#like obviously something must’ve been up for him to act like he did and that must’ve sucked for him

[linguenuvolose]

I don’t think many of you were here during ✨the idiot✨ but for those who were (hi ❤️) I want to let you know that I’ve had an incredible breakthrough with my feelings regarding all that this week. I’m now at a point where I feel so to the bone sure that what he did to me is inexcusable that I can now wish him well. I hope he’s doing well, that it’s true that no one has suffered from him like I had to do, that he has gone to therapy, that he’s not in that awful state he must’ve been in when we knew each other. I truly do hope that. What he did to me is in the past, it will never start over, I will never experience that from him ever again, he will never have that type of power and control over me again. I am not afraid of him anymore. If anyone should be afraid it’s him because god knows I have a lot of shouting to catch up on if I ever where to see him again. He’s not the central point in my life around which every negative emotion rotates anymore. I don’t have to explain everything he did to properly explain myself anymore. I don’t think about him every week or every month. Anniversaries aren’t as hard. I’m not “over it”, you don’t “get over” trauma, but I feel free, I feel liberated and it feels so fucking good. I have found peace in the fact that I’ll never get a proper excuse from him, because there is no reason or excuse that he could come up with that would justify what he did and that would make me forgive him. This means I’m not bound to him anymore, because there’s nothing he can do to give me closure. I’ve given myself the closure I need. I honestly never thought I would get here, it felt like it would always hurt as much as it did in the beginning, it felt like this would always be an open wound, it has been for such a long time. But the bleeding has stopped. What he did to me is unforgivable and I’m at peace with that.

[pathologicalreid]

what about Spencer x reader in a relationship and readers struggling with drug addiction?

and now i have to act like i can't read your mind | S.R.

your sobriety is broken by an old 'friend', and spencer's there to help you navigate a new reality

who: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst, hurt/comfort content warnings: drug use, being drugged, spencer's addiction (pre-s12, i was thinking s9), attempted sa, probably inaccurate bc i've never been a drug addict (only dated one), rehab, sobriety, self harm and death. hospitals. take care while reading. word count: 2.6k a/n: i love you cool about it i love you boygenius i love you spencer reid

You could hear your own heartbeat, it was so loud that, for a moment, you could convince yourself that your heart was migrating through your body. The cold of the bathroom tiles sept into your skin as you willed it to cool down the rest of your body. Your inability to recall how you ended up on the bathroom floor didn’t concern you, the only thing you could think of was getting the rest of your body to feel as cold as the bathroom floor.

And then the knocking on the door woke you up. Quick, frantic knocks at the bathroom door jolted you awake as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, “Y/N, open the door,” Spencer said from the other side of the door.

Against your better judgment, you didn’t move to open the door. “I don’t have anything,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as they struggled to focus in the bathroom, only a nightlight available to illuminate the small space. You sat up, using the edge of the bathtub as a backrest as you took a deep breath, imagining air swirling through your lungs as you did so.

“Baby, you have to open the door for me,” he begged, fidgeting with the door handle. At some point in your exhaustion, you must have broken the number one rule in your apartment – no locked doors. Obviously, he hadn’t heard your response, because he just continued to knock, “I need to know that you’re okay.”

Besides a crick in your neck from sleeping on the mosaic tile, you were fine, but Spencer didn’t wait for an answer from you before swinging the door open, the key still in the lock. “I’m fine,” you told him, but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking around the bathroom. “There’s nothing in here,” you said, knowing he’d still look.

After he had done a once over of the bathroom, he crouched in front of you, “You fell asleep in the bathroom?” His brows were furrowed in concern as he hooked a finger beneath your chin and tilted your head to the side, inspecting the imprint the tiles had made on your cheek.

You nodded dejectedly, “I didn’t feel well, I must’ve locked the door on instinct, but I…” Your voice trailed off, thinking about the bathroom in your dream. “I was in the bathroom?”

Spencer gave you a confused look, “You’re still in the bathroom?” He responded, feeling your head with the back of his hand as if he was checking for a fever.

“No, at the bar,” you clarified, “I was in the bathroom.”

He swallowed thickly, studying your expression for a moment before answering, “Yeah, that’s where they found you.”

‘They’ being the group of college friends that you had gone out with last weekend, just a small get-together while a few of them were in town. It had been a perfectly fine outing until one of them had slipped something in your drink, knowing your history with drugs, he had thought he could brush it off by telling people you relapsed.

Ten years. Ten years clean. Ten years without a pill. Ten years reduced to six days, just because a guy you went to college with wanted a quick fuck.

But his business degree hadn’t taught him how to measure the drugs he had gotten from god knows where, and in the process, he nearly killed you. You excused yourself to the bathroom where you promptly keeled over, hitting the ground hard enough to bruise the side of your body.

A college girl, who you’d never be able to thank, had found you and called an ambulance, and one of your friends had called Spencer.

You reached up and wiped at your face, “I didn’t take the drugs,” you mumbled, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer told you, reaching out and gingerly resting a hand on your shoulder. He had been your biggest advocate in the hospital, requesting new nurses if any of them even dared to look at you funny, turning away visitors on your behalf, and letting you cry into his shoulder when he had to be the one to explain what happened.

Spencer had been the one to insist something was wrong, his rational mind couldn’t find any justification for why you would try to overdose on ketamine after being off narcotics for a decade. Without leaving your bedside, he asked the BAU to get security footage from the bar, and just like that, you were no longer a strung-out addict but a victim.

You didn’t remember much of anything from that night, bits and pieces came back to you in flashes, but you’d have to learn to be okay with never having memories of that night. You had lost something so dear to you, and you were struggling with trying to choose if it was better to have no memory or to remember everything.

The hospital staff kept you overnight, waiting for the drugs to leave your system until Spencer brought you home. He was taking time off to stay with you, taking every snide remark that you threw in his direction because he knew. He knew you were retaliating against what had happened to you, and he knew that none of the anger you felt was genuinely directed at him.

Once you had gotten home, the first thing you told Spencer was that you wished he had killed you.

The only person in your life who would understand was Spencer, but he still had to take precautions. He changed the code on his gun safe, all sharp objects were now out of reach, and when he searched the bathroom earlier, he was looking for something you could use to hurt yourself.

Resting your chin on your knee, you sighed and closed your eyes. You looked outside the bathroom, the faint glow of a lamp emanating from the bedroom, “What time is it?”

“Almost four,” Spencer answered, that would be four in the morning then.

You still had a few hours before you needed to get up and face the day, there were therapists to see and NA meetings to attend. “Are you going to work today?” You opened your eyes to see that Spencer had joined you in sitting on the floor.

He shook his head, “No, I’m gonna stay with you for at least a few more days.”

A certain kind of guilt built in your stomach when Spencer stayed away from work on your behalf like you were dooming people by keeping him from the FBI. “Maybe you should just have me committed,” you told him, wrapping your arms around your knees, trying to make yourself seem as small as possible.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” he said, giving you a knowing look. “Do you think that’s your next step? In-patient rehab?”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you tightened your grip on your legs, “You could go back to work if you didn’t have to stay back and babysit me.”

The dim lamp from the bedroom cast abstract shadows across his face, “I’m not particularly concerned about work right now.”

Pulling yourself up from the floor, you turned on the tap and splashed your face with cold water before switching the water off. “You and I know you don’t get enough PTO to keep staying home with me,” you snatched a washcloth from the towel bar, pressing the cotton to your skin and groaning.

“I’ve worked it out,” he responded, providing you with no more details – they weren’t strictly necessary.

Setting the towel back in its place, you sniffled before turning to face him, “Give Dave his PTO back, Spencer.”

Rising to his feet, he looked at you with misery in his eyes – misery you had caused. “It’s already gone through to HR, and for the record, everyone pitched in to help, Y/N.”

“God, fuck the record! I don’t care if the director himself came to you and gave you more time off, you don’t need it,” you told him, dramatically trudging out of the bathroom with Spencer following close behind.

Instead of meeting his eyes, you focused on his hair, a single strand had fallen across his forehead. “I can’t in good conscience leave you alone. Baby, you have to understand that. I know how you’re feeling right now.”

You scoffed, “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through right now.”

That wasn’t technically true though. Spencer sighed, taking each of your hands into his, “Being victimized-“

“Don’t call me that,” you interjected, flinching at the word he chose to use.

Spencer paused for a moment, squeezing your hands reassuringly before speaking again, “In this situation, you’re a victim first and an addict second. You’re being deposed because you’re the victim of a crime that the state is taking to trial. I know you hate the word, and if I have to be the one to desensitize you to it, then I’m alright with that.”

You’d previously asked about being allowed to provide a written statement instead of being presented in court, but you were still waiting for a response. In the meantime, you needed to make a decision on whether or not you wanted to make a tort claim. “I don’t want to be,” you breathed, wishing you could turn back time.

“I know,” he whispered, “and it’s not fair. None of this is fair to you, but you’re not seventeen and being prescribed oxycodone by a surgeon. You’ve been dealt a hand of cards for a game you never wanted to play in the first place, and I’m so sorry for that.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at him, blinking back tears when you accidentally met his eyes, “How… no it’s- never mind.”

Spencer frowned, “Stop doing that,” he spoke gently.

“Doing what?” You asked, leaning back against the bed, using the mattress for support.

He knelt in front of you, allowing you to maintain the upper hand, “Starting to open up and then shutting yourself down. You’re filtering your words, and I’d rather you hurt my feelings than stay silent,” he reassured you, “I can take it.”

Pursing your lips, you peered down at him, “How do you cope with it?”

“Cope with what, baby?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked at him thoughtfully, “The loss of autonomy,” you answered. “That… that was how it started for you, right? Being drugged? How do you cope with having that decision forcibly taken away from you? Because, right now, all I can think of is lashing out in some way to try to reclaim my autonomy.”

“Like hurting yourself?” He asked, peering up at you through his eyelashes.

There had been moments where you considered it, things like putting your hand on the kettle when you made tea. You wanted an external wound that you could use to somehow convey the hurt you felt internally. “Yes,” you breathed, the answer escaping from your lips before giving it a second thought, “Or taking something.” A city like D.C. was never lacking in narcotics dealers – you just had to know where to go.

Spencer frowned, “It’s always been different for me than it was for you. I think it’s important for you to remember that yes, your choice was taken from you that night, but every day and every night since then you have made the choice to protect yourself.”

You sniffled, leaning your head onto your shoulder to wipe tears from your cheeks, “I keep trying to convince myself that one day I’ll forget about it, but I know that’s not true and I- I’m having a really difficult time,” you admitted with watery eyes.

“I know,” Spencer cooed, “I know, c’mere.” He slowly rose to sit next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms and allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder, tears seeping through the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

His fingers gently skimmed over your spine, causing you to melt into him, “I hate him,” you whispered, wringing your hands as Spencer held you close.

He hummed, “What happened to you does not erase the fact that you were sober for ten years. Do you understand that?” Pausing for a moment, Spencer continued his ministrations on your back, gently rocking back and forth, “You should hate him. You’re allowed to be angry at the situation you’re in, I never want you to think that you can’t express how you’re feeling to me because you’re worried I’ll have you committed.”

“Keep holding me,” you murmured, soaking in the physical contact like a sponge. Other than holding your hands or a hand on your back to guide you, Spencer had been wary of touching you. He was worried about triggering a memory you didn’t know you had, but you’d found yourself wanting him to hold you tightly enough so that you couldn’t break even if you wanted to. “I don’t want to go to rehab,” you told him, keeping your voice just loud enough for him to hear.

Adjusting the way you were sitting, you looked up at him to see that tears of his own had formed in his eyes, “Then no rehab. You have the coping skills that you need to get through this, and I’m going to be here the whole time.”

Your therapist had likened this to a bump in the road, but it felt more equivalent to a sinkhole. “Are we going to be alright?” You asked with a note of hesitation in your voice. There were a lot of tribulations that came with an addict dating another addict, but you and Spencer had always felt stronger together as opposed to apart.

“Yes,” he answered easily as if he had given it thought already, “You and I are going to be just fine. It’s just going to take time.”

You groaned, separating yourself from him and laying back on the bed, “How much time?”

He smiled softly down at you, “As much time as it takes.”

“That’s a horrible answer,” You told him, following his movements with your eyes as he lay down next to you. “You’re supposed to tell me that the power of our love can overcome anything.”

Propping his head up so that he could see you better, Spencer studied your bloodshot eyes, “I love you so astronomically much,” he whispered across the pillows. “There will never be a day where my heart is not full of love for you,” he told you, reaching across the bed to skim his fingers across your cheek.

You melted into your pillow, watching him curiously, “Will you promise to tell me if my recovery becomes too much for you?” Pulling the inside of your cheek between your molars, you awaited his answer, afraid of jeopardizing his sobriety in the name of regaining your own.

He nodded, “I promise that I will tell you if I need to take a minute to protect myself, but you don’t need to worry about censoring yourself to protect me.”

Closing your eyes you nodded, “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. You have done nothing wrong,” he insisted, opening his arms as you shuffled across the mattress to him. “You never have to apologize to me, not for this.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you absentmindedly traced shapes on his chest with your pointer finger, “Everything feels so… wrong.”

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “It will all level out eventually. The sky can’t fall forever.”

[literaila]

I'd love to request a reader who's obsessed with love languages (me fr) and is trying to figure out what peter's is without directly asking him

obviously r gets caught in the act

Thank you so much!!

-🔮

stalemate

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: teasing, fluff, complex relationship issues (lying)

a/n: i do believe peter’s love language is physical touch/words of affirmation but that’s a conversation for a different time

*

“would you rather run errands with someone and hold hands, or run errands with someone and get kicked out of the store cause you’re ‘disturbing the other customers?’”

peter momentarily pauses his chewing, raising an eyebrow at you. “one of these scenarios involves me getting escorted out of the grocery store.”

“yeah, but because you’re having too much fun.”

he shakes his head. “no such thing.”

“clearly, there is.”

he rifles through the remainder of his food, like digging for gold, but his cheek is twitching, and his eyes are thoughtful as he looks down. “why cant i have fun and hold hands with you?”

“okay,” you point at him, leaning back. peter, though you’d put his food across the kitchen table, so you could sit face to face, was adamant that you were too far. so now there’s only a table corner separating the two of you. and these questions, of course, building up a careful foundation. “first of all, i didn’t say it was me—“

“who else would get us kicked out of a grocery store?”

“and second of all, because that’s not the question. holding hands or ribs-hurt laughing?”

“both of those sound equally painful,” peter keeps leaning towards you like he knows something you don’t. which he doesn’t.

you lean forward too, undeterred by his challenge. “so you’re a completely-silent-errand-running-with-a-healthy-five-foot-distance kinda guy?”

“we literally went shopping today.” peter gestures back to the kitchen, where bags of produce and sugary containers (peter’s pickings) remain. after dinner, you’d both swore, but you’re having a hard time finishing your food. “you know what kinda guy i am.”

so it goes, on and on. you asking peter the same type of hypothetical questions you’d been all day. he hasn’t seemed to question it, besides a couple of ill-fated looks.

and you do. know, that is. peter did almost get you kicked out of the store today, when he’d tripped over a sign and knocked down a whole shelf of boxes. this, he claimed, was the crime of a faulty layout. though, he’d bumped into the sign in the first place because he refused to let go of your hand, even when it was less than conscientious.

this, though, you don’t bring up.

“if i bought you a gift,” you continue, ignoring his carefully planned out bantering techniques. “would you want something expensive, or something heart-felt?”

“why is that a question?”

you stare at him, nonchalant, gesturing for him to continue.

“are you buying me a gift?” he asks, rolling his eyes at you.

“maybe. your birthday’s coming up.”

“it is november,” he says, dryly.

“good memory.”

peter snorts. “my birthday is in august. you know, like, two months ago?”

“hmm…” you lean your chin on a hand, staring into hard honeysuckle eyes with feigned confusion. “i must’ve missed it.”

“you got me a spider-man calendar.”

“don’t recall.”

“i can go get it,” he points over his shoulder, leaning, again, towards you. enough so that you can feel his breath, smooth and challenging. “it’s just in the bedroom.”

“answer the question.”

he sighs and leans back again, almost laughing. “heartfelt, obviously. like my very cherished spider-man calendar. which is for this year, i might add.”

“what a wonderful gift,” you smile too, adoringly, “you should thank whoever got it for you.”

peter furrows his brows, though not in confusion. “i did,” he says, softly, trying to break you.

but you remain where you are, smiling as cool as you’ve been all day.

which is to say, of course, that you’ve been dancing circles around peter and hoping that he hasn’t noticed.

you hadn’t even thought of it until two days ago, when out to lunch with your friend and she mentioned a book—fabled and probably recommended by some hot-shot magazine—about how to connect with your partner.

“love languages,” she’d said to you, “are the basis to every relationship.”

and this must have been true because despite a rough patch between her and her girlfriend, they were now as solid as always. and you could tell this, just from how at ease she’d seemed.

which, naturally, put you on edge.

not that you doubted peter, or your relationship with him. besides some run of the mill insecurities, peter was probably the loveliest person you’d ever met. so it was probably a bad thing that you had no clue—not a single suspicion, or thought—what his love language was.

thus, the questions began. and peter’s dubiousness doubled with every one you asked.

evident because he was still watching you. “are we acting out a scenario in which you need a visa and i agree to marry you?”

you kick him under the table. “what? i cant ask you questions?”

“i think this is the fortieth one today.”

“i’ve asked, like, three, and you haven’t even tried to answer any of them properly.”

“you know we’re in a real relationship, right? i know your favorite color and everything.”

you stand up from the table, grabbing your take-out container, and his, and walking to the kitchen.

peter trails after you, clearly noticing your evasion. “do you actually need a visa?” he asks, leaning against a counter, almost knocking over one of the grocery bags. “cause i think you’re supposed to tell the person you’re getting married to. so i can ask you some questions.”

“doesn’t seem like you’re having any problems with that.”

peter snorts and comes behind you while you grab something out of the first bag. his hands are warm as they wrap around your waist, resting on your stomach like a possession. “what’s up with you?”

“i’m unbagging the groceries.”

“you’ve been acting weird all day. do you need to talk to me about something?”

“no.” you pull away from him, putting some apples in the fruit bowl. “you’re crazy.”

“yes. i am the crazy one.”

you hum and walk around him, carefully not meeting his eyes.

after a couple minutes of this, with peter pretending to put things away, you break, uncomfortable with the silence.

“painting a room together,” you start, “or cuddling?”

peter pushes off of the counter, his teeth peaking behind his lips. “cuddling, obviously. you’re a terrible painter.”

he moves about a foot away from you, staring, again, like he knows something you don’t.

“what?” you ask him, closing a drawer. you cross your arms.

“nothing. nothing.”

but peter is grinning at you.

“what’s with your face?”

“what’s with yours?”

you roll your eyes at him, not moving. peter copies your stance, and the two of you remain as still as statues, testing one another.

finally, peter laughs. “you think i don’t know what you’re doing?”

“posing hypothetical questions?”

“i know what love languages are, baby,” peter steps closer to you. his hands just lingering by the seam of your shirt. “you’d make a terrible detective.”

despite the heat running through your body at being caught, you narrow your eyes at him. “me? it only took you all day to figure it out.”

“that’s cause i was giving you the benefit of the doubt. i thought you really wanted to know.”

“i do,” you cross your arms, bumping into him, offended. “i would’ve given up like three hours ago if i didn’t.”

“you’re crazy,” he says, simply. his look is amorous. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“no. i should know just from spending time with you. that’s couple 101.”

peter actually laughs. right in your face. he leans down, resting his chin against your head for support. “cant say i’ve ever taken that class.”

“well you should. it’s very informative.”

“okay, professor, then what’s my love language?”

you open your mouth. then close it. you push him back. “i’m not telling you.”

“oh,” peter tilts his head. “why not?”

“cause that’s cheating. figure out your own love language.”

“you think i don’t know what i like?”

“nope.”

peter shakes his head at you. “you just don’t know.”

“you just don’t know,” you poke his cheek. “you couldn’t even decide which cereal to get. we have three boxes now.”

“that’s called choice paralysis,” he informs you, as if you didn’t have this conversation earlier. “and you agreed to that.”

“sure,” you say to him, turning away.

“you’re a sore loser.”

“we’re not playing a game.”

“the elaborate ‘would you rather’ scheme wasn’t a game?” he asks.

“it was an informative questionnaire.”

peter gets in your way as you try to walk out of the kitchen. “then why hasn’t it informed you?”

you roll your eyes at him again. “c’mon, peter, you know that data can take weeks to process.”

he runs a hand up to your face, easily trapping you. “you just don’t know” he repeats softly.

he’s getting close again; resuming the game he’d lost earlier.

“you don’t know,” you say, stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.

“i know i like you,” he answers, breath marring your reaction skills.

and before you can even smile in response, peter is kissing you.

his lips are soft, pushing at you like he wants you to admit defeat. consoling you into a loss. convincing you to back down.

but you refuse.

you pull away, pushing his hand off of you. “that’s cheating.”

“we never set any rules.”

“well you’re breaking one.”

peter leans and let’s it go, crossing his arms as he looks at you, very arrogantly. “that’s okay,” he shrugs.

you attempt to catch your breath while peter stares at you, clearly thinking that he’s won.

“okay,” you say, pouting. “tell me. what’s your love language?”

peter smiles voraciously at this. he takes a step towards you, molding his body heat into yours.

then he shakes his head, his smile falling into something sweeter. “i don’t know,” he whispers to you, hand reaching down for yours, hair in his eyes. “physical touch, probably, before. but i like everything with you. i always want more, doesn’t matter what it is.”

you brush the hair out of his eyes, smiling.

though your intents are less than straightforward, there’s still a part of you that curls under this confession, like it just can’t take it.

“that’s sweet,” you whisper, leaning into him. he’s bent down so his nose is to yours.

peter hums, breathing in the smell of your skin, and pulling you closer and he stands there, lingering on the briefest of touches.

he tilts his head a bit, lips lined up with yours.

and you smile. “i’m not telling you mine,” you whisper to him, quickly pulling away and moving to the table, whistling as you do so.

you start to collect the trash you’d left there, hearing nothing for a moment, but peter’s heavy breathing.

you smile at the sound of his defeat.

“now that’s cheating,” he says, and you laugh.

*

[l0vem41l]

something's wrong with the morning.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing

author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽｀) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!

"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"

dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.

“gm.”

you sent two letters. and a period at the end.

immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.

you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.

so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?

of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.

but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.

the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.

more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.

there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit

nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.

maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.

or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.

was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?

either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.

later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??

“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”

he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.

before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.

“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”

you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.

“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”

he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.

"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.

he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[torasplanet]

❝𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝘿𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿𝙉'𝙏.ᐟ❞

S. SANO + RYUGUJI!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; fucking your little brother's role model while they're just outside is probably something you shouldn't do but shinichiro was just so cute that you couldn't help it!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, public sex?, oral (m receiving), backshots, p in v, slutty!reader kinda, reader is draken's sister, shin being pussy drunk, loser!shin, kinda short, smoking, unprotected sex, shin's weak ass pull out game, reader skin color not mentioned

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; one of my all time fav tr writers liked my rinnie post AND reposted it(≧∇≦) !! literally had me giggling and kicking my feet yall :3

The sound of the bell ringing as the door opened gained Shinichio’s attention as he worked on a bike in the front of the shop, he looked up to see who walked in and the cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth with how his lips parted. There stood probably the most beautiful woman Shinichiro had ever seen, you. You stood there with the sunlight shining behind you like you were an angel staring at him with a delightful look on your face, his eyes trailed to your side seeing your little brother, draken standing right next to you with your hand on the side of his head pressing his face into your lower torso as an act of affection but he had an annoyed look on his face obviously not enjoying it.

You must’ve been his sister, draken did say you might come around one day because of how worried you were about where he was going all day after school “You’re Shinichiro right?” You asked tilting your head slightly while you both continued to stare at each other, shinichiro’s cheeks turned a bit red as he continued to gaze at you and your body “Uh yeah.” The smile on your face grew at his response, his voice was hot. He was hot and his voice matched it, you decide then that you need him.

“Cool, I told Kenny I had to meet you or he wouldn’t be able to play.” You said nodding slightly, draken frowned at your comment and began to grumble something about how they weren’t ‘playing’ and how he told you not to call him that in front of people but you didn’t care. You were too busy staring at the Sano man who still hadn’t broken eye contact with you, the only time he did was when his eyes trailed down to your chest. Shinichiro put down the wrench in his hand and looked at draken “They’re out back.” He told the small blonde boy who almost ran out the door before he remembered to look at you asking for permission silently, he knew how strict you were about asking for permission “You heard him, go.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, draken quickly ran out the front door circling the building shouting for Mikey and announcing that he was here which made a giggle escape you as you broke eye contact with the black-haired male to watch your brother.

Shinichiro reached for the rag that was draped on the handle of the bike as he used the opportunity of you not looking at him to observe your body and drool at how your clothes hugged your shape so perfectly “So uh, what’s your name?” He already knew your name, Draken told him but he wanted you to tell him.

To start a conversation y’know?

“[Y/n].” You said watching as the scrawny man wiped his hands free of any grime or oil that had come from the bike, you slightly bit your lip at the sight of his veiny pale hands as you walked closer to him very slowly “That’s a pretty name.” Shinichiro said taking the cigarette out of his mouth before putting it out on the floor he was kneeling on and tossing it behind him, he’d remind himself to clean that up later but right now, he wasn’t moving an inch away especially with you getting closer to him.

“Thank you, y’know shinichiro’s a pretty name too.” You said smiling widely at the compliment and how Shinichiro chuckled lowly at your reply, he was so cute! Him calling your name pretty shouldn’t have meant that much to you because it was just a simple compliment but for you...it was enough to let him fuck you in the back room of the shop after only a few minutes of small talk.

Your hands planted on the flat table black oil getting all over them as you rocked back and forth making the table shake and your breasts that were held by your lacy bra bounce, Shinichiro’s hands held a firm grip on your hips as he relentlessly pounded into you moaning and groaning about how good you felt while he eyed your smooth back as it arched with every harsh hit to your cervix “F-fuck! Shin…!” You moaned out throwing your head back while trying to keep yourself steady while you stared up at the tools propped up on the wall above your head with your lidded eyes full of lust and small tears, it was just so good.

Your shorts were discarded somewhere on the floor along with your panties and shirt leaving you only in your lacey black bra which Shinichiro was dying to rip off, your legs were shaking as you tried to keep standing and not fall to the ground and Shinichiro’s were too, fuck he hadn’t had sex in a while and his legs were cramping but he was not stopping at all. You felt too good for him to stop now “S-so good…! Mhm, f-fuckkkk, baby.” He moaned out running a hand up your smooth back making shivers run down your spine, your face nearly hit the tools on the wall from how violent his thrusts were but you continued moaning like a porn star like your brother, his brother, and their other little friends weren’t outside of this shop right now hanging out. You almost felt guilty for doing this whenever you occasionally heard the fits of giggles and yelling that came from them, key word, almost.

You heard a lot about Shinichiro Sano, the former leader and creator of The Black Dragons. Mainly from your brother who clearly looked up to Shinichiro a lot and he didn't deny it, he told you how he thought Shinichiro was cool for his motor skills but everything else you heard was how he was a loser who got no girls, how he spends most of his time in his shop working on bikes and you were expecting an actual loser, an ugly guy, and thought that this meeting would be short and you’d be quickly to leave but when you caught a glimpse of what he looked like the moment you stepped through the door. You knew you weren’t leaving, not without something from him like his number anyway. You were getting much more than his number.

It didn’t make sense to you how this hot man didn’t get any girls. No one wanted this man? He was hot, and cute, and god did he know how to fuck but their loss, more shin for you;)

“Ow! B-Be...ngh...careful!” You whined through your pitiful moans as Shinichiro delivered a harsh slap to the fat of your ass, he opened his eyes and looked down at you with sweat bullets running down his forehead and nearly closed eyes “Sorry...fuck, beautiful, just–ugh–can’t get enough of ya’.” He responded retreating his hand back to your hip, your hands flew up from the table and onto the wall and the tools covering them in the thick black oil that your palms were coated in. Your cunt tightened around him as you let out a large high-pitched yelp, god you haven’t even known him for twenty minutes and you were already nearing your edge.

But what you didn’t know is that Shinichiro had been holding back for a while so you didn’t think he was a loser for cumming so fast, he was going to wait until you came but this wasn’t really that effective on his part because it’s like holding back and the warmth of your throbbing cunt killed most of the brain cells he had, he wasn’t thinking, there was nothing to think about other than this magnificent pussy of yours. Shinichiro didn’t care about his brother and his stupid friends, he couldn’t give a single shit if they walked in here right now, he’d probably keep going.

Your lips parted forming a small ‘O’ as you breathed heavily “Shit, shit, shit! M’...cumming!” You shouted with your nails digging into the tools on the wall causing you pain but the pleasure overrode it. These words were like the lottery to him as he looked up at the ceiling seeing stars as he felt you cum all over him, he wanted to pull out and spray thick ropes onto your back and that stupid fucking bra he couldn’t take off but he couldn’t and ended up cumming inside, it’s not like he was incompetent, it was just too hard to see anything with the white spots he was seeing.

“Oh my fucking god.” The sano male muttered as he looked at your cunt leaking a mixture of your cum and his own, you were so damn beautiful and his cock sprung up once again when you turned your head to look back at him with a tired face, you glanced down at your back which you expected to be covered in cum before looking at him once again with a tired and evil smile growing on your face and it made him wonder what you were planning to do or say. What he was about to hear would probably put his loser ass in a fucking coma. “Want more.” His eyes widened at your statement and he looked at you like you were crazy. 

You needed more of him, you couldn’t just settle for some sloppy backshots! You didn’t expect him to cum inside of you but now that he had, you craved more. More of his dick, you felt like you would die right here if you didn’t “Huh? More?” Shinichiro questioned as he watched you turn your body around before you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him with your legs spread slightly, his dark eyes lowered down once again gazing at how his cum continued to seep out of you and onto the ground with some smeared on the inside of your thighs. He made eye contact with you and you were looking up at him through your lashes with a sweet look “If that’s…okay with you?” You said continuing to look up at him from your spot on the floor completely ignoring his cock that was in front of your face.

Shinchiro wasn’t that lengthy but what he didn’t have in the length department, he made up with his girth, and boy did you feel all of that thickness when he plunged himself into you. It was like he was re-shaping your walls “Y-Yeah, of course!” Shinichiro said more cheerfully than he wanted to as you put your hands on his clothes thighs as his pants were only lowered a bit, he loved the idea of going at it again but that bra…he wanted–no, he needed it off.

“But, can…can you take off your bra?” He requested nervously making you smile and giggle a bit, he was acting like a virgin! Maybe he was but there was no way a virgin could fuck that good. You hummed in response before reaching your arms back and undoing your bra strap before letting it fall to the ground in front of you and Shinichiro’s mouth was agape at the sight, he was definitely rock hard by now “Glad to see you think m’ pretty.” You said looking at his dick that was standing up straight practically sitting against his lower abdomen, you reached to grab it but remembered the oil all over your hands, Shinchiro didn’t. He didn’t care if you covered his cock with that oil, he just needed you to touch him “Forgot about the oil, sorry.” You said quietly wiping your hands on his jeans before lowering your mouth onto him taking him in with no problem whatsoever.

His head flew back with his black hair springing everywhere “Fuck, m....my god.” He moaned as his hand flew to your head as you bobbed your head up and down, your nose pressing into the messy nest that was his black pubes with your hands remaining on his clothed thighs “God, are you always this straight-forward?” Shinichiro asked looking back down at you trying his hardest not to moan as he got that sentence out, you giggled on his dick sending vibrations to it before you pulled off momentarily to reply.

“No, just f'you. You were too cute, couldn’t resist.” You didn’t even give him a chance to respond before you were back sucking on his cock like it was oxygen, you weren’t…really a whore but you weren’t exactly a virgin mary either. But you never let a guy do this much on the first time you met, hell not even the first week but Shinichiro was special, he was really cute and his dick was too! You had no issue being his little cock whore.

Shameless moans and sucking noises echoed into the atmosphere and Shinichiro began to get dizzy and he was seeing stars once again, Jesus, you were really trying to suck his soul out of him weren’t you? Though he wasn’t complaining, not at all and his pathetic whines and groans were evidence of that. “Fuck! Wanna cum on...y-ou. All on you, will you let me baby?” He wailed with a tight grip on your head as he felt your tongue swirl around his cock and his bright pink tip, you nodded and hummed not removing your lips from around his cock enjoying the taste of yourself and his cum that was left on him. He felt a smile growing on your lips as his back arched slightly at the vibrations you were sending to his dick.

God, he was cumming already and you knew it. You wiped your right hand all over his pants to get rid of any oil that was left on there before removing your lips from him with a thin string of saliva connecting you to his tip. Your hand replaced the warmth and moist place that was in your mouth as you began to jerk him off while looking up at him smiling at his moans and his red face. 

The sano adult eventually came and came all over your face and tits, he tried to regain a steady breathing pace as he looked down at the beautiful sight that was you as you scooped some of the cum that was on your chest before popping your finger in your mouth humming at the taste. He continued to gaze at you even when you looked at him.

“So, wanna go on a date?”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[mrsbarnesblog]

hiii 🤍 can you write something like headcanons or a blurb for Rafe and Reader with social anxiety. like how they start dating and how he helps her to get through it. thanks!!

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Words: 0.8k

A/N: thanks for the request, love. I really want to try to write something short-ish so I would be glad to get some cute/smutty requests 😉

When Rafe first saw you at one of the parties, he obviously didn’t recognize you

He asked around and almost no one knew about you. the only only thing that he got was that you were Sarah’s friend’s friend

He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt that weird shit in his stomach every time his eyes traveled back to you through the crowd

You were always with a few girls and he could notice that you acted really shy and didn’t talk to anyone else

When Rafe finally caught you alone and decided to talk to you, he swore that the color left your skin as soon as you saw him

Eyes rounded, looking up at him with a nervous smile and fingers that were constantly moving the straw in your drink

He couldn’t talk to your properly because, almost immediately, your friends basically snatched you away from him

So he just kept looking at you the whole night

You were shy and nervous, but there were a few times when one of your friend said something and you just smiled so brightly or laughed that it made Rafe smile himself

He kept seeing you almost everywhere after that party, as if you suddenly became visible for him 

Rafe had never chased after someone, but he for sure did it with you

It took him weeks to just properly talk to you because you either vanished before he could get to you or you just weren’t visible anywhere for a few days

At first, he didn’t know how to act around you. No one in his circle had social anxiety

So he read too much information about it to know how to make you feel comfortable

He thought that it must’ve been what having crush feels like because your shy smiles and trembling voice were on his mind 24/7 

As you warmed up towards him, Rafe realised how fucking funny and cool you were

When for some time, your anxiety stepped away and you were your true self?

The best thing he had ever seen

So he hell for you hard

Then, after being just friends for almost three months and sharing too many moments when you both started smiling at each other like idiots, he finally decided to kiss you

He felt how your hands were shaking and your heart beating so fast as if it were going to jump out of your chest, so he tried his best to be gentle and soothe you with his hand slowly running up and down your spine

And then Rafe became completely obsessed and protective over you 

He noticed how you only feel comfortable around him and some of your friends

So he does everything he can to help you with it

Rafe never leaves your side on any party, dinner or event 

He started hanging out with his old friends less because of you and he secretly thinks that it’s better for him

You were good influence  

Hand are always on you, because you once said, that it grounds and distracts you

He lets you play with his ring when you get too overwhelmed

When you go shopping or in any crowded place, Rafe always holds your hand and leads you

While you always look down and rarely notice surroundings, he’s like a hawk, ready to spot anyone and anything 

You need to make an appointment or order something? Rafe will talk instead of you if you’re scared

Even if you’re uncomfortable when he spends money on you, he reassures you that it makes him happy to take care of you

He never complains when you don’t feel like going out anywhere and communicating with people

He’s more than happy to spend the night at his house snuggling in his bed with tons of food and a movie that you chose

Whenever you say that you’re too nervous and nauseous to do something, Rafe’s always by your side, saying sweet things in your ear while hugging you

He finds it cute when you get nervous around him, even after you have been together for a few months

He’s getting better with communication once he realizes how important it is to you to be sure about his feeling and thoughts

Rafe actually becomes a better person because of you

The anger and hate do not seem so important anymore, not when he has the most loving and supportive girlfriend in the world

So yeah, he’s just in love 

[azul-marie]

ada. (enamour)

fem. reader. love rivalry including ada/reader/leon. (focus on reader)

something cold digs in between your shoulder blades, sending shivers up tense muscles.

it’s a sudden sensation. catches you off guard you forget to call out to leon, whose back is turned to you whilst sifting through paper files laying across an abandoned wooden desk. the latest room you’ve snuck into seemed abandoned enough — save for its open window rocking back and forth on screeching bolts. they must’ve entered through there mere seconds before the two of you did.

warm, sweet breath tickles your earlobe. another round of shivers overtake your senses. this time, through, you recover quickly enough to react.

your hand flies to your pocketed blade and in an instant is pressed up to their throat. it is then you realize, recognize who your company is. she smiles serenely at you, acting like the knife at her neck isn’t sharp enough to slice through bone. she bears her pistol with all the grace of someone who’s caught you in her web, not the other way around.

“long time no see, kitten.”

her deadpan voice practically echoes through the silence of the night. finally surprising your partner into turning around. what surprises him further is the way ada gazes at you, almost identical to the way she did at him all those years ago.

“ada.” leon says plainly, hand hovering over his own pistol. his eyes flicker between the two of you, to the way your hand fumbles with your blade, to how she smiles a little too suggestively for someone being threatened. he’s certain you’re about to push her down, or for her to knock the knife away from your obviously loosened grip — neither happen.

instead, you carefully tuck your blade away and greet her with a coy smile of your own.

“i wasn’t expecting you here, red.” your arms cross, a guard of sorts. you knew full well of the games she liked to play. she holds your eyes as she slips her pistol back in its holster, searching for something you refuse to show. it’s been a long time, indeed, but you still remember how to compose yourself around her. it’s all rather flattering.

ada circles you, trailing her fingertips over your shoulders. her silky touch is the only weapon in her grasp, but it is perhaps her most dangerous. she takes pleasure in the way you shift beneath her watch, how your pretty face fights to remain mild. she’s no fool. she sees the smile playing at those luscious lips of yours — why bother hiding it? she’s all sultry eyes just for you, now that she’s finally managed to separate your stuffy partner’s hip from yours. seems he hadn’t changed after all. he really was the clingy type.

it was cute. once. not when he happened to be clingy with you of all people.

“once i heard you were around, i just couldn’t help myself.” her arm comes to rest around the curve of your waist. her fingers press into the flesh of your hip, easing you closer. her lips hover over the soft of your neck, almost kissing a path up to your ear. your breathing stutters, and she purrs, “wanted to stop by and catch up with my favorite girl, is all.”

you scoff, but there’s no stopping the heat rising up and over your face. those pretty lips of yours finally turn up in a smile, bashful like a schoolgirl crush. the temptation to run her thumb over your bottom lip runs strong — until an awkward, intentional clear of a throat interrupts the thought.

“i’d appreciate if you left my partner alone.” leon interjects, striding to stand tall besides you. in a swift motion he interweaves your elbows together and pulls you towards him, at once halting the hold she had on you. it’s a comfortable, possessive sort of touch. how quaint. cute little leon, still wearing his heart on his sleeve.

given the way his hand clamps around yours, he must really have it bad. what a shame. for him.

ada is slow to drag her eyes away from you. she even runs them up, down, over your lovely body for good measure. she can’t have leon thinking she isn’t willing to compete — two can play at that game. his fuming glower tells her he’s gotten the message loud and clear. as he should. she zeros in on the way his grip tightens around yours, again, cozily touching you as if you were his.

a quirk of her brow suggests ire. “glad to see you, leon. to think, after all this time, you’re still such a lucky man. who would’ve thought she’d end up being your partner?”

the two of them stare each other down with such intensity you wonder what other history they share aside from you. tension seeps into the chill of the nighttime air. leon’s coiled up so tightly it raises worry, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bicep to placate him. for all you know, the mysterious plagas infecting him could thrive off stress, and he’s already had plenty of that so far.

almost immediately does your touch have him redirecting his notice towards you. his intense gaze softens at your pretty eyes studying him. his broad shoulders gradually relax in your embrace. he’s visibly calmed by the simple act, much to ada’s amusement — and her vexation. her fingertips dig into her palms, wishing it was your hands beneath them instead.

“ada, why are you really here?” you inquire, and she’s pleased when you finally set sights back on her. she’s not fond of the questioning, however. she purses her lips. her expression morphs into a cautious neutral. you’re aware you won’t be getting a direct answer, no matter how much she likes you.

ada sighs, “oh, sweetheart. you know i don’t work and tell.”

guarded, she saunters to the opposite end of the room to the very window she slithered in through, overlooking the bleak scenery with little interest. you slip past leon to follow after her, grasping her fingers to keep her from going any further. pleasant warmth seeps through from your fingertips to hers. there’s no time to relish it, although she longs to feel more. calculating eyes regard you and you alone.

“leave the girl,” demands ada. “she’s lost no matter what. you walk away now…and who knows? maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

keeping her eyes locked on yours, she brings your hand to her lips, and presses a languid kiss across your knuckles. a stain of red now marks you as hers. play glimmers in her irises. “…maybe i’ll even take you on that date i promised.”

“you think we’re gonna give up that easy?” leon’s voice cuts in, weighed with barely contained venom.

“right.” ada exhales a laugh. how true. the two of you really are perfect for one another. hearts of gold, heads full of dreams. she turns towards a silently seething leon, whose eyes pierce her every move. he does a poor job at hiding his envious glare towards your entwined hands. “how about we continue this discussion another time?”

she drops your hand unceremoniously, in favor of pressing a kiss to your cheek. the pulse of your racing heart is nearly tangible. such a sweet girl, flustered by a simple kiss. longing parts her lips in their journey up to your ear to whisper, “stay safe, beautiful.” she pulls away with an air of nonchalance, committing to memory the clear look of shock she’s frozen you into. it takes all she has not to go back in for another kiss, for there’s no knowing where her lips will land if she does.

“keep her safe for me, will you, leon? she’s really quite precious, you know.”

and just like that, she’s gone.

you nearly stumble towards the creaking window for a vain glimpse into the night she’s disappeared through. half shocked, half mortified of your audience still gaping at you, you could only hope he wasn’t put off by the instance of his flirty adversary. or the fact you had no quarrels in encouraging her.

a hand wraps around yours, warm and tight.

“careful. leaning out a little too far there, don’t you think?”

leon sounds rather relieved now that it’s back to being the two of you. ada must’ve been a sore sight for whatever reasons he’s held within. you avoid his eyes to recollect yourself, murmuring apologies beneath your breath.

then, a touch upon your cheek, the very one she’d kissed, puts a stop to all thoughts. your eyes flutter up towards leon’s. his usually somber expression has turned sour, scowling and scorned in a way you’re unfamiliar with. his hand cups your face, thumb frantically rubbing off what must be a lipstick stain ada’s left behind. the intensity of his eyes only adds to your embarrassment, makes you wish he hadn’t seen her in the first place. maybe then he wouldn’t be upset, angry with the ghost of her presence.

“here i thought luis would be my only problem.” leon mutters, so softly you’d mistaken he’d spoken at all. when he notices the shift in your pretty eyes, the sweetsoft concern that struck him weak, his gaze mellows instantly, and he blinks rapidly as if coming out of a daze. rose pink springs across his face in a blooming blush, a bigger surprise than his supposed anger. he rips his hand away upon realizing himself, leaving you curious.

“i mean—i meant, she’s the last person i expected to run into here. it’s—it’s a long story. won’t bore you with it. just know she’s probably not worth trusting completely. it’s best you’re careful around her. i’d hate…i wouldn’t want you hurt.”

his voice goes quiet at the end. his head is turned away, body tight and tense, hands fiddling with the holsters of his weapons. it isn’t like leon to speak so personally. so openly about his emotions. and you know it isn’t because of ada’s mere presence, what must be a recollection of the past.

you touch your cheek, still warm from his skin.

“you’re the one i trust, leon. we came here together, and we’re leaving together. i’m with you until the end.”

courage overtakes bashful notions. you close in beside him, reach up to push a lock of his hair behind his ear. cup his shying face, a tender encouragement to share his vulnerability with you. leon’s eyes fall back on yours too easily, too swiftly for a simple friendship. you see it; he is incapable of masking it.

it’s somewhat of an honor he’s so fond of you. it’s a reminder to be gentle with his feelings, though you yourself may not have yours sorted out just yet. but it is ascertained that you care immensely for him, perhaps in the way he’d like you to. perhaps not. there’s plenty of time to work things out.

“i’m with you, ace.” you smile, tugging his cheek until he returns one of his own. “there’s no one else i’d rather have beside me. got it?”

leon nods, convinced. “yeah. thanks.”

you pay a playful pat to his cheek, satisfied with his answer. “good, good. now, why don’t we get moving? we wouldn’t want to keep miss ashley waiting. what were we even looking for in the first place? some kind of key?”

the mention of the mission reinvigorates him. “yeah, exactly. should be somewhere around here, if you can help me look.”

“sure! let’s just hope we can get by without someone interrupting again.”

“wouldn’t that be nice.” scoffs leon, slipping his fingers through yours to lead you back towards the other half of the room. this habit of wanting you close was really too cute. willingly do you allow him to take your hand as he pleases.

all the while you will your heart not to flutter at the lipstick still staining the other, red on red alike.

[marvelobsessed134]

I’m not that innocent

A/n: Set around the events of Iron Man 2. Instead for Natasha spying on Tony, you will take her place. (Love Nat tho don’t get me wrong). This has been sitting in my drafts for *ehem* about 500 years but here it is :)

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, getting caught (not sexually), degradation, reader goes by a undercover name for a short amount of time, reader doesn’t get to cum lol, and I think that’s it let me know if I forgot anything.

Summary: Tony catches onto your act

This mission was simple enough. Go undercover as Tony Stark’s assistant to collect information on him for Nick Fury. Originally your friend Natasha was supposed to go on this mission but unfortunately she got sick with the flu so Fury asked you to take over.

You were nervous since Tony is a powerful CEO, literally Iron Man, and he’s mega hot. But you knew you had to set aside your personal feelings to successfully get this mission done. The CEO was obviously flirty with you, and you couldn’t help but be a little flustered. Everything was going according to plan until one day.

You were caught bent over in his office, looking through one of his file drawers when you heard a door open, close and lock. A grunt filled the room. You quickly looked up to see non other than your target. Standing there like a deer in the headlights, you just stared back at the older (and albeit larger) man.

“What do you think you’re doing Missy?” Tony asked as he slowly started to stalk towards you. “Just looking for these files that Pepper wanted.” You tried to easily make up a lie.

“That’s interesting because Pepper left early today.” Ah, shit. You are so cooked.

“Oh! Um, sorry must’ve slipped my mind um-“

“What were you doing sifting through my private files?”

Quick, Y/n, say something! Your mind shouted at you. But really, what excuse were you supposed to use now? Especially since he called your bullshit on your first one. Without even having to say anything, Tony spoke up, “I have a feeling you’re not really an assistant. You work for SHIELD is that right?” Okay, how the fuck did he get that spot on?

It must’ve been written all over your face because he said, “Yeah, I’ve had an inkling for awhile. I bet your name isn’t really Holly Brooks. What’s your real one?”

You were too scared and stunned to speak and so the raven haired man lifted your chin with his index finger and said in a lower tone, “I said, what is your real name?”

You gulped, “Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“That name suits you far better than Holly does. And because you’re so pretty, I’ll let you out of this office and I can forget you ever did anything.” You looked at him with a surprised but hopeful expression.

“But you’re gonna have to earn it, sweetheart.”

“Earn it? How?” You had an idea of what this “earning” would entail and it made your panties damp.

“I think you know what I want.” He said cockily before pushing the file drawer closed and walking to his desk chair before sitting down in a leaning position. “Get on your knees pretty girl.” You were quick to obey, getting on your knees as you looked at him with doe eyes.

“You gonna undo my pants or what? Are too much of a dumb spy to not know how to suck cock?” His degrading words sent you spiraling and you let out a quiet, “Sorry sir.” Before buckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down allowing his large cock to spring free. Your eyes widened at the size and the tip already leaking of precum. You did wear a revealing outfit today, a white blouse with the first three buttons undone to show your black lacy bra, and a shirt black pencil skirt with just your matching panties under it. Maybe you were waiting for this moment…

You took his cock in your hand and began to jerk him off before taking the tip in your mouth and sinking down his length. “Oh fuck.” Tony hissed as you began to suck him off, bobbing your head up and down and jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The older man gripped your hair roughly and started to control your movements, using your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.

“Such a slut, you like this don’t you? I know you’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you staring at me a couple times with those fuck me eyes.” He groaned out, enjoying the way tears filled your eyes as you helplessly sat there on your knees being used by him.

“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker? I’m gonna have to keep you around.” His words made your brain short circuit and encouraged you to lick him and help him get to his finish while he was using your mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum. You better take it all or I swear to god-“ The CEO cut himself off when he released his seed into your mouth and down your throat, you swallowed it all and he pulled you off his dick, leaning your head back to look at you. Your mascara was messed up, your face was wet from tears, and your eyes were blissed out.

“Such a pretty girl. Could’ve treated you real nice, taken you out to dinner before I take you home and destroy that little cunt. Too bad you have to be a whore.” His tone was so condescending and somehow that made it better.

“Get up.” Tony commanded and let go of your hair. You stood up and watched him rise as well, taking his blazer jacket off and loosening his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and fully getting rid of his pants. He grabbed you and pushed you against the side of his desk, kissing you hungrily. You kissed him back, hands wandering his sculpted body like it was the best thing you’ve ever put your hands on.

The raven haired man ripped your white shirt open and roughly pulled the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts, letting them pop out effortlessly. He tweaked and played with your nipples, spitting on them, sucking them, making you moan and squeal in the overwhelming sensation.

Then he pulled your skirt up roughly, and cupped your clothed core, “So fucking wet. Just from sucking my dick? Or was it being naughty and getting caught doing something you shouldn’t have been doing? Which is it?”

“Both.” You answered obediently and honestly.

“Fucking slut.” He huffed before ripping your panties off which caused you to gasp but you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth when he turned you around and bent you over as if you were nothing.

He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before lining up his cock to your dripping entrance. As he gripped your hips he slowly pushed in making the two of you moan. Oh god, you thought to yourself, his employees can probably hear this. They think you’re just another one of his conquests. In way, you are.

“Oh fuck! So fucking tight!” Tony growled as he began to thrust and fuck into you faster and harder slapping your ass occasionally. “Such a bad girl, thinking you can tease me all day, make me hard in meetings, just to try and fucking spy on me,” he scoffs, as if the whole situation was pathetic, “but now I have my cock deep your pussy so, at least one of us is winning.” He continued to fuck you senseless, your hands gripping the edge of the desk. You couldn’t hide your moans and cries as the CEO repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You cried.

“Yeah? Do you think you deserve it? After all you did?” Tony grunted.

“Yes! Please let me cum! I’ve been such a good girl so far!” Your cries and pleads were pathetic. You were pathetic, Tony thought. And god was he having the time of his life.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to edge and said, “Yeah, I don’t think so.” And pulled out of you before shooting his cum on your ass.

You whined at the loss of contact and orgasm making him laugh and say, “If you want to cum, you have to let me take you out to dinner. And get rid of any files you might have stolen from me digital and physical copies.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

question, have you written anything about ian's avoidant attachment?? i just dont really see anyone mention it even though its a big part of his character

i’ve said things about it off and on but i’ve never really talked about it in depth, but i’ve been wanting to post more so i’m gonna take this as an opportunity to:)

i do think it’s strange that nobody talks about it because as you said, it is SUCH a big and important part of his character. even in season one minor things like him running upstairs when people tried to help him with his broken nose or bigger things like running away from the chaos at home to go see mickey. the way fiona acted when he left also indicates it’s a common occurrence. ian always runs away. we even hear stories about him running away as a kid, specifically from his foster home with carl (there was probably abuse going on, but still, he runs away from conflict frequently and later on we see he can’t commit).

a lot of ian and mickey’s relationship early on wasn’t like how it ended up being, where ian runs. instead it was mickey always running, and we all know why- fear. i think he was trying so hard to keep mickey because he really was in love with him but also because he was so used to being left or being treated like garbage, and he didn’t want that. then obviously, season three he leaves, and the mania contributes for sure but i definitely think a big part of it is again, his tendency to run away. fiona even says, “he’ll be back when he’s back” (which i hated), but again it kind of proves he runs a lot. this time he just ran further and didn’t return for months.

anyway, ian’s avoidant attachment becomes more prevalent around the season five break up, which i could talk about for days because i feel like ian’s perspective isn’t talked about as often. but one of the reasons that he leaves is because they love each other and he doesn’t want mickey to be stuck with him, he can’t commit to this and he doesn’t want to drag mickey down with him. after this we see his struggles with commitment more often, visiting mickey in prison is a pretty good example, which is also something i’ll never really hate ian for. he tells svetlana that he doesn’t want to go because he’s done with that part of his life, he wants to leave everything behind him. when mickey shows him that he tattooed ian on his chest and asks him to wait years for him, it’s a big commitment, which ian is afraid of. he even states in season ten his parents contributed to this fear. he’s never known much about commitment, his parents could never commit to him, the men he fucked never commited to him, and mickey did, but it scares ian away.

season seven is pretty obvious, also. trevor wants a relationship and that also scares him away, and there were definitely other levels to it, but i’ve always viewed his hesitance for another relationship as a part of that. trevor wants commitment, ian isn’t good at that; and it shows when he runs off with mickey (after saying he’s staying and won’t do that). when ian and mickey talk while stargazing the night before mickey goes over the border, i could tell ian wasn’t going to go with him. mickey asks if ian ever thought of him, and ian says he did, but his demeanor to me always still seemed anxious. he realizes this is a big decision, and while he’s already made a lot of big commitments doing this whole thing with mickey, i feel like that’s when he realized. mickey’s leaving behind nothing, but ian’s leaving behind everything. his family, his job, trevor, probably even his stability. i don’t think i even need to talk about him leaving mickey at the border, because again, it was unsurprising and caused by fear and fear only. love was never a factor, and i think mickey must’ve known that.

there’s other examples within the next two seasons, like how he grieved, him hiding from the cops and running away after dyeing his hair black, but it’s always the most obvious when he’s in a relationship with mickey, because their attachment styles contradict each other. knowing he’s getting released on parole was a big thing, because to me, it was apparent he didn’t want to leave but also couldn’t wait to. his whole thing with mickey where he screams “i wanna be where you are!” and mickey responds with, “you don’t get to be.” was a big thing and showed a change in ian’s relationship with attachment. he was willing to throw his whole parole for mickey. it was growth. the marriage license is a whole other thing.

10x08/10x09 are pretty important episodes to me looking at it from ian’s perspective. he does love mickey and that should never be questioned, in fact, it irritates me when people imply he doesn’t, but he was afraid. the way his hand hovered over the paper was fear, and in 10x09 it all goes back to 5x12. ian’s bipolar, he doesn’t want mickey stuck with him. i think in the courthouse he did a good job of explaining why he didn’t want that. frank and monica had so many weddings and he’s watched so much shit go down, and he’s no stranger to being compared to monica. in season nine he states he doesn’t know who he is anymore, and i feel like he’s struggled with that for a while. he ends up marrying mickey, but there was so much trauma and fear he had to push past to do so. he asks mickey how he knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life with ian and everything that comes with ian, and obviously mickey is fine with all of that, he loves ian, but ian isn’t sure. like i said, he’s been left so many times and he’s seen what his disorder did to his mother, he’s seen frank and monica’s relationship, and he’s scared. debbie even tells him this. that’s why i felt like his whole promise thing made sense, it symbolized commitment, he tells mickey he can commit, but mickey doesn’t buy it (and i don’t blame him). he learns he has to marry mickey, he has to commit, he has to say vows. and he does, and the whole monogamy conversation further proves he’s still learning and trying to overcome everything.

i dont know if i even answered that question or not and just rambled, lol, but i tried😭😭

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Family Ties

Read it on Ao3

Tails slid the rental skates off his feet.  They were just a bit too small.  He’d have to ask Mom to get another pair.  That was probably okay, though.  She had said to let her know if the size was wrong.  It wouldn’t annoy her if it wasn’t.  Probably.

He looked up and watched as she handed Knuckles his own pair of skates.  Tails noticed right away that the skates had laces.  Knuckles looked at them and Tails could practically hear him thinking ‘what am I supposed to do with these?’  He looked between her and the skates and back, but she was sitting down and pulling on her own.

Knuckles looked out at the rest of the skaters and Tails did too. There were only a few other families (who were obviously trying not to stare at them), but as far as Tails could see, everyone else's skates had laces.  But there must’ve been non-lace shoes, right?  Mom had just accidentally gotten the wrong kind for Knuckles too.

Tails watched closely.  If Knuckles pointed out the mistake, he could probably tack on that he needed different skates as well.  He felt more comfortable with that.  Knuckles opened his mouth to say something when–

“Sonic, wait!  You have to switch your shoes first!”  Mom got up and hobbled off wearing only one skate.

“I wanna see if I can run in place on the ice!”

“I think you’re just as likely to run right into the side of the rink.” Dad steered Sonic away from the ice.

“Aw, come on.  Just one lap?  I’ll go so fast they won’t even see me–”

It looked like this was going to wind up being a debate, Tails thought.

Knuckles watched them, fiddling with one of his backpack straps.  That had been a debate too.  Mom was worried if he carried the Master Emerald out on the ice he’d fall and hurt himself landing on it.  Knuckles refused to leave it behind or even far out of sight.  In the end, she’d allowed him to carry it in a backpack in exchange for him giving in to their other debate: whether or not he should wear a coat.  (Tails didn’t mind having to wear his own jacket and scarf though, it was chilly here and he didn’t have his winter fur yet.)

Knuckles glanced his way.  He watched as Knuckles’ eyes slid down to the skates in Tails’ hand.  At least they were in this together.  Maybe they could solve the problem together too.

Tails hopped down from the chair, sliding his shoes back on.  “Um… I’m going to get some different skates,” he said before he could overthink it.  “Do you want me to ask for snap shoes for you?”

Knuckles scowled and stood.  “I can ask myself,” he grumbled.

But Knuckles let Tails lead the way from the stands back up to the rental counter.  Which was weird.  Usually it was Tails following as Knuckles loudly declared to the cashier: ‘My brother requested NO pickles!’  Instead, Knuckles kept looking around, which made Tails feel like he had to look around too.  One thing he noticed: no one was wearing snap skates.

Tails hated talking to cashiers or… any customer service kind of person.  It made him anxious.  But since Knuckles was being weirdly quiet, it was up to him to do the talking.

“E-excuse me,” he asked, standing on his tip-toes to see over the counter edge.  “Can we swap lace skates for some snap skates?  And switch sizes?”  He set his skates on the counter.  He hoped that was okay.

Humans always either acted like Tails was some weirdo freak… or that he was really cute.  The guy behind the counter smiled real wide and Tails knew that here it was the latter.

The clerk leaned over the edge of the counter so Tails could step back and didn’t have to stand on his toes.  “Hey, little guy!”  He said in a candy-sweet voice.  “You said you want ‘snap skates’?  What’re those?”

“Oh, um… you know… like snap shoes?”

The clerk looked confused.

“Um… button shoes?  They’ve got little magnets in them?”

Now he looked even more confused.  Tails hadn’t expected this.  He glanced back at Knuckles.

“I think they do not have any,” Knuckles said.  “It is alright.”

Tails wrung his hands, his tails twisting around each other.  That wasn’t right… Knuckles never gave up when Tails said he’d just wipe off the pickle juice.  Tails couldn’t give up now!  He turned back to the clerk.  “Aren’t there any skates without laces?”

“Oh, like velcro?  Sure, little guy.  What size do you need?”

Both of them perked up at that.  Tails looked excitedly back at Knuckles.  His big brother stepped forward, holding up his laced skates.  “I require an adult human male’s ‘size twelve’.”

“Oh.”  The clerk leaned back and looked at Knuckles in surprise.  He wasn’t giving him the ‘I think you’re a freak’ look, but he definitely didn’t think Knuckles was cute either.  “Uh… sorry, man, we only have velcro skates in kid sizes.”

Knuckles’ shoulders slumped along with Tails’.  “Um… you don’t have any other kinds of no-lace shoes?”  Tails asked.

Knuckles had already turned and walked away before the clerk could finish apologizing again.  Tails wavered between following and staying to mind his manners and thank the man before he remembered he needed to switch his own skates.  As soon as he had the new size he hurried back to the stands, feeling extra aware of all the strangers glancing his way.

Knuckles was sitting with the family again, his skates on the floor beside him.  He watched Mom watch Sonic tie his skates.  “Remember to get them good and tight,” she said.  “It’ll hurt your ankles if they’re loose.  And tuck the extra string into the lower straps–yeah, like that–that way you won’t accidentally trip on them!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it Mom.”

Dad looked up from tying his own laces and saw Tails standing there holding his skates.  “You need help, bud?”

“Oh!  No, I’m okay.”  Tails hopped up to sit next to Knuckles and pulled off his shoes.

He thought Knuckles would ask for help.  Or… more likely Mom or Dad would offer.  But Knuckles didn’t say anything and–

“Last one on the ice is a rotten egg–and it’s even a fair fight ‘cause I cannot run in these things!”  Sonic yelled.

“Hang on, let me put my purse in our locker.”

“Should we put our shoes in there?”  Dad asked.

“Oh yeah!”  Sonic said.  “I was just hearing on the news about this ‘Stinky Shoe Bandit’!  Better be careful, Dad!”

“I doubt anyone is going to steal anybody’s shoes.  And even if they do, we can always buy new shoes!  But my wallet is definitely getting put away.”  Mom hobbled off toward the lockers and Dad hurried to follow Sonic.

Nobody remembered to check on Knuckles.

Tails stared down at his socked feet and the skates with their long, skinny laces.  He realized with mounting dread that he might need to offer Knuckles help.  Knuckles!  He was good at pretty much everything… except anything to do with technology.  But other than that, he could do anything!  Except… he couldn’t tie laces. 

But some species just weren’t built for stuff like that!  Their fingers were too short or their claws too long or they had webbed fingers or… whatever!  The point was it happened plenty on other planets and there were usually other options available.  Apparently not here though.  Here, it looked like it wasn’t something people really thought about.  Maybe that was why Knuckles was being so quiet… across the galaxy, people would look at his mitts and his snap shoes and know.

Here Knuckles had to admit he needed help.  And he never needed help.  He was the one who gave help.  That’s probably why Mom and Dad hadn’t thought to offer… and why he wasn’t asking now.  And why he’d probably just get annoyed with Tails if he tried to help.

His conflicted thoughts must have shown on his face.  “What is wrong?”  Knuckles asked.

Tails looked up in surprise.  “Uh…”  A perfect lie suddenly hit him.  “I need help!”

Knuckles perked up.  Always ready to assist.

That thought had Tails plucking up his courage.  “Tying these skates is kind of tricky…” he said.  “Could I practice with you first?”

“Oh.”  Knuckles frowned slightly.  Tails could see the gears turning in his head.  Was tying skate laces really that much different from shoelaces?  After a second, Knuckles shrugged.  He didn’t know enough about tying laces to call Tails’ bluff.  “You may practice on me,” he said.

Tails hopped down from his seat, breathing a subtle sigh of relief.  Knuckles snapped the magnetic tops off his shoes and pushed them aside with his foot.  Then pulled on his skates.  Once they were on his feet, he stopped and looked up at Tails.

“L-leave it to me!”  Tails replied, standing up straight and proud before he knelt down and got to work cinching the laces.

He pulled the strings tight around Knuckles’ ankles just like Mom had said.  “How’s that feel?” He asked.  “Too tight?  Too loose?”

Knuckles rolled his ankle a little.  “It is sufficient,” he said.

Tails got back to it.  It was a little weird tying shoelaces from this side of the shoe.  Plus Knuckles was watching him like a hawk the whole time.  Tails had to restart once, which probably helped sell his lie that he needed practice.  He managed to get the first skate tied before there was a loud thump! on the dasher boards across from their seats.

“Wait, Knuckles, is Tails tying your shoelaces for you?”  Sonic cried as his face popped over the top of the boards.  “Oh my god… can you not tie your shoes?!”

Knuckles’ quills bristled.  “Of course, I can!”  He said too quickly and too loud.  He was such a bad liar.

“Wait, what?”  Dad asked as he came up behind Sonic.

“It is nothing,” Knuckles said at the same time as Sonic announced:

“Knuckles can’t tie his shoes!”

“He can’t?”  Oh dear, Mom was back too.

Knuckles crossed his arms with a huff.

“You can speak like a billion languages but you can’t tie your shoelaces?”

Knuckles gave Sonic a dirty look, but before he could say anything, Tails piped up:  “That’s not nice, Sonic!”

He immediately wilted as his whole family looked at him in surprise.  Oh gosh… he’d scolded Sonic!  He’d just been so surprised that Sonic would tease Knuckles about something he couldn’t change… But of course now he thought about it, Sonic grew up around humans.  He probably thought it was a ‘knowing’ issue and not a mechanical one.

Ears folded against his head he dedicated his full attention to tying Knuckles’ laces as quickly as possible.  If he’d looked up he would’ve seen the very pointed look Mom was giving Sonic.

“Uh… okay, point taken.  Um.  Sorry, Knux?”

Knuckles just let out a grunt.  He was done with this conversation.  But Mom wasn’t just yet:

“I’m sorry too, honey.  I should’ve checked if you needed any help.”

“I don’t need help,” Knuckles said.  “Tails was only practicing his lace-tying skills on me.”

“So… Do you know how to tie laces?”  Sonic asked.

“Do you know how to shut up?”

“Okay, neither of you two talk to each other until Tails has his skates on,” Mom declared.

Oh gosh… Tails wasn’t sure if that put pressure on him to go fast or slow.  He tied them quickly, just in case.

“Fine!”  Sonic huffed and disappeared over the boards once more.

“Fine,” Knuckles grumbled.  He stood from the chair.  And nearly fell over.

“Oh, careful!”  Mom sounded like she was trying not to laugh as she grabbed his arm and helped him stand upright.

“These are hard to walk in!”

“Yeah, they’re not really built for walking in, but they’re perfect once you’re on the ice!”  Mom knelt and checked the lacing on Knuckles’ shoes.

“Good job, bud,” she said to Tails.  She checked Tails’ laces too.  With her back to Knuckles she met Tails’ eye and whispered.  “Thanks for looking out for your brother.”

Tails flushed under his fur.

“What was that?”  Knuckles demanded.

“I said maybe when we get home, we can all practice tying laces together?”

Knuckles frowned.  “No, thank you,” he said.  He didn’t elaborate further, just crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tails expectantly.

Tails’ eyes flicked between Knuckles and Mom and back.

He didn’t say that Knuckles should explain a bit more to Mom, but he definitely thought it.  Knuckles must have picked up on it; his expression shifted into a scowl.  When he turned back to Mom his mouth was twisted into a grimace.  He held up a mitt.  “These are not really built for tying shoelaces… But they are perfect for punching!  Also digging!  And swimming and climbing too!”  He bumped his fist over his puffed up chest.

“Okay…”  Mom said.  She looked down at Knuckles’ gloves and then her eyes slid to his discarded shoes.

Knuckles must have felt like he’d sufficiently proven echidna capability, because he wibble-wobble-walked off to the gap in the boards with his head held high.

Tails glanced back at Mom and saw her picking up Knuckles’ snap shoes curiously.

“Um… Are you coming, too?”

“Oh, yes. You go on ahead.  I’ll be right there.”

There was a bit of a clog at the rink entrance.  Sonic was taking a little bit of extra time figuring out skating.  He clung to the railing while Dad ran through the basics. Knuckles stood at the threshold, listening in.  Tails came beside him and realized that he couldn’t reach the railing.  Uh-oh.  Well, that was alright.  He could learn without the figurative training wheels.

Knuckles let out an annoyed hum and Tails instinctively cringed.  Was Knuckles annoyed that they’d been caught by Sonic?  That he had to explain himself to Mom?

“You are too short,” Knuckles said.  He grabbed the edge of the baseboard with one mitt and held out the other.  “Hold on to me.”

“Oh… thanks Knuckles.”  Tails took the offered mitt.  Knuckles’ mitt was practically as big as Tail’s whole torso so his hand looked extra teeny tiny in his older brother’s giant fist.  With Knuckles leading the way, they took their first unsteady steps out onto the ice.  It was nice that Knuckles had offered to help.  Made him feel… the opposite of how being scared of annoying him felt.

“Oh, Tails!”  Tom called from where he was trying to get Sonic to stand right.  “Do you want a bucket?”

“What?”  Tails looked up to see another little kid scooting around the middle of the rink, using a stack of upside-down buckets to keep his balance.  The kid was staring at them of course, but a sharp look from Knuckles made him stop.

Tails appreciated the ingenuity of the bucket but… he looked up at Knuckles who looked equally unimpressed with the technique.  “Um… I’m okay,” he said.

“You sure?”  Tom asked.  “The bucket won’t fall down and take you with it.”

“I will not fall!”  Knuckles said, outraged.

He fell immediately.  Then Sonic laughed so hard that he fell too.  Tails avoided the pile-up only because Knuckles let go of him.

“Alright, we will try this again!”  Knuckles said, determined.  “Hold my tail and I can use my arms for balance.”  He turned and pointed his funny crooked tail in Tail’s direction.

“Uh… won’t that hurt if I fall and pull on it?”

“Of course not!” Knuckles boasted.  “The bend is for little ones learning to walk to hold onto!”

“Really?”  Tom and Sonic asked as one.  Sonic’s skepticism was undercut by the way he was slowly and unintentionally doing the splits against the boards.  Tom rushed to rescue him.

“That is what my father said…” Knuckles trailed off like it’d only just occurred to him that might’ve been just a little kid story.  “Regardless, my tail is very sturdy.  Much stronger than yours.  You can pull all you need.”

The little tip wiggled like it was waving to Tails to go on ahead and grab it.  Tails hesitantly took hold.  It felt like a rock covered in bristles… just like all the rest of his brother’s ‘one million percent muscle’ body.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to try again!”  Sonic said.  He pushed forward, moving along with half his usual grace.  Tom kept close to his side, glancing back at Knuckles and Tails and looking around for Mom.

Knuckles took a few experimental steps forward, dragging Tails after him.  

Tails wobbled and bobbed, his tails whipping this way and that as he tried to keep his balance.  Knuckles glanced back at him over his shoulder and he feared for a moment that he was tugging too much.  “You know, you do fly with your tails.  They must be quite strong!  Have you ever tried lifting weights with them?”

“Oh, um…”  Tails' knees shook as he tried to keep his balance.  “I’ve lifted you while flying, does that count?”

And then Knuckles actually smiled!  Tails was so surprised–he could count on one hand the number of times he’d made Knuckles smile.  Distracted, he stumbled and wobbled, trying to keep his balance while his feet kept moving without him.  Even when he thought for sure he would fall, Knuckles’ tail was completely firm and still.

“Lean forward more,” Knuckles said.  “And bend your knees a bit.”

“What he said,” Dad added.  “It helps if you lower your center of gravity.”

Tails thought his center of gravity was easily the lowest in the whole rink, but he did what they said.  It did help.

Knuckles focused his attention on the ice below them, taking smooth, short steps.  Tails watched his feet and tried to move the same way.  Knuckles’ movements became more confident, but Tails was still unsteady.  He looked up at his big brother’s broad back and watched how his dreads swayed from side to side over the back of his backpack,  purposefully shifting his weight with each step.  Tails mimicked his movements, stepping in time with Knuckles.  Immediately his movements felt smoother.  He was getting the hang of it!

Mom skated up beside them.  Like Dad, she didn’t need to hold the wall at all.

Dad looked over expectantly.

“I put Knuckles’ shoes in our locker.”

“Because of the Stinky Shoe Bandit?”  Sonic asked as he did a funny T-pose shuffle across the ice.

“Because I realized his shoes would be harder to replace if someone decided they wanted to steal shoes–”

“Because they’re so stink–”

“Because they’re special shoes from outer space.”

Knuckles puffed up at that.  “My shoes have received a place of high honor!”

Sonic rolled his eyes so hard he lost his balance and had to cling to the wall.  “That’s literally nothing to brag about,” he said.

Knuckles huffed.  “Well then, how about this?”  He let go of the wall and pushed away, skating around Dad and Sonic and pulling Tails after him.

“Woah!”  Tails cried out in surprise and delight.  He hung on tight, keeping his posture like Dad and Knuckles suggested.  Knuckles was going fast enough to blow his bangs back and Tails tummy flipped whenever his balance shifted too quickly.  But it was fun!  Like flying, but even easier!

When he realized Knuckles wasn’t going to return to grabbing the wall, Tails focused on copying his movements.  It was just like dancing with Sonic–all he had to do was follow his brother's lead!  Halfway around the rink, he had it down.

“What the heck, you hadn’t even heard of ice skating this morning!” Sonic said as the two of them passed him a second time.

“I am a fast learner,”  Knuckles gloated without stopping.

“Tell that to our last two microwaves!”

“I cannot hear you because of how much faster than you I am going!”

The third time they passed Sonic, Tails felt confident enough to slowly let go of Knuckles’ tail.  His older brother looked over his shoulder, slowing as Tails came up beside him.  He wobbled a little, but stayed upright.

“You are a quick learner too!”  Knuckles praised.

Tails flushed under his fur.  “Heh, I um… I had a good teacher.”

There was a loud thumping and scuffing sound and they both looked over and watched as Sonic hurried across the center of the rink, pushing an overturned bucket in front of him.  Halfway through he jumped up and sat on top, letting his momentum carry him.

Knuckles and Tails stopped as Sonic drifted to a halt in front of them.  “I have decided,” he said magnanimously.  “Since you two are both so slow off the ice: I will be a gentleman and let you take the W here.”

Knuckles shot Tails a cocky grin.  “Perhaps I should teach Sonic now too.”

Sonic leaned back on his bucket with a frown.  “How come I can’t tease you about the shoelaces, but you can tease me about ice skating?”

Tails suppressed a wince.  Knuckles probably wouldn’t like the reminder.  But Knuckles must have been having too good a time, because he actually answered: “Because my fingers cannot bend that way, but your feet work just fine.”

“Touche.”

“Also I was not teasing that time.  I thought it might be more helpful to receive training from someone more similarly proportioned to you than Tom.”

“‘Similarly proportioned’,” Sonic repeated.  He looked Knuckles up and down then looked at Tails.  “Okay, maybe between the two of you.”

“Tails can help too!”

“I can?”  Tails didn’t think he was that good yet.

“Yes, you are very good at being a helpful brother!”  Knuckles smiled at him and there was a knowing gleam in his eye.  Maybe Tails’ lie earlier hadn’t been that good after all.  But Knuckles didn’t seem mad at all, he actually seemed appreciative!

“Alright, I’ll allow the both of you to help me.  But first!” Sonic tipped his head to the side and Tails followed his gaze to see Mom and Dad skating along the wall, holding hands while Mom showed something to Dad on her phone.

Sonic shifted on the bucket so he was seated squarely and held out both hands.  “You two can pull me!”

“And that will help you learn?”  Knuckles asked.

“Nope, but if you pull me super fast and let go I’ll go flying and it’ll be awesome!  But we aren’t supposed to do it so that means we can only do it once.”

***

“One more picture!  Sonic demanded as they stepped off the ice.

Tails fumbled after him.  It felt weird walking after skating so long!

“One sec!”  Dad said, pulling his skates off.

Mom had already taken lots of pictures (some very sneakily while the three of them had been goofing off on the ice), but she and Dad seemed to be game for any photo opportunity where Sonic would voluntarily stay still.

Sonic was busying himself taking a bunch of silly selfies with the bucket when Tails noticed Knuckles sitting on the bench behind Dad.  The corners of his mouth slipped down as he looked down at his skates.  He probably couldn’t untie his shoes either.

Mom appeared, kneeling by Knuckles’ feet with a smile.

“Let me help you get those off,” she said.

Knuckles’ expression crumpled into a pout and for a second it looked like he was going to insist on doing it himself.  Mom handed him his snap shoes.  “Also here’s these back from the honored locker.”

“Ah!  My shoes return, victorious!”

“What did they win?”  Mom grabbed one of his skates.

“Most important shoes!”

She laughed, undoing the knot and uncinching the strings in quick, smooth motions.  “Dad and I were thinking about getting some hot cocoa, what do you think?”

“I think that I like cocoa.  And it will help to warm you up.”

“Warm me up?”

“Both of you!  You fuss over us to wear these–” he pulled at his jacket “--over our fur when you have no fur of your own!  I worry, you know.”

Mom beamed.  “Thank you,” she said.  “That’s sweet of you to worry.”  She patted his ankles.  “And you’re right, I could use some warming up!  Get your shoes changed and we’ll go get in line!”

Knuckles looked down to see Mom already had his skates undone.  He looked like he’d hardly realized when she’d done it.  Honestly Tails was impressed, but Mom liked to tell stories about vets needing fast hands so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Hey Tails!”  Sonic appeared in front of him, pushing the bucket into his hands.  In a second he was behind him, hands under Tails’ arms, and zooming the both of them over to Knuckles.

“One last picture!” Sonic ordered.  “Us and Bucket Buddy!”

“I agree, we should commemorate Sonic’s noble steed.” Knuckles patted the top of the bucket.  “Thank you for throwing Sonic into the wall.”

“I’m pretty sure that was you.  Using your strength when I said not to–”

“I did not!  It must have been Tails.”

“What?!”

“Alright, I’m ready,” Dad said as he pulled out his phone.

Sonic leaned in on one side as Knuckles leaned into the other.  The air was quite cool but Tails felt very cozy with his brothers on either side.

“Smile!”  Dad said.

And Tails did.

[thebrightsilverlining]

P5X and the Importance of Community

There’s something interesting about how P5X is handling confidants. Obviously, I’ll have to wait until it gets officially localized, but there seems to be a running trend in regards to community.

See, X is different from P3,4, and 5 in that the protagonist did not move before the start of the game. There’s no adjusting to some new environment and meeting a bunch of people there. Wonder has lived here all his life. So making friends isn’t about becoming a part of a new place. Instead, it’s a signifier of Wonder’s change in attitude.

Wonder’s whole deal is that he was just kinda coasting through life. As the lyrics of Ambitions and Visions points out: “Act like I don’t care. Why even bother? That’s what I though then. Just another bluffer.” He was a go with the flow guy who couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort whose bitterness and lack of ambition was the reason why things weren’t going the way he wanted in life. A fact that he didn’t really want to admit.

But that changes when he becomes a Phantom Thief and he begins to actually put effort in and start caring. The whole idea of the Phantom Idols is that Wonder’s connection to the Sea of Souls allows him to see the potential in people. To see who they could be. Meaning he’s learning to shed his previous ambivalence and see people for who they really are and who they could become.

This becomes even more impactful, because he’s not in some new place with new people. He’s in his home, with most of the people having already been living there alongside him. So it’s not a matter of the world changing. It’s his perception of it that changes. It’s him realizing that the people he’d written off are actually pretty amazing.

So one of the confidants is his next door neighbor and his mom’s friend. Someone who was always around but he never bothered to really get to know. It’s his mom’s friend and they’re both old, what could possibly be interesting about that? They probably talk about whatever it is middle aged women talk about. Boring.

Except she’s not. Once he starts paying attention he finds out that she used to be a fashion designer. And she was good at it!? Not to mention those photos of her when she was younger. Who knew that Mrs. Tomiyama was COOL?!

And hey, did you know that she also has a nephew? Yeah, he’s only like a year older than you and he wants to be an actor someday. Gonna star on tv in Featherman and make so many people smile. If you’re getting to know Mrs. Tomiyama you should probably get to know him too. Who knows? You might even become friends.

And hey, what about that girl that’s always helping her father with running the local bar? You must’ve passed her by a million times by now and you’ve never spoken a word have you? Did you know that she wants to be a nurse when she grows up? Or that she’s planning to simply stay home instead so she can take care of her father with his back problem?

Or what about Yaoling Li? Did you even know that a college student from China had moved into the neighborhood? Right next to the Fujikawa residence! You know, where Yukimi lives? She’s your age, why did you never even try to become friends? But maybe it’s time to remedy that, especially if you’re both gonna befriend Yaoling, who is still struggling with the signage at the local market.

It’s all about the community. That community that’s always been there, that you just never bothered to pay attention to. The people so unique and varied, with dreams and aspirations and lives so complex you can barely imagine. That you could get to know, so long as you were willing to put in the effort to do so. And maybe, if you did, you might just find your life is better for it.

It’s a concept I find incredibly interesting, and one I really hope is done well in P5X. Because, if so, it might just be my favorite handling of confidants/social links yet.

[littlemissthunderstorms]

just some lover pt.2

alex turner x reader

aaah its definitely been awaited, here it is, i hope you enjoy! read part one if you haven’t.

p.s. i added two songs for this story, i also included markers near the end of where to start them. it’s obviously optional but i highly recommend listening to them at the right moments because i feel it adds to the emotion

———

‘alex was the one who recommended you’

“what?” you were in a state of disbelief for a moment, brows furrowed. it took you a beat to even grasp and process what it meant, what it could mean. you weren’t quite sure where to start.

you stared nick down. even though the situation was shocking, you believed him. o’malley wasn’t much for pranks like this. your palms gathered a thin layer of sweat, fingers fidgeting with your rings. you stuttered, “why would he do that?”

nick flashed you a knowing look, you know why. your face softened, eyes shimmering under the ember lighting the streetlamp emitted. oh.

the possibilities of his simple request left you all too hopeful, it was the first true glimmer of hope since you and alex separated, sparking in you like a match in a room that had been dark for much too long. your heart soared as your mind raced.

why would alex purposefully recommend you to follow them around on tour if he was over you? doubtfully, you tried to scan your mind for any reason he would’ve wanted you around that doesn’t involve him wanting you back. “wha- what if he did it because he just wants me to make good money? what if he just wants to be friends?”

nick shrugged. “it’s a possibility. but not a high one.” noticing how doubtful you looked, he took a step closer to you. “look, i’m not saying this indefinitely means something, but i’ve seen the way he’s been acting ever since you two have been apart, it’s just not right. it felt like the right thing to tell you.”

a small gust of wind blew through the quiet sidewalk. you shivered in your jacket. noticing your silence, nick spoke up again. “one of our friends is hosting a party later. you should come, we’ve all missed ya.” you returned his soft smile.

———

thirty minutes later and you and nick were making your way through the door, music thumping as the crowd chatted and danced, small fairy lights twinkling across the walls. nicks offer left you hesitant, but you decided it was good to get out of the house for something other than work.

you usually weren’t much for parties when you were younger. you preferred staying home painting or reading, and while you still felt the same from time to time, parties were for the most part nicer in your adulthood.

when you met alex, he introduced you to people who genuinely liked you for who you were, and loved talking to you. this made gatherings much more enjoyable, being able to talk and party with genuinely cool people was much better than being ignored at highschool parties by people your friends talked to.

immediately upon walking through the door, you didn’t recognize anyone there. one of nicks friends pulled him into conversation, offering him drinks and such, which left you alone. you wandered into the crowd some more, hoping to find someone you knew.

as your gaze wandered across the crowd, your heart sunk. you definitely knew the man your eyes laid upon. there, up against the far back wall was alex. it wasn’t necessarily him that made your heart drop, but the girl next to him. your stomach twisted as you watched how she batted her eyes, her palm resting on his chest as she leaned a little too close to his face when she spoke. you couldn’t quite read alex’s face for cigarette smoke had clouded the corner.

nauseated, you turned around and started making your way out through the crowd. it was clear you didn’t belong here anymore. you just wanted to leave. there must’ve been some misunderstanding, it’d left you all too hopeful. no more of this, you thought.

———

two or so weeks had passed. spring was becoming ever so present in the way the leaves started to adorn the trees in vibrant greens, the air now humid and warm. rain pattered on the large, foggy cafe window next to you as your face knitted in concentration at your laptop screen, your friend across from you not ceasing her rambling.

“are you alright?” she questioned mid sentence, taking another sip of her coffee. you sighed, back thumping against the chair as you slumped into it. “yeah, i’m just.. stressed. the bands tour manager emailed me again, i’ve got less than a week to decide if i want to take the offer.” you stared at the email in your inbox, as if staring at it for long enough would help you make a decision.

“well… let’s look at the pros and cons.” she started. “pros, it pays a lot more than your current job and you would have the

opportunity to travel more.”

you crossed your arms. “con, i would see my ex everyday.”

“pros, your ex is the one who recommended you for the job, which has to mean something.”

“cons, it was probably some grand misunderstanding, and it would be insanely awkward seeing him almost everyday.” your friend looked even more annoyed.

“but the money.”

you slumped your head down onto the table.

there were plenty of reasons in your over anxious mind you shouldn’t take the job, but all of them somehow tied back to alex, which you thought was stupid. i mean, why not accept a job that’s ultimately much more suitable for you, and offers more money? besides, the mystery of the boys recommendation lingered, you were aching to see what unfolded upon the acceptance of the offer.

redirecting your attention to your laptop, you clicked ‘new email’, flashing a grin at your friend.

———

it was now a month later, spring was in full bloom and it was the first show of the tour in your hometown. since you took the job, you had only met with the tour manager as well as a few of the other crew members. nick, being one of your good friends, had known you took the job, and was much too ecstatic. knowing he knew, you assumed the rest of the band did too.

even with this in mind, it still felt so stalker-ish knowing you hadn’t spoken a word to alex since the breakup and you were now bound to follow his band around the world on their tour. though you were still mindful of the fact that he had originally put in the request for you to practically follow him around. so, you were in fact, not a stalker.

as this storm of anxiety and reasoning swirled your mind, you wandered backstage, gathering your equipment for the show that took place in an hour or so. the area was desolate, most of the crew was unpacking vans outside and getting things organized for the openers.

as you set down the hefty bag of photography equipment, one of the rather sharp rods sticking out scraped your arm, sending crimson seeping out of a small, but deep wound.

shit. what a fucking stupid way to get hurt.

you held your arm, cheeks flushed as you hissed in pain. “are you alright?” a familiar voice boomed behind you.

you whipped your head around. of course, alex fucking turner. it was almost comedic, like it was out of a movie. of all people, it had to be alex who rounded that corner and saw you hurt. you almost laughed, then you felt like crying, then maybe throwing up.

he looked good, too good standing there in his crisp black t-shirt that hugged his arms ever so deliciously. his hair was all gelled, the sides slicked back with a messy curly quiff laying atop.

you started to get quite flustered, gulping before you spoke. you definitely stared much too long. “no- i um, no.” the boy seemed almost equally flustered, trying to keep his demeanor calm as he neared you. he chuckled. “yeah, doesn’t look like it.”

you were dumbfounded, unsure how to speak. “yikes, looks painful.” you nodded, afraid to speak in worries that you would stutter, or even worse, say something stupid like ‘hey remember when we were lovers and we broke up but now i’m the photographer for your band?’

you took a deep breath, really trying not to think thoughts. the tension was palpable, dodging unspoken words and feelings. alex’s eyes were cautious not to meet with yours. “i’m gonna go get the first aid kit, i saw it earlier.” he flashed you a smile and darted off, leaving you a flustered mess.

one thing led to another and you were now sat down in a fold out chair with alex on his knees in front of you. his brows knitted in concentration as he cradled your arm, gently tending to the wound and wrapping gauze around it. “getting your med degree?” you joked, smiling down at him.

a slight blush creeped upon his cheeks. alex noticed how nervous and giggly you were, finding it a bit adorable as he rolled his eyes, smiling as he shook his head. “nope, i just know my way around a basic first aid kit.” his smile lingered long after, ember eyes flashing up at you in a second, quickly darting back down.

his little comment evoked a similar bittersweet memory. this time, the roles were reversed, you were tending to alex, for one of his guitar strings had snapped and popped out of the bridge pin, leaving a rather deep scratch on his hand. you remembered how he teased you for wrapping his whole hand in gauze, all for a scratch. you’d told him that if he really wanted professional care, he should’ve gone to the hospital. you remembered him shaking his head, telling you he wouldn’t want it any other way.

the flashback left your heart a bit heavy, your hands shaky as alex finished up. the silence was almost bitter, tense. the boy noticed your tremors, subtly sliding his hand down your arm as to brush your fingers with his ever so softly when he pulled away. it was so discrete you could’ve missed it in a blink but sure enough, he’d done it, whether purposefully or not you weren’t sure.

“all done,” he nodded to the bandage. you mustered a grateful smile, fingertips grazing the gauze as so to examine it. once you looked back at alex, his gaze was much darker, more complex, like the sky before a storm. his demeanor shifted, mouth opening and chest rising as to speak but a voice interrupted.

“alex! we need to make sure the earpieces are working, cmon,” a member from the crew called out. he looked back to you, nodding and flashing you a sweet little smile before scrambling off.

you exhaled, noticing how your fingers still tingled from his touch.

———

it was about halfway into the show, all was well. you were having a good time chatting a bit with the other photographers and getting to know more of the crew. the show was electric, the lighting and atmosphere making for the coolest shots. alex even flashed you a little smile when he saw you in front of the stage, making your stomach swirl.

after a quick break, you joined one of your good friends from the crew on the side of the stage with your camera. you clicked a few cool shots of jamie during pretty visitors, loving how the stage lights bathed him in an eerie red.

someone nudged you, catching you a bit off guard. you turned, stomach dropping. it was the girl from the party, the one who’d been all over alex. she only looked at you once she felt your gaze. “sorry,” she shrugged, not a drop of sympathy, or really any emotion at all as she apologized. ‘i bet you are,’ you thought. you didn’t even respond, flashing her a quick smile before you immediately refocused your attention on your camera.

was she his girlfriend? i mean, she was all touchy with him at the party and now she’s backstage at his show? it would be a crazy coincidence for her not to be romantically affiliated with him in any way. this plagued your mood for the rest of the show. you hated the jealousy that coursed through you, it made you feel pathetic. alex wasn’t yours anymore, you kept reminding yourself.

———

two weeks had passed in quite a whirlwind. nothing too eventful had happened, the interactions from your old lover had been sparse. you’d bump into him talking to matt or someone, greet them, and then scurry off. you weren’t getting any answers, any hints from alex. being quite shy yourself, you weren’t confrontational enough to ask him yourself, leaving you longing for any clue from him whatsoever.

what annoyed you even more was his supposed ‘girlfriend.’ catching a mere glimpse of her made you forget what the word feminism even meant. a few nights ago, you’d accidentally bumped into her backstage, being nice and mumbling a genuine apology despite your emotions towards her. the girl glanced at you with the most utterly dissatisfied expression, ignoring you and strutting off, her white heels clacking on the ground. it made your blood boil, clearly she wasn’t much for kindness.

nick didn’t seem to like her much either, says alex’s publicist set them up to ‘promote the album’ or some bullshit. he’d also informed you she was some model from california who co hosted a gossip talk show, which is why she’d be leaving tomorrow, to go back to la. thank god.

now, you and the band resided in london for a week or so, playing three shows throughout that time. nick had invited you to a quaint little jazz bar that wasn’t far from the hotel, apparently the band and a few other friends were going.

different this time- cornelia murr

as you walked in, your senses were immediately delighted. the ever so melodic symphony of jazz filled the cozy atmosphere, warm lamps casting soft, dim light throughout the space. it was adorable, a perfect contrast to the foggy downpour. you eventually caught eye of the boys, eyes shimmering in the light as you walked over to greet them.

everyone looked pleased to see you, even alex, you noticed. his dark gaze lingered, melting over you like honey. he sat on the end of the circle booth, leaving the only free spot next to him. a bit flustered, you slid in right beside the boy, thighs brushing ever so slightly. he looked absolutely to die for, clad in a black turtleneck, his quiff so perfectly messy. he smelled divine too, like musk with notes of amber and wood.

you felt so warm sitting next to him, butterflies swirling your stomach. as the night went on, they didn’t cease. a soft ‘accidental’ brush of the hand, a lingering touch on the waist when he moved to get past you at the bar, it wasn’t enough. you wanted his hands in your hair, his warm body pressed against yours, yet you weren’t willing to admit that to yourself. so when he smiled at you and whispered, “you look nice,” you could no longer ignore the immense need you had for him, the way his ember eyes were all soft, strands of hair falling over his forehead. still, you remained composed, thanking him and redirecting your attention to your drink.

a mixture of emotions muddled your mind. you were lovesick, all over again. just like the first time you’d met him, his hair all short and face all flustered when he tried to flirt with you at that party years ago. now, you gripped your martini glass, looking back at him with the same gaze, that same eager, loving gaze he once adored you with. that same gaze he held when you gave him his number, the way he smiled at you while he added your contact into his phone almost immediately. he was so sweet that night, so eager to get to know you and it made you feel so warm inside, so appreciated. your heart sank, tears threatening to gloss your eyes.

you could barely handle the way your heart tugged, the warmth of the bar suddenly becoming stuffy and claustrophobic. you pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, fiddling with the napkin before you. you thought about how devastated you would be if just a year ago you knew the situation you were in with alex now. the glimmer of hope that resided in your eager heart now dulled. you were starting to believe this would go nowhere. god, you couldn’t believe how foolish you were.

noticing a tear drop onto the napkin directly below you, you quickly excused yourself, sniffling and mumbling something about needing some fresh air. once outside, you slumped against the bricks and let the tears trickle down your face in steady streams. the weather fit your mood, london fog settling over the tops of buildings, light, crisp rain falling in tandem with your tears.

you sighed, almost laughing at how absurd it all was. you felt so stupid, thinking he truly wanted you back, thinking he was calling you back to him. no, surely dreams and hopes plagued your mind, sickening your poor heart with optimism.

you wiped your tears, noticing how mascara stained your fingertips in streaks and flakes of ivory black. the door to the bar suddenly swung open, startling you a bit. alex peeked out, worrisome eyes gazing back at your teary ones. he made his way over to you, hands stuffed in his pockets. “i just wanted to see if you were okay,” he stated, voice soft as he studied your face.

talk by hozier

you weren’t quite sure how to respond, the tears a dead giveaway to your emotions. you just shrugged. his eyes looked dark, complex. if you could see beyond them you might see a ship struggling amidst a stormy sea, thunder booming down across the choppy cerulean waves. if he was the ship in the storm, you were standing at the shore, waiting for a note in a glass bottle, something, anything.

“i guess i just confused myself,” you uttered, voice wavering. alex looked hurt, as if the words spoken were a hit toward him, a dagger shoved in his heart. “how so?” he questioned.

“it’s stupid.”

“please, you can tell me.”

you shook your head. “i guess-“ you looked down, studying the old cobblestones you stood upon. “i think i just got too hopeful.” you felt sick to your stomach, gulping to put your shaky voice at ease.

he stepped towards you, whispering your name. “look at me, please.” you did so, his eyes twinkling back at yours, strands of damp hair sticking to his forehead. “i’m confused too.” you furrowed your eyebrows. he continued. “i’m confused to why i just lost the love of my life.” his face was now mere inches away from yours. he spoke like he was almost mad, voice laced with emotion, barely above a whisper.

your heart hammered in your ears, the tumultuous swirl of thoughts being ignored momentarily, focusing on nothing but his voice, his eyes, the way his hand now lightly held your chin. “i’m confused to why she’s been in front of me all this time and i haven’t fucking done a thing. i’m confused to why i’m looking at her crying before me right now, how i let this happen.”

your breath hitched. he continued to speak. “i’m confused to why i haven’t told her i still love her, that i never once stopped.” he laced his fingertips in your hair, warm hand cradling your face. you were at a loss for words, no ability to string words together in a sentence that could possibly begin to convey how you felt.

so instead, you pressed your lips to his.

———

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR READING!! this is the last part, but i’ll probably write a little epilogue type thingy. hope you enjoyed my loves, sleep tight.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t @kennedy-brooke

[anderscim]

well, now that the first (and second, but i wrote this before seeing the second) episode of chapter 2 part 2 is out, there is one major thing i should address:

✦ what the fuck, david?

// spoilers for DRDT up to ch2 ep12 + implied tally5 spoilers

is there much else i can say here, honestly?

as you can probably tell already, this is more of a reaction post than anything.

i'm simply just... kinda surprised by some of David's actions here. especially regarding his view with Xander. saying that he’ll “do anything to follow in Xander’s footsteps” (paraphrased) even if it means stooping down to the lowest of lows for it, insisting that Xander was a good person, even claiming that his attempt to kill Teruko (and the rest of the class) might’ve been justified… it's almost as if more than anything, David holds Xander to what's nearly a position of worship. i knew from the start that David idolized Xander to some extent, but i never expected it being this… intense. it’s kinda as if he doesn’t see Xander as human, you know?

but do you know what finally makes sense now as a result of David’s behavior?

…

that’s right. tally fucking 5.

or more specifically, the text under the image. i won’t show it to you guys, but most should hopefully know what i’m talking about. (*･ω･)ﾉ (if you don��t, feel free to send me a DM and i can help you there!)

//spoilers for tally5

• • •

firstly: it’s (as far as this episode goes) very true that David idolizes Xander to all ends—and seems to have a vague idea about his goal in ending the killing game (or at least, killing Teruko). and that because of this, David himself took action to follow that goal, even if it meant looking like a “villain” to the rest of the cast. (the reason he told Teruko after that was definitely made up on the spot, but his sentiments about Xander when he was starting to explain why he acted the way he did were—as far as i’m aware—quite genuine).

secondly: he couldn’t understand what Xander’s true plans were, or the exact reason behind his attempt to kill Teruko, but he holds Xander to such a morally correct standard that he… pretty much concluded that he must’ve had a justifiable reason behind it. (and so far, we know that Xander had a reason at the very least. it’s unknown if it was justifiable, but it definitely is a reason.)

thirdly: well, i think this is self-explanatory.

pay attention to how David says “it’s an action that you have to take.” almost as if it was an obligation for him, and that he couldn’t have done anything else.

fourth…ly? this is just something very clearly implied within the LGI MV—the drosophila, the albino mouse, and other elements used show that David more or less sees himself as a “model organism” and not exactly as a true human in its actual meaning. his pessimistic and cynical view of the world (as we saw from ep11—even if he did exaggerate it a bit in his theatre-kid heel-turn, i think he still believes it to be true) adds to this even more—if even humans can’t change, David definitely wouldn’t be capable of ever becoming human in the first place.

5. that’s why footnote 13 is associated with correctness. because no matter what happened, David will believe that Xander was a good person. he will continue to believe that what Xander did was right. and it will take him a while, if it even happens, for him to view Xander as an actual fellow human being, not as a idol of morality who was always correct.

———

obviously, this is more of a reaction that i just casually wrote at 3am, so not everything is really polished. also, who knew i’d talk about the LGI MV again? or tally5? wow, i’m really getting some nostalgia here.

i don’t even know if i fully agree with some parts in here. (-_-) but hopefully, this helps get my point across.

as always, take this with a grain of salt.

[vvishes]

ORDER 001 !

you (an indie streamer), the xsoleil boys and nina met up for an off-collab cooking stream and the boys are pretending to not know how to cook so you can help them out !

ft. doppio dropscythe, hex haywire, ver vermillion x afab!reader (nina is there too)

99% sugar - added crack too ! this will generally be a fluffy and funny post. that 1% is for ver’s part btw.

warning - just ,, funny

a/n - thank you @lonelysimpfor2dmen for the dm request ! i had fun writing this , especially on ver’s part. i hope you enjoy it <3

i am writing for the vtuber’s persona and model, not for the real person behind the screen.

it was all quite random timing for the guys in xsoleil and nina to have an off-collab with you , but you did agree that it was one of the funniest experiences to ever occur in your life.

the stream was taken place in your apartment, and you started streaming as if it was a regular cooking stream — all on your own.

plenty of people started tuning in to your stream as you were explaining what you’d be cooking and that you were waiting for a delivery to arrive.

your chat was flooded with suspicion that you weren’t actually going to cook, and instead having food be delivered to your door, but little did they know they were absolutely incorrect.

the doorbell started ringing and it was audible for chat as well.

“oh, that must be the delivery. i’ll be right back, chat !” and you ran off to the door. the chat kept filling the chat box with joking remarks, and some were speculating a special guest.

It must be a burger..

SPECIAL GUEST IKZZZZ

👀👀👀👀👀👀

chat heard footsteps walking back to the stream setup however they didn’t hear the usual sweet voice from you. it was many voices, from something that would come out of a chaotic streamer. a voice then came up rather close, dangerously close to the mic and started babbling random words.

“hey guys, i hope you like.. don’t mind us joining the stream,” the voice mumbled in a calm, smooth tone. the chat started connecting the dots and realised that the voice was actually ver. so if ver was there, that must’ve meant that doppio and hex would’ve been there too.

XSOLEIL ??

TSKRR VER

VER OMGGG ‼️

a mature, feminine voice joined in the conversation. it was indeed fox mum, nina. chat became nothing but chaos as you and the others proceeded to explain what was going to happen during the stream.

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE ;

doppio .. doesn’t actually know how to cook

so obviously he’s going to need help from you

and god , he was a mess

babbling heaps …

if you got mad at him he’d pout at you and give you puppy eyes

nina thinks it’s adorable of piopio to act like this

she senses things too

but of course , she won’t say that on stream

“…[name], how do you do this part of the recipe ..?”

you turn from the stovetop to face doppio who is pointing at the directions on the sheet of paper. your eyebrows furrow.

“don’t you think it’s quite self-explanatory, doppi ?” you asked, concerned for his lack of cooking skills.

hex walked up to doppio and snatched the piece of paper, reading the instruction carefully. “you don’t know how to seperate the egg yolk from the white ..?”

doppio’s face turned into a shade of tomato red as he slowly averts his gaze from hex. you start to pity him, so you ask nina to look after the stovetop as you go to assist him.

“alright, doppio, watch this. you see the egg ? crack it into the bowl.” you said, switching gazes from the egg to doppio. he looked quite hesitant at first, but after lightly smashing the egg a few times on the counter, he was able to successfully crack it into the bowl. an accomplished smile plastered on doppio’s face.

“yay, you did it, doppi !” you pat his shoulder a few times. chat had also been sending in praises and clapping emojis.

doppio looks at the next set of instructions and gulps. seperate the egg yolk.

you stare at him concerned, but you knew deep inside that he had some sort of potential.

“how do you seperate the egg yolk ?” doppio mumbled.

never mind then.

“alright, you see that egg yolk ? scoop it up, and you use your other hand and do it like this.” you follow the directions you just explained to doppio and the egg white slowly slipped in between your fingers. you placed the yolk in to the appropriate bowl and turn to doppio.

“ta daa ~” you said sarcastically.

“w— hey, not everyone is good at cooking !”

HEX HAYWIRE ;

okay.

we all know this man has super malewife skills

like bro , he can cook , clean

give this guy a maid dress too and he can do all those things in style !

tell him to like bake you a 3-tier cake and he probably would in a time span of like 2 hours (that is short for making a good quality cake)

but … his malewife skills disappeared.

they’re gone

for now at least but they’re gone !!!

everything was going so smoothly for the past 5 minutes of preparing and cooking, where did everything go downwards ? you knew yourself that he is a good cook, the perfect malewife even ! why was he asking how to do things now ?!

“hey, [name], what does this part of the instructions mean ?” hex asked, looking a bit too worried. you glared at him, eyes full of irritation. they dart to the instructions and you were in disbelief.

“you’re joking, aren’t you.”

“no, seriously ! i actually don’t know how to sauté onions !”

ver and nina slowly turned to hex in shock, and so did chat … virtually. you let out a big sigh and reluctantly head over to the stove.

“grab the butter, please.”

“what is butter ?”

everyone pauses. you felt like your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

nina chimes in, “hexy honey, where are your super malewife powers ?”

it wasn’t that audible, but ver was trying to keep in his laugh — he probably knew what was up.

“just get the damn butter, hex.” you said. hex awkwardly walked over to the fridge where the butter was and came back with a block of salted butter.

the rest of the stream was chaos.

VER VERMILLION ;

ver id say is also quite a decent cook

but then again , he wants to see if you can cook too !

he is so sneaky and cheeky about it too

do the right things for him , and he will give you headpats

if agency vtubers were allowed to show their faces , the chat would be spamming ‘tskr’ HEAPS

“[name], you shall receive headpats for helping me so nicely.”

you don’t care about the headpats , you just want ver to do things for himself ,,

“[naa~me] ! can you dice the onions for me ? i need to microwave this.” ver said in a rather polite voice. a hint of mischief could be heard from his tone, which caught on your suspicion.

“alright …” you reply. ver’s eyes glistened like those of a child as he sprinted towards you. catching you off guard, he started to ruffle your hair.

your cheeks turn into a pink-ish red hue as ver proceeded to pat your head. why is he doing this, you thought to yourself.

ver walked over to the microwave and added what ever ingredient he had to microwave.

still startled from the sudden contact, you start to cut the onions — and you started to understand why he gave the job to you.

“GOD, MY EYES STING !” hex started yelling from across the kitchen, and soon enough, everyone could feel the chemicals slowly waft in to their poor eyes. wretched screams filled the room as the nijisanji en members started tasting the bitter rawness of the onions.

but you ? you were in the most pain cutting those onions. man, you wished you declined the request but here you were, tearing up hysterically chop after chop, sending the chemicals straight into your eyeballs.

despite the tears rolling down his eyes, ver let out a soft giggle. he could see the frustration on your face and it satisfied him quite a lot.

“VER ! PLEASE CUT THESE ONIONS I’VE HAD ENOUGH !” you cried (literally), blubbering and begging for mercy — everyone was begging for mercy. but of course, ver wanted to relish the moment as you and the others slowly suffered from onions.

“VEEEER !” you cried even louder, almost a screech.

“no ! chat is enjoying this moment !” and yes, they were. half of them were laughing their asses off, balling their eyes out even ; and the second half, well, they were rather confused in the moment, but they did enjoy it.

© 2022 vvishes ┄ all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, or plagiarise my works. do not repost on other platforms. translations are only allowed with strict permissions.

[strawbeerossi]

See It In Your Eyes

Pairing: fem!reader x Derek Morgan

Description: Derek Morgan is a notorious playboy, not ever thinking of settling down. Until he met Y/N and started hooking up with her.

Content Warning: mention of parent death, mentions of an argument, other than that it’s Derek being cute and nervous, some good quality fluff <3

Word Count: 2.2K

Based on this ask

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

Tagging my bestie: @rainaaaskyy, who has been begging me for a Derek fic since she found out I’ve been writing. Hope you like it. 🫶🏻

Derek wasn’t a man for strings attached, exclusive relationships. He just wasn’t bred for that type of thing. He could barely hold a relationship for longer than 6 months, it just wasn’t something he wasn’t interested in. Getting married, having kids, doing the whole family bullshit.. It wasn’t appealing. He liked his freedom, never being tied to one person for the rest of his life.

His newest fling was Y/N, who worked a simple 9-5 in an office downtown, in the accounting department. She seemed to be into the same thing he was, just having someone around for casual sex as well as that small sliver of companionship before they ultimately ended up getting tired of one another.

The thing was, Derek enjoyed the time he spent with her. The sex was amazing, obviously. In addition to that though, she was truly a gem to be around. She had the best sense of humor, she was a damn good cook, and she just had a warmth to her. Regardless of how she wasn’t the type for relationships, being a bit of a playgirl herself, she did a good job of making a man feel special. Even if he’s just the man of the month.

There were times where he wanted to push her away, tell her to go on to the next man in line. However, part of Derek didn’t want that at all. No, he had dreams of them living in one of his restored houses, a couple of kids running around in the backyard, maybe even a couple dogs. It wasn’t something he was used to at all. Which he assumed was what triggered his flight response, wanting to run off before growing attached to the point that he was a lovesick puppy.

His career was hard on any potential relationships. After all, who wants to be with someone who can leave for days or even weeks at a time? Not really a relationship worth having.

He guessed he was more nervous of the outcome of a situation where he died in the field. He couldn’t imagine leaving behind a child after losing his life on a case. He knew first hand how it felt to lose your father at a young age, thankfully these hypothetical children wouldn’t have to see his demise though.

It was traumatizing to lose a parent at a young age, much less a parent that you loved dearly.

The more rational side of him was well aware that he wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon, so the fear was a bit outlandish. Besides, why did he care about kids when he wasn’t having any right now? Oh my god, Derek is thinking about having kids. He’s getting attached, attached to a woman who matched him in the commitment issues department.

This was a recipe for disaster.

Before the team left for a case across the state, Derek had pulled out an attitude out of nowhere. It was his way of starting to distance himself to escape the inevitable. It was enough to make Y/N show her more emotional side, the woman leaving upset with the slam of his apartment door after demanding him to call her back when he wasn’t acting like an overgrown child.

Derek must’ve been too lost in his thoughts again, his head resting back against the headrest of the jet seat that he’d gotten comfortable in for the ride back to Quantico. Wrapped up in the confusing fantasies of him being married with two children, he didn’t even realise whenever someone was sitting in front of him.

“Don’t tell me it’s S.D.U time already,” JJ commented, now sitting across from Derek who was looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. “S.D… Excuse me?” He asked, throughly confused on what the blonde was getting at. The abbreviation could’ve been too many things, his brain drawing up a blank. Asking Spencer would’ve probably short circuited his circuits, I mean, his brain.

“S.D.U. She doesn’t understand. Yo, she doesn’t understand our schedule. Yo, baby girl, she doesn’t know how hard our job is.” The blonde continued, putting on her best Derek impression while the male let his eyes roll, a chuckle leaving his lips. “I do not sound like that.”

“It’s where you break up with a girlfriend, or more likely, you get her to break up with you.” JJ finally answered his questions and suspicions while leaning back in her seat. “She isn’t even my girlfriend.” Derek pointed out, making her put her hands up in self defense. “Whenever you are with someone every day you are able to, I think it’s safe to say that you aren’t just being casual.” She commented. “I think you’re just too afraid to get attached.”

Profiler JJ held back no punches, damn.

“Are you profiling me?” Derek asked the obvious question while chuckling. “I think I liked you better as our communications liaison.” His tone was teasing as he brought his hands to rest in his lap.

“Hey, I learned from the best.” JJ matched his tone before sighing. “However, I feel like you just need to think this through before you end anything. I mean, the Derek Morgan I know doesn’t usually struggle with his thoughts this much. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

Leave it to JJ to be the voice of reason, the one to make Derek ponder even harder on what he wanted. If he ended it, the fantasy would stop. If he didn’t, the fantasy would persist and more than likely become his reality.

That was when the realization struck him. He loved Y/N. As much as he wouldn’t ever admit it, he did. He began to love her, even if he couldn’t articulate the way he had to admit it, he did feel that deep, unmistakable emotion that drew him to her within the past six months.

Love. Derek Morgan is fucking in love.

The word kept bouncing around his skull, almost like he didn’t know the meaning of it, having to learn what love was all over again in order for it to sink in.

Penelope was gonna lose her mind over this, going to love the very idea of Derek, her chocolate thunder, settling down and actually living a family life, being a husband and a father. The way he would slowly turn from a man who didn’t want children to a man who adored his own children, the stars in his sky.

Even after the jet was landed in Quantico and the team was filing off, there wasn’t a missed beat when David was looking around the group. “I say we go out for a drink tonight to celebrate a successful case with no casualties. I’m buying.” He proposed.

However, Derek was shaking his head as he held his go bag in his hand. “I can’t join tonight.” The words made everyone look over, some in a mixture of shock and others in concern. “Everything okay?” Aaron was asking, catching the tail end of the conversation to hear Derek turning down joining the rest of the team on a night out of celebration.

“I’ve just.. I’ve got things to do, that’s all.” He explained, the best of his ability. However, Penelope Garcia wasn’t gonna let anyone just run away without giving her an explanation. It didn’t surprise him at all when she was hot on his heels as soon as he exited the bullpen. “What’s going on? Derek, are you sick? You know that I can go back with you and make sure you’re okay. Or that if you need go talk that I’ll listen.”

The kindhearted woman wasn’t expecting the next words to come out of his mouth.

“I just need to talk to Y/N. She’s the girl that I’ve been seeing. I have some things to tell her.” His voice trailed off until he felt two hands on his shoulders, his attention down at the blonde who was already firing up. “Do you love her? Derek! You love her, don’t you?! Are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?? Oh, my god! I hope she doesn’t mind sharing you with me because I don’t think-“ Derek was chuckling as his hand was playfully being placed over her mouth.

“Baby girl, chill.” The nickname had the woman smiling as she licked his hand in order for him to move it. “Fine. But you owe me details, mister! I wanna hear all about it when you get back!” She demanded while walking him to the elevator, a wide smile on her face as she let her arms cross over her chest.

It wasn’t long until he’d made it to the familiar apartment complex, the male taking in a breath as he had to give himself a pep talk in the car. Derek Morgan being nervous, that was new. Something he’d never live down, but new. Instead of driving over here to fully put a stop to a fling, he was putting himself in the position of throwing himself into a relationship.

As Dr. Spencer Reid would say, “Men are 5% more certain that they are in love.”

Derek was much more than 5% certain.

As he was getting out of the car and hurrying up the steps of the complex, it wasn’t long until he was standing outside apartment 24, the numbers faded and dying to be replaced. His fist was coming out to knock against the door, a soft huff leaving his lips as he was glancing around the poorly lit hallway.

The sound of locks were clicking on the inside, the door open and a familiar face poking out. “Derek?” Y/N asked, her hand coming up to rub her eyes. She must’ve fallen asleep, it being 11 pm made it very obvious. “What are you doing here? No call, no text?” She asked, a yawn leaving her lips as she was opening the door more in order to let him step inside.

“I just got home from the case that I left for.” He clarified while his gaze was falling on the tired woman as he was closing the door behind him, his hand reaching behind him to lock up just so she didn’t have to.

“Derek, I’m way too tired for sex tonight. I’m sorry.” She began as the male let out a soft sigh. “No, no. That’s.. I’m not here for that.” He spoke while he was resting a hand on her lower back, leading the confused woman over to the couch while the two were sitting beside each other.

“Then why are you here?” There was confusion, Derek never really came over for much else. Sure, he’d stay afterwards but she was pretty used to them going to each other’s apartments for sex and then they stayed afterwards for whatever else they wanted to do.

“I just.. I’ve been thinking a lot. About you. About us.” He began, feeling a light layer of sweat covering his forehead from just how nervous he was. He could feel his heart beating, almost as if it were ready to bust out of his chest and take over the conversation for him. If only it was that easy.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that.. I know this was supposed to be casual but as the months have gone on, I’ve had these thoughts.. About us. A future that we could potentially have, something that could be ours. No more sleeping around, no more stressing over what could’ve been of yet another fling we called off..”

This was where he was bracing himself. Derek wasn’t used to rejection, not in the slightest. This was where he could break, where he could feel exactly how everyone else felt when he’d be calling off everything and run off to the next person. He had the possibly of feeling his heart being brutally ripped out of his chest, stomped on the ground in front of him.

Instead of getting stabbed in the heart, the woman beside him was offering a smile. “You’ve been thinking about a future with me?” The words had her looking down, shy as could be. Which was funny considering this man seen everything she had to offer, yet the thought of a relationship with him had her giddy like a child.

“I’m not used to this. Confessions.” She admitted. “Truthfully, most men come over and call things off so I was a bit worried when you told me you wanted to talk.” She laughed softly while slowly rubbing her hands over her thighs. “But.. I’ll admit that I’ve been having similar thoughts. About you, obviously.” She spoke.

Derek let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, a smile gracing his features. Thank god. He didn’t know how he’d react if she said anything other than that, who knows, it probably could’ve broke him completely and turned him from his playboy days and brought him into a life of heartache.

Dramatics aside, there was no denying the relief and happiness that was flooding the room.

However it wasn’t long until Y/N was playfully swatting Derek’s arm, the man bringing a hand up in mock offense as if that was the worst thing she’d ever done.

“What was that for?!”

“For waiting until I’m trying to be mad at you to tell me this!”

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: 1.4k Pairing: Female Reader x Tyler Durden Includes: NSFW, Service dom Tyler, incredibly horny/needy Tyler (couldn’t help myself haha), dubcon b/c drunk Tyler, fingering (reader receiving), dirty talk, Tyler begging, dubcon b/c Tyler begs (but reader is into it), insinuations of oral sex.

A/n: Something short for today. She was yowling while I was writing this I stg. Either ‘version’ of Tyler can be imagined, as I didn’t use physical descriptors for him. Please check the tags, as this is sort of dubious in nature, but both are into it. Irl, don’t do this. Pls. Per usual, no minors (obviously). Enjoy.

You didn’t participate in Fight Club. But dating the founder and leader of it meant you had the general idea of what went down. The rules were easy. Don’t talk about it, two men to a fight, so on and so forth. Another thing you knew: Tyler had gotten into the recent habit of taking a shot for every time he fought during a night of Fight Club prior to coming home for the evening. By that logic, tonight he must’ve been really pent up.

This occurred to you the very second Tyler walked through the door of your shared home. You knew him well, but you didn’t have to have any context to his behavior to know he was more than tipsy. Anyone with eyesight could tell you that.

It must’ve been about eleven or twelve, and you were pouring yourself a glass of water in the kitchen before calling it a night. You heard the clattering of keys from the door, and a muffled curse from a familiar voice. Typical Tyler.

A beat passed, and the blundering idiot finally figured out how to work the keys and get into the house, emerging with a groggy, “Honey, I’m h-home!”

You glanced over your shoulder to see him stumble into the kitchen, and promptly catch himself on the wall.

“Uhm, hi, Tyler,” you said, trying to fight the urge to smile.

“Good…eveni…hi,” he coughed, arching his back against his slumped position on the wall, moaning without shame when he cracked it just right.

From this motion, you could see something obvious. The poor bastard had a raging hard-on.

“Did Fight Club go well?” You asked, forgoing your prior activities to turn and face him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed.

He didn’t answer for a moment, nodded drearily, then suddenly,

“I’m so fuckin’…hnghh…horny f-for you,” he growled, grimacing as he bucked his hips against nothing.

You raised your eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look, sparing your eyes to dart obviously from his own, to his erection, and back.

“You don’t say.”

“Oh, you’re such a teasee…fuck-you look,” he swallowed harshly, walking unevenly to the scratched-up table a few feet before you which acted as a mock counter island.

“I look…?” You prompted, biting your lip in an effort to not burst out laughing.

“I-fetching,” he managed to get out.

“Fetching?” You clarified. At this point it was getting difficult to not succumb to a fit of giggles. That was a new word for him. And to use it when you’re just in a pair of cotton shorts and some t-shirt?

“I dunno, fuckable, so…hah, so hot,” he sniffed, snatching up a loose pen from the table and proceeding to dance it across his knuckles.

It was a common stim for him-drunk or not-to fiddle with a pen. He was actually rather impressive with it, too. With the way he focused so intently on it at that moment, you felt like he was an exotic bird trying to coax in a mate. A futile display to try and get you to find him more enticing.

“Do you like how my…my fingers work, hmm?” He muttered, sparing a quick look up to your steady gaze on his hands. “Do you like how quick I am with ‘em? You…you wann’em up y-your pussy? Curling and pushing in and out, up ‘n down…in and…fuck.” He dropped the pen and frowned.

You unintentionally got a bit turned on from his murmurs of fingering you, to be honest. He was so desperate for you-his only focus-even subconsciously. The attention made you avert your eyes. Despite his clear desires, he was probably worn out from fighting and shouldn’t worry about fucking you. But you couldn’t help crossing one leg over another.

He took notice of this move, and stepped closer, cornering you against the counter.

“Do you want me? Want me t-to fuck you?” His hips were dangerously close to yours.

“You’re drunk, Tyler,”

“I’m not…’n even if I was, I always wanna fuck you when ‘m so-ngh-…not drunk, too.” He wasn’t wrong in saying that. The man was always horny. He closed the distance and pushed his groin against yours.

Oh, whatever. Damn it all. You threw your head back and moaned. Who wouldn’t?

“Tyler, you-“ you fought one last time, trying to retain some dignity. Deep down, though-in fact, not really deep down at all-you wanted him so bad.

“Please, say yes, ple-pleaasee…” He choked out, dipping his head in proximity to your neck.

“Okay, yeah, but-but just hand stuff-“ you managed before he crashed his lips onto your jawline, kissing and biting with the need of a starved man. He was practically growling with lust.

“We should…go to the bedroom, Ty,”

“N-ngh-noo, lemme take you on the c-counter…” he whined, grumbled against your skin as he continued to mouth all over you.

“Mmm…fine,” you sighed, a small grin on your face as you smoothed out his hair.

With that, he hooked his arms under your knees and hoisted you up onto the counter. You instinctually propped yourself up with your elbows.

Quickly, but clumsily, he slid off your shorts, exposing how wet you already were.

“Y’want my fingers? In you?”

“I said ‘hand stuff’, didn’t I?”

His hands curved up your thighs, pulling them apart so he could have better access to you.

“This ‘s what I’ve wanted all night…” he moaned, fingering along your slit.

“Christ, Tyler..shit!…” you moaned with him, clenching your eyes closed as a result of the stimulation.

“Wan’ my fingers to rub all over your cli-?”

“Yes, Tyler, just, fucking fuck me already!”

“Ahh, that’s what I like…” he growled, pumping two fingers in, easily due to your wetness, letting his thumb rest on your clit.

You mumbled a slurry of ‘yes’s incoherently when he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, just as he had promised. His thumb inadvertently moved up and down on your clit as a wonderful consequence of his ministrations.

“Mmm, I knew you’d like this..,” Tyler groaned, quickly kissing the inside of one of your thighs as he picked up the pace.

“You’re too damn good, Ty, h-how could I not..?” You stuttered amidst broken noises.

“You think this ‘s good? Just you…heh, just you wait…” he groaned before curling up his fingers with each pump, grazing perfectly over your g-spot every time.

“Oh, Tyler, oh fuck! Yes!” You winced, fighting to keep your eyes from closing shut so you could look down at him.

For a quick beat, he made eye contact with you, and shot you a devious, drunken grin. It was both adorable and also very, very hot.

You barely noticed his erection against one of your legs as he got himself off on it, his small whimpers mixing with yours in harmony.

Somehow, impossibly, he got faster. By nature, you clenched around his fingers, especially as he added a third one with a slight chuckle at your reaction.

“Oh, fuck you, Tyler, you jackass, fuck that-feels-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence when his thumb, already rubbing on your clit, started circling it, too.

“Feels good?”

You nodded with desperate feverence.

By some fantastic talent, he didn’t let up, enjoying your moans and their ever-increasing pitch as he worked at what he was lusting over for so long.

“You gonna cum? Pleaseee tell me your gonna cum, I wanna with you-I wanna cum with you,” he droned, whining.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll cum with you, Tyler, don’t let up,”

“I wasn’t, fuck, I wasn’t planning on it,”

You both moaned loudly, and one of your hands reached over and grabbed his shoulder, digging your nails into it as you came on his fingers. He wasn’t long behind you.

Your orgasm lasted a good amount of time, with Tyler expertly keeping the pace, only slowing down as your orgasm did. You didn’t even notice how he slid his groin off of your leg until it was off.

The first thing you said was with a laugh. “Did you cum in your pants, Tyler?”

“Could you’ve expected m-me not to…?”

His arms hooked under yours and he helped you back up onto your feet, still tingling from the climax.

“Do you wanna take this ‘nto the bedroom?” Tyler asked, still a bit tipsy and trying not to stumble over his words.

“What?”

“Whaddya mean ‘what’? ‘m not done with you,”

You placed your hand in his and bit your lip from a smile, letting him lead you.

“I know you said, l-like, hand stuff ‘n whatever, but…can I use my mouth on you? Please? I’ll be good, ‘n-“

“Yes, Tyler, you can,”

“Thanks.”

You forgot all about the water you originally went in to get.

-

End

-

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