#hope y'all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing :'))

[blueberri-blu]

Hi hi! Can I request Rise Donnie seeing his s/o wearing a "I <3 nerds" shirt?

Hiii!! Of course! I love it when y'all send requests! At first, I was thinking of making headcanons... But then my mind came up with a much funnier idea, so I present to you this Oneshot (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠)

I <3 Nerds ✯

[Rise]Donnie x gn!reader

Slightly Suggestive

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April gifted you the shirt as a gag gift, a white shirt with black writing that said "I <3 Nerds"

It had been sitting in the back of your closet, waiting for a good use for it. You were always teasing him, whether it was moving some of his things only a couple centimeters, or sitting in his lap while he's working.

You randomly remembered the shirt while getting dressed and thought, why not?, you didn't think you'd actually get a reaction from him.

So, you wore the t shirt and some comfy pants and went down to the lair.

You said hi to Mikey and Leo who were in the living room, and waved to Raph who was training, and made a beeline to the lab

When you opened the door and walked in, you noticed Donnie was standing and working on his jetpack. You walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder

He turned to you, giving you his full attention, "Oh, hello dearest, I don't remember you notifying me of your visit?" "Sorry Don, it's just my schedule cleared up, so I thought I'd come see you!" Your happy grin made him relax a bit. "Well in that case, allow me to finish up here, and I will accompany you to the kitchen for some pizza" "aaaaaalrighty don" he quirked an eyebrow at your elongated word, a clear sign you were up to something

While he was working, he kept shooting you suspicious glances, almost as if to tell you to fess up what it was you were up to

But you stayed quiet, albeit, grinning like the Cheshire cat, but quiet. Once he finished, Donnie walked over to you, and gave you a hug, allowing his head to fall onto your shoulder.

"Doooooniiiieeeee" oh no he thought, what did you do... "Yes, my love" "Did you see my shirt?" He looked at you curiously, then looking down, reading it, taking a second to process it, and saying "Oh, *amused chuckle* well now, so you love Nerds, hm?" "It's what the shirt says" "hmph well, it's completely inaccurate"

You had seen Donnie jealous a couple times, he'd normally end up with his hand on your waist, and him telling you about all the amazing things he's done, but this was a feeling you couldn't quite place

Donnie grabbed your waist, hoisted you up onto his desk, standing between your legs. He reached over you, your face all too close to his plastron, grabbing a black permanent marker. He proceeded to scratch out the "Nerds" part of your shirt while saying "I am not a nerd, I am a genius, there is quite the difference dearest"

After scratching out "nerd" he wrote "My Genius, Donnie" on it , only in purple marker instead. And since he already had you here, he might as well take advantage.

You were blushing, definitely not thinking he'd react this way. Donnie closed the distance between you two. He kissed you until your lips were red and puffy, then started to trail kisses down your neck. Once he reached the base of your neck, he stopped, and he whispered "Do you want to be mine?" you were putty in his hands, too lost in how much affection he was giving you, you just nodded. He proceeded to leave little bite marks on your shoulder, and then licking and kissing them better.

Once your shoulder was covered in Donnie's bites, he pulled away, satisfied with his work. "I suggest we hurry if you still want pizza, surely Leo will have no issue finishing a box by himself, My Love" you were still a bit hazed from his onslaught, but followed anyway.

You will be getting more of these shirts for him to "correct"

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I loved this idea! Maybe I went a little overboard, but... I regret nothing. I really hope you enjoyed it! I love y'all <3

[skzthelomlhehe]

Part two is heeerrrreeee~~~ hope y'all enjoy all this brainrot I'm having hahahahaha I lost my mind midway through writing this so idek what I wrote lololol hope it feeds y'alls delulu minds thooo~

MDNI // smutty. Very smutty. // Established relationships // x F!reader

How your boyfriend!skz will react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie when they come home after a long day at work. [Ot8] {Pt. 2: maknae line}

Han Jisung

When i tell you he'll MELT. Like I'm saying FOLDED, WHIMPERING, FUCKING TREMBLING like- believe me or not- THE MAN IS GONNA LOSE HIS MIND. Like just imagine. He had a tough day at work, comes home expecting to like cuddle and whine in your arms and he just walks in on you wearing a lingerie makes you look so so so fucking pretty. He'll stand there on the door way, jaw dropped, whimpering squealing whatever. He's gonna walk up to you and embrace you in the warmest fucking hug, nuzzle into your neck and let you rub his painful bulge over his clothes before letting all that scrumptious milk out along with all his worries after. When you both are done he'd just lay there cuddling you going "oh baby... I love you so much... Fuck why are you so damn beautiful?? You're making me lose my fucking mind here..." And just whine cuz he just can't resist you.

Felix

Ok so hear me out. When people look at Felix they're usually like 'oh he's just a submissive ball of sunshine' BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HOW MISCHIEVOUS THE MAN IS??? Don't let his cute and innocent, pretty little face fool you, chat. Cuz he's a very sly little kitten and he KNOWS it. I said what I said and I rest my case. When he sees you in that lingerie he's gonna walk up to you without a word, hold your face gently with those little hands, kiss you deeply and go "oh darling... You always know how to get my mind off of things... Didn't know you'd have this under your sleeve too~" in the deepest motherfckn voice ever. {I shit you not- while I was writing this I suddenly started hearing moans from the other room and realised my uncle was watching corn 💀 anyways back to Felix} like- the man is gonna RAVAGE you. He's gonna eat you out like you're the last meal he'll have. He'll let you know how stupidly attractive you looked in those garments with the minimum fabric. He's gonna let you know how fucking scrumptious you are and how much he loves the way you are.

Seungmin

For seungmin, you'd think he had no feelings or thoughts. He'd walk in, not even surprised by your antiques. He'd probably just walk over to you slowly and then grab you by the waist and whisper into your ear like, "you know I had a bad today... And the things you're doing right now is very very dangerous..." He's the typa guy who would quiet down COMPLETELY when he's upset so when he gets your permission he'd just pick you up, throw you on the bed and feel you like a puppy he is all night long. I feel like he's the type who would whimper and groan in your arms and make the bed CREAKIN iykwim 😉 and instead of doing the work, he would just lay there while you ride him cuz he loves it when you're taking the lead, caressing him, loving him and just... Making him feel like the most loved man ever.

Jeongin

Ok so- hear me out- let's put aside the 'saving myself for after marriage' thing for a second (while I do respect it, let's just put it aside for a tiny bit) I feel like when he gets home and the first thing he sees is you like that, on their bed, laying there welcoming him, he'd look at you with those foxy slender eyes of his with this sly smirk (if you know what I mean, you know. If you don't, that's sad and I'm so sorry you don't cuz HONEY you're missing out.) once he's done eye fucking you from the door frame he'd just walk up to you like the fox he is (ok but why do I like- imagine him making some tiny fox squeals too???) he'd just go over to you, get on top of you while placing soft wet kisses then whisper in your ear like "is this the surprise you were talking about when I said I was having a bad day earlier, hm? You're such a cutie, yknow that?" And then nibble at the lobe of your ear. People think that he doesn't enjoy physical contact given the way he is (which might be true lol) but I feel like with his lover he'd be just a snuggly fox and a very soft loaf of bread. (And then daddy toastie comes out Lolol)

Once again, these are all my assumptions so please don't take anything seriously it's all just brainrot I've been having. They're their own individuals and I completely respect them and dearly love and cherish them.

That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed!

[giraffenamjoon]

up all night (jihoon x reader)

genre: smut, romance

summary: when you see a scary movie and have trouble falling asleep, your roommate, jihoon, decides to stay up with you.

word count: 9,533 (that was not supposed to happen)

tags: and they were roommates!, friends to lovers, oral sex, safe sex, vaginal sex, wonwoo is a wingman, jihoon is jealous and a little petty, BDE, idiots in love, mild descriptions of horror movie violence based off my memories of something that came out shockingly long ago

read on AO3: up all night

comments and reblogs are loved and cherished and welcomed 🥰

[so-i-did-this-thing]

One of my cosplay traits - which extends to home decor - is to insert little details for whom I am the primary (if not only) audience, but nonetheless (I hope) inject a sense of authenticity into my projects, if not necessarily that of screen-accuracy.

And that is why an envelope of genuine business receipts from the 1940s recently arrived (Crow was very perplexed by the customs declaration), just so I could stuff one or two (which you can barely see in the back) into Siegfried's accounting system. 😅

Please take a look at the ones I did not use, some stellar ephemera here:

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,�� Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[butteronabun]

11/16

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader, college au / chat fic

notes: i had way too much fun with this lmao!! informing u now that diluc & the reader are in an established relationship. also it gets a lil suggestive in the end so uh. proceed with caution ⚠️ I RECOMMEND Y’ALL READ THIS WITH A FULL SCREEN + rip ur wifi because lots of pngs below😘

this is actually a lowkey kinda sequel / future fic of my big big diluc college au that i’ll prolly never got to post 🥴 ( also pls tell me if there are stray photos somewhere hh )

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 1 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning: This is likely to hit close to home for everyone as it's essentially a pandemic fic told from healthcare workers' POV. It's as mild as I can make it, with the boys dealing with their usually lives and stuff, since I don't want this to be a drawn out fic, but still. FYI.)

It started like a whisper.

One case. A new illness, a variant of a disease that had torn through Hyrule's military during the war, had popped up in the outskirts of the Gerudo Desert. Someone who had traveled there recently brought it to Castle Town. But it was just one case.

Everyone had been put on alert with emails from the health department, but no one had really thought much of it. Legend had seen plenty of scares in the past - just as recently as two years ago, there had been another stir like this over a far deadlier disease, and nothing had come of it.

But this new disease--officially named Respiratory Failure Influenza, colloquially called Arfy by healthcare workers, and unofficially called Yiga's Revenge by the public given its point of origin and how it was tearing cities in the desert apart--was starting to make an impact.

To the world at large, the media would not stop talking about Arfy and stirring up the public. Inside Hyrule General, though, the staff was pretty calm about it.

"Who names a disease Arfy, anyway?" one of Legend's coworkers chuckled.

Legend shrugged and stretched. "I've heard worse. At least it's not based after somebody's name - I hated memorizing all those names for diseases. Nowadays the naming scheme's much better - respiratory failure influenza makes it pretty straightforward to figure out what happens."

"Preach," a tech who was in nursing school grumbled.

Time walked by as they chatted, and Legend nodded in greeting, throwing out, "Whatever reason you're here for, it wasn't me, my patients are fine."

The trauma surgeon smirked. "I'm not here for your patients, no."

Legend bristled. "Look, this is my first night shift, I haven't been working insane hours."

Time outright cackled now. "I was consulted for someone else. Relax."

"Good," Legend huffed. "Anyway, did you hear there's a case of Arfy in town? I haven't seen them pop through here, though, think they got diagnosed at an urgent care clinic."

Time hummed thoughtfully, growing serious. "Hopefully it just stays one case."

"Eh," Legend shrugged again with a noncommittal sound. "The media stirs everyone up. This happened last time, and it was contained and never came here."

"Arfy's cousin nearly killed me during the war," Time noted gravely. "Don't underestimate it too much. The fact that it's a brand new strain, and the typical medications for its cousin don't work on it, isn't promising."

"Look, I'm not saying it isn't something to take seriously," Legend argued mildly. "But it's isolated to three cities in Gerudo Desert, and then the one guy who came here. The media makes it sound like the world's ending."

"They tend to do that," Time agreed, looking down the hallway. "But in either case... let's just hope it stays as one case."

Wild wandered over at that point with an empty stretcher, having just transported someone to the floor, and both men honed in on him. He looked pale and distracted, but he somehow still managed to notice their scrutiny.

Wild watched them silently, not seeming eager to speak. So Legend talked first. "You want to explain what happened earlier?"

Time glanced between the two, brow furrowing in confusion, and he silently observed the exchange. Wild seemed to grow colder, crossing his arms, but Legend wasn't going to back down.

When his friend remained silent, Wild pressed, "Rulie said it looked like you had another absence seizure when we were dealing with that heart attack patient. Tell me what's wrong. Now."

"I didn't have a seizure," Wild assured them as Time took a protective step towards him. "Look, I just..."

The young man sighed, shriveling into himself further.

"Link," Time said sternly. "I understand you have a lot of things in your past that you're trying to reconcile. But not telling us led to you going undiagnosed and getting into a wreck that almost killed you. What's wrong?"

"When I have absence seizures, sometimes I just zone out. But other times, I get hit with... I don't know, I feel like seizures don't give you memories, okay? I don't think it was a seizure. It was a trigger."

"Trigger?" Legend repeated. "You got PTSD?"

Wild blinked, thought about it, and shrugged while shaking his head. "Probably not. Sorry. Bad phrasing."

"You have said before that you don't remember much of the war and your past because you sustained serious injuries," Time supplied. "I know you did. I operated on you. Twice."

"Sorry," Wild mumbled sheepishly.

"Just tell us what's wrong," Legend insisted as gently as he could. "What set you off?"

Wild was silent for a long time, and Legend almost grew impatient. However, eventually, he finally said, "I... I know the guy. The one who you were taking to the cath lab. I knew him be-before. Please, I don't want to talk about it right now."

Time and Legend exchanged a look, and the surgeon shook his head. Legend sighed, backing off. "Okay. But you're okay? Like physically?"

"Yeah," Wild answered, voice growing raw. Legend watched him worriedly.

"You know, you can talk to us," the nurse tried to say, but Wild shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it," he repeated.

Time nodded, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "When you're comfortable, we're all here for you, okay?"

Wild stared at Time for too long, eyes watering, and he cleared his throat, nodding and walking away.

Legend bit his lip, swallowed, and looked back at Time. The surgeon was still watching Wild go down the hall. A call bell light went off, as well as a cautionary alarm on the monitors, and the nurse had to return to work, brain filled with too many thoughts and worries.

Time found himself far more nostalgic than he needed to be. Wild's words about his past, about the war, and this new virus that was kin to the one that had almost killed the surgeon were mixing together. He sighed, shaking his head. This all just needed to resolve.

He would keep an eye on Wild. That was the bigger issue than anything else.

It started like a whisper. But the roar of their pasts was coming for them, haunting and rumbling and demanding everyone’s attention.

[sipthegossip-if]

Guys, I am writing the prologue rn and I am having a BLAST. This shit is actually so fun. 😭

[bittybeanie]

oh boy! time to post a new fic! I can't believe it's been *checks calendar* ....oh. uh. oops. ignore that! it's the fourth and final installment of (this) aspec reigen series, complete with a lite™ version of a couple different kinks and finally getting to touch the peen! this one's real long, folks, clocking in at about 9,500 words, so you might wanna get a nice beverage and settle in.

content notes: thigh riding, themes of consent, drunk almost sex, a discussion about the drunk almost sex in the following scene, praise kink, a very loose (literally) definition of bondage, and so so many pet names. minors please don't interact!

also on ao3!

It takes more than a couple tries for you to get settled on the bed. You’re too close, then too far, and Reigen can’t get comfy, and your hand keeps sliding out from under you, and he can’t decide how he wants your leg angled, and there’s too many clothes, then all at once so few clothes that it feels like too much at once and you hastily agree to put your shirts back on, not wanting to break the already fragile layer of quiet hope.

Finally, finally, everything is perfect.

Awkward, stilted, and a little tense, and you’re not sure how long your leg will let you keep it just barely raised like this before it cramps up, but he’s here, embarrassed but steadfast, breath coming out in shivery gasps, hovering over your thigh, one hair fisted in the back of your hair. If he tips over, there’s no way you’re not going with.

Perfect.

His thighs shake as he holds himself up, deciding which direction he wants to move. You reach for the small of his back to steady him. "Does this count as keeping my hands out of the way?" He nods, so you test the waters by sliding your other hand up his thigh.

"As long you don’t- just no direct touching. Close to is fine, just not… well." He moves a hand back and forth across where he’s hovering over your thigh.

“Keep off the goods. Gotcha."

"The goods? Awful. You're awful, I swear."

You slide your hand up, just barely skimming your fingernails over his hip when you catch the hem of his shirt, and his cock twitches in his boxers.

"The goods don't seem to agree."

"Oi." Despite his protests, the laughter loosens him, and he relaxes enough to lean back into your knee. “Fine, fine, just stop saying goods.”

“Alright.�� He raises an eyebrow. You lift both hands in surrender. “I promise! I will never again use ‘the goods’ to refer to your perfect, gorgeous, suckable-”

“I get it! I get it.” He grabs onto your shoulder - maybe in an effort to distract you, or maybe just to keep his balance - as he shifts closer. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his ears. “Here, actually, can you-? Hm.” He presses a hand against the inside of your other leg, thumb digging in as he gives a shove. He slides a knee into the newly free space between your legs, leaning forward to get a better angle. Your hands settle back on his waist.

“Better?”

“Much.” He lets out a little hum as he pushes his hips forward, and you have to stamp down a whimper at the feeling, his dick heavy and warm even through fabric.

“Didn’t mean to just push like that, though. Sorry.”

“S’okay. I’ll survive a little manhandling, as a treat.” You hit the last “t” sound with a click of your tongue, and he falls into your neck with a laugh. You trace patterns on his hips as he moves, tracking the motion as you press your fingers into his skin. “God, how do you get your hips to move that smooth? It’s sorta mesmerizing.”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just- I wasn’t thinking about it. S’just what f- ha, feels good.” His breath fans out across your collarbone, warm and fast.

“Yeah? You like using my thigh, baby? No thoughts other than what feels good? Your own personal toy to get yourself off against?”

“Oi.” His hips stutter once before he falls back into a slower rhythm. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he pulls you closer.

“Too much?”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

You can’t help but laugh, a light chuckle coming out in a breath against his hair. “I know, ‘Taka, I know.” You slide your hands under his shirt, over his stomach and up to his collarbone. “But would it really be so bad to belong to you?”

“I- fuck.” There’s a moment of worry when he shoves you away, but then he’s scrambling for the hem of his shirt and pulling.

“Are you sure?” It’s a formality, uttered even as you’re already reaching to help slide the fabric over his elbows, but it’s one you can’t even imagine going without.

“Very.” He lifts himself off of you to push his boxers down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he shimmies them all the way off. The mattress shifts and pitches him over, and you hurry to grab his arm.

He crawls back over to straddle your thigh, the tip of his cock tapping lightly against your side before he leans back onto his ankles.

“Do I need to get-?” You chuck his shirt into infinity and gesture vaguely to the bedside drawer. He’s technically never told you that he started keeping lube in there, but he hasn’t made much effort to keep the secret either.

He shakes his head. “I’m close. Won’t matter.”

He tries to go back to rutting against you, anchoring his hands on your waist to tilt his hips this way and that, but something about the new angle is off, and he can’t get any good contact.

“Oh no, now horrible, your dick is just so hard it won’t stay down on its own.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he scoots to sit closer, flush making its way from his ears to the edges of his cheeks.

“That gorgeous curve probably isn’t helping, either. In this case, anyway. Be an absolute treat to have inside me, though.” You press your thumbs in just above his knees, encouraging him to spread his legs more, and he jumps with a squeak, hands flying to grab yours. “Sorry, sorry, di-”

“No, it’s-” He pulls your hands together, just in front of his stomach, and the tip of his cock brushes against you. For a moment, you think he’s going to pull down, but he guides your hands back to his hips, pressing them into his skin as he rolls his hips. “Here.”

He gives up and puts his hand flat over his dick, pinning it down against your leg. He lifts himself to adjust the angle, just his tip dragging along your skin until he bumps into your hip, precum rolling out in a thin line over your thigh. When he pulls back, he grinds down insistently, coating his length and covering what isn’t already marked of your thigh so he can slide more easily. After a few impatient jolts of his hips, he settles back into a rhythm, smooth and fluid, and lets up on the pressure of his hand. He slings his other arm over your shoulder to pull you closer, and he falls forward to bury his face in your neck, whining into your collarbone.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was close, because it only takes a few drags of his cock against you for him to seize up, body tensing before going boneless, cum rolling over his hand and onto your hip as he slumps against you in a mess of pants and sighs. You slide your hands up his back to support his full weight, pressing kisses to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Just… gimme a second, I can cl- get you- god, my legs.” He rolls off of you with none of his usual grace, limbs falling everywhere at once, lightly smacking your arm as he goes limp.

You laugh and push his hair back from his face. You don’t bother to untangle your legs from his, accepting your fate of needing a shower later in exchange for getting to lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Eh, let it dry.”

“I’m starting to think you like it more than tolerate it.”

“If you haven’t gotten the hint by now that I want you to absolutely cov-”

He gives you a shove, rolling his hand so there’s no real force behind it, but you seize the chance to topple with a dramatic moan, one hand falling theatrically across your forehead as your eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, stop it.” He crawls over and props himself up on his elbows. You can feel his breath fanning over your collarbone, stilted like he’s trying not to laugh. You crack one eye open, breaking into giggles when you see his forced serious expression, eyebrows pinched together and one cheek sucked into his mouth to keep the smile off his face. He breaks at your laughter, breathing out through his nose and pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Oh, you could take me anywhere, handsome.” You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, and he rolls onto his back with an exasperated groan. You laugh again and sit up, pulling a blanket over him so you can settle in without accidentally brushing somewhere he’d rather you didn’t.

“Hey, Arataka?”

“I love you, too.”

“That, too.” You chuckle. “But I have a real question this time.”

“Oh.” He turns his head. “Sure.”

“After you… when you took my hands earlier, were you…?” The fleeting moment of contact between him and your hands floats through your mind. You can’t help but wonder what he was thinking in the moment he hesitated, but it feels weirdly invasive to ask so bluntly. “Sorry, never mind, this is a weird line of thought.”

You lay down beside him, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as his thumb smooths up your wrist.

“Do you mean…” He takes a steadying breath, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “Do you mean after the clothes came off?”

You nod. For a moment, he stills, not even breathing.

“I was… I wanted so badly to let you touch me. I thought if I didn’t have to say it, if I could just… imply, then I could get around it, but,” he sighs heavily, and he sounds tired when he continues, “I panicked.”

You’re both quiet, long enough that you startle even yourself when you finally break the silence.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“...Panicking?”

“No, angel. Implying.” He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “Maybe you just have to imply for a little longer.”

“I’m not following.”

“What if you left your hand on top of mine? That way it’s like- it’s the same as when you do it, but it sort of, hm, bridges the gap? All the sexy, none of the surprise.”

For a long moment, you’re not sure if he’s quiet because he’s thinking or because he’s falling asleep.

He hums, shoulder rolling under your head, and he pulls you tighter against his side.

+

"Okay." You shift nervously, tucking your foot underneath yourself, then deciding against it and unfolding your legs. "Walk me through the zones again."

"I'm not a city planning map." He rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand. You’re not sure which one of you the gesture is supposed to comfort.

You shift back onto your knees.

"Here up, anything goes." He points at the middle of his chest. "But try to stay- so more like, well, from maybe..." He gestures to his collarbone and wags his finger up and down. "Here to here, really."

When he looks back at you, you can tell he's waiting for something. You settle for a small nod.

"Right. A-and then, here to here," he points from his chest to just above his hip, "Hands are fine. Doing... whatever." He steadies himself with another deep breath and rushes through the rest. "Legs, stay still, and anything... direct we'll do the- on the- yeah, got it, that's all."

You let him sit for a moment to make sure there's nothing he forgot. His grip on your hand tightens, and you swear he moves to pull you closer, but he must decide against it at the last second.

"Whose hand is going on top again? Sorry, we've swapped it so many times I can't remember if we decided."

"Oh. Right. Um." He hovers his right hand over his left, then swaps them, then swaps them again. “Yours under mine.”

“Got it.” You reach for him, letting him pull your hand up to his collar. "And you know you can tell me to stop at any time?"

"You tell me that every time."

"It's important every time."

He swallows thickly and traces a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I know."

You shift to pull your legs off to the side, then cross them again, then sit back up on your knees. Gently taking the collar of his shirt in your hands, you trail one thumb along the edge of the fabric until you reach the top button. "And can I do this, or would you like to?"

He nods before realizing there were two options in your question, then points at you, then at your hands, then flashes you a thumbs up. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Well, now hold on, I have manners. I'm not going straight for the goods." He laughs and shimmies to sit up straighter, letting his legs straighten out in front of him. "How about the pants later?"

"Uh, right, that's, I didn't think about that. I mean it would make sense that you're going to be- I mean it's not like-"

"Arataka."

"Yeah." He swallows.

"I'm not going to be offended if you’d like to take off your own pants."

He pauses, staring down at his knee. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I want you to do it."

"And your-?"

"Just do it at the same time."

"Got it." You take a steadying breath of your own. "I won't stay there, but is it okay if I straddle you for a little bit? I wa-"

His hands are pulling at your waist before you can get your legs properly unfolded, and you almost tumble over him. He laughs an apology as you move on top of him, hovering over his legs to avoid making any real contact.

You brush his bangs back from his face, following through with the motion until your fingers tangle in the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. He tilts to follow your hand, craning his neck to keep you from pulling.

"Ready?"

He nods slightly.

"I’d like a verbal yes for this one, lovely."

He swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yeah, yes.” He nods again. His hand jerks, taking yours with it, and he awkwardly lets your hand fall into his lap. You do your best not to move. “I trust you."

You drag your gaze back up to his face, searching for any last signs of reluctance. A bead of sweat trails down his temple, and you’re certain if you put your hand to his cheek you’d worry he had a fever. Sure enough, when you slide your fingers along his jaw, he’s hot to the touch, and the tips of his ears are turning brighter shades of red by the second.

He clears his throat, pushing his jaw into your palm. “Are you gonna-?”

“In a minute.” You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m savoring.”

He scoffs at that, the same scoff he uses when he sees somebody do something stupid in public, and you take the opportunity to catch him by surprise, surging forward to push him down onto the bed. His hands go to your shoulders on instinct but he pulls them back almost immediately, hovering awkwardly in the space between you. Using your grip on his chin, you angle his head so you can lean down and kiss him without knocking your noses together.

Once you’re sure you can support yourself without falling on him, you allow your free hand to trail down, tracing down the muscles in his neck, across his collarbone and back, finally settling on the first button of his shirt. It takes a little effort to get it undone with just one hand, but you manage it, and you allow yourself to dip down as you settle into a rhythm, lips ghosting along Reigen’s skin as you uncover more of it.

He’s shivering, hand shaking where it hovers over yours on the last button of his shirt. When you slide your hand back up along his side, his hand falls back to the bed, pulling at a wrinkle in the sheets.

You kiss along his jaw, savoring the feeling every time his breath catches in his throat under your lips. Your hand trails down along his side, wrapping around him to hold his waist when he arches up into the press of your thumb. He hums, eyelids fluttering, and you dare to slide your hand down, ever so slightly, thumb brushing over his waistband and back onto bare skin.

He grabs for you, grasp tight around your wrist, almost painful before he slowly relaxes and drags your hand back up toward his chest. You push yourself off him, swinging your leg to kneel beside him.

“Here, let’s try this.” You guide him to sit up. Once he’s situated against the headboard, you settle in by his thigh, your knee pressing gently into his hip. One hand traces circles and patterns as you trail down to his stomach. “Still good?”

He hums, but he scrambles for your wrist again, holding on tighter and tighter the closer you get to the button on his pants.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know. I can let you do it.”

“That’s not- mm.” He relaxes his death grip on your arm but keeps his thumb hooked around it. After a few tries to let go completely, his head tips forward into your shoulder. “I thought I would… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and slowly pull away. “Nothing to apologize for.” You cup his face with both hands and gently turn him, but he doesn’t hold your gaze for long. 

“Do you want to keep going? Should I…?”

He opens his mouth, but says nothing. His expression is pinched, tight with something you’re not sure how to label. His fingers press together, thumb and index, thumb and middle, thumb and ring, thumb and pinky, over and over as you lean back, nodding softly.

“Stay in bed?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You swear he flinches, and you clear your throat. “Or move to the couch and watch something?”

“Couch.” He nods once, stiff and harsh, and swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and slides out of bed, starting to button his shirt back up as he wanders into the other room.

You keep nodding as if in a trance, and you follow him out. 

+

Despite the now faint memory of some friend of a friend forcefully inviting you, there's not a single soul at the party you recognize. With the exception of a few people dancing by the kitchen, closer to the speakers, everyone has settled for taking a seat and awkwardly bobbing their head. You’ve repeated the same three lines of small talk more times than you can count, it's just cold enough that you've had the chills the whole time while still managing to feel overwhelmingly stifled, and the music is so awful you wonder how somebody hasn’t tried to change it yet. But there's alcohol, the good stuff that somebody is clearly very particular about, and lots of it. You can't remember how much you've had, and that fact is enough to tell you it was probably too much, but it doesn't stop you from taking whatever the host is passing out when they wander through.

You think Reigen might be the only person doing worse than you. He looks... woozy. His face is flushed and his eyes are lidded like he might throw up, pass out, or both at any moment. At one point he took a tumble when he tried to sit down, graciously ignored by everyone else, and you had to throw your arm around his waist to keep him from sliding down the front of the couch again. He's leaning on you for support every time he moves, and if there were anything left in his can you’re sure he would be spilling it on you right now.

He's restless at the best of times, you know this, but even through the fog you can tell something is off. Not wrong exactly, but he keeps giving you this sideways glance, digging his fingers into your thigh to steady himself and then yanking his hand away, knocking his head into your shoulder and muttering something you haven't been able to make out.

He laughs - way too loudly at something you're not sure was supposed to be funny - and stands abruptly. Your hand around his waist falls limp on the couch, and he sways without the support.

"I'm going to the re- the ba- I gotta piss."

Nobody but you pays him any attention. He takes a wobbly step forward, knocking his foot into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn't seem fazed. His knees bend at a weird angle as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then he straightens back up and whirls around to face you. The momentum sends him tumbling back down, and you manage to catch him before his nose smashes into your jaw.

"I guess you better help me there."

"Yeah." Your voice crackles from dehydration. You have to clear your throat and try again to get a recognizable sound to come out. "Alright." You do a quick mental scan of your legs to make sure they'll support you before you motion for him to get up so you can stand. He does, grabbing your wrist and pulling with the conviction of somebody who does not need help walking.

The gears in your head start to turn.

He drags you along, glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner into the hallway, only stumbling once when he has to screech to a halt and back up to yank a door open. He pushes you inside, pulling the door closed behind him after he follows you in.

It's pitch black, and you're not sure if the overwhelming lemon smell is coming from Reigen or something in the room. You reach out to find him, but your fingers brush against something cold and smooth instead, and it's not until it tilts and hits you in the head that you realize it's probably a handle for something. Reigen's hand whacks into your arm and he holds on tight, fingers digging into your shoulder as he pulls you forward.

"I don't think that was the right door."

"Hm? Oh, sure." You can feel the air beside you moving until eventually his other hand finds your face, one finger dragging across your cheek until it hits your nose. "No, I- yeah, I know."

"Then wh-"

He pushes, hard and sudden. You fight to keep your balance as you adjust to the weird backwards lean you find yourself in. Reigen hisses as he pulls his fingers out from between you and the wall.

"Dumb, that was so dumb. Sorry." He fumbles for your waist to guide you backwards, and you feel his hips press against you when he reaches past your head to lean on the wall.

Everything clicks together all at once.

Your hands fly to where his waist should be. Once you find him, you're not sure if you want to shove him away or pull him in closer.

"You're super drunk. I don't know if-"

"Tha's the point." The hand on your face slides around until his thumb catches your bottom lip. He sways, like talking about it has made him remember how much he's had to drink. When he leans against you, he's heavier than normal, like he can’t support his weight anymore. "Liquid courage."

"I’m drunk." 

"Mm. Shit." He pulls away, just barely, and he nods. "Do you mind?"

Your mouth drops open uselessly. All your thoughts feel like static, indecipherable noise screaming for you to do something, if only you could figure out what. He's squirming now, like it hurts to stay still. You realize he's whimpering at the same time you realize he's grinding his hips against your leg.

“M’fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and drops his hands as he shuffles around. You take the chance to stand back up. When you finally bump into each other again, he wraps his arms around you and squeezes, his breathing coming out in pants against your chest.  He hooks one leg around yours, tapping his foot against your heel to bring your leg forward. You make a strangled humming sound when he grinds against your thigh.

"Hey, where's your hand?"

"My...?" You suddenly remember you have hands. You allow yourself a moment of silence for all the time you could have been holding onto him before you push one hand forward. It smacks into what you think is his stomach. "Sorry. Here."

"S'kay. Stay put." You keep your hand pressed against him as he leans backward. You're not sure when he stopped holding onto you, but one of his hands is suddenly over yours, and a loud zip cuts through the sound of you both breathing. He slides his hand down, dragging yours with it. Your fingers glide along his skin, smooth and soft, until you brush against a patch of hair.

A sobering panic cuts through you.

He must realize what he's doing at the same time you do, because you both freeze. His grip tightens. He guides your hand away from him slowly, stopping when he makes contact with your side.

"Stay... stay put."

He turns and scrambles for the door. Something falls beside you when he misses the doorknob, then you're squinting as light floods in from the hallway. You can make out the silhouette of him sprinting into the room diagonal from where you're standing, and then there's the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Your place is only two blocks away - no more than a ten minute walk.

You call a cab service.

+

It smells like coffee.

When you try to sit up, the room spins. You end up in a sort of half sit, half lean as you grab onto the side of the mattress, willing everything to stay still. You take stock of the things that are clear enough to look at, slowly making sense of what happened once you got home.

You're laying on top of the covers, still in your clothes from last night. One shoe is in the doorway, and the other is nowhere in sight, probably somewhere closer to the entrance. The coffee smell, growing more enticing by the second, is a good sign Reigen's in the kitchen.

You slide onto the floor beside your bed, not trusting yourself to stand up without falling just yet, to rummage for more comfortable clothes. Once you manage to get changed, you stand up slowly, and make your way to the kitchen.

Reigen must have grabbed a set of pajamas at some point last night, though you can't remember when. His back is turned to you; he's lazily stirring something on the stove. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on the counter beside him. Before you can decide whether you want to say something and risk startling him, he seems to sense you standing there, and he turns around with a weak smile.

"Hey."

"Morning?" It's both a greeting and a question, because you have no idea what time it is.

"Yeah." He lets out a breathy chuckle. "How, um, how you feeling?"

Your head is throbbing so bad your teeth hurt, your legs and back are sore, and you have a looming sense of guilt.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, really." He clicks off the fire and reaches for a bowl. "I told you, I felt basically back to normal after I- well, um, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for car- for carrying me."

You nod softly, feeling a little useless as he hands you what looks and smells like a very delicious soup.

"Reigen, I am so-" "I didn't mean-"

He reaches for a second bowl. "You first." When you start to shake your head, he rolls his wrist in a "go on" motion. "Please. I'm not actually sure how to say mine yet."

"Right." You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your spoon. Deep in thought, you miss Reigen slipping past you. He clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. You slide into the chair. Your spoon clanks against the bowl as you set it down. "I, um. Shit, I'm so sorry."

He seems surprised, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips.

"What for?"

"Wh-" You blink. "Every... thing? I- I know sorry doesn't even cover it, but I-"

"Whoa, hey, okay." He shakes his hand in front of him. "Never mind, I'll go first, because I think you got the wrong idea and I'm not gonna let you apologize for anything that happened."

"But you trusted me, and I-"

"And I still do. That's- that was the whole- look, I-" He sighs. His spoon clanks as he sets it down, abandoned in favor of wringing his hands together. "I set you up."

"You-?"

"I didn't mean to! I thought- It was stupid, and I should have just told you what I was trying to do, I know , but I- I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I thought if I could speed up the process, then- I mean, there's only so many times you can put up with almost getting to- if I could- ugh, sorry, hang on."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You swear your headache is reacting sympathetically, because pain shoots between your temples, dull but persistent. He goes to retrieve the coffees from the kitchen, just cool enough to drink, and you down some as soon as he hands you a mug.

"You've been so patient, and I know you would never do anything I didn't want, but I... I keep overthinking it. And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to... to not have to think about it at all. I mean that's- that's just what people do at parties, right, and- I mean, it was... ugh." He sits back down, his posture unnaturally rigid. He chooses his next words carefully, pausing between words as if he’s testing out different sentences in his head. "I trusted you… to not take it further than I was comfortable with… more than I trusted myself to… not panic over nothing. So, I- I saw the chance and I..." He gestures weakly, hand falling back to the table with a soft thump.

"Liquid courage."

He takes a sip of his coffee and slumps forward, holding his chin with one hand.

"You... got drunk on purpose?"

"Not originally, but, uh."

You nod slowly. Your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven't actually eaten any of your soup. You take a reluctant spoonful, chewing slowly as you take everything in.

"When you froze up, it- I realized how little I had thought it through. I- it wasn't fair to you. You didn't do anything to- I never should have put you in that position in the first place."

"I... would have appreciated a warning, yeah."

"Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair and leaves it against the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." Reigen relaxes into his chair. As he stretches his legs out, one of his feet bumps against your ankle, and you laugh softly. "I'm still sorry, too. I should have asked more questions. And I didn't... I think I noticed something was wrong but I didn’t realize it was that frustrating for you. Before, I mean. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do something like that."

"It's exclusively a me problem, I promise. I thought something would have worked by now. I don't... I don't really know what’s getting in the way." He shakes his head, breathing out sharply through his nose.

“I mean, literally speaking, your hands.” You laugh and take another sip of your coffee. He tilts his head. “Because, you know, y-you always grab my hand before I-?” He stares, unblinking. “Sorry, too soon to joke, probably,” you mutter into your cup, taking another sip just to have something to do.

When he moves again, it’s with a jerky start, sitting up and leaning forward. “My hands.”

“Yeah, I-”

“No, my hands.” He throws his elbows onto the table. The bowls clatter and his coffee sloshes; his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. His wrists come together in front of you, palms up and fingers curled loosely, as he stares, silent, waiting for a glimpse of recognition to cross your face. It takes a moment, but when he finds it, he grins. “My hands.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Saying so has always been enough.”

You stand, leaning to match his eye level. You consider him, searching for hesitation, but you find none.

You take his hand, and you start pulling.

+

“This is… mine?” An old black tie lays across Reigen’s palms, the ends hanging loosely over his thighs.

“Yeah, you left it here. A while ago, I guess.” You shrug. “You never really liked it, though, plus you’re here all the time anyway, so I didn’t get around to giving it back, and it’s just been here ever since.”

As you slide the drawer closed, he catches a glimpse of an old t-shirt he left on his first night in your place, folded neatly in the back corner, under a small collection of his dress socks. 

There are signs of him everywhere, really, if he looks. His toothbrush in your bathroom, a blanket he bought you for your birthday draped over the back of the couch, his favorite sweater of yours hanging on the handle of the closet, never out of service long enough to make it in with the rest of your clothes.

He’s struck with the realization it’s not just in your things, your home, but in you, the way you gesture with an extra dramatic flourish that wasn’t there before, the unwavering, tight smile that settles on your face when you talk to clients, the softness in your voice when you welcome the kids into the office, quietly clearing a table for them to do homework on, the flashes of movement in the kitchen as you dash back and forth whenever you make recipes he taught you - favorites from when things were harder and uncertain and cooking was his escape, before even the hardest parts of his life were laced with joy.

He’s wearing off on you.

He’s known it for a while, but he’s never put it all together like this, never seen it all so neatly represented in a single black tie, satin and unassuming and full of possibility. You kick your abandoned shoe out of the way, pushing the door shut with a soft click that startles him just enough to draw his attention.

“Still okay?”

He wonders how you’ve worn off on him, which parts of him weren’t there before that he doesn’t notice, can’t notice.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m ready.”

He smooths his thumb over the fabric, watching it wrinkle and crease where he applies pressure. It slides across his palms, dragging slowly as you wrap one end around your hand, until he’s left with empty air, hands outstretched between you.

He feels light.

You take his hands in yours, turning them in toward each other, and start to lay the tie across his wrists.

“Oh, wait!” You pull back right away, and he holds up one finger. “Not- we should take my shirt off first.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You laugh and settle back onto your knees. “Yes, okay, let’s- yeah.”

Reigen stops halfway up. The fabric stays bunched when he lets go, and he pulls your hands to the exposed patch of skin. He can feel the tie, still wrapped around your palm, pressing against his side, cold and smooth, and he swallows thickly. As you drag your hands up, it slides up with you, and a shiver wracks through him when you finally pull the shirt off his arms.

He cups your face, pulling you into a kiss, fingers coming to press at the back of your neck to keep you against him as he topples backward. You catch yourself on one hand, the end of the tie flipping to rest over his shoulder as you climb to straddle him. He’s insistent, both hands tangling in your hair, little sighs and puffs of breath against your mouth as he refuses to pull away for air.

You press a kiss to his cheek to soothe the loss when you lean back. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, locking his fingers together behind your head.

“We could stay like this? My hands are… close-ish together.”

“I can’t see behind me to tie it, but,” you pull his hands around your head, “I’m sure we can figure it out after that.”

He nods. You turn his hands back toward each other and his fingers curl, knuckles pressing together as he relaxes. You drape the tie around his wrists, trying a few different ways of looping it but not finding anything you’re satisfied with.

“Sorry. I just wanna make sure you can get out if you need.”

“It’s alright. I like the attention.”

You freeze, a wobbly grin taking shape as your face heats up.

“‘Taka, I’m supposed to be the composed one!”

“I’m just trying to be honest!” He flexes his wrists, pressing his knuckles together to crack them.

“Don’t worry,” you press both ends of the tie between his hands and motion for him to hold them still, “I like giving you attention.” You fold the middle of the tie over to make two loops and start twisting them in on themselves. “And I wanna hear about it as much as you can bear.”

“You seem plenty composed to me.” He pinches his thumb between two fingers and squeezes.

“Quick recovery. I learned from the best.” You wink and put your fingers through the loops. “Here, hands in here.”

He flattens his hands to squeeze them through, stopping to let you shimmy the tie the rest of the way over. You hold the ends of the tie and give a quick tug before tying them together.

“There, it’ll have to do.” You slip a finger in each loop, making sure there’s enough room to be comfortable without him being able to slip out without meaning to. “It’s a little loose, so don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Sure.” He folds his elbows down, letting his hands come to rest on his chest. He jerks one hand up toward his hair, pulling his other hand with it, and the tie snaps taut. He has the courtesy to look sheepish. “I’ll try.”

You roll your eyes, smile still wide.

“Hands above your head, please.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to get at your neck.” You press up on his elbows, and he unfolds his arms. “Those were in the way.”

“O-oh. Right.”

You lean down, tilting his chin up with one hand, and press a kiss to his throat, savoring the way it moves as he swallows. You trail down until you reach his stomach, dragging your tongue along his skin on the way back up. He exhales sharply, breath moving your hair as you get closer to his face. He forces out a laugh, and he rolls one shoulder.

You glance up. The tie is already starting to come loose, untwisting in the middle, but his hands are clasped together, the tie held in place between his wrists, fingers over the ends.

You kiss him, quick and breathless, and slip your fingers under his waistband. When his breath hitches, you smooth your thumb along the bone there, a reassurance you won’t move yet. You can feel him tense under you, pressing up into your touch, then slowly settling back onto the mattress.

You’re both reluctant to acknowledge the fact that you have to get off of him to take his pants off. You do your best to shimmy them under you, and he lifts his hips to help, but you need both hands to make sure his boxers stay on for now, and you want to make sure he can move his legs, so eventually, begrudgingly, you climb off him.

He takes the opportunity to stretch, his back arching off the bed as you throw his pants off somewhere to worry about later.

“Ooh, pretty. Think you can do that for me again?” You press a thumb to the inside of his thigh, at the edge of where his boxer leg has ridden up, and he jumps, hips rolling against your touch.

“Trickery.” He squirms, a whine that refuses to come out shining through in his voice. “Not fair.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more chances.” You trail your fingers up his thigh, along the “v” of the bone, up his stomach. He shivers when you trail back down, your fingers catching on the waistband of his boxers to drag it over his skin before letting go, settling your hand lightly over the bulge in the fabric. It’s slightly damp against your skin, and Reigen chokes back a moan when you press down. 

You pull, grinding your palm down on his cock as the waistband moves until you can see the base of it, then you slide back up, tracing the outline of him with your fingers. When he whimpers, you’re too slow to hide your grin, and he glares halfheartedly.

“Having fun down there?”

“Oh, lots, thanks.” You slip your thumb below the elastic. “Seems like you are, too.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You lift your hand with mock alarm, and he scrambles to reach for you, slowly lowering his arms to his chest when he sees your smile.

“Yes.”

“So, just to make sure, you are having fun?” It’s just as sarcastic as it is serious, and he seems to take it in equal measures, because he scoffs at the same time he nods. Both hands are on his hips now, both thumbs in his waistband, and you pull up gently to get him to lift his hips.

“Good boy.”

You’re not sure you would have felt it if you weren’t holding him, but he definitely shudders, trembling where your fingers press into his skin.

“Arataka.”

“Hmm?” He sounds breathless, and his chest heaves with effort, the rest of him as still as he can keep it.

“Should I keep calling you a good boy?”

“Um. If you want.” He jerks his hips up, and you take the hint to slide his boxers off, keeping an eye on his face as you do. You climb between his legs and lean over him, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, firmly but gently, your thumb over the tip.

He squeaks, and he tenses, but he doesn’t reach for your hands.

“You’re doing so well, ‘Taka.” He swallows, and he shifts his hands, twisting the tie so he can lay his arms closer to his hair. “Such a good boy for me.” Precum oozes out of his slit, and you feel it roll down your hand.

“Mhm.” You lean back on your heels. “How about this? You tell me what feels good, and every time you do,” you pull your thumb down, spreading the precum along his length, “I’ll let you know just how much I appreciate it. Sound good?”

He nods, and you stop moving.

“Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his wrists together, “yes, sounds good.”

“Good job.” When you lean to kiss him, grip tightening to keep his dick down against his stomach, his knuckles brush over your hair. “So perfect.”

You start slow, focusing more on touching every inch of him then keeping any sort of rhythm. When you trail up the vein on the underside, he shivers, and he gasps when you squeeze the base, and his hips jerk up when you pass over his slit, one leg coming up to press his ankle against your side. It’s not until you slip your other hand around him, though, arm passing through the space created by the bend of his knee to settle on his outer thigh, that he says anything.

“Fuck, that, more of that. P-please.”

“This hand?” You press your fingers into his thigh. He presses back.

“Yeah. I need… just, hold onto me.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You scoot closer to wrap your hand tighter around his leg, spreading your legs to slip your knee underneath him. Once he relaxes, the full weight of his leg on yours, you press a kiss to his knee. “Good boy.”

“Shit,” he laughs, squirming closer to you. “S’not close enough.”

“Let me try something, then.” You slide backwards, reluctantly letting his leg fall to the bed, and you shimmy onto your stomach. When you pull his leg over your shoulder, he immediately hooks his ankle into your back and lets out a breathy moan. The pressure makes it a little harder to reach back around his thigh, but he relaxes into it easier, and the view is incredible. “There you go, perfect.”

You start up a little faster this time, twisting your wrist as you move up and down, and he bucks up into your hand. You risk a kiss to his thigh and his hands fly to your hair, the ends of the tie flowing down against your cheek.

“Sorry, too much?”

“Not enough.” His voice is scratchy now, and he gives a little tug once he gets a hold of you. “Can you, don’t put it- but, closer?”

“You want me here instead?” You press a kiss to the underside of his cock, flipping the loose ends of the tie out of the way to lay across his hip.

“Y-yes. Yes, fuck.”

“Gladly.” Between words, you pepper kisses along his shaft, following the trail of your hand up and down. “Thank you for letting me do this for you. You look so beautiful like this, feeling so good.”

He starts to make a noise of protest, but it quickly shifts into a stifled groan when you press a kiss to his tip, just barely letting your tongue drag across his slit as you pull away.

He whines and bucks his hips to follow you, and you can’t help but let an incredulous laugh slip out. “Alright, love, I’m gonna give you a choice, okay?”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Option one, you can tell me exactly how you want me to make you come. If you want my hand or my mouth or to go faster or slower or anything at all you just have to say the word. But I won’t do anything you don’t tell me, so you’ll have to say exactly what you want.”

His breathing is ragged, and he twitches in your grasp. “And option two?”

You grin and lean over him, propping yourself up on one hand. “I do whatever makes you the loudest, and if you stop making those pretty noises for me, I stop.” He seems to flinch at that, and you brush his hair back. “Just for a little while.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed, and he pulls his arms in and down to drape one across his forehead. The tie was never really secure in the first place, but after quite a bit of pulling and flailing, it’s fully undone by now, nothing but luck and stubborn determination holding the loops in place around Reigen’s wrists.

“Both options, of course, come with all sorts of praise and admiration.” You slip a finger under the fabric and give a light tug. He lifts his hands to let the tie slide free.

When he opens his eyes, a shudder running down his spine, he sees you absent-mindedly tying the tie around your neck, uneven and loose, hanging down between you to brush against his stomach. He’s sure you just needed somewhere to put it, something to do with your hands, but it flips a strangely possessive switch somewhere inside him. Not because he’s seeing you in his clothes - he’s had the privilege of that many times before - but because you’ve taken the thing that was supposed to restrain his ability to fuck up the situation, taken something he left safe for you to keep track of without even realizing he’d done it, taken the symbol of his presence in your space and your time and your life, and you’ve put it on without a second thought. He thinks of his misguided reasoning that got you into this situation, that he trusts you with him more than he trusts himself, and he knows what he wants.

For once, words are failing him, which just makes the choice even easier.

“Second one.”

Your eyebrows raise a little, like you’re surprised at his answer, and he almost takes it all back, but then you’re grinning and leaning down to cup his jaw, kissing him like he’s giving you the only air you could ever breathe, and he moans into your mouth.

You lean away just enough to pull in a gasp of air, fingers sliding to tangle into the base of his hair.

“Just like that, gorgeous.”

He laughs, sucking in a shaky breath as you wrap your hand around him again. It pinches into a sort of strained whimper as he starts to quiet himself and thinks better of it, and you start moving.

“That’s it, good boy, just let me take care of everything.”

For all he got into his head before, breaking the seal of touching him seems to have removed any last bits of hesitation, because he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. Your experimenting earlier left you with a good idea of what will get the best noises out of him, and he doesn’t hold back. You’re silently thankful, not only because you get to hear him, but also because you’re not sure you could have followed through on your threat of stopping. And if he’s exaggerating for your sake, all clipped moans and raspy mumbling and bucking hips, well, you’re not going to complain.

After a particularly tight stroke up his cock and a brush of teeth up the inside of his thigh, he pulls one arm over his mouth, pushing it against his lips with his other hand. You’re still deciding if that counts as muffling his sounds enough to slow down when he bites his wrist and yelps, a loud, desperate, frantic noise that seizes what little of your attention isn’t already on him. His head tips back as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, hand flipping to clamp down over his mouth, and you can see the bite mark, lines pressed into the pale skin just below the jut of bone where palm meets wrist. It takes you a minute to realize he’s saying something, your brain struggling to piece his noises together into words.

“Can I have your hand?” You hum, scrambling to extract your hand from his leg. “I just- I need,” he opens and closes his hands, “something.” When you hold your hand up blindly toward him, he takes it quickly and holds on tight, fingers lacing together with yours. He gives a few tugs, and you hurry to sit up.

“Please, I need- I can’t take it anymore.” He looks frantic, eyebrows pinched together and his chest heaving with ragged, shaky breaths. His hips buck wildly, quick and shallow into your curled fingers. You realize you’ve forgotten to keep moving as you were watching him, and you quickly correct your mistake, reveling in the shiver that racks through him as your thumb swipes over his tip.

He’s begging now, your name falling out in pieces between gasps and cries; he’s still tugging at your hand like you can’t get close enough, pressing his lips to your jaw like he can’t quite remember how to leave kisses there. He pitches his hips up and presses against you, knees coming together to press into your sides, pinning your hand against your torso as he lets out a final shuddering whimper.

He comes across your fingers, his whole body tense as he holds himself up, back arched and head rolled to the side. He moves to wrap his arms around you, forgetting that his elbow is supporting him, and he pulls you down with him as he falls the short distance to the mattress.

You do your best to roll off him without letting go of him during the aftershocks, but you’re not exactly paying attention to where you’re still holding, and he yelps again from the overstimulation. You yank your hand away with half an apology, smoothing your hand up his side as you lift yourself up on your other arm.

“Nono, wait, don’t-” He scrambles to grab you wherever he can, and you intercept him before he can smack you across the face.

“It’s okay, ‘Taka, s’okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t wanna crush you. Let’s sit up so you can get some water, alright? All that noise can really make your throat sore, I know.” You slip your hands under him, one at the small of his back and one between his shoulders, gently lifting him toward the headboard. “That’s it. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

Once he’s upright, a glass of water in two shaky hands, you lean over the side of the bed to fumble for a washcloth. When he doesn’t slow down on his own, you start to reach for the glass, but he pulls away for a big gulp of air before you can.

“How you feelin’?”

He doesn’t answer right away, leaving you to fidget with the cloth, slowly reaching for his thigh. He lets his eyes slide closed as you start to wipe him off, smoothing an apologetic thumb over his hip when he hisses from the sensitivity. You wipe your hand on a mostly clean corner before you chuck it in the general direction of the hamper, silently relieved when it makes it in.

“I think I died.” His hands are still shaking as he goes to set the glass on your nightstand, and you gingerly take it from him, lifting yourself up to set it on the far corner where neither of you can accidentally knock it off later. “I understand you now.”

“You didn’t die, I promise.” You allow yourself a smirk and pull a blanket up from the end of the bed. “That’s high praise, though.”

“You’re high praise.”

“You’re the one that liked it so much.”

He rolls his eyes, too tired to argue. As you pull yourself up the bed to sit beside him, he leans over, one hand sliding behind you to rest on your hip. Now that he doesn’t have the distraction of everything else, you can tell he’s starting to think, because his ears are tinting pink and he’s fidgeting with a string on the edge of the blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to oblige.”

You scoop his hand into yours, leaving the blanket’s seams to live another day, and examine the bite mark on his wrist.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you turn his arm over. “The hell was I thinking?”

“Obviously you weren’t, which is both the point and very hot, so hush.” He turns away stubbornly, but he looks pleased. “You could probably say a spirit did it. Biting seems like an evil ghost thing to do, right?”

“With clearly human teeth?”

“Maybe it… stole them?”

He laughs, pulling away from your grip to get comfortable against your side. Just as you start to drift off, soothed by the sound of his breathing slowing and his weight settling on you as he relaxes, you feel his fingers walking down your hip, making their way to your thigh. You crack one eye open, and he looks away with obviously fake innocence.

“Where you going with that hand, darling?”

He smiles, bright and daring, as his fingers dig in. “Your turn?”

You consider it. You’re not quite capable of fully ignoring how turned on seeing him like this has made you. There’s a bit of nervous energy, buzzing over what’s left of your hangover, excitement, the joy that bubbles up in your chest at seeing him smiling at you like that, everything coming together in an overwhelming, swirling feeling of wanting whatever he will give you. But there’s something else, a calm undercurrent to it all, coating the emotion in quiet and directing it all back to a single point, solid and unwavering and right .

More than anything, you are content.

He sees your expression and laughs, must know what you’re going to say the moment you decide, because he mouths the words along with you as he pulls his hand back up to your hip.

“Maybe next time.”

[beneathsilverstars]

It's hard, taking care of a kid when you're still growing up yourself, but Pétronille does her best. She's not sure it's good enough, but what else can she do? A series of scenes following Pétronille and Bonnie, from the first time they ran away to the second.

Rating: Teen and Up Category: Gen Characters: Pétronille, Bonnie Tags: POV Second Person, Minor Original Character(s), Specifically various citizens of Bambouche, Child Neglect, Child Abuse, Bipolar Pétronille, Suicidal Thoughts, breaking the cycle, kitchen mishaps, Shoes both remembered and forgotten, Drowning imagery, Bonnie's protectee guilt, Bonnie's A+ spelling Words: 10,541

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends :) happy wednesday, hope you are well! happiest of birthdays to my babygirl Alex Claremont-Diaz, love you endlessly my beautiful big brained bisexual disaster with a heart of gold

thank you to @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @bigassbowlingballhead @leojfitz @ships-to-sail @suseagull04 @dragonflylady77 @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @priincebutt @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @duchessdepolignaca03 @saturntheday @itsmaybitheway @captainjunglegym @indestructibleheart @oxfordslutphase @tailsbeth-writes for the tags this week and on sunday :)

here's a snip from a tiny spy au coming this week if i can wrangle these men into submission:

“I'm serious, Alex. No theatrics. Certainly no blood. What's the code for trouble?” “Barracuda.” Henry clicks his tongue. “Too many syllables for my taste.” “Your name is too many syllables for my taste, yet you don't see me complaining.” “Touché.” He grasps Alex's shoulder, taking a long look into Alex's eyes. Henry's body is serene, but his eyes are always his tell for Alex. They're cloudy, tense; murky waters. “Be careful, please. We both know how dangerous these men are. Manu is unpredictable, even as the mafia equivalent of a middle manager.” “Aw, worried about me, sweetheart?” Alex grins, but it's a little unsteady, faltering at the edges. “Henry. This is easy. And if I’m lucky, no dicks will have to come out.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He really, really doesn’t want any dicks out this time. “See you in five, okay?” He squeezes Henry's arm, then slips out of the supply closet. Back to work.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags below the cut and open tag as always <3 tag me if you use :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @getmehighonmagic @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @14carrotghoul @rmd-writes @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @porcelainmortal @kj-bee @nontoxic-writes

[yyawnjun]

5.33am SUNGHOON [ 성훈 ]

a.n: it was supposed to be a short one-shot for my jealous!enha boys series…I don't know how a 1.6k wc one came out…and I don't think it's right for the series but it was so cool to write it😭

anyway...please let me know your opinions and hcs !! comments, like and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. I hope y'all will like it ♡

fluff!! ; hoon being hoon ; a creepy man appears but nothing serious happens ; sign a petition for yn and hoon to say OUT LOUD what they think

Since you had to catch the bus at 5.30 am to visit your family, you did get up at 4.55 am as planned. Your mother's birthday fell on the day you moved away from your hometown two months ago, so you decided to surprise her.

You were lucky to discover a low bus ticket that would have taken you there in just five hours. Everything was unplanned; you bought it the day before and quickly packed your things into a small but comfortable rucksack. 

It was 5.10 am, and you were leaving the house. Your apartment was only 10 mins by foot to the bus station, so you did not rush. There was none around except for an old lady walking on the opposite side of the road and a few cars. Some birds were already awake, and the sun was rising, it was when almost everyone was still asleep or slowly people were getting up to start their day. A new day was about to start for everyone, your heart was light, and you were happy.

You were lost in your thoughts that you did not realize that you stopped yourself while looking at the clouds in the sky. You come back to the world only when a boy runner next to you screaming: "HE'S GONNA KILL ME IF I MISS THIS BUS TOOOO"

You did not even check the time; you started to run too. Because actually, your "natural clock" understood that you were late.

Indeed, when you arrived at the station, you looked at your phone which showed 5.33 am.

You missed your bus...and you could not even say it to anyone, because it was a surprise. Discouraged, you went to the ticket office to see if to buy a ticket for the next bus that would be passing in just an hour.

It was summer, so the natural light was already there, but still a bit of fear there was because you were alone, but it was replaced by laughter when you saw the boy, who had run earlier near to you, on his knees in front of the man in the ticket office begging him to find him a bus that would arrive there before an hour.

He was so funny while literally kneeling for a bus ticket at 5.35am. The man looked so annoyed, but after a good five minutes, his prayers worked. 

Indeed there was a special bus - the number 5 - that only for that day was active, and that would arrive in 33 minutes.

You never thought you could see someone's mood change so quickly; he would have hugged the man if there was no glass separating them. Happier than ever, the boy buys his ticket and turns to go to wait for the bus. That's when he notices you and guesses - from your amused expression - that you had seen the scene.

After a quick nod and a thinly veiled smile, he walks past you and goes to wait for the bus.

It was thanks to him that you found out about bus number 5, which was also perfect for you. So you immediately bought your ticket and went to wait patiently for the bus.

As you expected, you met the boy there again. He was seated on the only bench there, where you would soon be joining him. 

You greeted each other with a simple smile and head nod; by this point, you were companion victims of misfortune on that summer morning.

So you sat, put your earphones on, and waited while looking around and letting your thoughts run free. 

You could tell that he kinda did the same because after 15 mins you felt something - or better, someone - graving on your shoulder.

Yes, the bus would arrive in 33 minutes at 6:08 a.m., but the funny boy only after 15 mins of waiting falls on your shoulder.

You were a bit hesitant to wake him up because he looked so peaceful while sleeping.

He had closed eyes and a steady breathing pattern, and his lips and his cheeks were flushed pink. His dark black hair and eyebrows created a contrast with his pale skin and total-white outfit.

A mole on his note distinguished him, and knowing the legend of moles - it says they are said to be the place where, in another life, your soulmate loved to kiss you - you smiled.  When you had to gently touch him to wake him awake because the bus had arrived, you blushed a little more.

Oh yes, 18 minutes passed after he had dozed off on your shoulder...

You quickly got on the bus after waking him up, and he immediately boarded behind you after mumbling an awkward thank you.

The bus was so full of men at that hour, and most of them seemed to be surprised by your arrival.

You did not feel comfortable at all, but you decided to ignore everyone turning up the volume of your music and sitting in the only empty place. Luckily none was sitting next to you, you were safe you thought. 

However, you started to feel truly scared when you noticed a man, who must have been in his 50s, standing up and walking toward you.

As fate would have it, the clumsy boy, your company of misfortune also saw, and he immediately sat down in the seat next to yours. At that moment your music stopped, and you heart lost a few beats.

"Not gonna lie, that man creeped me out too. Hope it is okay if I sat next to you; I would never leave a pretty girl alone with someone like him" he whispered while still looking at that man with dead eyes.

Your eyes brightened in response to his words, and you thanked him. 

"Young boy leave that seat and let me sit next to the beautiful girl." Just hearing those words was enough to send shivers down your spine.

Instinctively, you reached for the boy's shirt hoping he would not leave you with that old man.

He wasn't going to let go, on the contrary, he said:

"She's my girlfriend, you'd better stop bothering her."

Your heart began to beat faster and faster, adrenaline and anxiety were invading your heart, and you felt helpless.

"Oh sure. I bet you just met her. Why such a beautiful girl should be with someone like you. Hmm? What do you say?" the man asked, turning to you.

He was about to answer back but you anticipated him by saying.

"You better shut up before I call the police. Leave me and my boyfriend alone.. and I don't need me to explain to you idiot why I am dating this handsome boy."

Now is the boy's heart that was beating fast. 

"The bus is moving. A message to the man who is bothering the girl. You had better sit down before you falls and the police have to meet you at the hospital instead of the next stop" 

The driver's voice was heard everywhere, and the timing almost scared you. 

Someone had also called the police, and the man would have been reported soon.

Even though you were safe at this point, your heart continued to race since so much had happened so quickly.

You eventually turned to look at the boy who helped you after the grumbling man had moved away from you.

"Thank you so so much. You saved me," you said, but he was not looking at you-

He was glancing down at the bottoms of his shoes while his hands were covering his face.

"Is everything alright? Are you okay?" you asked worried.

And he finally turned to you almost screaming

"SO WAIT DO YOU REALLY THINK I AM HANDSOME?"

But he quickly tried to ignore your confused expression as he attempted to regain his calm and added, "It's nothing; I acted on instinct. I couldn't bear that creepy man would sit next to you. Hope you are okay now"

He wanted to finish his sentence with "pretty girl" because he truly meant it. Although it could have worried you, he chose not to.

Even though you too really meant what you had said - that he was a beautiful guy - you preferred to ignore his question too.

"I'm fine thanks, and nice to meet my name is Y/n."

"Park Sunghoon. My name is Park Sunghoon, nice to meet you" 

"Well Park Sunghoon if you also have to get off at the last stop, I guess we have a long journey ahead of us," 

"Yes y/n, but I think that by staying right next to you, the time will pass more quickly," he replied without thinking.

You nodded in agreement as you internally chuckled at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth. 

He was very kind and easy to talk to since you discovered that you had a lot of things in common - for example he too was going to the surprise party of a friend of his in the same city as you.

While talking you find out that you enjoy the same singers and songs, and that is how you ended up sharing your earphones while your playlist was playing.

Sunghoon however, fell asleep off again and let his head fall forward when the softer section of your songs began to play.

Oh, and the reason you gently shifted his head to your shoulder was for no other reason than to make him more comfortable…right?

serie> hee ; hoon ; jay ; jake ; sunoo ; jgwon ; niki

[chronicowboy]

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) | 22k

"Do you have any idea what its like telling him his Buck is hurt?"

"Yes," Buck growls out, voice sharp as the knives embedded in Eddie's chest. "Yeah, Eddie, I really fucking do because I was the one that had to tell him that you'd been shot."

Eddie laughs. Its a broken sound, animalistic and rough and sounding only like a laugh echoing halfway across the galaxy. A wet laugh, edges razor sharp with bitter irony, corners like spears of desperate loneliness. He wants to grab Buck by the face and make him understand. Make him understand that the comparison of those situations is an admission of Buck's place in Christopher's life. Make him understand what Buck has never quite been able to grasp fully.

"Once," Eddie says instead. "Once. Imagine doing that five times within the last six months. Over and over and over. Watching his little face crumple like that first time when we didn't know if you'd ever wake up, listening to him begging to see you even if you've already been sent home because he doesn't quite believe that you aren't gonna disappear like his mom." Its too much, too much all at once, and Buck's mouth falls open like he hadn't been expecting it. A chink in his armour. Eddie exploits it. "He's terrified, Buck. And you just keeping throwing yourself into danger like he doesn't care about you."

"I know he cares," Buck argues hoarsely.

"Do you?" Eddie pushes, eyes dropping to the tense line of Buck's shoulders. "Do you? Because I think that if you did, if you knew just how much he cared, you wouldn't be ignoring harnesses and risking your life for a Walmart bunny."

"You know as well as I do that toys mean a lot to kids—"

"They're valuable, yes," Eddie concedes. "But not at the cost of a life, Buck." Not your life. "Does Christopher even cross your mind when you free climb down a cliff?"

"Of course he does!" Buck clenches his hands in the pillow he drags into his lap, unable to do anything else to purge his anger. "It was a little boy I was climbing down for, Eddie! You don't think I was thinking of Christopher?"

"I don't think you were thinking of him in the right way," Eddie snaps, pushing himself up from the armchair and pacing the floor in front of the coffee table.

"And how should I have been thinking of him, Eddie?" Buck's voice turns cold and emotionless in a way that sends a shudder down his spine. "In terms and conditions? In legal fine print? In the event of your death? Is that how I should have been thinking of him? As his back-up plan?"

"Back-up plan?" Eddie stares down at him incredulously, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

(OR: buck gets reckless, eddie gets angry, they talk in all the wrong ways, and the universe decides to intervene) [AKA The Angst Fic/season seven divorce era 2.0 fic]

@danielsousa @diazly @gracelcdomas @diazass @rogue205 @alyxmastershipper @pinky-promisesss @evanbucklxy @buddiearemydads @youraveragebookwhore @kenneth-black @poughkeepsies @littlechaosgremlin @krispold @scarcrossedbuck @thisyearsloveisnow @shortsighted-owl @ebdaydreamer @mellaithwen @littlebunnyz @shipping2survive @wallpaper-inside-my-heart @theroguetranslator @thebestbooksaround @i-am-a-mess24-7 @disasterpans @cowboy-buck @violet-rot @angstydiaz @livingonzenstreet @chiefcolorathletetoad

[virune]

scourge never believed that he could be happy.

after all, fate hadn't exactly been cordial with him. growing up without a mother, and also without a father, in some ways - not physically, but lacking the warmth and closeness he yearned for as his father ruled over the land, scourge had grown up deciding that he was worthless. that he was nothing.

this nothingness festered inside him. from young, quilling hoglet to scarred and snaggletoothed adult, fate had told him that he was nothing more than the villain, the evil counterpart to some perfect, adored hero, and scourge played the role, for he thought himself undeserving of anything else.

it was when he met mighty, then, that suddenly his fate seemed so strange, so questionable in its certainty, that scourge began to doubt. began to question. they did not get along at first - understandably so, as mighty was one of the good guys; not like scourge, who was a brute, a thug, a bad guy. but he could not stop his thoughts. could not temper his newfound attraction to someone so hopelessly unattainable to him that it hurt.

scourge ruminated far too many times on the way his reality had shifted since that day. when everything had seemed so sure, so set in place for him, the actor on his stage, the king on his throne, that the moment the curtains were drawn and his identity cast askew that scourge felt lost. directionless. fateless.

what was he to do, then? suddenly, giving in to his broken spirit and falling into the motions of a villain were no longer appealing. suddenly, his broken spirit had started to piece itself back together, somehow, when he wasn't paying attention. when all of his attention was on mighty.

so he stopped. stopped hurting, stopped conniving. stopped acting. he didn't want this life anymore. fate be damned. scourge wanted something else for himself. he wanted what the heroes had; trust, respect, acceptance. affection.

he was lonely. he wanted affection.

it didn't happen all at once, of course - it took time for him to convince the hero that he wanted something better for himself. wanted to be better. sonic wasn't immediately convinced, but if scourge knew anything about sonic, and he should, since they were two sides of the same coin, then he knew that sonic would give him a chance. even sonic's greatest enemy had gotten that.

scourge tried. tried the best he could. he wasn't used to it, this new way of life, but he tried. he knew he wouldn't flourish the way he wanted if he stayed where he was, so he left. inconspicuously, when everybody's backs were turned, he swiped the warp ring he needed and ran away to the prime dimension. he looked for mighty.

mighty was a pacifist, scourge had learned. stronger than anyone he'd ever met, but didn't like to fight. a year ago, scourge wouldn't have been able to understand it, but now he had a lot of respect for a guy who stuck to his principles. after all, scourge did that once, too. except his own principles didn't fit him. not really. his own principles had been like thorns digging into his skin, and he'd been running around like that was perfectly acceptable.

not anymore. scourge was ready to rip out those thorns and begin to heal.

[daylightisviolent]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Richie Lipschitz & Paul Matthews, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins (Mentioned), Ruth Fleming & Richie Lipschitz & Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy Characters: Richie Lipschitz, Paul Matthews, Emma Perkins (Mentioned), Daniel | Stopwatch (Mentioned), Ruth Fleming (mentioned), Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy (mentioned) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Wings, Wingfic, HELLO I AM BACK WITH MORE WING RELATED SHENANIGANS, Paul Matthews is Richie and Daniel's uncle, Richie Lipschitz and Daniel | Stopwatch are brothers, Paul Matthews and Emma Perkins are dating, Paul as Richie and Daniel's legal guardian, Everyone in the Matthews-Lipschitz family has wings, Richie befriends Pete and Ruth and tells them about his wings after 2 hours of knowing em, Serious conversations follow, Autistic Richie Lipschitz, Richie is 10 years old and Daniel is 8 years old, Written from Richie's perspective Series: Part 2 of Wings AU Summary:

Richie is ten years old when his uncle sits him down for an important talk.

Sooooo that second part to the wingfic au I was talking about? Here it is. Enjoy <3

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

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

Gift Details ♥ Reader: AFAB!reader Character: Kaku Kink: #3 "Spanking" Prompt: #19 "My, what a collection of toys you have." Gift Giver: @stephisokay

Summary: After a few dates and plenty of conversation, you finally muster the courage to show Kaku your impressive collection of sex toys. Instead of being overwhelmed by your kinks, he dives in, and you learn quickly that the boy-next-door dock worker has many devious layers.

Content Notes: fem-gendered pet names, dirty talk, bondage, prolific use of toys, anal fingering, little humiliation, spanking

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

The sharp crack of his hand against your ass cuts through the air, followed closely by your gasp and grunt. Your feet kicked up a little at the sensation, but you can’t go anywhere. You squirm and let out a soft moan as the sting turns into a pleasurable tingle.

Your knees were tied together, and the simple rope harness crossed your chest, holding you parallel to the bed. Naked, blindfolded, and trussed up, you could only hear as Kaku walked around your room.

You’d gone on a few dates with him, and had hours and hours of conversation between you when you finally decided to admit to him that you had a few… dozen… kinks. Fortunately, for both of you it seemed, the news didn’t send him running for the docks.

You could hear the shuffle of toys, the soft clink of metal and the amused hums coming from him as he sorted through another box.

“Oh, this looks promising.” He says, as though he’s choosing a book, and not some lewd sex toy. There’s a snap of latex and a cold dribble of lube against the small of your back that makes your body twitch. He chuckles as you try not to squirm too much. “Sorry, it’s a little cold.”

“It is,” you admit in a breathy voice that tumbles into a moan as a lubed finger pushes into your ass. “Hnngh! Ah, pl-please, that’s embarrassing!”

“Given the noises you’re making, you like being embarrassed.” He teases, using more lube and pushing in a second finger. You can feel the cold liquid spill past your already wet folds and slip down your thighs.

Your toes curl and you gasp with pleasure as he loosens you up.

“Mmm, I’m going to bury myself in you soon enough, but right now tonight’s about punishing you.” He says jovially, smacking your ass sharply as he pulls his fingers out. His voice drops low, and you feel a shiver down your spine. “How dare you keep such an impressive collection of toys a secret.”

“E-everyone always,” you start to explain.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Kaku shushes you gently pressing something hard and wet against your ass. “The why isn’t important right now.” He assures you, pushing the toy in. “The only thing I’m concerned about is how many of these I can use on you at once.”

He works the hard, tiered toy into your ass slowly, praising you with the same happy tone he uses when he’s talking to people at the docks. Once he has it in, he smacks your ass sharply, the thin layer of lube making the sting a little harsher than before. Your arms twist and your fingers flex at the sensation, your body struggling in the ropes that are keeping you in place.

You really, really should not have been surprised that Kaku was good at using rope.

You feel a squishier toy press against your lips.

“Open up.” He prompts, and you do – automatically licking the presented toy without further instruction, opening your mouth as he slides it along your tongue. “Geez, you really are a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

The way he says it has more of effect on you than what he’s saying, but you hum in the affirmative in response. Kaku pulls the toy out of your mouth, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling your head up a little roughly.

“Say it clearly.” He chides.

“I’m a… dirty little girl.”

“Oh, just anyone’s?”

You shake your head. “I’m y-your dirty little g-girl. Just… just yours.”

“Good.” He praises you again, “Open up, it’s not nearly wet enough.”

You do your best, taking in as much of the toy as you can. You don’t need to see it to know it’s one of the larger dildos you have. A bendy material with vibrators built inside it. You didn’t say anything, but you were pretty sure at this point it was going to go in easily.

You had felt yourself getting wet simply because he smiled when you showed him your toy collection in the first place. Having him stay, strip you, and tie you up had you nearly ready to cum right then and there. The first slap against your ass almost sent you over the edge.

He pulls it from your mouth, leaving your drool to drip on the bed below you as he moves behind you. You grunt a little as he pushes the toy in your ass back into place before he spreads your pussy lips and starts lining up the toy with your wet hole.

“You are just delighted by this!” He nearly laughs. “Absolutely delicious.” He pushes the toy into your cunt in one smooth motion, holding it and the butt plug in place with one hand as he switches the vibrations on.

You buck despite your best efforts and Kaku smacks your ass sharply. “Settle.” He admonishes, but the act of the smack is enough to make you squirm harder for a second and by the time you get yourself under control your ass stings from the series of smacks that followed.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” Kaku teases. “Keep those in, don’t you dare let them fall out little poppet.”

Trying to hold the toys in almost seemed to be the fastest way to accidentally push them out, so instead you brought your feet up with some effort, pressing them against the bases of the toys as best as you could manage.

“Smart thinking.” He muses. “Not how I’d meant for you to do that, but I didn’t say you couldn’t use your feet. Oh, this is good.”

You feel the warmth of him in front of you as he reaches out and attaches a little suction cup to your nipple. The soft bristle inside tickles your nipple and you whimper.

“Kaku, please…. It’s going to be too much.” You beg, unable to move away as he attaches a second one to the other nipple.

“Nonsense, these are just a few of the many toys you own, my sweet.” He insists, kissing your cheek. “Certainly, as the one who bought them all, you’ve used them all.”

“Not-not all at once!” You cry as the little bristles come to life, teasing the hardening and sensitive flesh on your chest.

“Oh pish-posh, I’m not going to use all of them.” He chuckles. “Not tonight anyway.”

You whimper in response, and Kaku cups your face with his hand, tilting your head up gently and kissing you sweetly. The soft kiss becomes more forceful, and he pushes his tongue into your mouth, addling your over stimulated mind a little further. You still couldn’t believe someone who looked so innocent could kiss so well.

“Haa, please,” you beg as the kiss breaks. “Kaku, please. Mercy.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he kisses your forehead. “Certainly.” He says, standing up from the bed and stepping back around behind you. “I’ll bring you relief.”

There’s a click and a vibrating sound that’s not from anything inside you as Kaku brings your feet down.

“Cum for me, my dirty little poppet.” He says in a voice dangerous and low as he presses a powerful vibrator against your clit, holding your body so that no amount of squirming can lessen the sensations being pushed into you.

The ropes groan as you twist and buck, shoulders and legs moving as Kaku holds your hips perfectly still. The rush of pleasure almost hurts, but the first crash of pleasure rips a nearly soundless orgasm from you as your body goes taut.

“That’s one,” he says with a smile, smacking your ass sharply before holding you in place again. “Let’s see which lasts longer, hm? You, or the battery in this?”

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