted you would be coordinated enough to type your password without messing it up countless times and ending up locking yourself out of it.

It was a slight struggle trying to press on your contacts, when a few — probably just as drunk people, walked out of the bar behind you, reminding you that you were still stood in the doorway. After you shuffled over slightly, now out of the way. Your eyes stared at Spencer’s contact through blurry vision, considering whether or not it was worth calling — He was still working when you last spoke, maybe he was still at the office, busy, or better yet in bed asleep.

After a small sigh left your lips, the warm air from your mouth contradicting the cold air on the streets, a stem of steam followed your breath, which you found fascinating in your drunken state for a moment, before your attention was pulled back to your phone by the ringing sound.

Seeing Spencer’s contact light up your phone brought a small smile to your sad face, you were quick to answer, yet it took a minute to realise you had to put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You heard Spencers voice, softening a piece of your chest slightly. You assumed maybe he had been saying hello for the few seconds it had taken for you to pull your phone to your ear.

“Hi” You muttered back, drunk feet shuffling slightly as your words slurred. There were a few people still wandering around, going in and out of the bar, talking to each other or giving you strange looks which would’ve made you a little more insecure if the alcohol didn’t influence that part of your mind.

“Hey angel.” Spencer said, letting out a soft sigh of relief hearing your voice. “Where are you? You aren’t home” He said, voice itching with slight concern.

Your lips parted as you realised he had come home and you weren’t there — which would’ve been confusing because he knew you finished work hours ago, maybe you should have told him beforehand that you were planning on drinking your feelings in tequila shots.

“Im drunk” You said, not quite processing the question you had been asked.

You could hear Spencer chuckle on the other side of the phone, “I can tell baby, Where are you?” He asked, his voice was so soft and gentle, it almost made you emotional.

“Um” You hummed, spinning on your heels which only caused you to stumble slightly over your phone feet as you looked at the bar, which had its name written across the top, only that was a bit harder to read within your blurry vision.

“I dont know.” You pouted slightly, “That one bar” You muttered, hoping maybe he would know the exact one you were talking about. You assumed he would — it was the closest bar to your shared home, and the one you two went most often.

“Yeah?” He muttered, you nodded. Yet he couldn’t see that. There was a sound of slight shuffling on the other side of the phone, before you heard a door open and shut.

“I don’t think I can drive” You frowned as you looked around to try and find where your car was parked, you had come straight after work.

Spencer chuckled again. The sound was so comforting to you in your drunken state. Maybe it was silly how it made your downturned lips shift upwards into almost a smile.

“Im gonna pick you up, Angel. Just stay where you are for me okay?” He said. You heard another door open and close, which you assumed was his own car door. You hummed softly in agreement.

For the course of the next few minutes there was no conversation had between the two of you, you sat silently watching the cars on the street, while Spencer drove the few minutes down the road to the bar.

Soon the call ended, leaving you to frown as you stared at the phone, seeing it go back to where it was before you answered the call — on his contact. Before you even got the chance to call him back and cry about how rude it was for him to hang up on you like that, you heard your name being called.

Your head turned to the sound of his voice. He was standing there — still in his work clothes, making your frown only deepen, he hadn’t even had the chance to relax or change before he had to come pick you up.

“Hey baby” He cooed, taking your face in his hands as stood in front of you, taking in your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the soft skin on your face.

You subconsciously leaned into the touch of his warm hands as you looked up at him, “You’re here” You said, sighing softly as you relished the warmth his body radiated.

He nodded, “Of course Im here. You wanna get home? You’re freezing.” He said, shaking his head softly, moving his hands from your face to your hands — which were seemingly colder.

You nodded wordlessly, he took that and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, leading you to his car. You tried not to stumble but it wasn’t working, without Spencer there holding your body tightly against his own you probably would’ve already fallen flat on your face. If he noticed your stumbling — he didn’t say anything.

He helped you into the passenger seat, before leaning over you slightly to pull your seatbelt on, despite your best efforts to do it yourself.

“But my car—” You muttered, sitting up a bit straighter as the realisation dawned on you that your car would be left here, your head turned slightly as the passenger seat door closed, Spencer didn’t say anything, before walking over to the drivers seat.

He got in. He must of noticed your distressed eyes staring at him when he looked over at you, pulling his own seatbelt on. “Your car is fine honey, we can come get it in the morning.”

You chewed at your lip as you looked down, nodding wordlessly at his solution. He drove without saying anything, but his hand sat warmly ontop of your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down gently as your head laid back against the head rest.

When you arrived outside your shared home, Spencer was quick by your side helping you out of the car and into the house, where he sat you down on the couch. The house was warm, which lead you to believe he had turned the heater on when he got home — or before he left to pick you up.

He returned to the living room with a large glass of water. “Drink” He hummed, handing you the glass. His hand stayed holding it till he was sure you had it tight in your grasp.

You nodded, taking a few small sips of it, before lowering it slightly. He shook his head dismissively, “All of it, Honey.” He said, two of his fingers brushing under the glass, encouraging it back up towards your lips.

You sighed, before obeying. Taking a few larger sips of water before the glass grew empty. Spencer hummed approvingly, taking the glass from your hands; standing up.

“Where are you going?” You pouted, looking up at him with a small hitch in your eyebrows. You could feel the heat blowing down from the ceilings, onto your bare legs.

Spencer paused in his movements, giving you a soft smile as he noticed your concern — as if you believed maybe he was leaving. “Getting you more water” He said.

“Spence.” Your tone was warning, dismissive of the idea of having to drink another large glass of water. He just continued walking to the kitchen. You heard the tap turn on and off before he returned, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands.

“You don’t have to drink this one all in one, you can just sip it” He said, before taking a seat next to you again, watching your head nod up and down softly.

You chewed at your lip, avoiding his gaze as even in your drunken state, your mind couldn’t seem to stop working over time — which was what got you in this position in the first place.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, his body turning more towards your own. You looked up at him for a moment. It was a dangerous question he was asking, especially in your current state.

“I don’t know” You shrugged. It was the best you could muster up without spilling every little doubt in your mind. You didn’t know. You guessed that drinking your emotions automatically meant you weren’t okay, but it wasn’t like you were dying, or anything you wouldn’t get over.

Spencer sighed, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you in your own world, living in your head. He knew you did this — overthought everything, worked yourself up.

“Why did you drink?” He asked, realising this may get more of an answer out of you to what was actually the matter — what the cause of your drunken state was.

You leant into his shoulder slightly, head resting on his chest, under his chin. His arm wasted no time wrapping around you shoulder, only pulling you in closer.

Your voice was quiet, words still slight slurred as you spoke — but they had been the whole time. “Work sucked” Your voice was barley audible — Your boyfriend would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying you his full attention.

That was a rare occasion anyways.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asked, hand rubbing soothingly over your clothed arm. You were quiet for a moment as you felt the tears reoccur in the back of your eyes. It seemed they had been there all day.

You shrugged, only making his frown deepen. He realised quickly — talking about it was not what you needed right now, what you did need in this moment — he was unsure of.

So he asked; “What do you need honey?”

You felt a hot tear against your cheek at the question. You were quick to wipe it away, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, he could hear the sadness in your voice, the need and desperation for some sort of comfort.

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head, humming in response. “Course I can. Do you want to go change? Get into bed?” He asked softly, pulling you slightly away from his chest to look at your face, his own falling slightly as he noticed the big wet tears on your cheeks.

You nodded as a soft sob rippled from your throat, making his frown deepen. His thumb was instantly wiping your eyes softly. “Oh sweetheart” He cooed at your sad eyes. “Come on, lets go to bed”

Before you could even move to stand, his arms were around your waist, lifting you up gently. His hands holding you close to his chest as he walked to your shared bed room.

The entire way he was muttering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that everything was okay, that he loved you.

He placed you gently on the bed as he walked towards the wardrobe, He changed himself quickly into his pyjamas, any other time you would’ve cooed and adored the way he looked.

“Your clothes or mine?” He asked. It wasn’t an uncommon question, sometimes after showing together he would ask you if you wanted to wear his clothes or your own. It was a cute nothing.

“Yours.” You muttered, hand pulling to brush strands of hair out of your face as you watched him nod, grabbing out a pair of your own sweatpants, his t-shirt, and your favourite hoodie of his.

It was funny at first when you discovered he actually owned hoodies.

He was by your side moments later, gently pulling the big coat off your shoulders, before undressing you from the business attire you had been wearing all day, helping you into the clothes he had brought out for you.

Only minutes later your head was resting against his chest — the tears had officially stopped, his arms wrapped around you as your legs intertwined with his.

“Take the day off tomorrow” He whispered softly into your hair. You could feel the alcohol slowly processing away, not enough to be sober but enough to be a little more there.

You would’ve argued any other time, but you just nodded against his chest, before leaning away slightly, reaching over to grab your phone from where Spencer had plugged it in on your beside table.

He chuckled, grabbing your arm, “Tomorrow baby, not now.” He said softly.

You again didn’t argue, returning to your position before, hand scrunching into the fabric of Spencer’s pyjama top gently. “Thank you for coming to get me” You muttered tiredly as your eyes closed, breathing in his scent that only soothed every muscle in your body.

“I’ll always come get you.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Dan Heng. Poor, sweet Dan Heng. He needs a break after everything that's happened and what better way to relax then to give him a massage? But, (un) fortunately, he gets turned on when you touch his body, so he has another problem to deal with.

poor little sensitive baby :(

Dom!Reader x sub!dan heng

warning: massage, Dan heng is super sensitive, a little nsfw

After coming back from penacony, you noticed Dan heng looking more tired and fed up than usual. It must have been a stressful event, for him to look this exhausted. You also caught him rubbing his own neck and trapeze muscle from time to time. He definitely overworked himself again, his muscles must be so sore from being strained so much. That boy, he really doesn’t know how to take care of himself does he? which is why you, as his lover, had to care for him especially well. Who will take care of him if not you? That’s why one day, after he returned to his room in the database, he saw you sitting by his bed and looking through his stuff. “What are you doing here? It’s late.” He asked, it’s rare for you to come to him this late. Isn’t this setting a little too intimate? Sure, the two of you have been dating for a long time, but you two never slept together yet. Reason? He’s too embarrassed.

“I was waiting for you! Come here.” You chirped cheerfully, waving him over to you. When he got close enough, you moved to the side and patted the spot next to you. After a bit hesitation, he reluctantly sat down, frowning in confusion. “So, what is it?” He questioned you again, in response you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers. “I feel like you’ve been tired lately, can I do something to help?” Since he was curious, you decided to be honest with him.

Ah, so that’s what this is. You were overprotective of him again. “I’m fine, there’s no need to worry.” Dan heng straightened his back, trying to appear as unbothered and normal as possible. But to you, his posture seemed very tense. “Are you sure?” The sincerity could be heard from your voice, and he felt it becoming more challenging to refuse your kind offer. “Yes, but I’ll let you know if I need help.” This should put you at ease, right?

You stared at him for a while, then looked down, sighing, “I see, alright then.” He felt bad for worrying you like this, thinking you must not like seeing him in such a pathetic state. So he mumbled to himself that he’d put up a better act next time. Just as he thought you were going to leave, you proposed another idea, “can I at least massage you then? I know your muscles are tense.” Dan heng was going to refuse again when you pushed him down, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the bed. The boy immediately turned red, eyes widened as you said, “no but’s, I promise it will help!

after a rather long debate of him reassuring you that he was fine and you insisting on wanting to take care of him, he finally surrendered and turned to lay on his belly. You wanted him to take off his clothes first, but once again, he was too ashamed. At least he took off his coat, so now he’s only wearing his black top and pants.

Gently, you brushed your index finger over his neck and shoulders, trying to feel where the bumps are. These are the tense and uncomfortable parts. Then you kneaded the skin, starting off lightly and gradually becoming more persistent. You also used more strength, always making sure to ask him first before regulating the force you use. Your fingers rubbed him up and down, massaging every spot. At some point his body also moved back and forth due to the amount of strength you used.

Once his muscle loosened up, you moved lower, hands now massaging his shoulder blades and back. Your movements slide across his body, gliding along his spine, all while making sure he’s comfortable. He haven’t uttered a single word yet since you started, he didn’t even groan or gasp. At least you knew by his body language that he was doing fine. When you went even lower, to the point you were basically holding and squeezing his waist, he couldn’t help but squirm around.

At first your fingertips felt cold, and he flinched when you grabbed his hips. Then it tickled, causing him to shake and wriggle which he found very humiliating. Just when he finally got used to it, you turned him onto his back, making him look at you and raised his leg over your shoulder. “W-wait..!? Why are you…!” He instantly covered his face with his hands out of reflex, and turned to the side to avoid your gaze. “I’m massaging you?” You replied sceptical, holding his shin before kneading his muscles there. “I bet you’ve been running around a lot as well.”

After hearing that, he understood what you were getting at, but it was still too much for him. Now you were sitting between his legs, spreading them apart and clasping one over your shoulder. It looks so weird, considering he was at the lower angle, looking up to you massaging his leg from the bottom to the top. This didn’t help his already trembling and twitching body, it only intensified the sensations. “Ha-hnnGh…” Dan heng let out a quiet whimper, and you stopped to lean closer to his face.

“Sorry, was that too much force?” You asked, wondering if you hurt him. His face was all red and sweaty already, was it that painful? “I-I’m fine.. go on.” The male whispered, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “Alright then.” You said, before continuing what you did moments ago. And of course, when you were done, you had to repeat the same process with the other leg. He has the same reaction, hands desperately covering his mouth while his quivered.

Slowly, you took him by his knee and ankle, then slipped his leg down from your shoulder again. “I’m done.” You proudly proclaimed, only to be met with a flustered dan heng who’s still hiding away from you. His hair was messy from him turning and trashing so much, face still carefully out of your view. His entire frame was shaking, and you had to admit, he was adorable. When your oblivious gaze accidentally scanned over his lower body, you finally caught on and froze. So that’s what got him acting this way.

You pinned him down by hovering over him, hands pressing down on the bed on either side of his face. He noticed how your shadow creeped over him, signalising you noticed. “…I don’t want to hear you say anything.” Dan heng muttered under his breath, still against showing you his face. But how could you not tease him when the situation is like this? In the end, you still chuckled and said, “well? I didn’t know you were such a naughty boy.”

Oh-oh, his face just got even redder.

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. SHOWER ACTION.

You already know that Atsumu's in the shower before you hear him in it, nudging the front door shut behind you, heels falling off of your groaning feet. The first matchup of the pre-season has ensured that.

Muscle memory makes you step over the routine dufflebag he drops in the very middle of the entryway, shaking the strap off of your ankle when it catches. His sweater's on the back of the couch.

You'd take it down the hallway with you, but you follow the clothes like a roadmap instead. Toeing along, kicking his track pants out of the way with a scoff, rolling your eyes and wondering how he completely missed the hamper.

An athlete, he calls himself.

The shower turns your bedroom hot, steaming up the windows from the open ensuite door, the mirror dripping with water. You can feel the humidity ruining the hair you worked so hard to keep tidy this morning.

"Atsumu?" You sigh, tugging it loose and glancing at him through the mirror.

It's more so what you can see of him— the frosted glass of the shower punishes you mostly, keeps you to watching his blurry body turn, his head twist to your voice. You can see him turn to face the water again.

"Hey baby. How's work?"

"I'm gonna guess better than the game today?" You pick up his sweaty jersey with your foot, taking in the distinct yet familiar smell of sharp pines and locker room. "Judging by the state of our home."

Atsumu breathes out sheepishly, but it sounds like a grin. "I'll clean it all up, don't worry."

"I know you will."

"Yeah, for sure." He hesitates, humming when he rubs at the crook of his neck. "Maybe tomorrow morning? Swear."

You don't care when he cleans it up, really. Your eyes haven't left the shower.

Quietly, you start to undo your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders and peeling it off of your sticky skin. You toss it near Atsumu's abandoned shorts.

"Been in there a while?" you huff, blindly turning on the fan. "Hot as hell in here."

"Everything hurts," he groans. "Fuckin' hate coming off the off-season— not used to it."

You purse your lips. "Gonna stay in for a little while longer?"

It's quiet, aside from the shower running. His shadow moves, leans closer to the glass before standing upright again. His hands tease you over the top, combing through his hair.

"If someone wants to keep me company, can't really say no."

(He must sense your eyes rolling, because he chuckles and slips the door open a crack.)

You shimmy your tight skirt down your legs, stepping out of everything embarrassingly fast. Your cami ends up hanging off the sink and your pantyhose are in a ball, but Atsumu's waiting hand has you getting inside the shower as fast as you can manage.

Where he isn't drenched in water, he's painted by a thin sheen of heat, the steam of the shower dripping down his temple. His hand welcomes you first, guiding you closer so his lips can greet you next.

Atsumu rests a hand on the side of your face, droplets of water swarming down your chest like snakes. He kisses you sloppily, tongue trying at yours the second you let him, teeth grazing your lip when you pull away like he's begging you to stay.

"Sore, huh?"

His eyes travel down— over your chest, sternum, hips. His hands follow in the same order like a drill— tits, chest, beautiful, beautiful hips. "Forget I said anything 'bout that,"

"You should rest, really,"

"Stop teasin' me, it's just cruel," he frowns, "need you to give me a cure tonight,"

"Yeah? It's called eight hours of sleep and Voltaren."

He rolls his eyes, lidded with said sleep— the hand holding yours that pulls you closer and his half-hard cock between you say something entirely different.

Atsumu's hand gropes your ass, fingertips dinging into fat until you get impossibly closer, until he's basically against your stomach and you're basically just looking at his lips.

"You should—"

"Should," he emphasizes, murmured against your mouth as he kisses you again, chaste but lingering, "but this is what I'm actually gonna do."

"What?"

"You," he hums, tucking a strand of your half-wet hair behind your ear, blocking the water and hoarding you to himself. "Gonna be my cleanse."

You snort, fingers smoothing over his abs and down to the base of his cock, nails gently running over the dark trail of hair. "That right?"

"Mmmyeah," he says through a groan, yawning before he slots a hand in between your legs, trailing it up your inner thigh as you finally get him in your hand. It's the only place he's wanted to be all night, besides your bed. "Feel so fuckin' good, fuck,"

You sigh against his chest, tilting your head up to taste him again. Like spearmint, like the gum he must've chewed on the drive home just knowing you'd end up here.

"Shit, alright," he sighs, hips lazily rolling into your palm as you look up at him with eyes that make him wanna pass out.

"Gotta choose now— you wanna be on your knees first or do ya want 'em over my shoulders?"

You breathe out a laugh, sliding your hands over his slippery arms, over every muscled ridge as you lower yourself to the tile floor, kissing his hip when you get there. "Romantic, really."

Atsumu's body tilts your way, chasing your lips down, leaning into your touch as he brushes a thumb over your cheek. The kiss you place on his flushed tip is greatly appreciated— he lets you know it.

"Yeah, honey, I try," he breathes. He smiles so warmly down at you that it's almost like you're not about to suck him off. "Just wait until I get you to bed, yeah?"

"We both know you're falling asleep."

"Well, after we get outta here you will be, too."

"Mm, we'll see."

Atsumu barks a laugh, delicately running his hand up your nape before taking a stronger hold on the base of your hair.

"Oh, you're so on."