#gift fic :D

[jadescribbles]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Manga), 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fern & Frieren (Frieren), Frieren & Himmel (Frieren) Characters: Fern (Frieren), Frieren (Frieren), Himmel (Frieren), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: One Shot, Fluff, Missing Scene, Canon Compliant, No Spoilers, POV Third Person, takes place vaguely during the granz channel cleanup, Himmel is mentioned enough I feel he deserves his own tag, dead wife-ing the narrative as always u go king Summary:

Frieren squints up at the ceiling, contemplating her choices from here. Honestly, a thousand years of living and she doesn’t know how to handle a human child—Himmel would not be disappointed in her, but she feels like he should be.

Frieren attempts to placate an upset Fern.

[thrumugnyr]

My @acotargiftexchange gift for @witch-and-her-witcher: Secret lovers Tamlin and Rhysand

Big thanks go out to Santa helper @highlordofkrypton, who graciously offered to contribute a little ficlet for the piece as well~! You can read it under the cut:

Meet me when the spirit blossoms bloom

The stars fall from the sky, sneaky little droplets under the cover of Night. They slip through the crack of Tamlin’s window, dancing across his sheets with their tails entwined like held hands. The bright baubles play, forgetting their missive for a brief moment of joy. The littlest one tumbles, bumping right into the young lord’s chin. It scrambles over his lips and wiggles under his nose until its a—ah—

“Achoo!”

Tamlin wakes with a surprise. He looks at the lights, and they pass on the message with great theatrics. He scoops them into his arms, and carries them to the window sill where they may watch, or leave. Whatever they please. He dresses swiftly, faster than the anxious beat of his heart.

I shouldn’t. I can’t allow this to continue.

And yet, his fingers fly across the buttons of his shirt, buttoning them with swift ease. His body thrums with eagerness. Each thump in his chest speaks his truth: I want to see him, I want to see him, I want to see him. Tamlin scoops up the stars as he leaps onto the sill, gently tossing them into the sky. They have a duty now, too, to watch over them and warn them of danger. With each escape, Tamlin cannot help but expect the sound of the alarms, of the furious steps of his brothers and of his name twisted into that of a traitor’s, but it never comes. One day, it will, but he takes today for himself and gifts it to the one who summons him.

Tamlin slips out of his father’s court and flies the rest of the way, trusting his great tawny wings to carry him where he needs to go. Past Summer, past Winter and over the Middle. If these Lords sense his trespassing, they say nothing.

I have to tell him. I have to be strong for both of us.

The meadow in Dawn is one of many safe spaces where duty, tradition and expectation cannot find them. It is a quiet place shielded by trees where alabaster flowers bloom. Their cores are not of colourful pollen, but of tiny little wisps, little spirits of neither human nor faerie nature. The wisps keep their secret, and Tamlin will be eternally grateful to them.

There is no choice to make, only something he must do. Love or life. He cannot love if one of them is dead. By ending this, he is protecting both of them. He is making sure that his beauty, his wonder and his charm carry on somewhere in this damned world, even if it’s not with Tamlin. 

He will change lives. He has already changed mine.

It’s different in his presence. Rhysand brings the moon and the stars with him, his personal guard while the rest of the nation slumbers. A dashing smile blooms on his handsome features, growing wider and wider at the sight of Tamlin. His joy is clear on his face, and the flush on his cheeks is a matching pair to Tamlin’s.

“Rhysand,” Tamlin breathes.

“Darling,” Rhysand hums, reaching for him.

“Wait—”

The words get caught in his throat as he sees the elation in Rhysand’s face falter. The smile slips away, replaced with worry and… sadness.

“What is it?” Rhysand asks, just a whisper, as if he can still prevent the moment from shattering.

I can’t do it.

Tamlin closes his eyes, shaking his head. He exhales, and leans in close. “I think… I think I’m in love with you.”

Rhysand chuckles in relief. He bumps his head against Tamlin’s, mindful of his antlers. “I thought you were going to say something else. I love you too.”

There’s a sorrow in Rhysand’s eyes that never quite leaves, no matter how fine he appears. He knows what Tamlin was going to say. The end is coming, sooner or later, but not now. Not if Rhysand can help it.

Just one more day.

One more day by the spirit blossoms.

[nicedracula]

KISS ME, [[Pygmalion]]

[sachielsstuff]

Hi, it's me. Long time no see. Finaly decided to make this comic of the idea i got. Even though there is a few... mistakes??? Like in the fic painter can't cry? Plus i'm not good at drawing background and i realise i have no idea what the house look like and it turn so ugly. (Fun fact : it's actually the first time i seriously draw background so i'm happy)

Drawing Sebastian and Sadao wasn't easy, but it just because i draw women most of the time. I didn't wanted to make too feminine, Sadao was worst because he have a baby face and i absolutly didn't want for him to look like a "OwOimafemboy" sort of type.

But they were still fun to draw.

Last thing, painter is so baby in this comic. I mean... he look so small in Sadao's arms. I didn't do this on purpose but it's cute, i guess? (By the way drawing painter was horrible, too much details, i hope he looks okay or at least cute)

Anyway i had a lot of fun, hope you're having a good day!

(All characters belong to @inkspottie )

[paradoxlemonade]

@mcyt-summer-of-yuri gift for @sooonah !!! It's Gempearl in a Secret Life mage AU <3

[star-stages]

More art for @kittydoremi 's Sonic and the cursed bracelet fic because I have no self-control lol

"The giant hedgehog had stopped in front of a waterfall, staring at his reflection. The moonlight lit up the area, allowing him to get a good look of himself. Not only was he enormous, there were other changes to his appearance he hadn’t noticed before; His quills were slightly darker with light purple highlights. Not only that, his eyes were bright purple."

link to this chapter

[vampirehunterdzine]

Our headmod (Vagabond's Respite) is holding a Vampire Hunter D themed Secret Santa to commemorate the new season. This exchange is open to all! Please take a look at the Guidelines for the Rules and Timeline. Here's the sign up form

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

the needle gathering dust

hi! this is my gift for @swiftiefirefighters as part of the @buddietommydaily gift exchange :)! I had fun with this silly idea - and it kind of got away from me. Sorry to drag it on, but there will be a second (hopefully not a third) chapter in a few days lol. Tommy wanted to keep running into his loves instead of moving the plot forward, so here we are lol.

I hope you enjoy!

(title from Blues for Almost Forgotten Music by Roxane Beth Johnson)

~

“Agent 21! It’s been too long.”

Tommy sighed. Not again.

Sure enough, when he turned around, there stood Agent 115 and Agent 105. Matching suits, matching “hidden” guns, and matching cocky grins. Tommy was waiting for the day Agent 105 came in with scar matching Agent 115’s. Agent 115, who had spoken, had a key in his hand – that must’ve been how they got into the room. Tommy had double checked that the door was locked, but it didn’t matter when your opponents had keys.

“15, 05,” he responded dryly. “It’s been two weeks.”

Agent 115 looked deeply offended.

“He can’t even say the first digit,” he said mournfully. “Our poor ‘1’s.”

Agent 105 nodded, then added: “And two weeks is a long time for us.”

Tommy sighed again. They were almost always on the same missions as him, somehow. Half the time it didn’t even seem like something the A.A.H. would be interested in, given that they mainly focused on information over technology. Yet here they were.

“Listen, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tommy said, not able to stop the exasperation from bleeding into his voice. “All I need is the crystal.”

Agent 115 grimaced and Agent 105 sucked in a breath.

“Unfortunately,” said the former. “That’s what we’re here for, too.” 

Agent 105 nodded.

“We could always team up to get it,” continued Agent 115, a hopeful smile on his face.

Tommy blinked.

“There’s one crystal.”

“He’s got a point,” Agent 105 said quietly. Tommy started edging towards the other door as they whispered a few things to each other. They were like an old married couple – half the time, Tommy wondered if they were one. But hey – if it distracted them, it was all the better for him. Just a few more feet. . .

A shot sounded, and a metallic bang. Tommy dropped to the ground automatically, but no other shots came. He looked back at the door, only to see the handle blown off to who knows where. He growled in frustration as he turned his gaze back to the agents.

“Sorry, 21,” Agent 105 said, and he almost sounded regretful. “We can’t let you do that.”

“Seriously?” groused Tommy. These guys couldn’t mind their own business. He rolled to the side and hopped to his feet before tossing a charge at the door, then drew his own gun while waiting for the door. It never paid to be overly trusting with the A.A.H., especially with Agents 115 and 105. They always managed to cause trouble. Within seconds, both of their guns were out as well.

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” Agent 115 joked with a smile. That’s what they thought.

The door blew. A few small pieces of metal went flying, but luckily his aim was true – most of the door was still intact. The other agents stumbled away from the direction of the smoking door, but Tommy jumped towards it, kicking what was left of it in.

“T-” whichever one of them was speaking cut off with a small cough. “Agent 21, wait!”

He considered tossing a teasing reply back at them, but he didn’t have time. He had to get to that crystal before they got their wits about them (and apparently, their lungs – it really wasn’t that much smoke).

Still, a small smirk graced his face.

-

“Agents, what can I do for you?” Tommy asked dryly.

The two men startled just slightly, before whipping around to face him. Smiles lit up their faces – yugh, they were unbearable.

“Agent!” Agent 105 greeted. “We’re just browsing. How are you this fine afternoon?”

“It’s 9 P.M.”

“And?” asked Agent 115.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I’d be better if you weren’t trying to steal my score, again.”

“There’s no way we didn’t get our assignment first,” Agent 115 argued. “Tw-” Agent 105 elbowed him in the side.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that,” the former finished. Tommy fought back a smile. If he had to have nemeses, at least they were kind of idiots (and just a little funny, but you’d never catch him admitting that). It certainly helped make up for the annoyance they caused while trying to do his job.

“Step away from the computers,” he said, serious now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That wasn’t entirely true; he did want to punch them sometimes, and– well, oddly enough, that was about it. Nothing else. The thought made something deep inside his brain squirm, which was decidedly not comfortable, so he brushed it aside. He couldn’t be distracted while in the field, even just for a split second. He refocused on the agents in front of him. 

And they—they had a look, something between wan and heartbroken. Tommy frowned just slightly.

“We know,” Agent 105 said softly.

What?

But then smiles slid back onto their faces, eyes shuttered, and the moment was gone. That was also decidedly uncomfortable.

“How kind of you,” Agent 115 said cheerily.

“But, we’re just about done here,” Agent 105 completed. “So–”

Tommy drew his gun and shot one of the laptops they had set up. Both A.A.H. Agents jumped and ducked away from the shrapnel.

“Seriously?” complained Agent 115.

“Couldn’t let you get away with everything,” Tommy replied, gun trained on them.

Before anyone else could speak, the other agents’ watches started blinking. They both glanced down (now, now, he could take them out right now), then looked back up at him. There was something in Agent 115’s eyes as Agent 105 started collecting their other equipment.

“Well, looks like our visit’s going to have to be cut short,” 115 said with a fake frown. The smile quickly took over his face again as Agent 105 tapped him on the shoulder, equipment packed up.

Agent 115 nodded to 105, then to Tommy. He grabbed a rope that was laying on the floor, leading to– the window. Of course. The other end was attached to the sill. With a mock salute, he jumped out the window.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Agent 105 said, before following his partner.

Tommy lowered his gun and sighed. That uncomfortable moment was still sitting in his shoulders, tension he hadn’t yet shaken. But he could still get at least some information from this mission. He holstered his gun and started plugging his own devices into the computers, trying to roll out his shoulders as he did.

But somewhere deep in his chest, past the harsh feeling, some part of him couldn’t help but feel comforted.

-

“I just keep running into them on missions,” complained Tommy. “It’s like we have a rivalry that I don’t know about!”

Lucy laughed. “Do you know how many people would kill for a nemesis, let alone two?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and picked at his salad. It was dumb.

Lucy closed the cupboard and turned back to him as she set her plate on the counter. She started dishing herself lasagna as she spoke.

“And look at you. Here you are, complaining about them. They’ve been your rivals for a while now.”

And they. They had—

“Okay, sure,” Tommy acknowledged. “But it still feels like they’re way more invested in it than I am.”

Lucy shrugged, rolling the foil back over the pan.

“I think A.A.H. agents are just extra like that,” she said as she put the lasagna back in the oven.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

“What does A.A.H. even stand for?” asked Melton, entering the kitchen. There was a coffee cup in his hand and a tired look on his face – which made sense, given that Tommy was pretty sure he’d just gotten off of a 24 hour stakeout.

“It doesn’t stand for anything,” Lucy answered, sounding exasperated. Tommy hid a smile. Melton had definitely asked this before (though again: 24 hour stakeout). “It’s a designation number.”

“Ohh, right,” Melton said. A look of understanding lit up his face, and then something more sheepish. “I’ve asked that like, four times, haven’t I?”

“Six,” Tommy cut in as he stabbed a few pieces of lettuce. He ducked the coffee packet that went soaring at him with a laugh.

“In my defense, I’m always the one on stakeouts,” Melton said with mock-offense. Probably.

“Not our fault the boss hates you,” Lucy joked, taking a seat at the edge of the island.

“Hey, I like stakeouts! At least I’m not diffusing bombs all the time. It’s like they want you to blow up,” shot back the other man.

Tommy just watched as the other two bickered, smiling into his salad.

-

Tommy swung his gun to 115.

“There’s no need for us to be stupid about this,” the other man said.

“I’m not the one who said ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be a good idea to call the police?!’” Tommy practically shouted.

“Okay, well– ah, yes. But,” 115 stuttered.

Tommy switched his aim back to 105, and he could see both of their guns shift slightly.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” 115 finished exasperatedly.

“But you did do it.”

“You’re on his side?”

Tommy let them argue for a moment as he tried to figure out a way out of this. They couldn’t have more than 5 minutes before the police got here, and they couldn’t stand here in a stalemate forever. It would take at least 2 of those to even get out of the building, let alone find the ID he was looking for. He growled in frustration.

“You triggered the alarm,” he interrupted, gun swinging back to 115. They stopped arguing to retrain their weapons on him and he rolled his eyes.

“Only because he pushed me,” 115 said. Tommy went back to 105, and they followed him.

“To keep you from hitting your head on the fire extinguisher!” 105 shot back. Tommy switched again. They followed.

“How are any of us supposed to do this now?” Tommy said, and turned his gun back on 105. 115 and 105 turned their guns towards each other.

Tommy blinked.

“Wait,” 115 said.

Tommy started laughing, the stress combining with the absurdity of the situation.

“Okay, okay, stop!” 105 shouted. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. Can we all just put our guns away?”

Still laughing, Tommy clipped his gun back into its holster. He paused, surprised. Not only was he laughing, he actually put his gun down. Just because 105 said so. Hm. He didn’t like that.

Tommy cleared his throat and composed his face again. The other two sighed as they holstered their own weapons.

“Now,” 105 continued. “We have–” he moved to check his watch, but 115 interrupted with “Four”.

“--Four minutes before the police get here,” finished 105.

“Not enough time to get the folder,” 115 added.

“So you’re proposing we. . .” Tommy trailed off. Wait. What? He was sent to get the ID of an employee in this building.

“The folder?” he asked.

Both agents turned to him, confused looks on their faces. “Yeah?” 115 said. It took another second for them to both freeze.

“You’re here for something else?” 105 asked. His face was pale, his eyes were wide.

Tommy shouldn’t have said anything. He could’ve let them believe he was here for whatever the folder was and they wouldn’t suspect anything with the ID. But, it did tell him that they had no idea he was looking for something else. Which meant that the A.A.H. was farther off than they had thought.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here,” he said brusquely. “No one’s getting what they want.”

115 and 105 were still looking at him as he made sure all of his equipment was secure. There was something in their eyes again.

“What?” Tommy asked gruffly.

There was a moment of silence where they were just staring at each other. The alarm had stopped ringing shortly after 115 triggered it, and without their voices there was nothing but the hum of the air conditioning. No one moved.

Distantly, sirens faded in. Tommy shook himself out of the staring contest, and Agent 105 spoke.

“Nothing,” he said, just softer than a normal speaking volume.

Tommy didn’t have time to figure that out. He turned, offering an annoyed half wave to the other agents, and started running back the way he came. Luckily, they’d gotten in different ways. Their paths collided in that room, but otherwise, they didn’t cross. He could just get out of here. And, luckily, two more lefts and he was.

He skidded around the second to last corner, ready to– camera. It took a few more steps to come to a stop, but by the time he had, his gun was out. Crack. Luckily, his silencer was on, so it was more of a slap than a full volume gun shot. The camera flopped, attached to its body by a straining handful of wires. Tommy didn’t even bother putting his gun away before he started running again. It took him a few tries while running and not looking at it, but he managed to get it clipped back into place as he made the last turn.

Right before his hand was on the fire escape door, another alarm started blaring. It sounded different from the one 115 had triggered (which still had blinking red lights going off along the top of the wall every few yards). Uh oh. Tommy swore he could hear footsteps and yelling, but he was so far from the main entrance it probably wasn’t possible. Ignoring it, he pushed open the fire escape (he’d cut the alarm wires on his way in) and burst out into the sunlight.

-

Lucy kicked the burnt. . . something lightly. Tommy thought it looked like a computer, but he honestly wasn’t sure.

The place was crawling with B.A.G. agents. Floodlights were being set up, items were being bagged, burnt and crushed items were being studied. It was a flurry of activity, but Tommy could still see what happened here.

“This was definitely them,” he said. Lucy looked up from the wreckage in front of her.

“Who?” she asked with a small frown.

“Agent 115 and 105,” Tommy answered, crossing his arms. He nodded towards the pile of burnt items. “I’ve seen them do that.”

Lucy blinked at him. What?

Eventually, she said: “Okay, Mr. Nemesis. I don’t even know how they would’ve done this, though.”

“They have an explosive that reacts to the coolant inside computers,” Tommy supplied immediately.

How did he know that?

Lucy stared at him again.

“How do you know that?” she asked incredulously.

The question of the hour. Had they mentioned it? Had he seen plans for it, even on a mission they weren’t on? He– Tommy had no idea.

He swallowed. “I heard them mention it.”

Lucy snorted as she looked back down at the (presumably electronic) remains.

“Your nemeses have big mouths,” she said.

Yeah, sure. He was pretty sure he was the one with the big mouth.

“They were gloating,” Tommy answered numbly.

“I guess. Still kind of dumb,” the other agent said. She shrugged. “But, it doesn’t matter. It’ll all get tested and we’ll figure it out. We’re B.A.G.”

Maybe it would be better if they didn’t. Then it wouldn’t prove Tommy right.

Tommy nodded, but couldn’t get his vocal cords to work.

Lucy walked away towards a group of lab techs, and Tommy just stared after her.

-

“Can you pass me the blue?”

Tommy smiled. He always used blue, in any craft.

“Here,” he said, just a hint of teasing in his voice. There was a small laugh from behind him, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“You two need to stop ganging up on me,” he said with mock annoyance.

Tommy has to physically restrain himself from making an innuendo as he turns back to his own work. Evan does take the blue, though.

“Never will,” Eddie responds. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Yep,” Tommy confirms, glancing back at Evan. The love in the other man’s eyes nearly takes his breath away. Even through the joking, and even after this long, it still leaves him speechless.

“Good,” Evan says after a moment, a smile on his face.

Tommy woke up to darkness and a beating heart. 

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, like the time he fell out of a second story window. There was a memory, of stark clarity and yet impossible to describe. A dream. Of a—a house, or a kitchen, or maybe just a weird realm of light. And something in his hands. A mix between a paintbrush and a pen, and maybe sandpaper. There was a person to his left, that he couldn’t see, and a person to his right, that was—Lucy, maybe. Or Derrick from accounting, or an A.A.H. agent he met once, or a mix of all three. And his chest was on fire but his hands were freezing. It didn’t make any sense.

But now his chest was tight. His shoulders too. There was sweat on his back, and his legs, and it was too warm and that must’ve been a nightmare, because he now felt terrified. There was a pinprick ache in his temples, like he was grinding his teeth.

And nothing made sense.

[thecollectionsof]

fic exchange 2024

@aqpippin sorry it took me like. the whole day to actually post this for you i was convinced there was a typo in it and read it over a million billion times xoxoxo

(also i love you x1000 i hope you're having a wonderful holiday season)

anyways SURPRISE here is jackie cox pining :)

Summary:

Jackie Cox was going to die, and let it be known that it was her coworkers' fault. Well, actually, she doesn't want her coworkers to know that she likes them, and that her pining after them would be the thing that'd kill her. And... well, being killed by something as small as some crushes sounds a bit dramatic, too. She'll amend that first statement, then: Crystal Methyd and Gigi Goode will definitely cause her to melt into a puddle of yearning and embarrassment on the ground of their office and she does NOT want them to be there for it. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for her, they seem to be rather interested in being around her. For some reason. (a.k.a. Jackie's obliviousness and overthinking gets in the way of Crystal and Gigi's attempts to flirt with her, but they will persevere.)

(thank of you for helping set this up @missjanjie and thank you @sexynetra for helping me not crumble away into dust writing this !!!!! you both are wonderful and i'm so happy we share a community <3)

[softer-sunny]

New Monsters

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Word Count: 3,505

Summary: Rex had his turn. Now the batch get to become the new tickle monsters.

Ao3 link: New Monsters

Part 2 of A Visit

This is a tickle fic

Echo was going to shrivel up from embarrassment before everyone was through messing with him. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he’d decided to try to hide in Hunter’s arms but he’d made his bed and now he had to lay in it. He was being loosely gripped by his sergeant who had decided to test the spot on his neck but he couldn’t even bother to try and get away yet. Not with Crosshair still trying to worm his way at his stomach - damn squads and their damn mischievousness. It was very probable they’d tickle him to death if he let them.

He peeked out past his hand - which was conveniently hiding his face - and caught the ridiculously smug look on Rex’s face. Traitor. This was all because Rex decided to pull out that ridiculous game they used to play. A visit. Who did Rex think he was, bringing that back up out of the blue like that? Still, despite how embarrassing it was he couldn’t help but feel lighter. The bastard knew it, too, from the look on his face. And now he was falling victim to whatever the batch was going to do to follow it up.

It wasn’t fair. Not with his skin already tingly and his limbs all shaky. The metaphorical dam had already burst when Rex attacked him and now he wasn’t going to be able to keep it in enough to save at least a little bit of his pride. Damn brothers. They always found a way to get under your skin.

Speaking of skin. If Hunter didn’t stop tracing his neck soon he was going to combust. The gentleness of it mixed with how scrunched he had to be to fend off incoming attacks from Crosshair was just making him wiggly. He hoped hiding his face partially in his own arms and Hunter’s would keep the embarrassing tittering from being too loud but by the way those two were continuing to prod at him he knew he wasn’t holding out well enough at all.

“Oh, come on, Echo.” Hunter dipped his head to try to get a look at Echo’s face but he burrowed deeper into what should have been his protective little cocoon. “Just lift your head up. Lift your head up and look at us and maybe we'll let you go.” No chance. There was no way in hell that dirty rotten trick would work on him. The second he lifted his head Crosshair would aim for a spot with accuracy so deadly he’d live up to his sniper name and then he’d be done for. Nope. Not a chance.

“We promise we’ll be niiice.” Crosshair drew the word out in something more sing-songey than his usual tone and that alone made the anticipation even worse. His hand did stop trying to wiggle into his protective ball, moving to sweep down Echo’s arm more in comfort than mischief. It was the most he’d been touched since before the Citadel and he knew he should just keep hiding until they got bored. They’d move on if they thought he needed them to, it wasn’t hard to figure that out, but a traitorous part of him didn’t necessarily want them to. The attention was more than he expected, sure, but it was a lot like how it was with the other dominos growing up. He fell victim to their moods more often than not and it seemed history was going to repeat itself.

Against at least half of his better judgment he lifted his head from the safe confines of the tangle of arms to meet their very close faces, oh Force. Echo tried not to swallow too loud, hoping not to give away any of the nervous energy building in his gut, but by the way their eyes narrowed he knew his goose was cooked. The wobbly smile planted on his face wasn’t helping his case either, nor was the way he knew his face was burning. His body never did help him in times like these. The more tickled he looked the more they’d want to do it.

Echo cleared his throat, clocking where each of their hands were. Hunter still had one arm wrapped around him, holding him by his shoulder, the other resting at the base of his neck, while Crosshair had paused his sweeping motion to rest one hand on his arm. The other was planted on the floor just next to his foot. They let him survey. He knew they were giving him a moment to make some decisions. If he pulled away they’d let him go. They’d stop, give him some space, try again another time. He could do that…

“I really doubt you two have the ability to be nice.” Echo even punctuated it with air quotes, getting their smiles to grow even more predatory. Okay, maybe he had a death wish. Maybe he was playing with fire a little too much and it would bite him in the ass.

“You doubt us? That’s a shame. Isn’t it, Crosshair?” Hunter sighed, his hand at the back of Echo’s neck squeezing just slightly. It made Echo stiffen, having to bite his lip just to keep the nervous smile at bay a little longer. He’d not quite seen this side of Hunter yet. Sure, he knew it probably existed but he’d never actually witnessed it. He had a feeling he was about to get the full picture.

Crosshair put a hand to his chest like he was offended. “Such a shame. Maybe we should just live up to expectations.” The hand on his arm started to slide around to the underside, making him jump as fingers teased sensitive skin on his bicep. How the hell was he even ticklish there? The movement just made Crosshair more determined, slipping up towards his underarm with purpose - evil purpose. Oh, he was fucked. The second he uncurled his arm from around his legs Hunter would strike and he’d flail and they’d be able to get him out of this protective little ball he’d wound himself into. But Crosshair was so damn close to a spot that would get him to break and the closer he got, fingers on their purposeful path upwards, the more he knew he’d have to make a decision.

Turns out Crosshair knew that too. He sped through the last inch and very gently scratched at Echo’s underarm, throwing every expectation Echo had into motion. He flinched, arm coming down to cover himself, at the same moment that Hunter’s fingers got to work on the back of his neck. All it took was one more flail and Crosshair grabbed his knee, pulling him from the confines of Hunter’s arms and dislodging any real chance he had at protecting himself.

They let him scoot away but followed him regardless, hands headed for every sensitive area Rex had so helpfully pointed out to them. Now Rex was lounged back on one of their bunks, hands behind his head looking like he was taking a well deserved break - the bastard. Hunter grabbed his ankle and pulled to get him flat on the ground. In one smooth motion Echo rolled onto his stomach to try and crawl away but that move might very well have been his downfall. Hunter dragged him back and he felt Crosshair sit across his thighs to pin him down.

The stupid, embarrassing giggles that were spilling out had him hiding his face in his arms, twitching when he felt Hunter sit next to him and start petting his back in comfort. He knew better than to trust that but both of them were waiting for him to look at them, that constant sweeping motion continuing while he calmed a bit. When he did peer over his shoulder Hunter was smiling down at him, head tilted to gauge his reaction. Whatever Hunter saw on his face made his smile grow and then fingers were teasing at the space where his neck met his shoulder and sent shivery tingles down his spine. Giggles started up again and made embarrassment flare under his skin.

“Don’t worry, Echo, I’m ticklish there too.” Hunter said gently. It did make him feel a bit better about being so sensitive. Knowing he could get Hunter back was a bonus he wasn’t going to take for granted either. The fabric at his lower back was fussed over and the shifting of it alone made him squirm. However, nothing was quite as bad as when fingers started their slow crawl over his lower back. He couldn’t scrunch, couldn’t shift away, so instead he just barked a noise that was not a whine - thank you Tech - and hid further in his folded arms to cover up the bitten back laugh he couldn’t hold in.

“Aw,” Wrecker’s voice was a lot closer than he expected and that’s when he realized it was Wrecker who was tickling over his back in that maddening way. With one look over his shoulder he saw Crosshair sitting cross legged over his legs, chin propped in his palm as he waggled his fingers in a playful wave. “You really got all the ticklishness of your batch, huh?” Wrecker asked, using his other set of fingers to draw little figure eights around his spine which were like little electric lines wiggling into his nerve endings.

“No!” Echo yelled back in response. He twitched in place to do something. “Fihihihives was just as bahahad!

Rex snorted, the ass. “Yeah, he was.”

“You got me into this in the first place!” Echo complained. Rex turned, a big toothy grin showing just how sorry he was. He was going to throw back some insult, something to get under Rex’s skin while he could, but there was a poke at his opposite side, right at the base of his ribcage that made him yelp.

“Interesting.” Tech said, a small smile on his face. Echo groaned, elbows shooting down to try to protect some part of his torso. At least they had him on his front. There was only so much damage they could do with the spots available. “I’m going to investigate which of your ribs gets the best reaction.” Nevermind! Echo started to squirm but it didn’t do anything to stop Tech from prodding at the lower set of ribs, dragging his finger along between the bones before pinching one. That had no right to be so bad!

His gentle giggles turned into a bright bark of laughter and still nothing he did to block it was working. He couldn’t even rock onto one side because the other one was open for Tech to take advantage of. They gave him a short reprieve, all of them disappearing at once like they’d planned it. No time to waste. Shakier than he expected he pushed himself up onto his knees and turned to face them. The entire batch was watching him with gleeful expressions that made him shrink back. Damn, they were worse than his own batch had been. Pinning him to the ground and forcing laughter out of him was one of their favorite activities and now, thank you Rex, it might become one of his new squad’s favorites too.

Wrecker made a move forward and Echo flinched away, forcing the bigger man to pause. “You alright if we keep going? Or is it too much?” He asked. For a moment Echo wasn’t sure he heard right. The batch didn’t seem particularly merciful but, then again, they hadn’t been going too hard on him. The longer he waited the more he expected a fake out - something to catch him off guard - but it never came. Patience wasn’t a virtue of theirs but they gave him time. Enough time that he got to make a decision even he was a little surprised by.

“N-no.” Echo shook his head but, as much as he tried not to let it show, his voice still had that nervous lilt to it. “It’s not t-too much. Just…” Echo thought about it then huffed. “Just try not to do it too hard, if you could.” He wasn’t sure how he would handle any aggressive digging. The light stuff was already making him react, more than he expected, there was no telling what would happen if they really dug in. Or if he could even handle it.

Wrecker’s smile turned bright as the other three dove for Echo, making him jump as they engaged him in a mock wrestling match. Each of them grabbed onto him but let him pull away if he tugged, attempting a fake pin before ultimately allowing him to escape. At first he wasn’t too sure what the game was but he wrapped his head around it pretty quick. He was going to have to give in and let them pin him. Great. Echo put up a front for a bit longer, pushing Tech over onto the floor but not getting much further before Hunter grabbed him and he decided it was time to give up.

“We’ll keep being gentle. Wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Wrecker assured as Echo was wrestled onto his back, this time very secure in knowing they’d stop if he got overwhelmed. It felt sillier somehow, knowing he’d given them permission to keep going, and that fluttery feeling swept through his stomach as they gathered around like little hungry nexu. Okay, maybe he would regret giving the OK but for now he was giving into their wide smiles and excited energy.

Crosshair hovered over him, by far the most mischievous looking of the bunch, and held up a single finger. “This is what I’m after.” He said, then dove for the hem of Echo’s shirt. Curious fingers crawled underneath the fabric, pushing it up to do the same damn thing Rex had. That alone sent a little jolt through his muscles but then Crosshair wiggled into his stomach in a way that somehow made his insides both flutter and jump at the same time. Echo clamped down over the hand attacking him but the fight was already lost. Someone on the base was going to hear him and come running thinking someone was being murdered only to find him laughing himself silly under the hands of his incredibly mean squadmates. Crosshair now had the perfect hold on his soft spot, wiggling his fingers into him while Echo held him in place. It was all he could do to throw his head back and laugh, feet stomping on the ground to try and make the energy disperse even a little bit. It didn’t last too long, fingers pausing the second Tech started to explore the spaces between his ribs again, but Crosshair’s hand stayed put. Always looming. Always a threat

His ribs weren’t too sensitive, not nearly as bad as other spots, but the way Tech prodded them like he was investigating his every move made him do something embarrassing: snort. The way Tech’s face lit up was the only warning he got before he used each of his index fingers to poke into that same spot and draw a bright, tittering, laughter out of him before lining up with pinpoint accuracy to scratch at what had to be a pressure point connected directly to a nerve. The scratching made him lurch to the side - held to the ground only by Crosshair’s hand still resting against his stomach - before he dissolved into a cocktail of snorts that just made his face burn worse.

“Bad spot?” Wrecker grinned down at him, sitting back on his heels to watch the scene with glee. Echo couldn't speak but he did nod, hiccuping. They seemed to take turns for the next bit of it. Tech got done with his ribs just for Wrecker to poke around his hip to see if the bone had any sensitivity - it did. Hunter got to go next, still focusing on that damn spot on his neck that got him giggling. If someone would’ve told him his squad would ever hear him giggle he would've thrown something at them. After Hunter was done they all backed off to let him suck in some air and Echo laid there, still clutching Crosshair’s hand to his stomach so it couldn’t move. If that hand moved he was done for.

“Gotta give me my hand back.” Crosshair tugged on his hand, smile turning into a full grin when Echo startled and held tighter.

“Not a chance.” Echo gulped down some air and twitched as the fingers on his stomach shifted - only slightly, but enough to make him let out a jumpy huff.

“Come on. Lift up your arms. Let me free.” Crosshair giving directions felt like he was teasing which did not inspire confidence. Echo shook his head. Crosshair leveled him with a raised eyebrow. “Echo, don’t be stubborn. What’s the worst I could do?” Echo mimicked his look back to him, which only made the other man laugh. “Okay, noted. Still, lift up so I can have my hand back.”

“You’re just going to ti… try to harass me again.” Echo complained. He hoped he’d be shown a little mercy but by the way Crosshair’s face lit up he wasn’t getting it.

“Wait, what was that? What’ll happen?” Crosshair asked. The rest of his squad was far too amused by his predicament to help him out, watching and waiting for his answers.

“You know.” Asshole brothers.

Crosshair shrugged. “You have to say it.” For fucks sake. Echo groaned and let his head fall back against the floor. None of the rest of them were going to save him. Well… he was having fun. That didn’t mean he liked having to say the word in front of them. It made his cheeks burn just thinking about it. Regardless, he was never going to get out of this unless he gave in.

“You’re just going to tickle me, okay? Are you happy?” Echo said through gritted teeth. The blush on his cheeks just flushed deeper. Crosshair’s face brightened before something utterly evil passed through his eyes.

“Yes.” Crosshair said right before his arms were grabbed and pulled away so Crosshair could scribble mercilessly into his stomach. The way Echo’s body lurched was almost comical but Echo didn’t notice. Not while laughing so hard he was afraid he might break somebody’s eardrums.

“Must be his tickle tickle spot.” Hunter commented. He had one of his knees propped up, resting his chin against it while he watched, amused. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.

“If my calculations are right it’s actually right about here.” Tech held up one finger then prodded a very specific spot on his belly, just nearing the lower side, and scratched. It made something short circuit in his brain just feeling it but nothing compared to the next few seconds. All of them, all at once, grabbed to attack a different spot. They poked, and prodded, and scribbled, until all Echo could do was lay there and laugh.

They learned too much from Rex.

Echo couldn’t even babble properly anymore, words intertwining with the giggles he wasn’t even trying to keep inside anymore. He wasn’t sure why he expected that Crosshair of all people would protect him but it was worth a shot as he shoved directly into him, wrapping his arms around him tightly and burying his face in Crosshair’s chest. It nearly knocked the man back onto the floor. The man who was now laughing at him, which was rude and uncalled for. Crosshair’s arms wound around him and for a moment he thought there might be more coming, another chance to grab his sides and send him crashing to the floor, but he was just squeezed. Crosshair even pivoted them away from the rest of the batch so Echo’s back didn’t feel quite so exposed, tucking his head close to Echo’s while his breath calmed down. He could feel the amusement in Crosshair’s quiet laughter still rumbling in his chest. It would’ve felt like laughter at Echo’s expense if it wasn’t for how Crosshair kept rubbing his back to aid him in breathing normally again.

“Evil.” Echo’s voice was shaky. “All of you are so damn evil.” He knew they were laughing at him but his body was too tingly for him to care. All of that fuzzy energy was still dancing on his skin and it took everything in him not to just keep laughing.

“Told you, Echo.” Rex groaned as he rolled to sit on the edge of the bunk. “I just knew there was a pack of tickle monsters around here.” With a flourish Echo flipped him off but his arm flopped back down only seconds after. Too tired to think. Too warm to string together thoughts. Wrecker even moved to rub comforting circles on his back as he rested his head against Crosshair’s shoulder.

He could handle a few more monsters, Echo decided, as long as he eventually got to get them back.

[khepiari]

Year End LawLu Fic: The Little Soulmate Shop

Summary: AU: Fantasy| DILF Ace 44-Year-old Dr Law x DILF Gray 37-Year-old Photographer Luffy| Hand kiss and flying kiss| SFW.

Word count: 8252

Chapters: 1

Status: complete.

There is a little shop that travels. It is built of chocolate brown timber and red stones. People who have visited the shop often report that it had popped up one night on their usual path. Like a reishi mushroom, it pops up between the soulless crevices of tall concrete jungles; some had spotted by the beach, and others have accidentally walked in looking for a lightbulb. All the visitors are correct! The location of this little shop is never the same, from one city to another, from one continent to another, the shop travels selling one item to one person every night.

It opens daily at midnight without fail. Come what may, rain, storm, heatwave or forest fire, the shop opens every day.

How can one spot this shop?

Sometimes, from a distance, it looks like a bright, small square matchbox of red and brown, on which someone had drawn an old, rickety door of white from an era gone by.

Once visitors walk inside this shop's four walls, they never walk out empty-handed. The moment they step inside, their hearts are filled with a strange desire. Each desire is unique to each visitor; it could be something that they have suppressed for days, and sometimes its passing thought sets deep root, no matter the nature of this desire, it seizes their heart. Then, with that desired filled heart, the visitor’s eyes land on the objects that are on display.

The four white-bricked walls are nailed with wooden shelves of the same red timber, weathered and polished by daily wiping and dusting. Each shelf neatly houses trinkets.

What kind of trinkets?

The trinkets are of varied kinds. Any item with memories or promise of memories that can soothe the visitor’s heart is sold in the shop. It can be as simple as a hair clip studded with fake gems.

But who buys these second-hand and broken trinkets? And why?

Fifty years back, a scholarly woman walked out with an almost empty perfume bottle that reminded her of a summer picnic day she had with her mother as a little girl. A hundred years back, an old man found a handkerchief on which there were initials of a lover lost to war. Two hundred years back, a young woman walked out with the ragged collar of a cat she dearly loved. Five hundred years back, a man found a ring perfect for a marriage proposal for the woman he had yet to meet. A thousand years back, a little girl walked out with knitting needles, with which she knitted mufflers for her wife years later.

Who are its customers?

A handful of people. People who can never become shop regulars are its visitors.

What is the purpose of this shop?

It sells the item that will help one connect with their soulmate.

Read here:

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I was wondering if you knew of any fics where Aziraphale is pampering/spoiling Crowley, showing his love in visible, demonstrable ways, etc. Thanks!

Hi! You might be interested in our #gifts, #wooing, #sick fic, and #sugar daddy au tags to find fics like this. Here are some others where Aziraphale pampers, spoils, and shows his love for Crowley...

Socks by NotEvenCloseToStraight (G)

Based off a post on Tumblr: Azira makes Crowley socks after realizing he'd burned his feet in the church back in 1941 ******************* “You thought I sssauntered into a church filled with Nazis to dance a little jig and distract you all while I pulled missiles from the sssky, is that it?” “It–it was a lovely dance, if that matters, I thought your legs looked wonderful flapping about–” Azira made an unintentionally hilarious gesture miming how Crowley had moved back then. “–very graceful, all things considered.” “All things conssssidered?!” Crowley leapt from the couch in a display much more graceful than Azira’s awkward flailing. “My feet were burning, angel! Or have you forgotten that demons aren’t allowed on consssecrated ground!”

Demon Cough by mango_enjoyer (T)

Crowley hates the discomfort of demonic illnesses and loathes their disgusting cures. Unfortunately, his reckless nature makes him an easy target for strange maladies. Even worse, Aziraphale can’t help fussing over him whenever he grows ill, which makes him feel all the more vulnerable. Crowley can’t always be the one coming to the rescue, though. Would some pampering during a time of weakness really be so bad?

It Starts with a Garden by adelaide_rain (T)

Aziraphale goes to Crowley’s apartment for the first time, and is horrified by how bleak it is. He takes it upon himself to make it a more like a home.

Rosewater by Quilly (G)

Aziraphale has just the thing to apologize after a domestic tiff.

That Time of the Semicentury by ZehWulf (T)

Crowley squints at him blearily. "And why, exactly, are you over?" Aziraphale lifts his arms to draw attention to the overstuffed reusable bags he's brought with him. "You said it's that time again and, well, I thought perhaps you might allow me to pamper you a bit." OR What if we low-key compared the experience of snake-demon shedding to having a period and let the hurt/comfort unfold accordingly?

Forsaken by VerdantVulpus (E)

Aziraphale has quietly loved his frenemy for a very long time. It had been a simple, innocent love once, but grew overtime in its abundance and complexity. It was ever present, at times bothersome or painful, other times driving him to acts of courage he didn't think possible. Always quiet, though. There was no point sharing his feelings with a demon. Demons were incapable of love. So imagine Aziraphale’s dismay to learn that not only had Crowley loved him terribly for just as long, but that Aziraphale had missed all the signs and the demon had given up hope. Now Aziraphale must organize his own thoughts and feelings and learn how to woo a demon before Crowley moves on for good.

- Mod D

[interstellarvacuumcleaner]

here it is! HERE IT IS

[palestporn]

Gamzee: What those horns do tho

"So, uh, horns," you say, like a chill motherfucker who hasn't been throwing looks at this growly little motherfucker's head since you met him this morning.

"I've heard of them," he says, sass-mouthed little emperor with his tiny horns tossed like a challenge. Starts off toward the next block, and goes and takes the crown off his horns and peels his shirt off like it ain't no thing. You knew he was a solid little armful, but damn.

"Damn," you say, out loud, and he turns back to look at you like he's about to ask what's up and then sees you getting a full motherfucking ogle on and goes reddish at the ears and horns again.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, and waves off your looking at him. "So, horns?"

Oh shit, right. "Horns," you say back, and hurry on up to come after him. Are you supposed to take your shit off too? Way they trained it, if the emperor wants one of them touched he touches and if he wants their skin out he says so.

...Karkat turns away from you to fuck around with folding his shirt up, and shows you the whole length of his back, bared at you. You get kinda motherfucking stupid about it. Damn.

When you step up on him from behind him and put a hand real careful on the side of his neck, he goes tense and then eases slow--when you tilt back his head a little bit, he lets you.

"Out at the yellow, shit's about texture, I got told," you say, and just rest the blunt tip of a claw to the blunt tip of a horn. there's a little edge of ridge up and around; you can click the flat of a claw up along where it fades away, real light and slow. With his shirt off and his weight resting back on you, you can feel him shiver. "Gotta play nice if there's not a lot to get your grip on of, but you can rattle the fuck out of 'em if they're longer."

"Like yours," he says, intending at some shit. You had it shown at you how it feels to lock horns, not slamming against like a challenge but shifting around and clicking and catching together. Goes all down your posture column, like sparks. He's not got the horns, but you felt how strong his fronds are and he's sure the fuck got claws.

...Focus, motherfucker.

"Like mine, yeah," you say, and make distraction at yourself about how that might feel by sliding your grip on down and getting the heel of your frond right into the base of his horns.

You knew he'd like it, on account his ancestor's shit's been mapped and marked a hundred sweeps. But it still makes you feel like the emperor your own damn self, when he goes "Hhha, fuck," all shaky and sways back hard against you.

"Down at the red," you say, and press just like how you got taught, deep and slow, smoothing down his shaved-down hair along how it lays, not against it. "Gotta give some motherfucking pressure."

He says "Oh, fuck," again--and again, like it's about all he can think to say. Breathes slower, leans harder, grasps back and grips at you behind him. "Oh, shit."

"Gotta push harder than you figure," you say, for all your voice sounds cracked and not yours. "Head conciliatrix smacks the shit outta your knuckles if you go too light--feels like you're gonna hurt a motherfucker but if you get in there real good--"

You press again and he makes like to curse and only lets out a whine like pleading instead, crooning under it in his rattlebox. Bites it off embarrassed a second later, but holy shit. Fuck.

"--That shit'll undo knots all the way to the motherfucking ground if you do it right," you finish off, and for a beautiful miracle of a second you don't think about being pissed, or scared, or ghosts or emperors or any other bullshit. Just how he goes loose in your grip, barely keeping his feet. "Motherfucker, you sound so fucking good."

"I'll pay you back with interest," he croaks out, brave show but wavery. "In the evening. We need to sleep. Hha, shit. C'mon, 'coon."

"Tonight" again, huh? Lotta shit happening tonight. Who fucking knows how your life's gonna shake up by this time tomorrow morning.

You think you can just about motherfucking live with that.

[-END-]

[START OVER]

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: afab!reader Character: Eustass Kid Kink: #15 Bratty Reader Prompt: #20. "Kiss me like you missed me." Gift Giver: @swampstew

Summary: Eustass up and vanished for a whole day, and gave orders to keep you on the ship no matter what. Then he had the audacity to expect a warm welcome.

Content Notes: oral sex (reader receiving), of course he calls them mouse, vaginal sex, inappropriate use of a devil fruit >.>, cream pie, swearing, short but mighty - fluffy end

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Kid’s golden amber eyes were on you like a predator watching its prey. His head was between your thighs, and after a few teasing kisses against them, he was now buried in your cunt, eating you like a man starved.

It felt good.

It felt really good.

But you’d be damned if you were going to let him know how good it felt, or how much you missed him.

He’d been gone before you woke up, and came back so late you were truly dead to the world by the time he came to bed. The day had dragged without him around and no one on the ship seemed to know what had kept him. Only that Hip and Hop had explicit orders to keep you aboard. No exceptions.

When you’d woken up, wrapped in his arms, you’d wriggled yourself free with the intent of just being somewhere else when he woke up. Your movements, careful as they were, had been enough to wake him. After you’d refused to kiss him, and he’d refused to tell you what he was up to, you ended up here.

Kid was certain he could fix your bad attitude and had spent the last ten minutes kissing your body and stripping away your pajamas. You didn’t deny him, didn’t tell him to stop, but you refused to kiss him back until he told you what he was up to.

Damn him and his skills.

The first soft moan escapes you, and you can feel the grin on his face with his lips pressed against your pussy like they were. There was no winning for you now, and even if you didn’t want to give in, your body was done trying to protest.

Your legs trembled as he gripped your hips and twirled his pierced tongue against your clit. Your hands grabbed the sheets so roughly your knuckles were white, and a much louder moan was ripped from your throat as he sucked harshly on the bundle of nerves.

You could feel the familiar hum that followed his devil fruit power, and nearly swore as a smooth, round, long, and cold metal object began to rub your slit, just below his lips. It was a gift you had given him some time ago, a perfectly smooth glob of metal that you had happened upon after a particularly fierce battle.

It reminded you of a wish stone, aside from the fact that it wasn’t a stone, but for Eustass Kid it was a perfect one. You told him about wish stones, gave it to him and just left it at that. It had been a few months before either of you had admitted your feelings.

You were delighted to know he kept it on him all that time, but you couldn’t believe what he was getting ready to do with it.

“Is… is that my g-gift?” You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to give an inch, but you were too surprised by the revelation.

Eustass only looks at you, spreading your legs wide as he teases your clit with his teeth. Your body freezes, if you buck you could hurt yourself, but the hard, almost sharp sensation of his teeth against your throbbing clit was sending lightning through you.

The brute could be terrifyingly precise when he wanted, and you’re nearly whimpering as the metal wish stone pushes into your cunt. You can’t move, you can’t twitch, all you can do is accept every single drop of pleasure. The stone’s nothing compared to Kid, but it’s vibrating as it slides back and forth inside you while he pays careful attention to your clit.

The pleasure’s building, your toes are flexing, and you’re worried you’re going to leave holes in the sheets as you try not to move.

“Kid – Kid, please. Please. I ca-can’t take it!” You cry as the pleasure seems ready to overwhelm you. You need to move, you can’t stay perfectly still when you cum, you know you can’t, and you want to squirm and scream and cry for him on top of it.

Everything stops, except for a few heavy, lazy licks from Eustass against your shivering clit.

“You miss me, mouse?” He questions evenly, bright eyes regarding you from beneath hooded lids.

You almost cry, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Gonna show me how much you missed me?” He prompts, the wish stone slipping out of you and into Kid’s hand as he changes positions, caging himself over you.

You nod as thick arms hook your legs and push them open, Eustass Kid leaning down closer to you as his heavy cock presses against your clit. You reach out as he leans down closer, letting your hands disappear into his fiery red hair, pulling yourself up to meet him and kissing him.

The press of your lips together included the push of his throbbing cock into your pussy. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly as you gasped from the pleasure, Kid leaning into you and diving into the kiss as he thrusts deep inside you. He took you, devouring your cries and moans with relentless and aggressive kisses as his hips slapped into your thighs.

He was so precise. So exacting. Even at his most bruising, Kid took you to the limit he intended. Limits you weren’t even originally certain you could reach. Not just behind closed doors either.

“K-Kid!” You cry, your voice muffled by the continued kisses. His lipstick is a mess on his face, it’s a mess on yours, you’re sure. How late did he get back, that he didn’t even clean it off?

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The question falls from him in a grunt as he continues to pound into you.

“F-fuck, fill me up, please!” You beg, feeling yourself melt at the glint in his eyes as the devious grin slips along his face.

“Missed you too, mouse.” He grins before leaning down and kissing you again. His tongue pushing past your lips as he commands control of both of your mouths.

Your body tenses, shivering against the immovable will that his Eustass-goddamned-Kid as the pleasure within you crests. Your cry of pleasure breaks the kiss as you’re squirming uselessly under him. His lips find your neck instead, teeth and tongue leaving their mark and urging more desperate growls of pleasure from you as you orgasm against him.

A few heavy thrusts, a satisfied grunt that sinks into your neck, you can feel his pleasure already leaking down your body. He slumps against you, head resting against your chest, as you both just enjoy the quiet afterglow for a moment.

You wonder idly if he got any sleep at all last night, and what could he possibly have been up to? What the hell happened yesterday that would leave Kid docile and spent after a single round?

It would be some hours before you would know. The velvet wrapped custom wooden box was still perfectly wrapped in Kid’s coat. From the box to its contents, he had made everything, in a single day, at someone else’s workshop, because he didn’t want you to see anything.

Not until he was ready.

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

[birrdies]

Chapters: 7/10 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game), Hermitcraft SMP, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Empires SMP Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Charles | Grian/Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Charles | Grian & Jimmy | Solidarity, Charles | Grian & Jimmy | Solidarity & Pearl | PearlescentMoon Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Psychological Horror, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Horror, Paranormal, Childhood Trauma, Charles | Grian-centric, Charles | Grian Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Charles | Grian is Not Okay, Charles | Grian and Jimmy | Solidarity and Pearl | PearlescentMoon are Siblings, Family Issues, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar Needs a Hug, Protective Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Psychic GoodTimesWithScar, Detective Charles | Grian, Jimmy | Solidarity Needs a Hug, Small Towns, Folklore, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence

Hermit’s Hollow was a quiet town where you learned to ignore whisperings of nonsense and the dull, persistent feeling of being watched before you learned to ride a bike. To call it pedestrian would be a great disservice to all the terrible oddities occupying it— folks and legends alike.

Not that Grian believed any of them, of course.

Or; There's something wrong in Hermit's Hollow. There's something wrong with Grian. Neither of these are a surprise to him.