#idk still workin on that part

[mochasucculent]

POV you're a weird bug

[shoezuki]

group project update: i have not witnessed either of my group members even open the document since we talked about it in person after class. i dont even know if either of them are doing anything. and it is kinda ass cuz the section i ended up doin is the last bit and im sposed to be making graphs and analyzing the data They are sposed to be workin on. im dying

on the bright side i spent hours last night figuring out how to make some very sexy graphs

[muttsandmustelidae]

i feel like the way ‘dogtok’/‘dogstagram’ talks about reactivity makes reactive dog owners feel a lot more ashamed than they ought to

[sen-ya]

do you have X/Twitter or something else where you post your comics and doodles?

I do not! I’m accidentally averse to social media these days. I used to use instagram but fell off of it at least 6 months ago 🙈 I know there’s Good Shit on twitter but I’ve never used it and I am………..lazy I am sorry

[spotsupstuff]

Would you ever make a comic series based off your rainworld au or anything else?

i mean i already am doin comics on it and stuff, i don't know if i'd like to like... try to stick to a strict timeline when it comes to making them. i like the looseness (/lack of commitment) that comes with making what comics i want to make whenever i like or as prompted by a question

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[forpsheturnpesbian]

Baby they’re gonna clown mee

Word count: 900+

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

AN: this took me WAYY too long to finish sorry abt that anon, hopefully I did this ask justice love yall.

Its a random tuesday when Azzi decides to say “fuck it” and post a draft dump.

And in that very moment Paige doesn’t think much about the reasoning behind her phone buzzing, so she picks it up without too much thought.

Till she ends up a little shell-shocked by the fact that the girl who’s barely on socials, posted? again? For the fourth time in the past two weeks?

“Damn mackenzie workin overtime” she thinks logically rare occasion that mackenzie probably posted a few more things for azzi

“Damn..” she mutters, already stuck trailing over the first photo, now all of a sudden very grateful.

She takes a quick breather and checks the time with her peripheral, “pretty late, Azzi prolly posted this” she thinks then moves on to the next slide.

She sees herself on it. And even with her back turned toward the camera she knows in that moment azzi is all she sees. Hovering over her—as if looking over her long enough would cause her to never leave her sight, even after tonight, like a moment that won't ever end and won’t ever fade—she catches herself doing it more and more nowadays.

Cause back then she didn’t need to, back then she had the luxury of seeing her damn near every single day, but now? Paige will have to earn the essentials, and learn how to spot the speckle of peace buried within the chaos, and to steal it for moments like that. Then she thinks- no she knows—that if she could, she’d steal all the time in the world for azzi.

Then she shrugs herself out of the rabbit-hole she dug herself into, moving on to the next slide- and oh dear god she’s already writing the thank you letter to whoever built the camera, sold the camera, distributed the camera, and captured the picture in all its flawless glory. She finishes the letter in her head by the fourth slide

Then her eyes hit the 5th slide.. That time she absolutely didn’t catch herself staring at her chest.

And just to add insult to injury Paige was clearly gripping her knee at some odd attempt of regaining composure.

Not a minute later azzi’s phone is basically yelling at her to answer, and she does. What she didn’t expect to hear on the other line was:

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Paige asks tone slightly frantic

“what the helly..? Did I do that right?”

Azzi questions still oblivious as to why Paige was calling in the first place

“Imma just ignore u said that and move on to more important things, like idk the dump. WHYY-”

She says rubbing a hand down her face

“What you don’t like it?”

Azzi says barely concealing her amusement

“BABY I LOOKED LIKE A 14 YEAR OLD BOY THAT'S NEVER EVEN SEEN BOOBS BEFORE ” she says all in one breath then proceeds to look at her ceiling her mouth tilting downwards—wallowing in her own self pity.

“I mean you-“ azzi (smirking) manages to get out before Paige cuts her off

“BRO I'M BEGGIN YOU DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE”

“This is it now huh? This is my life now—never leaving this room, I'll just live off of doordash.” The guard says, staring blankly at an empty wall. Then squinting suspiciously at azzi hiding her face

“ARE U LAUGHING AT ME RN?!?!?” Paige say appalled

Azzi sucks in her teeth “No baby, of course not” she says soft and low which seemed to calm paige down a notch.

“Quick question what and why the HELL-“

“The people need to know you think I look hot”

azzi says like it's the most obvious thing in the world—as if she was stating grass were green

“And so they can keep it cute”

“So that every girl in Dallas who even thinks about trying anything knows who came first”

azzi says it like it is—Simple.

While Paige lies there, staring at her through the screen, equal parts dumbfounded and completely-utterly in love.

Before she snaps out of it and remembers she’s supposed to be mad right now.

“God forbid I want to keep the little dignity I have left.” Paige Mutters with a hint of amusement

“Eh it's not that bad-”

“That's easy for you to say, YOU’RE NOT THE ONE GETTING SIMP ALLEGATIONS.”

“Aren’t they just fact checked statements at this point?”

“Baby they’re gonna clown mee” Paige practically whines

And Azzi tries— like really, really tries not to let it slip that she’s absolutely laughing her ass off in her head, while paige is mentally preparing herself for the mental warfare that is being teased by not only the people you love the most, but everyone with a pair of functioning eyes and ears.

“No they won’t” and even azzi doesn’t believe herself the second she says it, while paige just stares at her for a moment with a knowing look.

“Be so fr rn” the same expression on her face and running a hand through her forehead

“I mean you did give them the fuel” azzi says on the verge of snorting

“WHAT?!? BRO ME??”

“You were the one looking weren’t you?”

“GOODNIGHT.”

“Goodnight I love you” she says—still a bit of amusement left in her tone and a chuckle at the end, but still like each letter was wrapped in a warm blanket.

“I love you more” P says after letting out the longest sigh of her life, but says it with every bit of sincerity left in her nonetheless, she smiles a dopey “only for azzi smile”

[witchywcmans]

AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car. 

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked. 

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand. 

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller. 

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him. 

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose. 

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this. 

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

[tiredthing-idk]

YAYAYAY. Hihiiiihihijii i love you sososososso much tooooo!!!! <333333. Tis alr !!!! Not your fault dw dw dw i get itttttt. Kkkkkkkkk yayayayayay take your time!!!! So far found out/happened where. Previous main(???). Guy is actually two apparently? No idea if that was. True before and split after Or if it only was realized recently but uh. Yay??? (Only. Figured that ouy because apparently second side of is. A CjaracterTM) othwrwide uhhh. Domt totally remenber what the other identity crisises were??? I think onr is that someone in here is possibly a famous skeleton but as we havent absorbed that fandom were Ignoring It. Hhhhhm. Yeah i think?? Thats all three. Idk. We made a brain space ish now finally!! Free from the void front room ish. :33

HELLO DEAREST, HOPE YOUR DOING WELL, CURRENTLY AT. 3 ? IDENTITY CRISISES !!! WHICH IS TO SAY IF WHEN YOU RETURN YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THEM PLEASE ASK, THERE IS A V E R Y GOOD CHANCE ILL FORGET !!!! HOPE YOUR DOING ALRIGHT !!!

(Agony. Agony am in-)

YES I WANNA KNOW !! Also haillo I love you so so much <333 sorry for being gone so long :( gonna finish with tumblr which. Idk how long getting through everything wil take. Then once im done I'll start on discord :D

[fastasyoucant]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ elias ‘stack’ moore | bonded 2.4k.

synopsis. seven years after leaving without a word, elias comes to jackson, mississippi to come see you. and he’s not going to leave you again.

content. nsfw. reader cheats. vampire elias. biting. erm evil elias? idk. manipulation(?) blood mention. n word use. not proofread.

elias was the first man you’d ever been with, he taught you everything you knew. how to fight, scam, and talk slick.

all of that didn’t matter to you. you wanted to be with him. not to be him.

occasionally, he’d come to jackson, just to see you. there were no dates set, he came and went as he pleased.

when he had left for chicago without saying how long he’d be gone, you figured he had moved on.

you decided it’d be for the better to move on too.

you met a nice man, steven, a year older than you. he had a stable job and kind words. you liked him, but he wasn’t elias.

even so, you didn’t need to be offered anything special. not if it comes with the same terms and conditions.

he was supposed to pick you up and drop you off like he does every tuesday night. you kept looking out the window, waiting to see his car or him at least.

you wandered through aisles, pretending to tidy up to kill time.

fifteen minutes went by, still no steven. you were getting worried now, considering that he was rarely this late. you had no way of figuring out where he was, but he could hold his own.

just like you hoped, steven arrived. he knocked on the door rhythmically. it was odd for him to do but you were glad he was safe.

you ran from the aisles to the entrance, grabbing the keys.

“steven! where the hell were y-“

your body ran cold, feeling your hands start to shake.

it was stack.

standing right there in front of you like he never left.

“you still workin’ at yo mamas sto’?”

‘this nigga…’

you thought to yourself. stack really had the nerve to show up on your doorstep.

you didn’t know what to do. should you hit him? scream at him? shut the door in his face?

“elias,” you sighed.

“i know you ain’ standin’ right in front’a me. after not sayin’ a damn word to me for a whole seven years, that’s the first thing you gon say?”

you watched him laugh in your face. stack proved to you that he was the same person he was seven years ago. chicago didn’t change him at all.

“chicago ain’t teach you shit.”

you tried to shut the door but he placed his hand on it. laid his palm flat, pushing it back to keep you from closing it.

“ain’ gon’ let me speak tuh yuh?”

“stack, getcho hand off my momma door.”

“allat chicago bullshit was jus’ temporary. i won’t gon’ leave you forever.”

was he really going to sit there and lie? he must’ve lost his mind somewhere up north.

he let go of the door, reaching for a toothpick in his shirt pocket. he popped it in his mouth, keeping his eyes connected to yours.

elias’s outfit was sleek, expensive. just like how he liked all his clothes. he was charming in them; they were part of his scheme.

“seven years is a mighty long time,” you said, your accent still as thick as he remembered. “smoke still wipin’ yo ass?”

“he won’ doing that—“

“don’t sit here and lie to me, elias. your brother is always watching over you.” you took a breath.

“elijah is a good man, ain’ no doubt about it. but you uprootin’ that fast. don’t show me you know anythin’ about bein’ independent.”

he bit his lip, holding a slick comment that he knew you’d shoot down. it was hard to win with you, when you were right, you were right.

“it was good seeing you, stack.” you closed the door, watching him stand there without trying to fight his way in.

part of you was mad that he didn’t try harder. not that you knew if you’d take him back, even if he had.

you wanted him gone by the time steven came but he was still standing there. he was waiting for you to come back out.

“you need tuh go back on tuh clarksdale or wherever the hell you feel like goin’ for another seven years.”

“why i gotta do that?”

“you gon get arrested for loiterin’.”

“so you gon’ let them take me?”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at the question. you walked right into it. you held back a smile, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave without getting something.

“aye, you still got dem cracker jacks?” elias eyed down one of the shelves in the store.

you looked behind you then back at him.

“if i give you some, will you go on somewhere?”

stack nodded, watching you walk over to grab a small box of candied popcorn.

“you ain’t gon’ let me in?”

“stack, i’m closing— it’s late…”

“jus’ fo’ a few minutes… like old times?” he snatched the toothpick out of his mouth and flicked it to the ground. like he already knew you were going to say yes.

you rubbed your forehead before inviting him in.

“come on… don’t get too comfortable.”

you yanked the door open for him to come in. he followed you in, closing it behind him.

“it still look the same in here.”

“you know my momma ain’t got money for renovations.”

he wandered around while you stayed by the counter, eyes never leaving him. noticing how he towered over shelves just like he had before. you weren’t sure what to make of it. the fact that he left would make anyone blow a fuse, but stack had that effect.

he could shoot you in the toe and have you dance for him the next day.

you tried not to fall into his game but you were only human.

“you still sleep in that back room?” he walked over to the counter, leaning on it beside you.

“sometimes.”

“yo’ momma told you tuh stop?”

“she tells me a lotta things… she said you won’ good for me neither.”

you saw stack look over at you, he looked back down at his hands toying with the popcorn box.

“maybe she was right.”

you finally looked over at stack, finding that he was looking at you again. his eyes were big, begging you to listen to him.

“you left me, elias. you don’t get tuh act like that. you walked away— took what you wanted and left.”

“i thought if i stayed, it’d ruin yuh.”

“so you think picking up and leaving wasn’t going to?” your voice stayed the same, no matter how frustrated he made you.

“all them christmases, all them birthdays… nothing.” you chuckled, wiping the stray tear that you couldn’t keep from welling over. your hand trembled against your cheek, and stack saw. of course he did.

“you think that ain’ kill me? every time i tried tuh forget you… i heard you in my head. i came back fo’ you. it won’ nobody else i wanted to see.”

you weren’t expecting him to say that, but you were glad he did. you also had to take what he said with a grain of salt.

“you gon’ let me make it up to you?” stack said.

you didn’t say anything to him at first. you were trying to see past the pretty clothes and the smooth talk. trying to see if that boy who used to love you like the world was ending was still there.

“you really came back for me?”

“ain’ got no other reason to show my face ‘round jackson.”

you searched his eyes, almost like something was struggling not to break through. you stepped forward, reaching for his face. his cheek rested against the inside of your hand.

he exhaled deeply, huffing out a sigh that he had been holding for a long while. you rubbed your thumb against his face.

you moved closer to him, pulling him in at the same time. you kissed him and he tasted of tobacco and sugar. just like you were used to.

elias’s hands spent no time getting his hands on you. he wasn’t in a rush. he kept his hand resting on the small of your back, preventing the edge of the counter from digging into you.

as the kiss deepened you forgot about steven, he hadn’t shown up yet— and you were too drunk on elias to notice.

he kissed along your neck, taking in your scent. becoming intoxicated along with you. your arms went around his neck to keep him closer.

“you smell so good, baby.” he groaned against your skin. he started to pull your dress up, slow, like he was savoring the moment.

his lips trailed lower, kissing the open area of your chest. your hands went to the counter, tossing your head back. he was taking his time and every touch burned your skin light fire. he kept your dress bunched in his fist, his other hand caressed your heat over the fabric of your panties.

“tryna act like you don’t miss me… you still get wet just like the first time i touched you.”

you ignored him for a moment, hating that he was right. it didn’t take long for him to get your attention as his hand slipped into your panties. he felt how slick you were, slipping two of his fingers inside you. he curled them, watching as you folded forward.

“mhm… i know— ain’t nobody touch you like this… not like i do.” he grunted in your ear, thrusting his fingers into you. your hand flew up to his shoulder, gasping into his mouth when he kissed you again.

your hips rolled against his hand, chasing the climax that was inevitable. your breath caught in your throat as his fingers curled again. your walls tightened around them.

“elias…” you yearned, cupping him through his felt pants.

“i know… turn around f’me.” he murmured, he removed his digits and licked the juices from them.

you turned to face the register, placing your hands back on the cool surface. you felt him hike up the dress around your waist and pull down your briefs. “you alright?”

“yeah…” you whispered, desperate for him to be close to you again. you listened to his belt unbuckling, how fast he was lower his pants.

“spit, baby…” he snaked his hand around to your mouth. you didn’t hesitate, you let it drip into his palm like he asked. he wrapped his fingers around himself right after, stroking before lining himself up with you.

he slid into you slow, making you feel every inch of him like it was a promise. your knees buckled feeling his cock stretch you out. “you still fit me,”

his pace built, like he was trying to carve himself back into your body. the counter creaked beneath you while you gripped the wood.

he fucked you like he was making up for every second he was gone. his rhythm hard and steady, he filled you up good. your low moans echoed through the store.

he leaned down, his chest rested against your back, his handing reaching around to grab your breast. “shit… i forgot how good you feel.”

he slammed into you when he felt you clench around him. you listened to the sound of his groans and the whimpers that managed to slip through the cracks. you weren’t silent yourself, you were making all the pretty sounds that he missed.

“fuck— elias.”

the hand that once cupped your boob, came down and began working your clit as he fucked you. you could barely stay on your feet, buckling under him.

“just like that- right there…” you huffed out, barely leaving space between your words. your walls ached around him, aching to belong to him again.

“i gotchu, baby. you got it— cmon…”

as you felt the heat build up in your abdomen, stack went faster. your vision began to blur as he slowed down, he rolled his hips into you. you shuddered feeling his each vein slid against your inner walls.

you came quicker than the words could come out. your body jolted against the counter, your voice breaking into an aching cry. he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. the grip he had on you turned into bruising as he fucked you through it, chasing his own edge.

then you felt his teeth sink into your neck.

your whole body seized; from pleasure, confusion, and the weight of the situation. your hand came up to brush your neck, you look at the blood dripping off the tips of your fingers.

he sighed satisfactorily, leaving your blood on his mouth. he pulled up his pants, not caring about you helping him finish.

“jus’ needed a lil’ taste.” elias taunted.

your breath shook, panic rose in you. “so you bit me? you fuckin’ bit me?”

“it’s gon’ go away.” he shook his head, his eyes began to glow.

if you didn’t think he was crazy before, you thought so now.

you felt your body to begin to give out. “you need tuh leave. cause i got somebody… somebody comin’ tuh pick me up. he-“

“what he gon’ do? i know it won’t that scrawny ass nigga ridin’ in that cadillac…”

“stack.” you were becoming more disoriented from the bite. it took control over your limbs, causing you to fall down to your knees. you looked disheveled, your panties around your ankles and hair uneven.

but you didn’t ignore what he said, he knew steven. you don’t know how he knew but he did. you stared up at him, his words sinking in.

“cause he ain’ comin’… i saw his memories. that fool should’ve never laid a finger on you…”

you pressed your palm to the floor, trying to lift yourself up but your muscles refused. the bite made you sluggish, dizzy, like your body wasn’t yours anymore.

“i told you… i came back fo’ you. won’t no man gon’ keep you from me.” elias bent down after fixing his belt buckle.

your limbs were water, and your mouth couldn’t form the words fast enough. that didn’t stop you from your protesting. “you think you can waltz up in here, take what you want- markin’ me like a fuckin’ dog.”

“i’m markin’ you cause you mine. ain’t no goin’ back after a bite like that.” he muttered, standing up again.

you attempted to push yourself from the floor again, but the room shifted again. you collapsed to the forward, seeing your blood flow onto the tiles.

your eyes found him one last time.

he stood over you, as if there was nothing wrong about this. like he hadn’t torn your life in two.

you parted your lips to speak, but it was too late; your world was already slipping, being swallowed whole by the dark.

all because you let him back in.

[let-spretend]

hey…. so i’m back to rid of the urge to write a bob x reader ..

i will keep writing until my creative juices run out !!!! second part in the works !!!!

edit: i got rid of the weirdly big spaces but idk if it looks worse now

heavy space between us pt. 1 (bob x reader)

The New Avengers' paperwork lines the communal table, you, diligently filling it out for the team. It had been a bit of a blur the past few months, being thrown into this new team and working together to protect citizens. It gave you a new purpose, rather than the necessary killings you needed to do to protect yourself, you could channel that expertise for the benefit of good and getting paid. But, you were simply getting tired. Physically straining yourself everyday: practicing, training, working out and doing your hero job, it was starting to catch up to you. Though the others have experienced many of the hurt you have, it was difficult to open up to them and you felt yourself lagging behind, despite the Void incident bringing you a bit closer. You were the only one still reluctant to share your past fully to the team. They knew and you knew it as well. Throwing yourself into work helped you feel connected with them in a way, and deserving of this position.

You punch in some numbers into the calculator about some living costs and upcoming expenses that need to be made. Your left hand meets your hair, scratching at it as some stress reliever. It feels warm.

Soft shuffling could be heard to your left, indicating someone approaching the dining area you were occupying. “Y/N?” Bob asks, groggily. You turn to see him rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the half-dimmed lights over the dining table. His hair was disheveled, him still in his simple matching PJ set. You cock your head to the right, wondering why he was awake this early in the morning.

“What’s up?” You say. “Just workin’ on some taxes and other things.” His eyes trail over to the mess of papers and slightly ajar laptop.

“Do you.. want some help?” He asks. His voice was now much clearer, a sign he’d woken up indubitably. He looked hesitant about asking, afraid of being pushed away like he constantly was. But you remember him always wanting and willing to help around the tower. This, being one of the rare things he could actually help with. You honestly didn’t want him to. Not in the sense that he’d slow you down or otherwise, but this extra work and feeling like you were contributing, was all you had right now. You look down at the papers. Still so much left to do.

Though your sense of contentment would be diminished, you realize he was feeling and thinking the same way you do.

“Sure. Come here.” You beckon. His mouth contorts into a content smile and happily takes the seat next to you. “We have to calculate our incomes, health insurance, assets, etc. for our AGI. If we’re eligible, use the IRS’ tax software with my laptop. Sound good?” He nods silently and gets straight to work. You stand up and he looks over to you, assuming you’re going to leave him. His eyebrows knit together a bit, confused. “I’m just going to make coffee for us, don’t worry.” You coolly state.

He gets a bit sheepish, for you having figured him out. So you give him a small smile.

Everything felt a bit fuzzy while you were putting together the coffee. You were sure as soon as you got a sip in you would be fine. You were brewing up a simple Americano for yourself, first putting the hot water into your cup. The sound of the boiled water hitting the bottom of the mug lulls you.

You don’t notice your hand burning until it begins to sting. You peer down to see your left hand directly on the kettle. Slowly removing your hand, the palm appeared red. Huh, I should've instinctively.. “Uh, cold brew, right?” You ask, with uncertainty laced in your guess. You decide to just ignore that mishap. You just need to get the coffee done.

The top of his head becomes his face, his side bangs covering his eyes. He brushes them out his face with his right hand, pencil still in grip.

”Yeah! I’m surprised you remember.” He laughs.

Toward the beginning of the new team formation of “The New Avengerz,” you all had gotten roughed up by some sort of villain attack on the city. Bob had offered to get you all coffee to lighten up the mood. You shrug a tiny bit, remembering that day. He really is just someone nice to have around.

You really didn’t care to measure, lazily filling in the portafilter and locking it into place for your Americano. You peer into the fridge for Bob’s cold brew and sigh. No cold foam.. You were just going to skip it and just serve it to him blank, but his hard-working form makes your body do otherwise. His back slightly hunched, engrossed in working for the team. Sighing again, you take the heavy cream and milk out of the fridge and eyeball their measurements into a cup. Substituting vanilla syrup with some extract, you stir it with a spoon gently. You never said it was going to be good, or even ideal. You mentally faceplant, looking at the almost whipped texture.

Tamping your coffee clumsily, you place it back into the machine once more, starting the shot. Your hand feels as if it were beeping, reminding you of its mild burn. You watch the coffee begin to pour into the cup, lightly splashing as it meets the hot water. The once clear water begins to turn into a soft brown, the aroma of fresh coffee hitting your nose. It smelled like this in the coffee shop Bob took you all to.

“It smells really good, Y/N!” He comments. It brings you out of your trance and reminds you to finish making his drink. You briefly look over to him to acknowledge his comment. Taking out a tall glass, you pour his cold brew and top it with the mildly sweet cold “foam”. It sat with a little curl on the top.

Your espresso was beginning to blond, so you stopped yours and grabbed them both to the table. It stung to even hold the handle to your mug.

“Wow, it looks so good!” Bob says, happily taking the cold brew from you. He takes a second to admire the generous amount of cream. He takes a little sip and widens his eyes to show you it was delicious. “Thank you so much, Y/N.” You try to look at his eyes, but the cold foam on his upper lip distracts you greatly. He looks at your distracted eyes, searching for where your attention was. You could see his face visibly flush from your staring.

“Something on my face?” He stutters. Bob’s left hand reaches for his cheek as he attempts to get rid of whatever you were looking at. Instinctively, your right hand goes to his lip to wipe off the cold foam. His whole body stiffens, his eyes on your hand.

“Got it.” You say.

Looking at your finger, you realize you never got the chance to taste your concoction. Licking the foam off your finger, it was a little on the sweeter side. You didn’t mind it though.

“Haah.. Right. Thank you.” He darts his eyes away, continuing sipping on his drink.

-

Even with the cold brew reinforcement, sleep had won over Bob’s body. There were still a couple more documents that needed to be filled out, but the throbbing in your hand was becoming too much. First, draping a small blanket over Bob’s shoulders, you stroll over to the bathroom. A small medkit was hiding behind the mirror over the sink, where you had last supplied it. Mainly for the others.

The antibiotic ointment felt cool on your hand, contrary to how it felt wrapping it. It was weird. It obviously hurt, but it felt oddly freeing, reminding you why you were still here and serving along with your team. Squeezing your left fulfilled this urge. Not good.

You return to Bob still soundly sleeping on the table. You squeeze your fist a bit. You want to try harder for him, the team. You scootch into the chair as quietly as you could without moving it. He stirs a bit when you shuffle the papers, but remains asleep. The finished papers were in a neat pile, done by Bob. Without him, it would’ve taken you an extra day to finish. The few that littered the table motivated you to keep on going this stretch.

When you finished up, it was about 5 in the morning and the others would soon begin their routines. Wanting to let Bob get a few more hours of sleep in, you carefully lift him up into the air. Your power was to control and manipulate blood. It normally didn’t take so much effort to do so, but a strain was beginning to form in your mind. Despite the nuisance, he continues to float over to his bedroom, landing softly into his bed. You could tell he was in a completely relaxed mood by his palpitations. Feeling the blood coursing through his veins, it signaled his livelihood. Though, he always felt awfully heavy, you assume due to his added void personality.

He snuggles into his familiar bedding subconsciously, you covering his body with his light gray duvet. It was weird. You felt warm again.

“What are you doing?”

You turn around to see Yelena peering into Bob’s room. Rather than her usual suited getup, she was in workout clothes. She made no footsteps, deeply contrasting Bob’s slight drags of feet when he entered the dining room. She must’ve been the reason you felt something was off.

“He was helping with the paperwork. Fell asleep doin’ ‘em.” You say.

Yelena’s reaction seemed as though disappointed but still suspicious, as if she were trying to catch you in an embarrassing act. You never really found these “miscommunications” embarrassing because they simply weren’t true and you stood on that.

“Bucky wanted me to tell you, you have a mission with him and my father in 10 minutes. Sudden reports of a disturbance in the upstate area.” Yelena reports. You nod, thanking her for the heads up. She looks down to your bandaged hand and questions if you were in optimal shape for the sudden mission. “We Powerless need to be in our best condition in order to keep ourselves and others safe.

”Well, it’s not supposed to be urgent or dire, right? I have Bucky and Alexi, don’t worry.” Waving her off. She sighs. You forget you haven’t told or revealed your powers to anyone in the group yet. You hadn’t found the need to, your hand-to-hand being one of your more controlled and trained traits.

With what came with your powers, was self-destruction. Lifting one living person barely needed thought until you straight on stopped using them unless necessary. Where your powers are at their most optimal, was complete exposure and vulnerability - freshly drawn blood. Blood when contained in the body or other containments, means extra weight and concentration. Though you say you can only lift one person now, when you were at your peak, killing, anything conceivable was possible. Your powers came with the need to access fresh blood as much as you could for your benefit. To be cut when you need to. To be willing to.

There was only one person always at your disposal to do so. But it’s not like you really had a choice, was there?

[jesuistrestriste]

Something Something art oral fixation...sucking the strap idk

nsfw 18+ // deepthroating, strap sucking, premature ejaculation

Art had spent the last hour sprawled out on the bed for you, the lubed-up translucent silicone strap being rutted down against his aching cock with each roll of your hips, and now you wanted him to suck on it?

It was absolutely covered in his own precome, for god's sake!

And yet, here he was: kneeling down in front of the edge of the bed, his face between your parted thighs, and his body leaning forward so that he can lick up the length and taste himself on it.

You could never say he didn't do anything for you.

You smile and gaze down at him tenderly, your hand in his hair as he engulfs the tip of the flexible pink dildo in the warmth of his mouth. You moan softly just at the sight and nod to him.

"That's it," you murmur lowly, "s'pretty for me, babe.."

He moans around the thickness filling his mouth, and looks up to you desperately with his lidded blue eyes. His hands move to eagerly hold onto your hips, but you're quick to swat them away and shake your head.

He whines, hollowing his cheeks as saliva pools under his tongue and around the strap.

"No touching, mkay?"

He nods and moves his hands down to his lap, but not without a noise of protest first. His cock is stiff and weeping against his abdomen, but his focus is still on you.

It's always on you.

"Like sucking my cock?" you smirk teasingly, your fingers in his hair working to push his head down a little.

He winces as he feels the back of his throat being prodded and entered, and a stifled gag causes his body to lurch forward before he lets his eyes roll back. He nods again, this time with a muffled groan.

You chuckle and bite your lip as you buck your hips a little, forcing an extra half inch to thrust in and out of his pliable mouth.

He swallows thickly and moans headily, his eyes fluttering shut now as he works to take your strap as far down as he can. He gags again softly, and it roars a fire in your gut.

He's so good; a fucking natural.

If you didn't know any better—i.e., if you didn't know how much of an oral fixation he had, and how many times he's had your fingers in his mouth, or how much he liked to suck and chew and lick on things—you'd think he was just a whore.

But you did know better.

He loves shit like this. It soothes him, like cool water over sizzling coals, but it also gets his dick jumping. It was a win-win for him, and for you.

You remove your touch from Art's blonde curls and smirk as you watch his head begin to bob in earnest, sucking and slobbering all over the silicone with every movement. His idle fingers twitch and squeeze at his own thighs, and he knows that if you allowed him just one touch to himself he would burst almost immediately.

"Mmph—mmm," he moans around you, his eyes blinking back open to look up as he lathes his tongue along the underside of the faux cockhead, like he's really sucking on a part of you; wanting to please you with every fiber of his being, as if you could truly feel the way his hot mouth works over every inch of the rubbery rod that he can take.

Your palms flatten out behind you as you lean back on them and train your eyes to follow the way your boyfriend's mouth makes the inches disappear and reappear with every sloppy motion. Your arousal grows hotter and hotter and hotter as you continue to watch, but you ignore it for now. You had other plans at the forefront.

"Suckin' the strap like a pro, aren't you? Mouth workin' like a pornstar's," you coo and hum sweetly.

He shudders and nods the best he can before he suddenly slides his mouth all the way down to the base of the dildo, his nose pressing into your lower abdomen, and then he just.. holds himself there.

Ever the overachiever, he stays like that for a few long moments.

Art squeezes his eyes shut and his cheeks puff up momentarily with a soft gag. He swallows thickly around the intrusion. Tears begin to prick and fill his eyes from the exertion, but he only swallows once more and whines in response to it; all pretty and high-pitched.

"Fuck," you breathe out, before he pulls himself completely off and splutters as thick strings of drool connect his lips and chin to the top of the bouncing pink length. He gasps for air and coughs, wiping at his chin before he leans in again and rests his cheek on your knee wearily. Art's hips jolt forward against nothing but air as he shivers in his seat on the floor.

You lean in as well now, sitting more upright as you glance down to his cock just in time to read his body's tells.

He's gonna cum.

He pants heavily against your leg before he suddenly seizes up in the next instant and lets out a sharp, strangled cry; almost as if the force and abruptness of his orgasm is taking him wholly by surprise. You moan softly as he shakes, his dick jumping as it squirts out rope after rope of his load into the air and onto his thighs and stomach. Completely untouched.

Your hands come down to gently rub at his trembling upper back as he moans softly and blinks away the wetness threatening to spill down his flushed face.

"Oh my god, baby," you speak gently and sensually, "so hot.. I didn't give you permission yet though.."

He whimpers, bottom lip wobbling, and his hands can no longer be still. He reaches up with hesitant arms and clings to your body.

"Sorry, 'm sorry.. I couldn't help it— couldn't stop it— I tried, babe-" he squirms, his intense climax leaving his brain muddled as he recovers.

A soft sigh escapes your lips and you shake your head.

"It's okay, it's alright.. I'm not mad, just teasing."

He whines softly, fingers digging into the softness of your flesh.

"I can go again," he murmurs weakly, almost slurring, "promise."

And what more could you possibly want to hear?

You smile as a soft chuckle spills forth, and then reach up to card your fingers through his hair as his curls tickle your leg where his head still rests.

"Yeah?"

"Mmh, yeah.."

"Okay.. then why don't you come up on the bed again for me?" you whisper.

He keens weakly and slowly pushes himself up onto his knees, cum dripping down his body, so that he can start to do what you've asked of him.

"Good.. Lean on me, I'll help you," you breathe out, "and then we can have some real fun.."

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[undercovergamer]

✨Thoma’s Troubles✨

Idk why Itto is so low-res bro

⚠️This fic focuses mainly on tickling. Please do not read it if that upsets you.⚠️

Thoma is sad until Itto makes his day better :)

a/n: the word “muzzle” is mentioned, but it refers to the body part of a dog. I’m pretty sure the nose / face area is called that? Nobody is wearing a muzzle, English isn’t my first language. Also, some swears appear.

Word count: 2908

It was a rather gloomy day in Inazuma. The sky was cloudy, the weather was cold, and the air smelt of rain. Most people preferred to stay indoors today, so the streets were emptier than usual. Unfortunately, mother nature wasn’t alone in her sadness; it affected some of the people as well. Especially Thoma…

He let out a sigh after the last customer of the day left Komore Teahouse, relieved to no longer need the customer service mood. He was meant to assist the loyal pooch Taroumaru today, as Ayato had noticed he needed a break from his usual duties.

“Won’t this rain ever end…?” He mumbled, petting Taroumaru’s head to distract himself. He felt grateful for the break, though he still had a lot on his mind.

“Woof!” replied the shiba, his tail wagging as he received pats. The two of them wouldn’t receive customers for a while, so they could just chill.

“Haha, you sure are cheerful today, buddy…” Thoma said with a small smile as the doggo gave his hand a reassuring lick.

“Hm? Ah, it’s nothing, don’t worry about me.” Thoma said, trying to smile in spite of his mood, but he still felt that nagging pain of Sadge™️ in his heart.

“Woof woof!” This clever dog saw right through him, and he was having none of his lies.

“Hey, I’m not-…!” But before the shiba could scold him further for lying, footsteps quickly approached the teahouse’s entrance.

“Hoo! Phew, finally some shelter! C’mon, buddy! Hurry!” The door opened, revealing a slightly drenched Itto with his little bull companion Ushi, both wet from the heavy rain.

“I-Itto?! Oh my! You’re- You’ll catch a cold…!” Thoma exclaimed, surprised to see them entering like that.

“Heh! Oh don’t worry, this is nothin’. Mind if we crash here?” Itto said with confidence, shutting the door once Ushi was in. “I’ve been through worse!” he added with a chuckle.

“L-Let me get you some towels. I’ll be with you in a moment!” Thoma sprung into action right away, leaving the room for a moment while Taromarou went to greet his guests.

“Hahaha! Thanks, man! You’re a real one.” Itto replied, chuckling as Ushi tried to shake himself off. “Hey, hey, be still. Gimmie a sec.” he said, kneeling down to remove the bull’s armor.

“Mooo…” Ushi moo’d with satisfaction, stretching a little before walking towards Taromarou, who had hopped off the counter to play with him.

“Woof woof!” he barked, happily wagging his tail as Ushi replied with another moo.

“Hah! You two sure get along well, huh?” Itto said, chuckling at their cute communication. “Aww, hello, boy! Workin’ hard today, huh? Such a good boy!” He knelt down once more to pet Taromarou, before being “attacked” with puppy kisses.

“Woof woof!” The shiba was happy to see him, licking the oni’s face affectionately, which made him stumble a little.

“Hahaha! Easy there, pal! It tickles.” He said, laughing as he played with Taromarou. “Mooo…” Ushi watched and yawned a bit before he looked around, wondering when the retainer would come back. He preferred to be without chaos for now, wanting to sit beside his master after he’d calmed down.

Meanwhile, Thoma had found the towels, but struggled to leave the room to join the others. He knew they needed to dry themselves, but unfortunately he felt like he couldn’t go back just yet. He knew he should, but the moment he felt tears in his eyes from all the built up sadness, he just wanted to hide. Hearing the fun Itto was having, he didn’t want to spoil it. He knew deep down the oni would understand, being as kind as he was, but he chose to stay to finish crying first.

The playful chaos in the other room lasted for quite a while before the trio realized Thoma hadn’t come back yet. Taromarou had calmed down by then, laying in Itto’s lap with a content expressionon on his widdle face while Ushi huffed to get their attention.

“Hm… hey, shouldn’t Thoma be back now?” Itto asked, petting both animals on their heads.

“Moo.” Ushi agreed, looking to the direction the human had gone.

“Uh-huh… Hey, Taromarou? Wanna earn yourself a treat?” Itto asked with a smile. The shiba perked up and wagged his tail. “Go find Thoma for us, alright?”

“Woof woof!” Taromarou barked with some excitement before he hopped up and sniffed to pick up his master’s scent. He didn’t really need to do this, since he knew where the towels were, but he did it anyway just to be sure.

“Damn it…!” Thoma muttered to himself, wiping his tears away to stop crying. Hearing the door be pushed open by Taromarou startled him, and he almost dropped the towels onto the floor. The loyal dog whined as he walked up to his human, sensing something was wrong.

“Ah-.. what’re you doing here, boy?” Thoma tried to act normal, but couldn’t hide his slightly dampened face from man’s best friend. Taro let out a small growl before barking, basically telling Itto to get over there. “Ah- shh, sshh, don’t-!”

“Woof! Woof woof!” Taromarou huffed and looked at him with big puppy eyes, his tail resting behind him as he felt worried. Thoma was about to say something, but Itto came in just then.

“Aha! You found him! Good boy!” Itto praised, chuckling before he noticed the lack of excitement in the shiba.

“Ah…! S-Sorry for the wait.” Thoma tried to act natural, smiling slightly as he handed a towel to Itto. “You must be cold by now. Please, take this.”

“Ah- thanks, heh!” Itto focused on drying his hair before anything else. He had to be careful not to rip the towel with his horns as he rubbed it against his head.

“Moooo…” Ushi closed his eyes and Thoma knelt down to dry him off. It felt good, he thought.

“There you go, lil- ah, I mean, big guy. Hehe.” Thoma chuckled at his error, but to his dismay started to feel sad again. Emotions are complicated, he thought. He couldn’t hide them from Itto, especially not when knowing he’s so kind and caring. The oni was talking about the weather, but Thoma wasn’t paying attention, trying to control his tears and distract his mind.

“…and it was cold, man! I usually try to brush it off… real men don’t carry umbrellas, I say. I’m starting to reconsider that, though… ugh…” Itto rambled, messing up his hair with the towel as he tried to dry it quickly.

Taromarou whined at Thoma while Itto combed his hair to fix it. The oni glanced at the housekeeper and noticed a sniffle. “Hey…? Are you okay?” he asked.

And that’s when the floodgates opened, of course, at that simple question. He trusted Itto, so his brain was simply wired to let go of his emotions now. He couldn’t say much as he wiped his tears.

“Thoma…” Itto knew Thoma liked hugs, so he sat down next to him on the floor and invited him into one. Ushi wiggled away from the towel to comfort the worrying shiba while the men hugged one another.

“There there, I got you…” Itto comforted, patting the other’s back. Thoma’s cries were mostly sniffles and hiccups. His voice was barely heard. He rested his head against the other, melting into the embrace as he sought comfort. “I’m just so tired…” he said, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

“I get that…” Itto couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen Thoma cry before. It worried him, but he kept focusing on comforting the other. Poor guy, thought Ushi as he stood by and watched, trying to comfort the whining shiba. Thoma calmed down after a while, feeling much better after letting his frustrations out. He wanted to pull away, but simply couldn’t as he rested against Itto, so tired from such a long day.

“You okay?” Itto asked, patting his back as he loosened the hug.

“Mm… it’s been a long day, I guess…” Thoma replied, wiping his eyes again.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s the weather? I mean, it’s pretty shitty today, isn’t it?” he said with a light chuckle, pleased to hear a snicker from the other.

“Heh, yeah. It’s been raining all day. I’ve felt down since I woke up this morning.” Thoma said, sighing. “I guess I got up on the wrong side?”

“Mm, maybe. I know how it feels. It sucks.” Itto replied, adjusting himself as Thoma pulled away.

“Yeah… one thing lead to another, and-… here we are.” Thoma said, hinting as if something else was wrong.

“Mhm? What happened?” Itto gave him a curious look.

“Ah, just… minor inconveniences building up.” He didn’t want to talk about it and hoped Itto wouldn’t pry.

“Ah, dude, I hate when that happens! And it’s always when we’re already upset- THAT’S when our clothes get caught on door handles.” Itto ranted, crossing his arms.

Thoma laughed, and Itto felt glad for that. “It’s true! It really is…!” the pyro wielder agreed, chuckling at Itto’s attitude.

“For real. Ugh!” Itto rolled his eyes before smirking and laughing it off with Thoma. They were still sat on the floor, allowing Taromarou to come cuddle his master.

“Y’know you can tell me anything, right?” Itto asked, patting Ushi who’d come over to join.

“Yeah… I just… I heard some whispers around the estate, and all… I kinda miss Mondstadt, too.” Thoma took a breath and explained as best as he could. Sometimes, certain estate guards were not kind to him. They didn’t think a guy from Mondstadt belonged there, working for such an important family in Inazuma. Their distasteful jabs really stuck with him today, since his mood was already down to begin with.

“It’s not the first time… I’ve already told Master Kamisato about it. Again.” he sighed as he said this, petting Taromarou while he spoke.

“Psh, then you gotta tell them to fuck off! Stand up for yourself, man! Those guards ain’t shit!” Itto said, angry that someone would be so mean to Thoma. He was such a kind soul! He didn’t deserve that!

“Ah, I know… but- well, they’re kinda intimidating, heh…” Thoma chuckled slightly, a bit embarrassed. Ushi huffed in response.

“They’re pussies, actually! What, they can talk smack behind your back, but can’t say it to your face?” Itto questioned.

Thoma chuckled. “They do, sometimes. It’s pretty back-handed.”

“The audacity! Ugh, when I catch them-…” Itto huffed angrily, clenching his fists.

“L-Let’s not escalate anything, okay? I’ll talk to Ayato about it…” Thoma said, smiling nervously.

“You still need to stand up for yourself and tell those guys to buzz off!” he said, now censoring his swears for Thoma’s sake.

“I-… I can’t do that, Itto.”

“Yes you can. Ayato wouldn’t fire you for that, y’know. He’s a chill guy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Those guards just scare me too much…” Thoma frowned and looked away, getting nudged by Taromarou.

“Then scare them back. Tell them the big bad oni will come get them if they don’t stop!” Itto said, grinning with some amusement at his idea.

Thoma chuckled. “Itto, they’d arrest you on sight if I threaten them with that!”

“So what? I’m not going down without a fight!” Itto chuckled too, enjoying their newfound banter.

“And how do you think Ayato would react seeing you beat up his guards?”

“If his guards are asshats, they deserve it.” Itto shrugged. Thoma snickered and started laughing at Itto’s goofy arguments.

“Hahaha…! Oh you’re impossible to reason with~!” he teased.

“Pfft, so are you!” Itto struggled to contain his giggles.

“Touché. Hahahaha..!”

“Hahahahaha!”

Once they had calmed from their shared giggles, Thoma felt the weight on his heart lighten. Taromarou wagged his tail and nuzzled him to comfort further. Thoma giggled at the shiba’s antics, feeling ticklish from the way his muzzle rubbed against his neck.

“Aww~ such a good boy!” Itto cooed, smiling at the cuteness. Ushi agreed, giving a small nod he’d learned from the bipedals around him.

“Pfft~ Hehehey!” Thoma protested half-heartedly as Taromarou excitedly pawed at him, licking his face and wagging his tail. “I-It tickles!” Thoma giggled more as the dog managed to push him over.

“Hahaha! Yeah, get him!” Itto joked playfully, laughing along at the scene.

“Itto, help me~! Hehehehe!” Thoma laughed playfully, putting little effort into escaping.

“Haha, fear not, I’ll help ya out!” Itto said, with a rather devious expression which the housekeeper didn’t see.

“Ahahaha! Hurry!” Thoma laughed as the playful shiba licked his ear, trying to push the doggo away.

“Heheh, do I have to?” Itto took his time, giggling at the scene before scooping up Taromarou and placing him aside.

“Hehe…! Thank you…” Thoma chuckled, about to sit up before he suddenly found himself laughing out loud again as Itto betrayed him, tickling him instead. “WhAAHAHA!! Wahahahahait- nohohohohoho!!” he squealed with surprise, weakly pushing at his tickler’s wrists as he laughed and wiggled.

“Instructions unclear, couldn’t let him have all the fun!” Itto teased, playfully wiggling his fingers all around, gently but quickly tickling the other. Taromarou hopped around playfully as he watched, happy to see and hear Thoma smiling and giggling.

“Ihihittohohoho!! Ahahahahahaha! Plehehehease!” Thoma laughed, not squirming around as much as Itto had hoped he would. The tickly sensation of those nails combining with his shirt’s fabric was simply maddening, yet strangely fun.

“Heheh! You want me to stop?” Itto asked, targetting the other’s sides and ribs for the funnie.

“Ahahahahahaha!! N-Not thehehehere!!” Thoma squealed, his eyes squeezed shut as he laughed and wiggled. Despite how badly it tickled, Thoma didn’t squirm too much, but the teasing made him want to roll away and curl up. Itto snickered, finding him oddly adorable while tickling his tummy, making him laugh and flutter his legs. “Mhm? You want mercy yet?” he asked.

“Ahahahahahaha!! Y-Yehehes, plehehehease!!” Thoma finally pleaded, giggling his head off. He was a really ticklish guy; a fact both Kamisato siblings knew well before Itto found out.

“Hahaha! There ya go~ was that so hard?” Itto teased playfully as he stopped tickling. He reached out to help Thoma, pulling him up to sit.

“Haha… huff… haha… that was mean, you know…” He said, too shy to admit he’d needed it.

“Heh! Ya better keep on smiling now, or the tickle monster might getcha!” Itto joked, laughing at the playful shove he got in response.

“Don’t be so childish! Hahaha…” Thoma joked back, chuckling with amusement. Boy, he sure was lucky Itto had shown up.

“Hahahaha! I’m not being childish, I’m just warning ya.” Itto replied, sticking his tongue out in a playful expression.

“As if, you goof.” Thoma chuckled, feeling a lot better than he did earlier today. He was really glad Itto showed up, relieved to no longer have to cry. “Heh… thanks for cheering me up, though…” he said, a bit sheepish since he’d been tickled.

“Ah, no problem. I’m just glad I could help out!” Itto replied, grinning proudly. “And besides, it was really funny seein’ you giggle like that.”

“Oh, don’t even mention that!” Thoma blurted out, embarrassed by his teasing.

“Heh! Or what? What’re you gonna do ‘bout it?” Itto taunted playfully, giggling at the playful banter.

“Tch.” Thoma had to think of something…

“I’ll just tickle you agai-”

“Taromarou, get him!”

“Wh-What?!”

“Woof woof!” Itto’s confidence was short-lived as the shiba sprang up, wagging his tail as he unleashed his nuzzling attack. Ushi huffed and sat a bit further away from the chaos, knowing dang well his master wouldn’t last without squirming.

“Pfft- that’s not fair!” Itto protested, giggling his ass off already as he tried to gently push the dog away. The affectionate nuzzles and licks against his jaw tickled real bad.

“That’s how it started for me, so it’s plenty fair.” Thoma replied, chuckling with amusement. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the courage to tickle Itto himself, so he let his pupper do it instead.

“Hahahaha! Make him stop~! I- hahaha! I cahahan’t-! Hehehehe!” Itto struggled to speak through his giggles, and Taromarou pushed him over just like he’d done to Thoma.

“Hehehe, that’s so cute~!” Thoma cooed, adoring his dog’s antics. It was also really funny how such a small dog could bring such a powerful oni down like that.

“Hahahaha! C’mohohon! Stahp it!” Itto snickered and finally managed to convince Taromarou to let up, giggling as he caught his breath.

“Are you really that ticklish, Itto?” Thoma teased with amusement. He was genuinely curious, though.

“Tch, am not! Shut up…” Itto protested, though he struggled to act grumpy because that moment was simply too sweet not to smile at.

“You sure about that? Taro sure had you fighting for your life there.” Thoma said with a chuckle.

“Psh, that was nothing! It’s not like I was dying from some puppy love.” Itto scoffed, trying to save his pride.

“Mhm, sure…” Thoma chuckled and shook his head before standing up from the floor.

“I’m not lying!” Itto retorted, standing up as well.

“I didn’t say you were!” Thoma replied.

“You-…! Pfft-…”

Neither of them could continue their banter as they laughed at the situation. Itto never failed to bring joy and sunshine wherever he went, even on the gloomiest of days. Thoma felt grateful to have him as a friend; he was always so kind and loving to him.

Perhaps he should seek him out more often…

[buckevantommy]

another makemewrite excerpt for the nonny who gave me a few prompts in this ask: this one is for don't and it's my casino royale au (which i may have shared something from last year? idk..) yay spy boys!! ♠🥃🤵‍

The word is, this Buckley kid is some poker whiz with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. Tommy thinks he’s dangerous and not just because he’s reckless - which puts the mission in jeopardy - but because he’s gorgeous - which puts Tommy in jeopardy.

But the mission comes first and while Buckley may know poker, the odds and chances of it all, Tommy knows people. He’s spent decades honing his ability to read others in order to survive, and not just in the army or since joining the agency. He knows how to give people what they want. Be what they want. He also knows how to remain unobstrusive, fly under the radar and disappear if need be. Buckley is brash and conspicuous - not exactly conducive to spywork. 

Tommy’s here to inform the kid about the other players’ tells and Buckley will use his own skillset in hand with that information to win. Or at the very least make the others lose.

He doesn’t expect Buckley to lose, and so early on in the night.

“The cards are coming,” he tells Tommy on a brief sojourn at the bar. “Gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelette, ya know.”

All swagger and arrogance; the providence of youth and inexperience. The sort of thing that calls unwanted attention to them and what they’re trying to achieve here. “This isn’t a game, kid,” Tommy grabs his arm before he can slink away. “Lives are at stake.”

Buckley’s smirk is too cocky, his brow raised in defiance, in challenge, jaw clenched. “Then let me do my job.”

Tommy loosens his grip allowing Buckley to yank his arm free and make his way back to the table, fresh martini in hand.

“Since when do you micromanage?”

He doesn’t answer Sal’s question. Barely glances at him as he settles against the bar at Tommy’s elbow. “He’s not ready.” And it's worrying.

“‘Course not. Grant stuck us on babysitting duty. Kid’s got skill but he’s greener than the suitcase full of benjamins he’s bettin’ with." 

Arrogance and self awareness seldom go hand in hand, Athena once told him. At the time, she’d been speaking of Tommy. He’s come a long way since then. And maybe he sees himself in Buckley. Maybe all the kid needs is someone to believe in him. 

With a sigh, he relents. “We let him do his thing. Help him how we can.” 

“Long as that thing is strictly poker," says Sal. "Kid doesn’t have combat training.” 

Four rounds later, Buckley has managed to break even. 

“I’m gonna go check in, bring HQ up to speed. Not that there’s much to tell,” Sal says in parting, leaving just as Buckley returns to the bar.

There's a smug tilt to his lips. “Told ya.” 

“You did.” He shouldn’t have doubted the kid’s skills but he’s untested in the field. “Don’t get cocky. We still need them to bet everything they have, not get away with a safety net.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m workin’ on it. Handlebars might have another tell you didn’t catch ‘cos I’m pretty sure he bluffed his way through that last hand.” 

“How do you know?” 

Buckley gives a shrug. “I mean, it’s not not card-counting. Odds weren’t in his favour.” 

Tommy can't help the hint of a smile cross his lips. “Noted.”  

[thefaithfulnightwriter]

A Premise + A Update & A Vote

A Premise ~ A Burning Star

𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 she was a bright star. A star that burns bright. Even in a dark place she would still burn bright and bring light into people's lives. She was everyone’s bright star, especially three males. Three males who were her brothers. Who would do anything to keep her safe, their little star. 

But it was one horrible night, she goes through something terrible trying to protect herself. But she survives with many losses. Not only did she lose many things she also finds herself lost in a whole new world. In a world so different from hers that she has to navigate. 

She was lost and broken for so long, for so many years. 

Until she finally decided to do something with her life. And with this decision she finds many things happening to her. A rough new intense adventure starts for her. From meeting new friends, enemies, and even meeting someone special she never thought she would find…  a mate who was named 𝖃𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝕽𝖎𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓.  

A Update ~ My Life

Okay hiiiiii you guys okay so much has been going on in my life it isn’t even funny from having my mother going to the hospital and almost losing her a couple times (she’s still goin through it but she’s doin ok now) from losing my best friend do to her actions just yeah she hurt but whatever so yeah a lot has been happening in my life that like really sucks

i wanted to say i am so so so sorry for not uploading anything on here i have mainly been on my wattpad because i can wrap my head around it more like it’s easier for me on there and bc i am more comfortable there yk if that makes any sense but if you want you can check that out and there will be more over there

click here and bang thefaithfulwriter1 my wattpad

the link is there but i wanna try and upload on here now too but i will warn i am more so on my wattpad then anything so it would most likely be uploaded on there first then i'll upload here also i am only gonna be workin on one fic at a time like so A Burning Star has all my attention and i am tryna focus only on this book / fic

but before when i got on her i think i got a lil to happy and excited before and uploaded too much and a lot and i was all over the place while on here lmao then everything happened and i couldn't keep up on here so yeah imma try and stay with one book / fic at a time yk as i said imma try lmao it's just because how my mind and brain works so I am really trying to keep my focus on this book / fic and then once done i will move to the next

but anyways on to A Burning Star right now i got a question about the book / fic yes it is a series more than one chapter more then one part it's a read lmao but it's what i am working on atm it is a crossover a crossover between Fourth Wing and A Court of Thorns and Roses or FW and ACOTAR and the love interest is the lovely Xaden Riorson

i wanted to know did you guys want me to upload it here or no like i have 14 chapters done and written and i am working on writing chapter 15 now of the book / fic and yeah i have so many ideas and everything and i am still writing and on a roll with it and what not

but yeah just let me know do you want to see or read it or uploaded here on tumblr like i have it on wattpad and all but should i put here too and like when should i upload it like all the parts i have at once or put it as a schedule sort of i'm sorry idk if i am making sense lol

ohh and that above was a little premise yk so you can decide if you want me to upload it if i get a good vote and everything then boom it will be done it shall be uploaded by me lol

A Vote

also i am so sorry with how i am tagging this i am just trying to get it out there and find my way around tagging for this fic idk what the f0ck i am doing when it comes to tagging on here lmao if you have any pointers on tagging a crossover like this lmk pleaseee

I am also so iffy and nervous on if i wanna post this on here like i post mostly on wattpad so like idk this would really help

I will shut up now and will leave off with that please let me know your thoughts and if you are excited and want me to upload it lol ok okay hope to hear from you byyyyeee!!!