#that moment when you realize you have gay feelings for your husbands husband

[catelogue-of-fear]

Recently I have been thinking about JonElias with Peter. I don't think many JonElias fans really think about him, at least within the ship context, and I'm included despite being a big PLukas fan.

But I think that there is some potential there. I don't particularly see Peter and Jon having any proper feelings for eachother, especially considering each of their relationships with Elias, but I think they would develop Something just by circumstance.

I like the idea of them discovering it comepletely on accident, too. Like, Jon ending up borrowing clothes from Peter, thinking they're Elias', and Peter pointing it out to him and they both have a little momment like. Why Don't I Mind This.

[fishgirl514]

these homos are starting to piss me off

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 “

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧

content warnings: 18+ NSFW, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, general yandere themes, emotional detachment, gay sex, anal sex, anal penetration, mlm, bl, sexual coercion, dubcon to marriage, semi-public sex, choking, hair-pulling, hatefucking, oral sex (reader receiving), male reader, this is a part 2 that might be important information, semi-stockholm sydrome-y, touch-starved/horny reader

Part 1 here: " like lovers do "

Here's the continuation of a fan favorite, "like lovers do", I'm going to leave the actual plot of the fic a secret so you all can enjoy it while you read!! Special thanks to all the people who left comments basically begging me for a part 2 because that's what truly convinced me to write this LMAOOOO if you're looking for anyone to thank for this they are to blame

Fair warning, the content isn't quite as dark as it was before since a lot of people wanted to see the relationship between the reader and Ayato improve, but I also don't enjoy making the reader character complicit in forced relationships so there will still be a fair bit of resistance.

ONE LAST NOTE: i wrote and rewrote this like seven times, if the plot seems disjointed its cause I basically compiled all the different iterations to make the ultimate part 2 kthxbye

Cold.

It was really cold.

Why did Ayato feel so cold?

His eyes opened blearily, blinking rapidly to bat away the exhaustion. The room was dimly lit, like it always was. What should've been his marital bedroom was devoid of a husband, like it usually was in the morning. Ayato couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt wrong. He should've been used to an empty bed and an empty room by now, but the space still felt... desolate. Everything was in place, nothing had moved, the man was even in the same position he usually slept in. Yet despite all this, he felt cold and alone. Why was that?

He went to sit up, to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but instead of maybe a back ache from sitting up all day, he was confronted with an all-consuming pain shooting up his body. Not only that, he noticed when he peeled the covers off of himself he was completely naked.

Well, that explained why he was cold.

But why did he feel abysmally lonely?

His eyes swept over the room, looking for anything out of place, but he wasn't met with anything unusual. That seemed to be a no-go, but perhaps his memories of the previous night would become clearer if he actually got out of bed. Carefully, he swung his legs over the side of his futon, but was met with a strange numbness in his extremities and another wave of searing pain to shoot up his spine.

Things were only getting stranger the more he investigated, but it seemed his questions would be answered all too soon. The very moment his feet made contact with the ground, the brush of fabric startled him. He wondered if one of his blankets had gotten kicked off the bed in the night, but when he looked down to confirm his suspicions, the memories of the previous night stormed his mind like an angry mob.

'Oh.'

His cheeks automatically lit up a cherry red, realizing the 'suspicious fabric' he'd been stepping on was actually his own yukata. Y'know, the one his husband had taken off of him before they... engaged in a night of passion, for lack of a less vulgar term.

Just a few feet away from his clothing were yours, the same kimono he'd tugged off your shoulders, the same sash he'd watched you untie, the same pair of pants you'd left for work in the previous morning, all in a crumpled pile on the floor. He couldn't remember how the clothing specifically got on the floor, having recalled throwing it somewhere on the futon since the both of you were too impatient to properly undress.

The longer he pondered the happenings of the previous night, the more he lost sight of what he had been doing in the first place. Specifically, what he needed to do for the day. After all, the politics of Inazuma stopped for no god, much less any human.

Still, understanding why he felt so lonely didn't help the fact that he still felt lonely. You had been so open and intimate with him the previous night, did you just consider it to be some obligation you had to fulfill if you wanted to keep your family business going? It certainly didn't feel like you were as emotionally distant the night before. Ayato had basked in the glorious sunlight that was your attention, your affections even. You had not only ticked off the consummation box on the marriage contract, you didn't just stop at one round either.

It felt like he was married for once, not just inviting another guest into his home. He might have always worn his ring, caught sight of the matching one you wore when he caught a glimpse of you in the manor, but he had never felt anything close to the adoration and alert focus you'd showered him in the previous night. Even if it hadn't been exactly what he'd imagined for the night, it didn't change the fact that you had been there, in the bed when he'd fallen asleep.

When you'd first gotten married, the part of the day he looked forward to the most was falling asleep in each other's arms. You hadn't given him that satisfaction, but you not only let him hold you after sex, your own arms were cradling him close to your chest like a baby. He'd gotten to use your heart as a lullaby, to feel the burning hot skin on skin contact, the little circles you traced on the small of his back to help him fall asleep; all of it.

He'd hoped--as his eyelids began to grow heavier than lead--that even if exchanging your vows hadn't been the start of your marriage, perhaps yesterday was the true beginning of your relationship.

He knew it was wishful thinking, having sex for the first wouldn't be some kind of switch that flipped inside of you. You wouldn't start loving him just because the two of you had shared one night together, but he'd hoped it might have been the start of things. He'd hoped more than hope itself that maybe you would just barely crack open the gates to the forest containing the forbidden fruit that was your heart.

If he gave you his body on top of his eternal love and devotion, maybe you'd be open to giving him more than the cold shoulder.

He could feel a dismal sense of disappointment settling in his chest, the prospect of giving you all that he had and still not being enough. Maybe if he thought a little harder, he could come up with something to offer you. You had his heart, his body, his entire being, but maybe there was something else he could offer you. He just didn't know what it was yet.

His train of thought was immediately interrupted when the door to the room slid open.

He scrambled to cover himself with the various comforters laying next to him, not bothering to check who was at the door, but then he was met with a melodious chuckle.

His eyes darted to the doorway.

You were in a new yukata, hair completely drenched, and a used towel thrown over your shoulder. He spied your attempt to hide your smile behind the back of your hand. By now, his flush had died down, but the moment he caught sight of you, it returned tenfold. He burst into an electrifying scarlet and completely froze in his tracks like a nervous deer.

You closed the door behind you shortly after, smothering another laugh at his expense. You coughed behind a closed fist, unable to completely wipe the smug grin off your face. "Good morning."

"I-" Ayato tried to swallow some spit down his unbearably dry throat, just now realizing how parched was. "Good morning."

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, "Sorry if I scared you, I woke up feeling less than clean so I decided an early morning bath would be nice." You started walking towards a hamper of dirtied laundry, tossing your towel in before adding, "I didn't want to wake you up, you seemed exhausted yesterday."

"..."

You could only feel yourself smile wider the longer he struggled to answer. His mouth opened and closed like one of those fat koi fish you spied in town a couple weeks ago. The sly Kamisato Ayato was nothing but a flustered mess just from you walking into the room.

You began to notice a trend in what seemed to make you happy these days.

You tilted your head to the side a bit, pretending to look confused as you asked oh-so-innocently, "What?"

He finally seemed to put his thoughts into words when directly questioned. "Weren't you supposed to leave for work earlier?"

You hummed, crossing your arms as you walked towards him. "I moved my work around to a few of the higher ups." Instead of engaging with him further, you bent down and picked up his discarded sleepwear and your clothes from the previous day.

"Oh, and relax, I took care of your work for the day. I didn't exactly think it'd be proper for the head of the Yashiro Commission to be stumbling around like a newborn fawn in public."

"Please?"

You hummed, lazily tracing circles on his lower back with one hand, the other holding your book open. "I'm only taking care of you for the day, you don't need me here tonight."

You had been suspiciously good to him, willing to do just about anything he asked if he persuaded you enough. As of now, he'd managed to convince you to let him cuddle up to your side while you did your own relaxing. One of his hands lay on your chest next to his face while the other was squeezed beneath him on the futon, balled up in a fist next to his heart.

So, so sweet, you had been to him. So tender and caring and lenient; it made him feel suspicious but he had thought himself to be too cynical. Instead of being ready to be burned, he wanted to fully be able to embrace this beautiful warmth in its entirety.

Still, he knew there would be some kind of caveat.

Everything you did, everything you said, everything you let him do, it was only for today. He knew it from the start, when you'd told him upfront you were willing to support him while he was recovering from your rendezvous in the sheets the previous night. He had you wrapped around his finger, but only for the day.

He traced his finger over the hemline on your top, gingerly ghosting over it. While you were still scanning over the words in the book, it brought him some satisfaction that you were still listening to what he said. "Surely, I won't have to beg you to stay in bed tonight." There was a bashful smile on his features as he poked, "What if I need something in the night? You've been doting on me all day, but my legs are still numb."

You rolled your eyes, flipping to the next page of your book. "You are the head of the Yashiro Commission, you are not delicate or fragile. We have plenty of attendants, should you need anything you're strong enough to leave the bed and call for their assistance."

He made sure to exaggerate his expression as he pouted, stopping the movement of his free hand. "I may be the head of the Commission, but that doesn't mean I'm indestructible. Perhaps I want to be taken care of for once." He closed his eyes and huffed as he pushed his head further into your chest, "I don't sleep well at night when you aren't next to me. I need the rest if I am to make a full recovery come tomorrow."

"You're more than welcome to get your 'restful sleep' now, there is nothing stopping you." You continued to scan over the kanji sprawled across the page in front of you. Your hand stopped tracing its own circles on his back, opting to rest comfortably against the curve of his spine.

He sighed, dramatically. Even though he acted annoyed, he couldn't deny the pacifying qualities of your touch and your attention. It would be stripped from him at the end of the day he glumly realized, but being unable to have your focus on him unequivocally for the past few months truly weighed on him.

He wanted your eyes to only look at him. He wanted your arms around him every night, every single day. He wanted to be able to indulge himself in your company after work like a glutton. Every single ounce of your remaining time would be spent with him in his own little ideal fantasy world, but with every rejection he could feel his already broken heart crack and shatter just a little bit more.

Would it kill you to share a bed with him? Kill you to be willing to sit in the same room? To eat dinner together? Maybe sit down and discuss both of your work days? If you couldn't love him, could you at the very least pretend? Perhaps that was why he couldn't be mad at you for only loving him conditionally.

He couldn't convince you to love him at all otherwise.

He sat up from where he was leaning on you, pressing his hands down on one of your thighs, "What must I do to convince you, darling? Is there really nothing? I've enjoyed spending the day with you so much I fear I won't be able to take it if you withdraw so suddenly."

You raised a brow skeptically, still not taking your eyes off of your page. He playfully smacked you on the arm, trying to draw your attention away from your silly book. "No, Ayato, I've already told you there is no reason for me to sleep here tonight. You have everything you could possibly need-"

"But what if I need you here?" He urged, wrapping his hand around your bicep. He tugged, scrunching up his fist along with the fabric. "Your husband is a very greedy man, you agreed to take care of me today."

You still didn't divert your attention from the light novel in your hand, flipping to another page. "Just because you are greedy doesn't mean I'll spoil you to death. I agreed to take care of you during the day, I didn't say anything about tonight."

He whined your name, moving to straddle your hips. He put his hand over your book and pushed it to the side. His hands gripped the collar of your yukata, forcing you to look at him, focus on him without any distractions. The divine pink that surged up from your neck sent a pleasant satisfaction pooling in the bottom of his gut. "Could you just consider it a part of your obligation to me today? How can your heart stand to see your precious husband begging you to come to bed and still be so cruel-hearted?"

In any other circumstance, you'd likely shove him off, but in this scenario you let his hands wrinkle the fabric of your collar. Your hands rested tentatively on his waist, averting eye contact. "Only you seem to be calling yourself precious here, Lord Kamisato."

He gasped, putting an offended hand over his heart, "How could you still say such hurtful things to me?" He threw his other hand over his forehead, closing his eyes as he slumped away from you sadly. "You should be groveling and begging for my forgiveness, dearest."

You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to his exposed temple, "There, does that make up for it?"

He turned back to face you, rested his hands on your chest again. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before resting his face in the crook of your neck. "Partially, I do believe you know what truly would make it up to me."

You huffed, "I'm afraid I will have to leave this injustice unresolved." You picked up your book from where he'd shoved it out of your hands.

Promptly, his hand rested on top of yours. His face withdrew from where it had comfortably rested, "If you aren't going to be here tonight, could you at the very least pay attention to me?"

You seemed to consider wrestling your page-turner from him, to turn him down again. But instead, you let a deep breath pass your lips before setting the hardcover on the nightstand and opening your arms. You were basically offering yourself up to him.

He let himself fall into your embrace, a happy purr passing his lips as he slumped against your chest. He let himself be babied as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and pulled him into your chest and rested your chin on top of the crown of his head.

If he only had today, he would wring as much love from you as he could.

"What are you doing here?"

The Yashiro Commissioner hummed as he took a pointed seat across from you in front of your desk. "Will you be this suspicious of me for the rest of our lives? Is it really all that strange that I want to make a routine out of coming to visit you at work?"

You flipped to the next page of one of the various packets of documents on your desk, "I believe the question you should be asking is whether or not you will always want something from me when you make a visit." Your middle finger carefully scanned over the line of said document before carefully filling out a beautifully calculative signature.

"Oh hush," Ayato gently rested his forearms across the table, face in his palm, "I finally decide to trouble myself with the trip to your workplace and the only thing I get is a sour attitude. Whatever will I do?"

Despite the sincere nature of the words that would flow from your mouth, your dreadfully flat tone betrayed any potential endearment. "How treacherous, for such a doting lover to be so unappreciated."

He smiled, despite all your mockery, always able to find a way to twist each and every little action of yours in his mind. "Precisely, I do believe that you should make it up to me, darling."

You rolled your eyes, "It seems every time I fail to greet you as if we have been starcrossed lovers separated by the cruel writings of fate and time, you believe I have inexplicably wronged you, Ayato."

His hands came to rest on his heart, the sweet jingle of the metals on his attire creating the auditory illusion of the similarly sweet chime of bells. "Because you have!" One of his hands reached forward to rest on your table, "Each and every morning I wake and we are apart, my heart shatters into an insurmountable pile of pieces. Every moment we are apart, my very soul longs to be by your side-"

You waved him off with your non-dominant hand, "Yes, Ayato, you have made all of this clear to me since the moment we were wed. What is it that you want from me? I'm afraid I don't have as much time to entertain you today."

"How cruel," he pouted, "I only wished to invite you out for lunch today."

You raised your brow, still not taking your eyes off your current page. Carefully, you set one packet of paperwork off to the side before setting your sights on another. "What exactly do you 'wish' to get out of lunch?"

There was a saccharine chortle that resounded through the air, "Your company, dearest. I've missed you so." He absentmindedly checked for a clock somewhere around the room, "I do believe I got the time correct, you usually send for your own meal around this hour, don't you?"

You paused, setting down your brush finally. "I suppose I do."

His eyes glistened expectantly, pressing both of his palms firmly on the table. The same cunning smile you used to find so beautiful seemed to only churn a mixed cauldron of negative emotions within the bottom of your ribcage.

"..."

"..."

You sighed, "As much as I would love to join you, I'm afraid your argument falls apart when one realizes I usually work through my lunch. I can't exactly afford to fall behind."

He groaned, his hands shooting forward to grasp at your own. He seemed to completely ignore the fact that you flinched backwards at his touch. Instead, his gloved hands swallowed up your own palms in his, expression desperate as he hunched over your desk. Your eyes weren't very focused on his face when you noticed just how close his pure white sleeve was to a nearly full inkwell. "You work far too much for someone with so many subordinates who are perfectly capable of doing the same job. Surely, you can spare me just an hour? An hour, no more, I swear to you."

You bit the inside of your cheek, averting your gaze from his. "I work because I want things done correctly, I know I can trust myself to complete such matters within the given time frame. As trusted as my employees may be, in the middle of a project as large as-"

He huffed, pressing a kiss to back of your hand, "You're always beginning and ending projects back-to-back, if you don't give your workers any opportunities to prove themselves, will you simply continue to work yourself to death? You don't have a much better chance than this. Give me this one hour, give yourself this one hour, love. Just this once?"

"Ayato-" you tried to warn, however, you were interrupted by this all powerful primal sense of dread as he stood up from his seat across your desk. He circled around you like a hawk before coming to sit by your side instead. One of his hands trailed to your thigh, resting there, innocently malicious. You called his name again, reprimanding intonation, but he seemed to pay no mind.

He rested his head at the junction connecting your collarbone to your neck, just gently ghosting his lips over the skin that remained exposed above your collar. Self-pity washed over you like a flood, accompanied with an embarrassed heat flooding across your face. "This is highly inappropriate at my place of work-"

"Then let's take it out of your place of work." He whispered it tenderly against your neck, nestled right between gentle samplings of your skin. "We can always just go out for lunch too, either way, the decision is yours, darling."

You chewed your bottom lip reluctantly. It seemed, however, Ayato didn't seem to be feeling all that merciful or patient.

He bit down just beneath what would've been visible on your collar.

"Okay, okay- We can go out to lunch, give me some time to arrange for some work to be evenly redistributed." You scowled at his more than satisfied grin, pushing his face away from you, "You are such a headache."

"Yours," he hummed, all but delighted at the outcome of your conversation. He could care less about being unceremoniously being forced to get his grubby little hands off you, instead all but celebrating in his mind as he stood up and dusted himself off.

Yes, you mentally lamented, unfortunately, he was your headache.

'Would you be interested in walking me home?'

"H-Oh shiiiitttt-"

"You're much too loud, if you can't keep it down, I'll leave you here by yourself."

Chinju Forest was quiet and undisturbed a majority of the time, something that appealed to you in your younger years. You enjoyed being invited to the Kamisato Estate as a child just so you could come and sit in the tranquility of the silent trees and the whispering brook.

Pluck off your sandals, toss your socks into the grass and let the tips of your toes gently ease their way into the moving stream. You and the other young heir would come here during your fathers' meetings. Unlike you, when the two of you made your way into the forest, he enjoyed running around.

He liked to skip stones, to hunt for Crawfish underneath the large boulders, run after fireflies in the darkness created by the canopy of trees. While you rested and allowed yourself to turn off your brain, Ayato took hold of his opportunity to be a child. Despite his rather prim and proper nature as an adult, he enjoyed chasing you around with angry cicadas when he was young.

While your sword had seen the punishing end of the hilt in your older teenage years, you hated the idea of filth when you were a child. He enjoyed your screams of terror and the way you'd retreat into the creek, barefoot when he'd come to the water's edge with a screaming bug.

He was your tormentor up until your late twenties, it seemed. Now, you enjoyed tormenting him. To make him uncomfortable, that was your purpose, your passion.

Which is exactly why your pace, like always, was punishing. The grass was soft against his back, but it seemed with each connection of your hips with his you were intent on driving him into the hard ground. He should have felt humiliated, to be defiled against the soil, but he couldn't help the pleasant pulse of ecstasy freely pumping through his body.

His right hand gripped your shoulder in a bruising grasp, fingers coiling around your collarbone. His nails dug into your skin, sure to leave angry little crescent marks in their wake. His left hand was clamped over his mouth, in an attempt to be quieter.

His eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows curled upwards towards the inner corners of his eyes. Had this been any other time, he would've been alert and at full attention. Drinking in the sight of the man of his dreams looming over him, sweaty and laser-focused on every single arch of his back and every roll of his hips. However, in the middle of the woods, with only the curtain of shadows casted by the tree tops, he couldn't seem to muster up the strength to pull open his eyelids.

What with the churning shame in the bottom of his gut and the surging tendrils of overstimulation coiling through the insides of his you were currently rearranging, he couldn't do it. With the vice grip on his hips and the piercing stare you were aiming at him, it seemed impossible.

"Tell me-" you hissed in between harsh jabs of your hips, "could you really have not waited for me to get home? Was the sole purpose of your trip to my office to lure me into your bed again?"

As much as he might've wanted to answer, Ayato could only answer in pitiful whimpers and whine into the palm of his glove. Each and every single one of them being punctuated with another angry shove of your dick further inside of him.

His eyelids darted open when your attention seemed to shift to the fabric of the glove he was currently biting. Your fingers curled around his wrist and pinned it to the grass next to his head, "Hey-" your hips halted for just a few seconds before moving agonizingly slowly. Just barely enough movement to keep fanning the flames of overwhelming want in his gut, just barely enough to be prodding at his prostate, but slowly enough he was painfully aware of the twitch of his own erection against his stomach. "I asked you a question."

He nodded blearily, shaking his head as quickly as the friction against the nape of his neck would. He tried to let a few words stumble from his swollen lips, but he could only blubber pathetically and push his perineum closer to you in response.

You pulled him to be flush against your pelvis, looming over him with a tilt of your head. "Words, Ayato, use your words."

"Yes- Archons yes- please just keep moving-" he begged.

He mewled with another quick roll of your hips into his, left hand clenching and unclenching around nothing next to his head. "Really? What did I ask you? Did you hear me or are you too much of a slut to think about anything but how to get me to touch you again?"

"I'm a slut-" his back arched up dramatically as your hand smeared the lines of white that painted his exposed stomach against his skin, "I'm yOur whore- hnnn~"

He tried to squeeze his thighs together as another teasing wave of pleasure surged past his senses, another hiccup falling past his teeth. He tried to pull you impossibly closer with his legs, but found the traitorous tremor in his muscles prevented him from exerting any real strength.

"Did you touch yourself during work? Was that really all that was on your mind while you sorted through your papers?" Your hand teased his dick, languid strokes up and down as you watched him seize up in a beautiful curve.

His mouth fell open as another string of curses slid out of his throat like a waterfall. You also couldn't help the grunt that resounded through the air past your own closed lips when he got impossibly tighter around you. You pulled his hair to get him to look at you, "Answer me."

He nodded again, "Yes, yes, yesyesyesyes-" He keened, trying to push himself further into the gentle caress of your hand. "I coUldn't stohoopp thinking about youU-"

You hummed, "So you fingered yourself open over your desk? You didn't excuse yourself to your room or anything? No breaks? Just how long did you sit there touching yourself before my lunch break?"

He shook his head, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he tried to shy away from your prying leer. "I don't know- ouH~"

"Was it really that long?" You continued to stroke his painfully red dick through another orgasm. "Give me an estimate."

He trembled, only really trying to pull himself together as you started getting slower with your movements. "I-I-" He swallowed, "M-maybe an hour? Ahn~ I don't knohowww-"

He practically choked on his thoughts when you sped up again, pleas falling past his lips like a prayer as he arched up into another release.

You'd been nice enough to take care of him again after your escapade in the woods.

You took him home, explained he'd 'fallen ill' on the way home, and informed the staff (Thoma) you'd be back in around an hour to take care of him after sorting out work affairs.

Just like before, you let him gently wrap you around his nimble finger. Each and every little request was met as long as his words were sweet enough, as long as he played each and every one of his little cards right. As long as he looked pitiful enough, you would let him cuddle up in your lap. If he complained enough, he could convince you to give him a massage.

Sweetly, he would call your name and you'd be at his side. Patiently, you'd brush the hair off of his face and make sure he was comfortable. If he so wished it, you would let him join you in your office while you worked. Of course, while you could hand off your work to others in your company, Inazuma, the Commissions, and politics didn't stop just because he needed the day off.

Instead of getting one of his many retainers to do his work for him, you took it upon yourself to sit yourself down at his desk and take care of it yourself. A husband should be able to understand and complete his partner's job, you told him when he teased you for it. So, despite never having dipped your proverbial toe into the world of politics, you took on the mantle without hesitation.

Paper after paper, meeting after meeting. Later in the day, you even bothered yourself with hand-delivering a few signed notices and making appearances in spots he was supposed to be. It was only understandable you would return home exhausted after that. Still, in your tired daze, you insisted that you would sleep in your office once again.

"If not for me, than for yourself, darling." He pleaded, perched at the edge of the futon in his Yukata. He watched you wander around the room tucking away paper after paper and muttering to yourself. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were to sleep on the ground tonight. You've just about worked your fingers to the bone so I could take the rest of the day off."

You waved him off with a hand, eyes still scanning over a booklet of etiquette that came with a Tricommission meeting. Seeing as the Yashiro Commission mainly served as a cultural regulator and mediator between the two commissions, the tasks of the acting representative during the meeting were relatively simple. In theory, it wouldn't be difficult to allow Ayato another day of rest. All you would need to do would be to resolve any conflicts should they-

"Would it ease your mind if I slept elsewhere tonight?"

You only really snapped out of it when you felt his arms rest themselves delicately around your hips.

"I-" You cleared your throat, "No, there's no need. I can manage just fine with you here."

You felt him sigh against your back, resting his face against your shoulder blade. "So you'll stay here tonight? I'm glad."

You paused, "That... isn't what I meant." You gently pried his arms off of the curves of your waist, snapping the booklet you'd been cradling shut. "I'm a grown man. A sore back isn't a concern I've made a priority for a long time. You can sleep here, I will be fine in my office."

He pressed himself into your back, if not only insisting with his words, than also with his actions. "I don't care if you'll be fine in your office, I care what is best for you. You've worked all day, it's nearly midnight. The futon will comfort your physical ailment if not your mental strain. I can sleep in my own office tonight for a change."

You shook your head, sliding the booklet into one of the many shelves that adorned your walls. "Absolutely not. You will sleep in bed tonight as you always have, I only worked this hard so you could recover your strength. Sleeping on the ground would only-"

He huffed, "If you don't want to sleep in the same room as me, I'll be sleeping in my office. You can't seriously think you'll be able to stop me. If you want me to sleep in bed, you will sleep in the bed with me."

You shook your head, "That-"

You flinched as he pushed you up against the wall, inhaling deeply as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. What made the position all the more embarrassing was your inability to gauge his expression. "Please?"

You sighed, "Don't make this difficult. Sleep in bed, sleeping in my office isn't a bother to me-"

He called your name again, exasperated. "Do I have to sweeten the deal for you in some way? What do I have to do for you to take my offer seriously?" He wrapped you up in his arms again, this time snuggly situating himself around your torso. "I'm tired of only catching glimpses of your grumpy face when you leave in the morning because of the lackluster sleep you managed to get. Just for tonight, I promise. If you don't believe me on anything else, just for tonight I'm asking you to sleep on the futon sincerely out of concern for your wellbeing and not my own selfish desires."

"Ayato-"

He gave your torso a squeeze. In fact, he let you unravel his arms from your figure without any of the usual fuss. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, turning to face him with an annoyed expression, "Go to bed like you do every night, I don't know how many times I need to keep telling you-"

He silenced your complaints with his lips.

He wrenched his arms from your grip on them, going to trail them up and down your sides. You exploded in surprised shudders, unwittingly complicit in his little act of intimacy. Soon enough, he was sinking down on his knees, pressing his lips to your clothed body at random intervals on his way down.

"What are you doing?"

His breathing got heavier as he descended, fingers settling at your waistband. "You only finished once earlier, didn't you?" With a flick of his wrist, he exposed your flaccid dick to the cold air of your bedroom. He gave an experimental lick up the side from base to tip, listening to the sharp inhalation of air through your teeth. He could feel it getting hard under his tongue with a few more kitten licks to the tip.

"If you aren't tired enough to stay in bed as is, I'm sure I could tire you out some more."

Ayato gave a sleepy sigh as he sunk into your chest.

Today, it seemed, you two still had enough energy for some clean-up post-coitus.

You admonished him gently. "Hold still, you'll end up getting soap in your eye." Your hands gently combed through his hair and did your best to swipe the foamy bubbles off of his forehead. You did your best to scrub the sweat off his scalp while still remaining tender.

He curled up against you despite all the space that was left in your rather luxurious bathtub. His legs tangled with yours in your seat, tracing hearts over where yours was hidden beneath your skin. You grabbed the wooden bowl from beside the tub, filling it with water before pouring it over Ayato's head gently.

The suds ran down his back and into the rest of the tub. He rubbed what little soap remained around his eyes before looking up at you. Something similar to a cat purring emanated from his chest, eyes filled with a soft fondness you couldn't stomach head-on.

It would've been nice if he hadn't forced the ring on your finger half a year ago. It would've been sweet, it would've been mind-numbingly heartwarming. But as it stood, you couldn't seem to meet such a gaze without a deep resentment bubbling up in your chest. Even if you might've wanted to fall in love for the sake of your own sanity in the long run, could you really ever learn to love someone like him?

As if reading your mind, he interrupted your thoughts by reaching up to grab the bottle of shampoo himself. "Do you want me to wash your hair too?"

Still, despite knowing he would never do anything to hurt you, to so much as go out of his way to upset you, you could've let yourself to let your guard down to him in the slightest. "No, I can do it myself."

Ayato snickered, "Well, I know you can, but do you want to have your hair washed?" His laughter was soft and domestic sounding, something that should've squeezed your heart gently. Yet, the squeeze felt more like an impromptu strangling. Something hurt when he laughed so mercifully. Something felt extremely wrong when he laughed without so much as a care.

Did he care about you?

Did he have the capacity to care about anyone but himself?

Did he truly love you, or did he love the idea of the two of you together?

He waved a hand in front of your face, calling your name quizzically. "Did you hear me? Do you want me to wash your hair or would you rather just rinse it tonight?" He shook his head, the water droplets that clung to his exposed skin glistening in the low lamplight. "Nevermind, just go ahead and turn around, let me take care of it."

You shook your head. "I can do it myself, you should relax."

He clicked his tongue, "Let me do this one thing for you. You always seem to take care of me and never let me do the same for you. Do you honestly think so poorly of me? There isn't any poison in it."

'Yes', you thought breathlessly, more like admitted it to yourself. 'You did think that badly of him.'

You already told yourself earlier, reassured yourself, he wouldn't so much as hurt a hair on your head if not for your own wellbeing than his twisted ideal of this relationship. You wondered if someday, if you didn't play into this little role he'd assigned you in his head, would he ever grow bored of you?

Would he no longer be interested in playing happy little family with you?

Would he toss you to the side like all the other lives he seemed to treat like objects to creep further towards his goals?

What did it mean exactly to be one of his goals? You didn't know.

The fact that you didn't know scared you.

It scared you more than anything.

Perhaps that was the true reason you wouldn't ever let him care for you. You didn't know what his definition of care was.

"Please?" he pleaded again. He always loved to drop in that magic word whenever you were feeling more open to spending time with him. "You just used the shampoo on me, you usually use it yourself, it couldn't hurt just this once, could it?"

"Fine, but don't draw it out. I want to go to bed soon."

You watched the smile grow on his features as he gripped at the sides of your face. He peppered kisses all over, gracious thanks leaving his lips every moment they weren't attached to your face. You silently let him continue to shower you in his affections.

Finally, when he seemed to be done with kissing you wherever he could plant his mouth, you let yourself sink more into the bathtub. You leveled yourself out to where he could get to your locks.

You leaned against him, though he was quick to admonish you for being as stiff as a board. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything but wash your hair, love. You worry too much."

He planted another kiss to the wet skin of your nape before dumping a generous amount of shampoo into his waiting palm. He rubbed his hands together to gather up the suds before his hands descended upon your waiting scalp with a calculated gentleness.

He seemed to pay special attention to each and every hair on your head. The obvious devotion made you feel like you were squirming in your own skin.

Carefully, he brushed the hair away from your face, lathering each and every lock thoroughly. It seemed as though he was looking for every excuse he could to touch you.

"That's enough, my hair is more than clean by now."

He went to complain, but held his tongue. It seemed he realized just as quickly as you did that you were being far too lenient with him. But it was difficult to stop him at the same time. Usually, you were good at maintaining your boundaries and making sure he knew you weren't going to fall victim to this ludacris script he'd orchestrated in the recesses of his twisted mind.

But throughout the course of the night, there seemed to be one thought that scared you more than what Ayato's definition of care was.

What would he do to you when he stopped caring altogether?

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" hey guys, kicks rocks "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

[thealogie]

picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.

you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.

so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.

so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.

and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.

and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?

This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

They really put Travis through the wringer on this show, like put yourself in his shoes for a moment. You’re a teenage boy who’s dragged along by his shitty, neglectful father to a soccer tournament you really don’t even want to be at. The plane crashes on the way there and you have to watch your father’s bloody, mangled corpse fall from a tree.

Now you’re stranded in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage girls, a one-legged gay guy who’s slowly going insane, and your little brother who you now have to take care of. You lash out because you’re deeply grieving and traumatized and don’t know how to show it because your brain is filled with 90s era gender roles. Now you have to dig up your father’s corpse to get a ring for Javi to make it up to him. Then you start a thing with a pretty grunge girl but you’re too insecure and not ready and don’t know how to express that because, once again, 90s gender roles.

Then you go to a party in the woods, get drugged with shrooms, lose your virginity, and get sexually assaulted by like 10 girls who proceed to hunt you down, tie you to a tree, and try to kill you. Then your brother gets lost in the crossfire and you’re trying to find him all while still feeling the guilt of cheating on the girl you love and the shame of what all of those girls did to you. You spend months looking for your brother in the snow and you know he’s probably dead but you can’t bear the thought that you were supposed to protect him and failed so you live in denial. Then your girl fakes Javi’s death, you begin to properly grieve, and you cannibalize the girl you lost your virginity to all in the same day.

Then, just as you’re coming to terms with Javi’s death he comes back but he’s all fucked up and won’t talk to you and you realize your girl lied to you so now you’re more alone than ever. Now you’re all starving so you do a card draw to see who you’re all going to eat next but the girl you love draws the card and you try to save her by sending your brother out there to help her. She lives but your brother dies instead (and you know he would have lived if you hadn’t sent him out there) and you sob over his body until the girls take him away to cut him up. Then you have to eat your brother to survive. And the girl you love who let your little brother die in her place is being crowned queen and you’re going to have a lifelong, complicated, drug-filled, resentful relationship with her. When you’re rescued, you’re going to have to return home and tell your mother that her husband and son are dead but you can never tell her, or anyone, what really happened.

I’m going to cut him some slack, guys.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

So I know you headcanon Nami as a lesbian and Luffy as aroaco (both which is heavily agree with!) What are your romance/sexuality headcanons for the other Strawhats?

Hm. I think Zoro is ace, but not aro, but also the only thing he's really in love with is his dream of fulfilling his promise to Kuina, becoming the greatest swordsman in the world. Once he accomplishes that... well, I am not 100% sure he'll survive accomplishing it, actually, I think the story is signaling pretty hard that his moment of transcendence is going to be connected with the moment of his death (the "King of Hell" thing, all the Buddhism imagery, his tendency to find revelations about swordsmanship on the brink of death) but if he does survive it, that's when maybe romance can become a consideration for him. Maybe. That's when he can figure out who he's even into.

Sanji is extremely romantic - hyperromantic, even - but honestly in a way that's... almost totally disconnected from actual romance? He worships women as divine goddesses and sources of extreme aesthetic and emotional joy for him, but he seems to struggle enormously to actually relate to them a lot of the time. He seems more invested in Being A Gentleman Who Loves Women than he does in... actually being in any sort of a realistic relationship with a woman.

Pudding is the closest he comes to forming an actual romantic relationship, and even then, so much of it is ultimately motivated by his romantic fantasy of Being The Prince, of being the noble, self-sacrificing hero who Saves The Girl, of Being A Good Man. Committing to her is, for him, an act of self-sacrifice, for the sake of his crew, for the sake of his family (Zeff and the Baratie, not the Vinsmokes), and for the sake of her more than it is an earnest desire to build a future with a true partner. He's resigning himself to a life of being her perfect domestic husband servant, in worship and adoration of her, but never in partnership.

In an extremely weird way, the vibe I get from Sanji is he's like a... hyperromantic... aromantic? He's EXTREMELY invested in romantic fantasies, but not so much in the actual day-to-day mundanities of romance, he's in love with the idea of being in love, with the experience of being in love, with the thrill and act and performance of being in love, more than he is in love with any actual person?

Partly this comes down to One Piece just not being a romance story - romance is generally sidelined and elided in most situations, and Sanji's romantic obsessions are played for comedy 99% of the time, they are not taken seriously, so he never has an opportunity to really go through the process of romance as a grounded, flesh-and-blood process, but I can only discuss him as he is presented.

Robin, I think, might be the most straightforward of the crew. I am on board with the Frobin agenda, I think she's probably straight and... if not cis, then about as cis as you can be with a power like the Hana Hana no Mi. And I think she genuinely would be very attracted to a loud, dependable eccentric like Franky, as the other half to her quiet dependable eccentric personality. Especially since he is loudly and obviously an extremely decent man with a heart of gold, and Robin carries so much trauma of being a "devil child," I think she probably needs that kind of uncomplicated light of goodness in her life.

Usopp, again, is probably a fairly straightforward sort. The live action gives him a thing for Kaya, but I could see him being bi or pan, but much like Zoro I don't think he's going to quite have the capacity for Romance™ until he fulfils his dream of becoming a great warrior of the sea (he already has, of course, but he needs to internalize it and realize it within himself). I ONE HUNDRED percent believe he might end up taking a Giant for a spouse.

Franky is... okay this makes no sense whatsoever but I feel that he's gay? But also would fall for Robin? ... but in a gay way???

Look I don't know how that works either, it's a vibe it's a brain feeling it's a wibbly wobbly romance gender sort of situation. Franky is clearly in love with the male body, with masculinity, with maleness, and he especially loves building himself into those images of hypermasculinity, but he does in a way that feels hella queer to me. I don't really think you can be a self-made cyborg building his own body without being some flavor of queer-coded, like, I just don't think that that can be a cishet thing anymore.

He would fall for Robin is my point, in part because they share a knack for creating themselves, in part because Robin would appreciate and need him, in part because she would adore his cybernetic self-creation and find it charming and beautiful, and I think he needs someone who will love his creations (including, y'know, his body) as much as he does.

It's like... y'know how Neo and Trinity in the Matrix are clearly, OBVIOUSLY a t4t couple even though they're both technically cis in the text of the story? It's like that with Frobin for me. Yeah, sure, they're both cis and straight, but also they are trans and gay.

Jinbei I have no idea, actually, he could be into absolutely anything. Kind of a gay bear vibe? That's the best I got. Chopper is a child and I don't think he really has any idea yet either, and Brook... look, I don't think you can be THAT level of flamboyant rockstar and not be some flavor of queer. The Soul King wears Elton John outfits half the time. I don't know that he has a sexuality anymore necessarily (he could be ace, what with the having no carnal flesh and all), but if he's not at least bi romantically then nothing about him makes sense.

[archangeldyke-all]

how about the trend of “calling my gf ‘wife’” with modern!sev reacting to reader calling her her wife. based on this:

https://www.tiktok.com/@el.and.daf/video/6907981351169920261

🌕

CUTEEE i love these videos

men and minors dni

it started with some late night phone-scrolling.

sevika was working in her home office, and without your six foot two weighted blanket snoring on top of you, you couldn't sleep. so, you were scrolling.

you saw a cute video of a woman answering her phone in front of her boyfriend, telling whoever was on the other line she was with her husband. it was clearly faked, but the challenge was cute enough for you to search for more.

an hour and a hundred sweet videos later, you were convinced.

you needed to try it out on sevika.

you don't film it, and it's not planned. but you make a mental note to keep an eye out for opportunities to introduce your girlfriend as your wife.

you only have to wait for two days for the perfect scenario to strike.

you're walking through the grocery store, pushing the cart behind sevika as she reads the little list you'd made at home.

it's been a great day. you guys woke up at noon, fucked, and went out to get lunch. now, you're stocking up on groceries for the week ahead.

you slow down to eye a sample cart. the woman behind it smiles, and sevika chuckles as she waits for you.

"free sample of our new sun dried tomato hummus?" she offers, holding out a little paper cup of hummus and pita.

you smile, licking your lips and nodding as you reach out to grab the cup. your eye catches on sevika for a moment, and a spark of genius strikes.

"can i get one for my wife too?" you ask, loud enough for her to hear half an aisle away. the woman just nods and hands you another paper cup, and you thank her before catching up with sevika. "here, baby, try." you offer, ignoring the way she's gawking at you.

you keep your eyes on your hummus, snacking and waiting in anticipation for her reaction. for a second, you worry she won't react at all.

then she squeaks. you flick your eyes up to study her, trying to bite back your mischievous smile. "you okay?" you ask.

she blinks. "you..." she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. you raise an eyebrow at her, ignoring the way you want to coo at her sweet expression.

"you don't like your hummus?" you ask.

sevika doesn't answer. instead, she swoops forward and pulls you in for a breath-taking kiss, right in the middle of the cracker aisle.

you pull away a minute later with a gasp, blinking up at your girlfriend with wide eyes. "what was that for?" you whisper, giddy.

she's grinning. "nothing." she says, trying to suppress her smile. you grin.

"nothing?"

"nothing." she repeats, giggling. you snort, not believing her, and she darts forward to kiss your nose. "i'm just... you... i love you so much. forever." she whispers.

for the second time in the span of a minute, your breath is taken away. you blink up at sevika, trying to keep back the tears threatening to well in your eyes.

you realize she's not going to mention it-- she doesn't want to embarrass you. it's the sweetest thing in the fucking world, but as she nudges you to start pushing the cart again, you can't help but feel a little disappointed that she didn't say anything.

but then, on the drive home, sevika reaches across the center console and starts fiddling with your left hand, her fingers massaging your naked ring finger. and when she presses a kiss to the place a ring would sit, you realize that sevika might be your wife a lot sooner than you expected.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676

[cree-n-jewish-thoughts]

Having to explain to my gay brother the difference between him being yelled at on the street vs. antisemitism.

It was hard to explain, he got mad thinking I was just being a bit "dramatic", then I told him...

Brother, everyone left me. The communities I helped build have turned their backs on me of my own Native community has turned against me, I told him... I have no one to back me up. If someone were to yell at him what they did, he has people to back him up. I get reminded of how people just walked away and out of my life, how people turned their backs on us when we need support. People will call me nasty things on the street and others join in and laugh, people who I built a community for even. I told him I got used to that hate, the open hatred, but I have no one to back me up anymore. People want me dead. I even showed him some asks from tumblr.

My brother is adopted, he was adopted older and isn't Jewish, I am actually the only practicing Jew in my family at the moment. He doesn't wear a magen David, he doesn't read about the violence, he doesn't totally understand.

After I explained as well as I could to him (through tears) he finally understood. His little brother was alone in the world, the world that had been there was gone. He realized I was walking a tightrope on the 30th floor, with no safety net. He is scared for me and offered to let me stay awhile with him and his husband. They live in a big city and it terrifies me, so I explained and said no, I told him I won't survive there, I barely survive where I am now...

Sigh, 😞 having your brother say "you'll be an amazing father don't let the world stop you from being a dad!" When you feel like bringing another Jewish life into this world is selfish and unkind to that child.

I miss my brother a lot, the only sibling that seemed to care about me growing up, I miss you big brother.

Edit: and yes he doesn't understand why a war in the middle East is affecting people over here. Just because we are Jews.

[steviesbicrisis]

Seeing a lot of Step dads being asked to adopt officially their step kids today on Tiktok and it made me think of Eddie doing something like that with Wayne.

We don’t know if Wayne officially adopted him, maybe he’s just in temporary care and now Eddie is old enough to not need an adult to look after him but when anyone asks him about his parents he always talks about Wayne so he might as well make it official, right?

Steve helps him prepare the papers in time for Christmas and he even asks Jonathan for his camera so he can capture the moment.

Despite being sure, Eddie feels a little nervous. He knows that Wayne loves him like a son, but he also knows that taking care of him wasn’t something he chose, more like the right thing to do when your brother is a fuckup and goes to prison leaving his kid to fend for himself.

Steve cheers him up by threatening him that if he doesn’t ask Wayne to adopt him, he will. Somehow that’s the weirdest and sweetest threat Eddie has ever received.

Eddie gives the papers to Wayne on Christmas, carefully folded inside a box, under a very ugly mug he knows Wayne will love in case the adoption papers aren’t well received.

Wayne opens the box and huffs looking at the dog-shaped mug “you’ve outdone yourself son, might be my new favorite one”.

He notices the way Eddie flinches at the word “son” but he shrugs it off and turns to Steve, gesturing at the camera in his hands “is this all? Wanted to take a picture of this ugly ass mug?”

Steve tries to use a neutral tone, but it comes out fond nonetheless “I think there’s something else”.

Wayne frowns, turns to Eddie who’s bouncing on his place “look at the bottom of the box” Eddie points at it.

He picks the piece of paper, unfolds it and, after giving a suspicious look to the both of them, he reads quietly.

If they didn’t know Wayne, they probably wouldn’t have noticed his eyes getting a little watery and his hands lightly trembling.

Eddie and Steve exchange a knowing look and a big smile, Steve takes it as his cue to snap the first picture.

The second depicts Eddie putting his hand on Wayne’s shoulder and his uncle -or better, his dad- looking up to hold back the tears.

The third one, everyone’s favorite, has Wayne enveloping Eddie in a bone-crushing hug and Eddie’s surprised face.

A while later, when everyone has calmed down and Wayne has signed everything he needed to, he asks “so, what about Steve?”

The boys give him a surprised look “what about me?” Steve wonders.

“Either you two get married or I adopt you too” he says simply, sipping his coffee from his new favorite dog mug.

Both Eddie and Steve get red and ramble about how it is way too soon and that gay marriage being illegal anyways.

“Im just saying, son” Wayne dwells a second on the word, as it has taken a new meaning for him “that Steve is part of the family too, and if you don’t make it official then I will.”

Eddie doesn’t give Steve any time to react “No fucking way, man” he jumps out of his seat and points at his boyfriend without looking at him “I’m asking him as soon as marriages are legal!”

“We’ll see” replies Wayne, just to rile him up, which works perfectly.

“Are you challenging me?” He turns to Steve, scandalized “don’t you dare become my step brother Steve!”

Steve winces just at the thought of it “of course-“

“How do you expect Steve to say yes to marring you if you’re this controlling?” Wayne interrupts him.

“Me?? I would be a great husband! The best!” Eddie replies, looking outraged.

Steve covers his face in his hands and mutters “oh my God” as Wayne keeps poking at Eddie and the latter takes every bait.

It takes Eddie approximately 45 minutes to realize he had been talking about being Steve’s husband in front of him the whole time despite never having that conversation between them first.

His embarrassed expression once he realizes is Wayne second’s favorite Christmas present that year.

[bagely]

IT'S 4AM AND I WANT TO FEEL YOU

they gay and shit

The light entered the room hitting the face of the half-awake Missa on the bed, who squeezing his eyes and yawning gave the alert to his husband who entered the room and had woken up a few minutes ago.

Philza sat up in bed grabbing Missa by the cheeks and caressing his face, to which Missa unmoving with closed eyes accepting the affection.

"You leave" Missa said.

Bringing his hands now up to his husband's hair , philza smiled tiredly "Chay called me."

"Oh, is he okay?"

"Yeah, his floatie deflated."

"What?" missa seemed to snap out of a trance and his eyes widened.

"I sort of suspect lullah" Said Philza serene at the matter, and more concerned about the silkiness of his husband's hair.

"His own sister" Missa spoke in a dramatic tone "So young, and on the wrong path..." removing Philza's hands from his hair as it was beginning to bother him.

A disappointed grimace appeared on Philza's face as he was interrupted in his petting "It's a murder we'll solve tomorrow," he reached for Missa's hand again interlacing his fingers "and you? Why did you wake up? Bad dream?"

Missa surrendered to his insistence moved closer to him and leaned his head against his neck. He clicked his tongue as he remembered his dream "My first death."

"Your only death." Philza corrected him gently.

A silence formed, perhaps because of how overwhelming the subject matter was for Missa or the fact that his body wanted to succumb to sleep more and more strongly every minute.

"I'm exhausted." Missa replied, finally beginning to stroke Phil's hands returning some of his affection.

"It's 4 o'clock in the morning I wouldn't expect more."

Missa lifted his head willing him to lie down once more and as they parted they stood for a moment looking at each other. The light was lacking but still Missa felt Phil's eyes sparkle. "Give me a kiss" Missa said in a soft tone.

"Weren't you sleepy?" Philza asked, in a tone that bordered on suggestive and carefree.He grabbed Missa's neck, Together their faces giving each other a little smack on the forehead.

"Don't go around thinking cochinadas."

Philza stopped a giggle inside, even in that darkness holding him so close he could see her ears turn red. "I'm not thinking about anything."

"I want a ring." Missa said, the play between their hands still going on.

"Really?"

"You never gave me one."

"You hadn't asked for it." Philza replied.

Missa pulled away, holding his gaze on him "I ask you for something and you'll just give it to me?" Philza nodded immediately at what he had said with a goofy grin "I want... a castle in the stars."

"When I get to them I'll make you one there." Phil replied dropping down on the bed.

Missa followed him, positioning himself on his abdomen or a little higher and giving him kisses on the cheeks. There was zero response from philza to this, he simply moved his feet so that every part of both of their bodies were touching each other

"You're tired too.." Missa commented stopping their kisses, as if he had just realized something.

A tired chuckle came from Philza. Missa could feel his chest rise when it came. "We have two children I'm always tired."

"Then sleep."

"You sleep first."

Missa interlocking his hands again, he felt strange being now the one who was trying to get attention " sometimes he asked me.." He paused as if he had started talking without knowing how to finish the sentences. " if... maybe reality is a dream."

"That would be sad, I can't imagine without you guys. Without you." Philza replied, Missa could feel each of his heartbeats act faster as he said that whole sentence.

Missa could feel himself blushing even though it wasn't something new to know, maybe it was the time and the dream that intoxicated them, and made it feel like that was the first time he heard things like that from his husband " Mi alma, your soul."

"What's that?"

"It seemed appropriate." Missa replied.

"Go to sleep." Philza replied, moving over and dropping Missa to the side of the bed. They were still quite close though and their hands were still clasped together.

Missa wondered for a second, until he remembered his most important piece of information "Are you blushing? You always blush if I speak Spanish" He said, and to test his theory by bringing his hands close to him, and bringing his face close to his separated by their noses.

"Not true." Philza immediately replied.

"It's wrong to lie to your husband." Missa joked.

"Shut up." Replied Philza, releasing his grip.

"Uh?" Missa started to move away.

Philza proceeded to gently grab Missa's neck to pull him up to him. Imparting a kiss to him, with a force almost measured in his own tiredness. Slow just like the morning that seemed to take ages to appear. When they parted they stood with foreheads pressed together and noses brushing "Didn't you want a kiss?"

"You blushed." Missa replied.

"I'll get your ring for you tomorrow, sleep."

Missa nodded, though he doubted if Phil had seen it. Snuggling almost on top of his husband, he eventually gave in to sleep.

[phoxey]

Abandoned

Monika Shin x fem!reader

cw: a good mix of suggestiveness and angst, also age gap (legal ofc) MDNI

words: 1393

AN: please be gentle with me, i'm just starting out as a writer, also this is not proofread

It has been quite a while since you have seen her. Monika, your teacher, your friend, your everything. You left PROWDMON right before the first season of Street Woman Fighter started. You never explained why. You just sent her a quick text, stating that you leave PROWDMON and Korea, that you are sorry and that she shouldn't contact you, because you would be travelling the world. You blocked her and the entire crew after that.

The reason? You were madly in love with her. But she was your teacher. She was ten years older than you. She was not gay. It pained you to always hear her talk about her wanting a man, a husband. You had tried to confess your feelings multiple times, but she always took your confessions in a friendly and sisterly way. After a while you just gave up.

You left Korea, like you said, and travelled the world, participating in dance battles everywhere and gave dance classes, mainly in America. Thats where you met Audrey and through her you joined Jam Republic Agency, who called you up when they were forming a team for Street Woman Fighter season 2. Your heart longed to go back to Korea, so you agreed.

You were happy until the judges were introduced.

"...PROWDMONs Leader: Monika!", Kang Daniel said.

You looked up in shock. And there she was. As beautiful as ever... and as unreachable as ever. She smiled and looked around, just before your eyes met, you lowered your gaze to the ground, trying to keep your tears from welling up. You swallowed hard and put on an annoyed and arrogant face as you felt her eyes on you. The dance battles started and you tried to ignore her presence, to have fun. You battled against Chocol, a friend from way back, Monika had introduced you two many years ago. You heard the voices behind you.

"She dances just like Monika-sseam."

"You can see that she spend a lot of time with Monika-ssaem."

"Y/N left PROWDMON right before Street Woman Fighter, do you think they fought?"

You kept your eyes on Shownu, when the judges showed their cards. One for Chocol, one for you... and Monika held both cards up, refusing to decide. You looked up from her cards to her face, and her gaze pierced you. It was as though she could look into your soul. There were so many emotions and questions in her eyes. She was an open book to you, she has always been. But what stunned you was, when her eyes suddenly became dark and cold, almost hateful. You didn't even realize for a precious ten seconds that the rematch with Chocol had begun, due to the tie. Not dancing for a solid ten seconds, earned you a 3:0 loss.

"What was up?", Kirsten asked worriedly, as the break begun.

You shook your head. "I don't want to talk about it.... I think i need to be alone for a moment."

You stood up, gave her a half smile and then walked to the bathrooms. You threw some water into your face and tried to calm down, you almost didn't recognize your own face in the mirror. Absently you dried off and turned around to go back to your team, but you stopped abruptly. Monika leaned, arms crossed, against the door, staring at you and you were sure, she wouldn't move.

The two of you just stared at eachother in silence for a little eternity. Your heart beat so loud that you were afraid she would hear it.

"Hey...", you cracked a fake smile, you wanted to sound like someone meeting an old friend, only the finger guns were missing.

"Don't 'Hey' me.", she just said coldly and took a step towards you.

You took a step back. "What?"

"Funny meeting you here, after you abandoned us."

"I didn't leave PROWDMON because I was afraid of being on SWF.", you said. "And abandoned is a harsh word."

"Is it now? What would you call it then? It surely wasn't a friendly seperation."

God, why was she so beautiful when she was angry? You could barely concentrate on your answers.

You bit your lip nervously. "Look. This is just how things had to be. I would have destroyed everything if I stayed."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

She had walked you so far back that your back hit the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. But now you were annoyed that you rolled your eyes. How could such a smart woman be this oblivious?

"I have told you a hundred times, why. If you still don't connect the dots, that's on you.", you huffed.

She seemed to think and with every passing second your heart broke into piece after piece. Hot and silent tears rolled down your cheeks. She still didn't understand a thing.

"I love you.", you whispered, but in the silence between you it seemed like you had screamed it.

"What?"

"I have always loved you. And I probably always will. Not as a student. Not as a friend. It's not admiration nor fondness. It is love. I suffered, knowing you could never feel the same for me. Every hug, every kiss on the cheek, every time you brushed my hair after a dance session, it felt so good that I wanted it again and again, but it also hurt so much every time. I can't have you, and I didn't want to watch you find a man and become happy with him. I'm selfish like that. So before I ruin everything for you, I left. There you have it, that's the reason."

"You love me?", she asked, and her eyes fell to your lips. That gaze alone made you throw all logic and reason overboard. You grabbed her face and pressed your lips to hers. To your surprise she didn't push you away as you put all your longing into the kiss, all the words you couldn't possibly say. After a moment the kiss faded out and you parted.

"I'm sorry...", you whispered.

"I should apologize...", she whispered back. "I think I always knew... but I was afraid..."

"What? You knew? Afraid of what?", you asked and blinked in confusion.

"Afraid to admit that I feel the same.", Monika said then.

You widened your eyes. Were you dreaming? This couldn't be reality. To test it, you turned her around and pressed her to the wall. "What do you mean, you feel the same?"

"I love you... sorry, that I only realize it now."

"Really?"

"Yes. But I don't think I would be a good partner for you.", she said but you weren't even listening anymore, you just pulled her into a kiss.

"...Y/N... I'm too old for you...", she almost moaned between kisses.

"Don't care...", you said, as your lips moved to her neck.

"what would the others think...?", she tried to argue.

"Don't care...", you said again, as your lips captured hers into a kiss.

You felt her smirk against your lips. "You're unbelievable."

Finally she gave in to her desires and kissed you back with the same passion, invading your mouth with her tongue. You melted into the kiss, your hands all over her body. You lifted her onto the counter with the sinks and stood between her legs, your fingers digging into her thighs.

She emerged first from the bathroom and went to get her make up refreshed. You did the same. The make up staff gave you a weird look when they saw something on your neck.

Kirsten looked at you weird, when you came back. "Girl, where were you? I was so worried!"

You just sat down and smirked.

"Apparently she had a good time.", Ling mused and pointed to a faint dark spot under a heavy load of concealer.

"A hickey????", Kirsten almost screamed.

"Shut the fuck up! There are cameras!", you hissed.

"Who did that? It's so big!", Kirsten whispered.

You smirked. "If you think that's a lot, then you should see her thighs..."

"Her thighs? Who?", Ling asked and followed your not so subtle gaze to Monika, who already sat with the other judges again and happily conversed with them. Her lap was covered with a blanket. She would say, it's because of her short skirt.

But we all know the real reason, don't we?

[a-cat-in-toffee]

this doesn't feel long enough for ao3 and I don't feel like doing tags rn have civilian au Williams and Dakota being gay

"So what, you're like, a real life hero?" Dakota shouldered the bag, bouncing along next to William. "That's so cool."

He shrugged, eyes flitting from nearby person to person. "It's kinda cool, I guess. I'm not like- I mean we're still in training, but..."

"But you still go on missions! And fight stuff!" Dakota grinned widely, hopping to avoid cracks in the sidewalk.

"Eh, not much fighting stuff." Or missions, if he was being completely transparent, which he often had to be. Ha. Invisibility joke. "We're generally more stealthy than fighty."

"That's still really cool, though!" Dakota insisted. "You're still saving people."

William laughed slightly. Dakota had such a black and white view of heroism, it was sort of... refreshing? William was so constantly in his own head about morality, and if what he was doing was really worth it, that talking to Dakota about it felt like getting dunked in cold water and realizing he had been overheating.

"So do you have a super cool secret base?" The smile on Dakota's face was infectious, William found. It was hard to be too angsty around him.

"I guess, yeah. I dont think it'd be a good idea to show you, though."

Dakota sighed dramatically, leaning against William and bringing a hand to his forehead. He probably would have said something dumb, something in butchered old English maybe, but he apparently forgot to account for one thing in his theatrics. William was weak as shit.

Almost instantly William, with a yelp, stumbled backwards into the street. Dakota fell with him, and the two of them landed next to eachother. Dakota's arm was across William's chest, the contact warm and burning only for a second before Dakota sits up, looking down at William. The two are silent for a moment.

Then, Dakota bursts out laughing. "Dude-"

"Not all of us can support the weight of another, Dakota!" William laughed along, letting his head fall down onto the pavement.

"It's not even about that, though! You're a hero, don't you know anything about stance?"

William's chest hurt. It felt good. "I told you! We do stealth shit!"

"They should still teach you basic fighting!"

He lulled his head over, looking at Dakota. His hair had fallen even more out of place, and William felt an urge to fix it. Whoa, bust, calm down there. He smiled down at Will, face barely catching the light from the streetlamp.

"Maybe you can teach me sometime."

"Well clearly I have to!" He looked so pretty. "Whats gonna happen if you get in a fight?"

"I'm sure the others could take care of it."

Dakota sighed, laying down next to William, once more dramatically bringing his wrist to his forehead. "Woe is me, mine darling husband was shipped off to fight in the war, but they didn't teach him how to fight, and he caught a stray bullet whilst on a train."

William felt his face heat up. "And we got married when?"

"Why, quite a many few years ago, of course. My momma didn't approve of you, thought you were a real wrongen," William laughed at the fake accent Dakota had put on as he talked, "But you were an honest one, and you won her over. Now, what I don't know is that you've been sleepin' a little closer in your cot with your bunkmate- and I won't ever find out once the war takes you, but it's fine. I'll find solace in Ashe, who has been my darling friend since childhood."

"Dakota."

"Hm?"

"If you were my husband and I got sent off to the war, I would never cheat on you."

Dakota frowned. "Now I feel kind of bad. Ashe was going to move in with me in order to help me through my grief and tend to affairs. We wouldn't get married but all the village children would whisper."

William was laughing again. He couldnt remember a time he had laughed this much in one conversation. "It's okay- it wouldn't matter if I was dead, right?"

He hummed. "What if your bunkmate was Vyncent?"

"Okay!" He stood up, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks. "We should get out of the road."

Dakota laughed at him, grinning as wide as before as he teetered off into giggles. Will offered out his hand, looking away when Dakota grabbed it and pulled himself up. He then made the objectively bad decision to look back, being met with Dakotas face much closer than he expected.

He had freckles. They were small and hard to notice, which William thought was odd considering how sun-kissed Dakota's skin was, but now that he saw them he couldn't unsee them.

"Sorry for suggesting you would have an affair with your bunkmate." He giggled. "I forgot you wrote the perfect husband, and would never ever cheat on me, even with cute purple haired boys."

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Was William dying? Was this it? Is the what a heart attack felt like?

"Dakota, we're still in the middle of the street."

Dakota sighed, not letting go of William's hand and tugging him along back to the sidewalk. "Of course, of course. And we have to worry about all this traffic!" With his free hand he gestured to the empty street.

"You never know."

William felt as Dakota's hand relaxed, but instead of letting go, laced their fingers together.

Oh god.

Oh no.

William was so fucked.

"Yeah, sure. Let's just get to the bus stop, then you can go home to your awesome and dope superhero base, okay?"

William laughed. "Yeah, okay."

"Best husband." Dakota said it like a concrete fact, grinning, and William's heart did a flip.

He was so fucked and there was nothing he could do about it.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

brilliant minds episode feat. SUSAN BAY NIMOY are you kidding me thoughts

ah, a timeskip in the flashbacks! now wolf is an Older Teen who is Different From The Others—at first you think because he’s got his nose in a medical textbook all the time, but then you look at the very heterosexual group of peers he’s distant from and realize that if he didn’t know as a younger teen, he definitely knows by now that he’s gay

“heartbeats,” oh man! a little anachronistic, but it’s a good mood-setting song for this sequence

(i do think dating a member of the family hosting you in a foreign country is a bad move, independent of the risk of period-typical homophobia. obviously not the primary concern for anyone in this scene, ijs.)

and the patient of focus is an elderly woman who has become very sexually active since her husband’s death. her sons finding this “inappropriate” is laughable to me, but i recognize that this is because i’ve heard too many “STDs run rampant in nursing homes because elderly heterosexuals don’t use protection and are rarely monogamous” stories on this cursed website

tangentially related: why tf do the sons think they have any say over what medications their mother takes?? they’ve been involved in the conversations about her health, yeah, but all the procedures and treatments were done with her consent. then the second wolf brings up libido enhancers they come in all “whoa now, we don’t approve of that!” and??? it’s not your call, buddy

all this to say: an episode theme of shame projected by relatives onto “inappropriate” forms of sexuality is a solid choice here.

the patient’s sons wanted their mother to gracefully transition from nonsexual maternal figure to nonsexual grandmaternal figure, never acknowledging her personhood independent of that connection to them and theirs; wolf’s mother wanted to keep him an innocent child, free from the dangers of gay adulthood that she had witnessed in her practice. eternal mother, eternal child, dehumanizing either way. i’m glad both groups seem to have moved on from that way of thinking by end of episode.

wolf thinking his mom said something to scare nichols off, and all she said was “don’t hurt him”?? god, nichols what is wrong with you (affectionate)

wolf and nichols were so cute prior to that moment! that embarrassing early days all over each other eagerness (in your workplace? multiple times?? where your mother also works??? if i didn’t already know wolf was a big risk-taker…), but also being able to tease each other over silly little things like utensil preferences? cute.

and then! “pain is inevitable, but so is joy”? i mean, i disagree—as someone who has been deeply depressed for over half my life, i don’t think joy is inevitable, i think it’s something you have to seek out and grab on to—but damn it’s a good line. (followed by the return of “heartbeats,” aw! falling fast are we, wolf?)

indirect spock reference my beloved! (i mean, with susan as the guest star you gotta, right?)

i am worried about carol’s stalker patient storyline. your husband cheated, went no contact with her, and then she looked you up online and became your patient?? girl. you cannot let this continue! even if she threatens to do something to herself as a result of you removing yourself from her care team! especially then, god damn, are you new? if patients threaten their lives there are steps to take.

also talk to your husband about this, he needs to know girl is escalating

dana’s expression is so delighted when the patient’s two boyfriends come to visit. i love her.

i really do not know how to feel about intern love triangle developments this episode. 1. imo the ericka → jacob feelings came out of nowhere, totally unexplained, and they continue to be presented in the most boring way possible (someone else says something sexual or romantic, cut to a longing look from ericka). 2. the twist at the end was fun but i have no idea what it means. is ericka using van? did she actually have a crush on him the whole time and pretended to pine over jacob to keep van from finding out? does she like both of them?? the messiness is unexpected of ericka, and i could be into it for that reason alone, but i need more info. maybe next episode will provide!

[sailorstarr-chan4]

What your favorite Sailor Moon Character says about you:

Sailor Moon: You are a slut for romantic tropes and quick to cry and that's okay.... But you might wanna work on your savior complex, honey Tuxedo Mask: You just want a trophy husband, and you know what? Good for you! Sailor Mercury: You're the "mom friend" and are a great listener, but you struggle opening up and have a tendency to suppress your more "uncomfortable" feelings in order to make sure everyone around you is happy and secure Sailor Mars: You have a humiliation kink and aspire to either date a woman or BE a woman who looks hot AF and graceful in heels. You also probably have very strong feelings about her personality change from manga to anime Sailor Jupiter: You like a woman who can break you in half, but also bake you delicious cookies. Also, she's probably your gay or bi awakening Sailor Venus: You weren't popular in school, but you aspired to be, and are a firm believer in the mantra "fake it till you make it" Sailor Pluto: You have a martyr complex and untreated depression. Asking for help is NOT a weakness! Sailor Uranus: You're into butches Sailor Neptune: You're into femmes Sailor Uranus & Sailor Neptune: You're either queer, or you have an uncomfortable definition of the term "cousin" Sailor Saturn: You shop at Hot Topic and listen to emo music, but are also trying to work on your mental health, good job! Chibiusa: You probably have Daddy Issues or Mommy Issues. Or both. Helios: You had a crush on Legolas and are weak for Pretty Boys in general. Also, you may or may not be a closet furry or a fan of My Little Pony Four Kings of Heaven: You're either a gay man or a yaoi fangirl Queen Beryl: You just really wanna be stepped on, huh? Prince Dimande: You can pinpoint the exact moment when you hit puberty and realized you liked Bad Boys Amazoness Quartet: You're stylish, queer, and just want to watch the world burn Galaxia: You have a God Complex and might want to seek therapy. Or you just want a Dom girlfriend Seiya: You're a slut for Unrequited Love in media and ship all of the doomed ships Luna: You constantly wonder how everyone can be so incredibly stupid Artemis: Simp. You're just a simp. Naru: You're the sensitive friend who needs to be handled with kid gloves, but everyone loves you and thinks you're a precious bean Umino: You were definitely the annoying nerd in school and have a soft spot for underdogs

(Feel free to add more! This is all in good fun! ❤ Shout-out to @risingfire17-the-weeb-trash for helping me with this list.)

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

Another fic I wrote, based on a scene in Season 8, episode 5 'The Confession'. I thought it was sweet-

Summary: House finds out Wilsons taking care of Taubs daughters, and figures out why.

Word count: 814.

This is slash

Warning: slight swearing, gay men 🤭 & mention of trans pregnancy (non actually displayed.)

House obviously has always been a person to solve puzzles. Picking at the discreet clues and gluing them together, trying to read them. But, he did indeed have a case to focus on, he also had a side one. Now that Chase and Taub were back, he had a full team. Adams and Park included. But there was something off about Taub, he was almost rushed and eager to finish things. He also kept going into Wilsons office, which was suspicious in itself as Wilson was his husband, not Taubs. House had to figure out what the two were doing, obviously, it was a new case.

Wilson hummed quietly, cradling one of the baby's in his arms while the other played happily on the ground with a few blocks. Baby #1 cooed at Wilsons humming as he smiled down at her. He hadn't yet learnt who's who, as they look like twins, but they have different mums. Wilson rocked side to side on his feet, until there was a knock at the door. He froze and stopped humming.

"It's me Wilson, " Taubs voice called.

Wilson sighed of relief as he unlocked and opened the door. Wilson giggled as he immediately handed over baby #1 to her dad, as the other crawled over.

"I miss Ezra when he was a baby, so easy, now he just asks for money, " Wilson chuckled, picking baby #2 up and holding her.

"How old is Ezra again? " Taub asked, tickling his daughter and closing the door behind him.

Wilson sighed, "twenty-one. "

"Isn't that when you have House even met? "

"It was meant to be a one-night-stand, "  Wilson muttered with a soft laugh.

"What? " Taub questioned.

"Never mind. "

"But your mal- "

"Never mind! "

Wilson looked down almost in embarrassment, but quickly perked up as he realized why Taub was actually here, not just to ask about his personal life.

"They're doing good, just keeping them busy, I guess, " Wilson explained, smiling again.

"Perfect, I'll be done in like an hour, so hopefully, you'll be good. " Taub handed Wilson back baby #1.

Wilson smiled, trying to hold them both, waved and locked the door again.

House saw Taub walk back from Wilsons office, with a confused expression. House was puzzled, but now decided it was time to actually see what Taub was doing with his husband. He made his hand into a fist and pounded on the office door. Nothing happened. So he tried to open it, with no luck. Damn him, he locked it. House pounded again.

"I spent a month in solidarity. You don't think I can keep this up all day! " House shouted, continuing to pound on the door.

Scrambling was heard inside the office as the door finally unlocked and opened.

"I have a headache, can you lower your voice, " Wilson mumbled.

"Chase and Taub are back! " House yelled.

Wilson winced, which was quite believable. House looked at Wilson with a look of sympathy, but quickly lost it as he remembered what he was in here for.

"You want me to pick up an ice cream cake? " Wilson retorted.

"I also think Taub has brought his little Taubettes into work with him today, " House explained, matter-of-factly.

"Why would he do that? " Wilson questioned, a feeling in his gut now appearing; fear.

"Because I didn't give him enough time to do anything else, " House continued, pausing for a moment. "Then I started wondering, who'd be sappy enough to watch them for him? "

"Well they're not here, " Wilson remarked suspiciously quickly.

House furrowed his eye brows, "what? I just came here for a talk with my own husband? What's that I smell, dear husband? "

"I understand your confusion, but I got hungry and ate a baby for lunch. " Wilson paused as House looked under Wilsons desk. "I have a massive migraine, can you just like go away? "

"You should probably lay down and rest. " House nodded.

"Yeah, I was trying to, " Wilson grunted.

House took one last look and walked towards the door, teasing.

"Oh! One last thing... "

House walked towards the blinds of the balcony door, and opened them, smirking. There outside was a few toys and the two Taubettes.

"Look- "

"Nuh-huh, I know what you mean. " House liked towards Wilson and stood incredibly close to him. "You miss Ezra. "

Wilson gulped and looked at House.

"Don't you? He's twenty-one and he's living in Minneapolis, that's 20 hours away. " Wilson threw up his arms. "Don't you miss when he was a child, cuddled up into you and just slept? "

Wilson teared up slightly.

"Yeah, I do. "

House wrapped his arms around his husband. Said husband dug his face into the crook of Houses neck.

"Could always have another one? "

"I'm 45. "

"Oldest birth was 65 I think.. "

"No, no it's okay. "

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's embrace.

"They're still out there. "

"Ah shit. "

[very-sleepy-head]

Spit and swallow

Mickey discovering his spit kink [extended addition].

Part 1 (kinkmas day 14)

Part 2

By the time Mickey realized what was going on Ian had him pinned to the wall with his knee shoved up against his crotch and his hands holding Mickey’s hands above his head.

Fuck.

Mickey couldn’t help but moan.

They just got ready for bed after a night out with friends and they were both only in their underwear. Mickey knew talking about their sex life with their friends was going to come bite him in the ass. And not in a good way.

Maybe lying about their sex life sort of made it worse.

Mickey felt Ian’s hot breath on his neck and his own breath shuttered.

"It's kinda cute how ‘such a tough guy can become a horny mess with just a few pushes’ , don’t you think?” Ian whispered against his ear before biting his earlobe. Mickey’s hips pushed forwards, trying to get closer to Ian.

Yep, Ian was repeating Mickey’s exact words from earlier tonight. Not his finest moment.

Read on Ao3

Ian continued, “It's funny how you were bragging to our friends how you’d never let anyone control you in bed ,” Ian mocked, “but now look at you, don’t look so tough right now. Cute little slut.”

“Ian–” Mickey was silenced mid sentence when Ian bit his neck.

“I didn't say you could talk, did I?” Ian let go of Mickey's arms, who let them fall to his sides with a thud.

Ian pulled back, just a little, and grinned. “Bet I could spit in your mouth and you'd thank me for it, wouldn't you, baby?”

Mickey wasn’t ready to back down so quickly. “Maybe. If you asked nicely.” He snarked back.

Ian paused for a moment. “Hmmm…Maybe later. Different plan. On your knees.”

It took a split second for the command to register but quickly Mickey scrambled to the right position. Mickey kneeled down with his hands on his knees and his head looking up at Ian as he waited for Ian’s next move.

Ian took this opportunity to appreciate his husband's body below him. His thick thighs, his milky skin, his pink nipples. He waited a few moments, letting Mickey’s position sink in, giving him a chance to adjust his mindset.

There was something really satisfying about being on his knees for Ian. Maybe it was because he'd grown enough to realize it didn't make him more gay than getting fucked by Ian. Or maybe it was because Mickey loved the feeling of having Ian's eyes on him.

Ian’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I think I want an apology,” Ian said, breaking the silence.

“Come on!” Mickey whined.

Ian raised an eyebrow in amused disapproval. “What?”

Mickey huffed, “Ian…” dragging out the word.

“Whining again,” Ian said, very calmly. Ian counted to ten in his head, nice and slow, and said, “Do you know how to talk properly now?”

“I do,” Mickey grumbled.

“And?”

Mickey huffed out a little breath. “Sorry for saying I boss you in bed. And…”

“And?” Ian prompted.

“And I don’t know! I’m trying my best, man, I really am, I don’t–”

Ian snorted. “You’re doing your best?”

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” Mickey said.

“Try again.”

Mickey pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, then tilted his head down, forehead resting against Ian’s thigh. Ian waited in silence, letting Mickey take his time.

“Help me?” Mickey whispered.

He lingered like that, and after a few seconds, Ian’s fingers slipped into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, before they moved lower, to caress the back of his neck.

“Open your eyes,” Ian instructed.

Mickey did as he was told, his eyes glazed as he struggled to focus on Ian. Ian bent down to kiss him, only briefly, and Mickey’s lips relaxed against his. Ian pulled back.

“If you look away, I’ll stop,” Ian warned but there was no sting, but the threat still made Mickey shudder. “You’ll sit here, you’ll put your hands where they belong, and you’ll let me fuck that lying mouth of yours. Got it?”

Mickey was getting embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this, at how easy it is for Ian to play with him, at how hard it got him.

He nodded, and Ian considered him for a few seconds, before he pushed two fingers into Mickey’s mouth. Mickey took them easily, letting them press flat against his tongue, gazing up at Ian, who held his gaze. He sucked on Ian’s fingers, focusing on Ian’s warm voice. “You will let me do this and then we can play.” It wasn’t really a question but Mickey considered the words before he hummed in agreement. Ian grinned and pushed his fingers in deeper, letting his husband choke on them slightly.

Mickey took a deep breath through his nose, letting Ian’s fingers linger in his mouth, and tried to get himself into a headspace that might allow him to be still and patient and wait.

“Just like that. You love being told what to do, don’t you?” Ian cooed.

That annoying bastard.

Mickey could bite him.

Fuck , he could bite him.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t.

He shivered, and Ian pushed his fingers in deeper, until he choked again.

Ian pulled his fingers out of Mickey’s mouth. “Be good.”

Ian straightened up. A slow, dangerous smile curled across Ian’s face and Mickey shivered again, chewing on his lower lip. “Keep that pretty mouth open.”

Mickey let his mouth drop open without a word, let his tongue hang out.

Ian slid his fingers into Mickey’s hair, holding his head in place as dragged his boxers down slowly, just to tease Mickey, smirking when Mickey licked his lips. As soon as his cock was in front of him, Mickey took a deep breath, his hands curling into fists as he fought to hold still. His mouth hung open, as wide as he could, waiting and ready.

Ian traced the tip of his dick along Mickey’s lower lip. Mickey’s breath hitched, and he swallowed hard to keep himself from licking his lips. He managed to control himself and waited patiently under Ian’s gaze.

“Deep breath.”

Mickey obeyed, and as he exhaled, Ian pushed his cock into his mouth. Mickey moaned around Ian’s cock and relaxed his throat as much as he could.

Mickey loved the taste of Ian, loved the weight and warmth in his mouth.

Ian placed both of his hands on the back of Mickey’s head and started to fuck into the warm mouth in a slow pace. The head of Ian’s cock hit the back of Mickey’s throat with every thrust, moving faster and faster.

Mickey’s eyes stayed on Ian, drinking in the sexy expression on his face. The power to make Ian feel so good satisfied him, even if he really craved Ian’s touch.

The most torturous part about all this was the fact that Mickey couldn't touch himself. He was so horny and his own cock itched for attention. Technically, Ian never said he couldn’t, but if he knew what was good for him, he’d wait for permission.

He gasped when Ian pulled out for a second to let him breathe. Mickey panted, letting his chin rest on Ian’s leg while still looking up at Ian through teary eyes

"Fuck," Mickey muttered against Ian’s thigh.

"Oh, is it that good, baby?” Ian teased

Mickey nodded desperately. He wasn’t going to lie to Ian, he already knows how much he likes his cock in his mouth.

Ian bent down again, kissing Mickey’s mouth. The kiss only stayed innocent for a second, the press of lips changing as soon as Mickey opened his mouth, the younger man’s tongue eagerly entering his mouth. It was heated and sloppy, and Mickey needed more.

“Please, Red, I want…” Mickey’s voice was hoarse.

“What do you want, Mickey?”

“Anything!”

“Are you sure?” Ian cocked an eyebrow when Mickey swallowed hard and nodded.

Again, there is absolutely no hesitation. “Yes.”

Mickey whined as Ian straightened up, still on his knees but not seated, and Mickey wanted to shuffle closer to him, but he stayed still, sitting on his heels with his eyes on the ground.

“Hey, look at me,” Ian said, his voice was sharp but Mickey could tell he wanted to see his eyes, always checking in.

Suddenly their size difference felt more obvious. They’re both on the ground and yet Ian is towering over Mickey.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, and Mickey’s mouth parted immediately. “Stick your tongue out for me.”

Mickey pulled his tongue out, and Ian leaned forward and spat directly into his mouth.

Holy shit.

This is the first time Ian did it since that day Mickey brought it up. And it was just as hot as he remembered.

“Swallow.”

Mickey swallowed quickly as Ian’s hand cupped the side of his face. Mickey whimpered, immediately being put back in his place with the touch of Ian’s fingers on his skin.

Before Ian could order him again, he opened his mouth, both to show his task was fulfilled and he was ready for more.

‘He's learning fast,’ Ian thought to himself with a smile.

"Again." Ian told him as Mickey’s lips hung open and Ian spat between them once more. “Swallow.”

Mickey obeyed him quickly, and Ian smiled down at him and patting his cheek gently. He didn’t even have to ask this time.

Mickey mumbled a shy “Thank you.” that took Ian by surprise until he remembered. He did say Mickey would thank him for it. Huh.

Mickey clasped his hands behind his back and kept his mouth hanging open, his eyes never losing contact with Ian’s, a blush warm on his cheeks.

“What? Are you embarrassed, Mick?” Mickey felt his hips jolt.

Ian looked down at Mickey's body, still sitting on his heels and his cock was hard, pressing against underwear, creating a wet spot.

"Having fun there, sweetheart?"

Mickey just nodded, tongue slipping out across his lower lip.

“Get naked.”

Mickey quickly pulled his underwear down and out of the way.

“You can touch yourself,” Ian said sternly. “If you want to cum, you ask. Do you understand?”

Mickey nodded.

“One more question,” he promised, hands moving to Mickey’s hair, pushing his head back a bit. “Do you want me to continue?”

Fuck.

Ian’s eyes sparkled with excitement when Mickey nodded again.

As always kudos / comments / reblogs are welcome 🖤