#well it's IMPLIED but it's there. shut the fuck up.

[perfctvelvet]

Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please

The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).

"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."

It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.

You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.

"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."

Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.

Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence. 

Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.

"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"

Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.

You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.

"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?

Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore. 

You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.

Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.

Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.

Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.

"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"

You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.

"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.

"Still playing dumb, huh?"

There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.

"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."

Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.

"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"

Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet. 

"Pick a number, baby."

You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?

"Pick a number. 1-3."

It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.

"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.

The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.

"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."

You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.

The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.

"Get up."

Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.

"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."

She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.

Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.

"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."

Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.

It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.

"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.

The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.

She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.

It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.

Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?' 

You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.

"I think you left a present over there."

She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.

"Oh god," you groan.

"We can always sleep in the other room."

"I don't think I can move, Bil."

You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SURVIVAL. featuring sniper mask.

↻ sniper mask is a good man… right?

tags : outdoor sex, misogyny, manipulation, creampie, spanking, fucking to survive (not really but he says it is), wall sex, orgasm delay, slight mask kink, god complex!sniper mask, implied dubcon // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sighs and screams and sobs all over the place. i didn’t actually get down to watching high rise invasion until recently and now i suddenly need sniper mask everywhere and anywhere all at once. poor guy is SURROUNDED by women who he can’t have (and i could change that :p) i know we aren’t quite done with this event yet but i want to thank everyone for all the support i’ve received!! follower numbers have soared and i feel more motivation than ever <3 keep liking n reblogging to help a girl out, and enjoy this one !! i love you all and here’s to almost 800 followers !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

ever heard of the saying ‘boys will be boys’? it’s massively toxic, and mostly used to excuse the inappropriate actions of boys (or more predominantly, men), especially in situations where said boy (or man) is deemed respectable for the most part. 

for the most part, SNIPER MASK is a respectable man. of all the girls he’s come across in this realm, he has made it his duty to protect them because he knows that as a man, it is up to him to ensure women’s safety. he may even call himself a feminist, but that may be a step too far. 

that’s because what sniper mask is doing now is very very far from what anyone would call feminism. in fact, he’s acting in accordance to the famed statement, ‘boys will be boys’, except he considers himself a man. and as a man, he has a right to feel manly urges. 

lying to a vulnerable girl such as yourself isn’t very respectable of him, but it’s been ages since he’s had a good fuck, and he can’t deny himself after everything he’s done for all the other ditzs in this realm. he’ll apologise after, he promises, but for now, he can only focus on the way your cunt has him in a death grip. 

“m-mr. mask…” you’re pathetic. he told you that you needed to do this to practise building stamina for future disputes, knowing full well that his stamina is fine, and you won’t be getting involved in combat if he had anything to do with it. you’re just such an airhead, so dainty and fragile and easily scared by the stupidest things, and it would pain him to leave you all alone by yourself. 

“i know, sweetheart, but we need to do this. it’s necessary to ensure your and my survival.” it absolutely isn’t, but he’s telling you that to keep himself warm and snug inside your cunt. he has you pressed up against the wall of one of the abandoned high rises, far away enough from the rest of the players to make sure he doesn’t get caught. 

your eyes flicker into the back of your head as your hands brace against the wall, bare nipples pressed into the brick through your torn shirt. “s-shit, ‘m gonna cum—“

sniper’s hands grip onto your hips hard, gloved fingers staining your flesh with fresh bruises as he pulls you back on his length repeatedly. “can’t have you cummin’ yet, angel. you have to hold it. stamina, remember?”

your eyes widen as you remember what he said. you have to hold out for as long as possible. do as he says because he’s a mask and you’re just a human, and a weak one at that. his experience surpasses yours tenfold, so he knows what’s best for your survival, right? 

so you hold it for him, cunt clenching down tightly and hands forming into fists as you squeeze your eyes shut. he isn’t making it very easy for you; his blunt cockhead hits your cervix head on with every thrust, and his hands periodically crawl around your torso to play with your nipples. to add on to the sensations, it’s beginning to get a little windy out, and the cool breeze brushes against your agitated clit, causing small streams of wetness to spurt from your depths with every thrust. 

you want to give up. you wish you could just give up on this whole stamina building exercise and let the masks kill you, but sniper’s cock feels so good, and if he doesn’t let you cum soon, you might lose what little brain cells you have left. 

“i know you want it, doll, but y’gonna have to be patient, okay?” his deep voice rattles through his mask. “gotta hold out f’me. gonna make you a great fighter, okay?”

“y-yes sir,” you whimper, gasping when his gloved hand comes down on your ass with a slap! 

“good girl. turn around f’me.” he unsheathes his cock and watches you struggle to turn around on shaky legs, back now pressed to the wall and thighs slightly parted as your tits spill out of your shirt. you look like a mess, eyelids drooping and lips parted gently, and he wonders why oh why you haven’t caught onto his scheme yet. 

you, on the other hand, are confused for different reasons. you can’t even see his face, for crying out loud, so why do you want him to keep fucking you so bad? thoughts of stamina building or whatever fly right out of the window as he presses your waist back up against the wall, pulling your leg around his waist before lining his tip up with your hole. 

“you can cum for me this time, doll. i think it’s about time you felt some real pleasure.” there he goes again, helping out poor little girls like you down on their luck. 

he even has the audacity to smile to himself under his mask as he watches you convulse from orgasm, your tiny hands squeezing his biceps and eyes rolling into the back of your head lewdly. he follows not too long after, his grunts as shallow as his thrusts as he spurts rope after rope into your twitching cunt. 

does he feel bad for cumming inside? not really. girls like you are only good for one thing in a place like this; to be good, compliant little cumdumps for respectable, hardworking men like himself. 

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[insomniactic-daydream]

Since I Survived..

Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader

Summary: Both of you are pro heroes in your prime. But after a gut-wrenching dream, Bakugo considers other plans for his life with you.

This is an alternate happy ending of 'Beside You' cause I don't want my readers to be depressed. 😭

I recommend reading that first but it can be a stand alone.

Part 1 (Sorta) 》 'Beside You'

TW: Implied deaths, Children (idk if that considered a tw but oh well)

Bakugo's vision starts to dim as he holds you under all the rubble of the collapsed building.

Even though he couldn't save the both of you, he wants to make sure the last thing he sees is his wife angelic face.

It's a shitty way to die. The both of you impaled by a metal bar with no way of escaping and an even smaller chance of survival. Yet, but at least he had you with him.

"I couldn't imagine breathing without you, Kats.." you say in cutting breaths as you use all of your remaining strength to hold him close. Smiling weakly, knowing at least you'd go together.

"Good thing we don't have to, princess." Bakugo heaves out, saying your nickname for the last time as he presses his lips onto yours. Taking each other's last breath...

"PA!"

Bakugo wakes up in a jolt as he gets smacked in the face. Sitting up with a teary-eyed face.

He looks and finds the culprit of his stolen slumber, or savior from that horrible nightmare.

"Papa didn't want to wake up, and Mama said to smack you if you didn't." the blonde and crimson eyed little girl says as she scrambles onto the bed and into his lap.

Katsumi looks at her father's face. For a 6 year old, she is very emotionally perceptive. "Is Papa alright?" She says, reaching to touch his face.

Although the grogginess still lingers, he gives her a big and long embrace.

"I'm fine, princess. Your Pops just had a nightmare, is all." He says while giving her a rare genuine smile. Thank fuck it was a dream.

He held her for what seemed like ages, and yet she didn't mind; after all, she was still your daughter too. Her kindness is genetic.

However, it was not long after that the emotional silence was ruined.

"KATSUKI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS UP," your voice projects from the kitchen as the smell of breakfast lingers. The two blondes share a laugh before getting off the bed.

Bakugo picks Katsumi up in his arms. "Cmon, our queen is waiting." He says while heading towards the kitchen; using his upgraded nickname for you after you had Katsumi.

He never thought he'd end up here, with kids and a loving wife who hasn't gotten tired of him yet.

Even if the dream was different by the two of you not having Katsumi, his heart still warmed that at least you were the thing that didn't change in his life.

Bakugo is so deep into thought about the dream that he didn't notice he arrived at the kitchen. Guess the dream really opened his eyes about the hero work the two of you been doing.

"Kats?" You say concerned at his blank gaze and hold on Kastumi. His attention now back to reality after your voice.

"You alright, honey?" You say while grabbing Katsumi from his arm and placing her in the chair seated next to her infant brother's high chair. Babbling away like infants do.

Before you can even turn back around to him, he attacks you with a hug. You look at your daughter questionably, but she only shrugs and continues to feed her brother.

"You alright there, you big oaf? ...Kats?" You say before turning around and seeing his teary-eyed face.

"Shut up." He says quickly so he can avoid your questioning. You only sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around him, too.

"Do I at least get to know what this is about?" You say as your husband's grasp tightens.

"We should quit."

"What?" You say confused. Things are going well for the two of your careers, even being in the top 3 from time to time. Hell, he just made number 1 last year.

"We should retire our old asses and enjoy our fucking lives til we're grey and wrinkly." He says in a mumble swaying you back and forth.

"Fuck is a bad word papa."

"Katsumi," You scold the child before sighing. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but where's this coming from." You question the vulnerable blonder.

"Mm just had a shi- poopy butt dream," he says, trying to make his sentence child friendly, earning a giggle from his daughter and a chuckled from you. Still, you investigate further.

"About?"

"We didn't make it back from a mission. We held each other til the end, but I don't want that for us," He says quietly to avoid the childs prying ear while his grip tightens on you.

You stiffen. Dying during a mission and leaving the kids behind? That thought left a nasty taste in your tongue and an even bigger ache in your heart.

This time you hold him tighter.

"Guess I'll have to tell the commission that I won't be back from maternity leave then." You say, peppering him with kisses. He let's out a sigh of relief. Being glad that you're both on the same page.

"I think I should just leave the agency to Red then. The interns are going to give me so much crap about being old." He chuckles while kissing you back. Yet his hold on you stays.

A comfortable silence lingers for a little.

"Thank you for keeping up with my crap." He says quietly. His vulnerable insecurity of not being good enough for you showing.

"Til I'm grey and wrinkly, Kats." causing him to chuckle. You always knew how to reassure him.

"Til we're gray and wrinkly."

And with no tragic ends in sight.

Doing this instead of the 8 assignments due tomorrow night. 😭

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[ragsy]

"Olive Branch Unlimited Pasta Pass"

A less-than friendly encounter between Dogmark and Kenneth. 993 words. Read under the cut 👇

---

Mark grimaced at the jangle of the shop bell. It was ten minutes to closing; surely nobody needed taxidermy services this urgently. He was going to have to fucking sweep again, and why can't these people ever just put the dead cat in the damn freezer for the night?

He was halfway through his Customer Service Greeting-- a dry and listless "Hi, let me know if you need anything" with an implied "I hope you don't," when--

"Oh. Uh. Hi Kenneth," Mark coughed.

Kenneth, as it were, stepped into the Tucksidermy shop, taking in the many display shelves of magician squirrels, burlesque raccoons, and deer with hats, before finally catching Mark's attention. He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Ah! Mark! Working hard?"

Kenneth let the shop door swing shut behind him; he held a large tupperware container tucked under one elbow, and his other hand gripped something in his pocket. For a man who had walked with a cane for as long as Mark knew him, Kenneth was moving with awfully fluid, easy strides.

Mark eyed the container with heavy suspicion. If there was someone's dearly departed family pet in there, he just might scream.

"Just. Uh. Closing up for the night," he said, setting his broom aside.

"Fantastic!" grinned the older man. "Then I hope you don't mind me asking: is Tuck in?"

Mark's pointed ears flicked.

Tuck had been different since coming back from the last mission. They hadn't told him everything that had happened, and the wedge between them and Kenneth remained vague handwaves and omissions. But still, holes in a story still leave behind the shape of some great and unspeakable thing.

And, if he was being honest, Mark was kinda creeped out by the way that guy was always so chipper. If he had more than a measly ounce of candor, he wouldn't have minded telling the old man to fuck off.

Mark slipped his glasses off and polished them on the front of his shirt.

"Tuck's not here," he lied.

Kenneth's face fell. "Oh! Are they, ah, are they alright?"

"Just-... Busy. I dunno."

This was, at least partially, the truth. The usual signs of Tuck is Working were present: Muffled FM radio pulsing through the wall. A hovering scent of blood and chemicals. A bearing in the workshop vent fan that squeaked at a frequency only dog ears could hear.

Kenneth furrowed his brow. "Oh. Hm."

That was another thing-- In the days since the mission to that facility, everyone had returned drained, bedraggled, frightened, or pissed off.

Everyone, that was, except Kenneth.

Kenneth, who Mark had seen take up jogging. Kenneth, whose familiar lines and wrinkles had begun to fade. Kenneth, whose sharpened eyes and revitalized wits now studied Mark, searching him for answers.

It all made Mark's skin crawl. Even as a grown-ass adult, he couldn't avoid feeling like a kid caught in a fib by a teacher. What the hell else was he supposed to say?Desperate for a break in eye contact, he replaced his glasses, grabbed the broom, and resumed sweeping.

Kenneth cleared his throat.

"Well, then, in any case, can I leave this here?" He was hoisting the container aloft in both hands. At Mark's skeptical stare at the plastic lid, he cracked open a corner, revealing a mess of pasta, tomatoes, and cheese.

Kenneth mistook Mark's sigh of relief for gratitude.

"Lasagna. I thought you both might appreciate some leftovers from dinner at Alice's house last night. So-- Ah, so sorry you had to miss it again!" The smile returned to his face. Uneasy. Apologetic.

Sorry. Right. Maybe they stayed home for a reason. Maybe they didn't want to be there with him. Maybe Tuck would have gone if he would just get rid of that fucking tape recorder. Mark's fingers twitched. Maybe he could take it from him the hard way.

He bit his tongue and swallowed his words.

"Um. Great," he said finally. He set down the broom and picked up the dustpan, dumping its contents unceremoniously in the trash.

"Ah," said Kenneth, crestfallen. Heavy silence fell over the two of them.

Once it was clear that Mark would make no move to accept the offering, Kenneth crossed the room and placed the container on the register counter. He patted the lid conclusively.

"Well, ah, I-... I hope you enjoy it!" A glimmer of hope clung to the edges of his words with desperation.

Once again, Mark said nothing. Folding his arms, his gaze darted from the tupperware, to the clock above it, to Kenneth. He sighed and swiped a hand down his face.

"Please go."

"Wh— Pardon?"

"We're closed."

Kenneth blinked. "O-oh, so soon?"

He swept his eyes across the shop. "Will, ah, will Tuck be back soon then, maybe?"

Mark thrust a clawed finger towards the door. "Get. Out," he growled, his human mask vaporized in an instant. A snarl curled up his snout, and his hackles bristled. Enough was enough.

The older man staggered backwards, eyes wide in terror. He raised his hands in submission and, without another word, fumbled open the door and slunk outside.

Mark slammed the shop door behind him and twisted the deadbolt shut. He glanced at the clock again. Five til was probably close enough.

Seething, he finished his chores and stalked out the back door.

Later, he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to Tuck's workshop.

"Hey, we're all closed up now. I'm gonna get going." His voice shook a little, but he had at least managed to hide the dog back away.

Tuck looked up from its workbench. "Oh, heya Mark," it drawled. "Customers give ya any trouble today?"

"No. All good. See you tomorrow."

He hoisted the shop trash bag on his way out the door and slung it into the dumpster. It landed against the metal bottom with a heavy thud.

Kenneth's olive branch would be left there to rot until pickup day.

[detective4blog]

I managed to write something slightly coherent and it's of course some angsty bullshit reunion moment that takes place sometime during season 4. Under the cut bc I feel bad making long posts. Also no spoilers bc I barely remember that season anyway.

Those deeply colored eyes were trained on his. The flecks of lighter blue seeming lighter with a slight joy, but drowning in the sea of rage induced navy blue fire. Those eyes were different, changed. Toughened from his past, toughened from his present; his eyes truly were like diamonds.

Still, they were Sebastian's eyes. Not the eyes of some sick criminal or twisted bastard...not to John, at least. At least he knew what happened after that pit. Sebastian hadn't died, and seemed to make a living for himself.

If clothes with dried blood stains counted as that.

"I want to make it clear that I don't care about the Holmes, either of them." He spoke, practically growling. "Keep them away from whatever fuck-all island the younger one wants to go to."

John was confused, vaguely remembering that there was some talk about someone, that Mycroft didn't want him involved since he wasn't family until Sherlock said something. "...why?"

Sebastian didn't look surprised by the question, but his silence proved he hadn't thought of a response to that question. "Spite, I suppose."

"No, I mean why warn me."

Longer silence.

"Mycroft would try to recruit me and Sherlock would just arrest me. Or talk too much and end up getting shot." The answer was said in a bored tone. As if either of those options would be an inconvenience.

John looked at the pockets of Sebastian's pants and jacket, looking for the faint shape of a firearm. That seemed to amuse the older, holding his arms out in a way that said "go on, frisk me".

Despite better judgement, John did so. Keeping far away as he could but feeling around for a weapon; gun, knife, or worse. He could feel how Sebastian's arms were larger with muscles. How he had another shirt underneath the plain button up he had on.

No weapon.

"I don't think you're a threat to me."

John raised a brow. Sebastian sighed, continuing to speak. "If it came to it, you'd hesitate to shoot me. And if you did manage to pull the trigger, it'd be somewhere that wouldn't kill me. You'd do the same if Stanford got involved in shit."

"I could break your arm." John pointed out. "Non lethal and would keep you from doing anything. Worst I could do there is make it a messy break."

Sebastian looked amused. "You'd have to grab me. If I had a gun," he made finger guns and aimed it towards John's midsection, "it'd be over. A knife, maybe you could get away with it. And you'd be betting on the fact that I can't use my other arm."

This wasn't how most people who went to school together and served together talked. Neither of them were normal anymore, it seemed. Too wrapped up in different worlds that intertwined sometimes.

"You said spite earlier. To who?"

The smile dropped from Sebastian's face at the question, eyes darkening. Not angry but mournful. "A dead man."

John crossed his arms at that answer, head tilting to the side. "You weren't always so closed about answers before."

That drew a bitter booming laugh. "You weren't always one for messy adventures."

Touché.

John stared at the man for a bit. He wanted to speak more, but what could he ask? What would Sebastian reveal? He sighed. "If you know Sherlock, you know I can't talk him out of anything."

The mention of the detective made Sebastian's face become sour with hatred. "You can try. Or not tag along. It's his loose ends to tie, not yours. You've got a kid to worry about."

John's throat went dry at the mention of Rosie. A slight moment of regret appeared in Sebastian's eyes but his face remained blank. "How did you hear about that? I haven't seen you since-"

"That dead bastard decided to keep getting updates even from the grave. Bit stupid if you ask me, since I certainly don't care what shape Sherlock's shot into the wall or your baby." Sebastian interrupted with a shrug. So casual about admitting that the man he knew spied into-

"Moriarty."

That got a reaction from Sebastian. His eyes flashed with every stage of grief, his body tensed, and his fists clenched. It all relaxed after a deep breath, eyes turning to the side. "You've gotten observant."

"Happens when you hang around observant the Holmes brothers."

Sebastian still stared at something towards his life. Likely nothing of importance, but something that was good enough to keep his mind off of the loss he still was recovering from. "I gave my warning. Don't get involved with all that. It's messy and it'll just ruin your day."

"What is 'it', exactly?"

"One of the many charming skeletons in Mycroft's closet." Sebastian finally looked at John again. His eyes were returning to the ones John knew; the ones that glimmered with playfulness and had a fire burning in the background. "Tell him I said 'hi'. It might make him a bit grumpy, though. I've been a bit of a problem for him, after all."

John was silent. Those rageful eyes from earlier were that of a criminal but the anger was not at him. Could it ever be at him? Curiosity would kill him, and heaven knew when he'd see Sebastian again. "Could you shoot if it was me?"

Sebastian stopped, his back turned and only ten steps away. "Pardon?"

"Could you shoot me?"

The man was silent. The longer it lasted, the more the possible answer started to scare John. What would he do if it was a 'yes, without hesitation'? Just walk away and pretend that finding out an old friend would shoot you if it came to it was normal?

"Probably not. You've got that kid to take care of, and I'd hate to take you away from them." Sebastian thought for a moment, a grin growing on his face. "'Sides, you've got too pretty of a body to shoot."

"Someone disagrees with you."

"Someone hasn't seen you naked, then."

John was about to comment that of course whoever shot him hadn't seen him naked before stopping. Sebastian's incident happened before he was shot. He didn't hear of that tidbit of news. He frowned, shaking his head a little. "You say that as if many people have." He instead said.

Sebastian shrugged. "I'm just happy to be one of 'em."

"I see you haven't changed."

Another booming laugh, this one with no traces of bitterness. John couldn't help but smile at it, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I don't even know who shot me."

Sebastian stopped, concern lacing his eyes. "Was it here or back then? Because if it was here, I can easily find who did it and-"

"It was during the war, Sebastian. Jesus, calm down." He forgot how scary his old friend could look when angry. Even more now that he bulked more muscles and was rather obviously a criminal.

The man just nodded at that, scratching the side of his neck. "Sorry to hear. Hope it doesn't bother you."

"Not anymore."

"Good."

Silence washed over the two again. It was obvious the conversation was being dragged on longer than it needed to be. John didn't want to let go but Sebastian was already drifting away like sand in the wind.

"See you around?" He called hopefully after the retreating blonde.

"...maybe. Probably not, though."

There was a sad bitterness in Sebastian's voice. It thickened his accent and made his already deep voice go lower.

He was still so readable after all these years. John watched him go until he couldn't make out which walking person was Sebastian, then went on his own way. He kept what was said in mind, hoping to bring it up whenever Sherlock was in a mood to accept ideas that contradicted what he wanted.

Even if keeping him away from wherever was just Sebastian being a spiteful bastard towards Moriarty one last time.

[crumbleclub]

Mike trying to rationalize why Henry is okay with his dad hurting him, even when Michael isn't okay with him hurting his siblings. Even when nobody is okay with Michael hurting his siblings.

It wasn't as bad, right? He never laid a finger on them. They were only words.

Maybe it's because Mike is older. This bleeds into his protests, his haphazard attempts to protect. "Please, he's only six." Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him the way that you hurt me.

William finds this entertaining. He makes note of these things, wonders if he'd respond differently if William tried something else.

Maybe it's because William is an adult. He learns not to trust anyone older than him, but to let them do whatever they want. He learns to freeze; to shut down.

This makes him an easy target later on.

Is it because Michael deserves it? After Evan dies, he's sure that must be it. Willian knew what he was, and he only gave him what he already had coming. Michael was a murderer, after all. He deserved everything anyone might do to him.

It was his own fault.

[thedancingclowns]

Ruh-roh-

Radiation

(Aw fuck yeah man, my memory is coming back. Fucking finally. GODDAMN I missed this series!)

[rayvern-sheep]

I have noticed an annoying increase in ppl using “hyper-fixation” to describe something they enjoy…

Please look up what terms mean instead of just repeating them because you saw someone else use it. The context they used it in might be wrong.. It makes it hard to actually talk abt this shit when everyone severely misunderstands what the term means.

It’s not as serious as misusing the term “intrusive thought” but it’s still not great.

[chaserofstarsandtheabyss]

Mother stop calling me your “biological daughter” challenge and using that to explain why you’re so upset at trans women competing in sports (impossible)

[thelambthatkilledthewolf]

Do you guys ever think about the fact that Elias Bouchard could legitimately have been/be addicted to cocaine?

Because I do

A lot

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i still can't get over my roommate implying i was autistic and my friend pulling out her phone to show me the "i'm like if a beautiful woman was an autistic little boy" meme that she'd been saving for the occasion someone acknowledged it

[adelacreations]

Me talking with @thediktatortot about this Bloodborne AU and making it the whumpest thing alive. But it also just me enjoying two of my fav medias.

Half of the monsters in Bloodborne could fit the upside down EASILY

[ronnyraygun]

I can make GK sooooooo much sadder than it has to be.

[Check the Tags]

[commodorecliche]

istg i have never seen a supplement more misunderstood than melatonin, like folks straight up do NOT understand what it is, how it works, or what it’s good for....

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

not fun stuff under the cut idk

really weird how triggers work, was fine earlier today and now i cant fking move and can barely fking see and non-stop thoughts of kys are flashing thru my head and i have to eat in like 20 min but i dont think i can keep anything down and then my husband is going to get all upset and want me to tell him wahts wrong and i dont have the emotional energy to pull more shit up and ;aldk jf;lasdkfj

guess this breaks my streak of not smoking

[detective4blog]

I wrote a follow up to this because I'm foaming at the mouth

Sebastian stared at the reply and the address he already knew. He didn't expect to get an answer. Maybe assuming that John was constantly busy was a bit stupid on his part.

In his defense, how easy is it to balance being a doctor and an assistant to a detective?

He shuddered at the thought of having a normal job on top of everything he already does. Managing the other snipers within the network, making sure Jim doesn't get his pretty face damaged or killed, take care of the occasional target he gets...

God, doing some other job would either kill him or lead him to more violent urges.

Not the point. He could see John today. He could get the answers to those stupid questions that bothered him all night. He could...act like he was normal.

Damnit.

Sebastian rubbed his face and groaned. He could act normal, sure, but if he wanted to keep talking to John, he had to have a good cover story. God forbid he says he works at a bank one day and the next say he's something else.

Though never keeping a job would fit him. Not the point.

"In-between jobs right now," he muttered to himself. It was the best answer he could have now. Maybe he could get some pathetic sod from the network to spew out a fake identity. It'd be easy considering his "rank" or whatever.

Clothes. Did he have any that didn't smell like alcohol, blood, and gun oil? Probably not. Maybe those nicer clothes Jim buys could work if he managed it. A button up and jeans, and the least stained t-shirt underneath.

He started digging around, tossing the needed clothes on the bed. Good thing he already showered. Shaving wasn't a big concern; besides, people like a scruffy, tough looking man!

...hopefully.

He got dressed, rinsing his mouth with mouthwash as he started getting the regular things to leave the house.

Keys. Phone. Pocket knife. Wallet.

How much money did he have? If things went there, getting a hotel room would be in both's interest. He fumbled through the wallet, scowling at the sad amount he carried with him.

Great. Now he has to stop at the bank and get money from the account Jim deposits payment into. Which will be noticed because he never does this, and then Jim will ask questions and-

Whatever. Cross that burning bridge later, he wanted to be prepared for the best and worst. Good thing he kept condoms in his wallet already.

Tugging on the first jacket that he saw, Sebastian left. He called a taxi, not in the mood to figure out which train he has to board and when. For being born and raised here, he really had no clue about the Tube system.

Curse his rich bastard of a father.

...

Sebastian stared up at the red sign, wondering if this was a dream. He kicked the side of his leg to check, wincing slightly.

Not a dream.

"'Bastian?"

His heart nearly exploded. From being surprised or an ungodly amount of joy, he wasn't sure.

There was John, wearing a nice jumper. Looking like a piece of sunlight captured into a human vessel. Eyes bright with happiness, lips curled into a grin...perfect in every way.

Say something, dumbass!

"Hey, doc."

I'm fucking hopeless. "Doc"? Real original! I'm sure he's never heard that one before-

John laughed. He was laughing at that shitty nickname, head shaking slightly. He was laughing and it sounded like it would be the call of an angel, not the laugh of a regular human.

Sebastian had absolutely no memory of going inside the cafe and sitting down but at some point, that occurred. He prayed that he wasn't just staring at John the entire time like an idiot.

"So, how are you?" The doctor asked kindly, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. The blonde laughed a little, wetting his lips nervously. He still wasn't used to the scar tissue over his lips that disrupt the texture.

"I'm alive, at least. In-between jobs right now, and surprisingly single." He answered so easily, a crooked grin shifting onto his face.

More of that honeyed laughter. "Really? I thought out of everyone I knew, you'd settle down first."

I would've if I didn't fall into a fuckin' pit and-

Sebastian cut his own thought off by laughing in return, shaking his head. Bits of his hair curled around his shoulders now, bringing that smell of fruit with them. "You though that I'd settle down? I got described as a little heartbreakin' bastard by pretty much everyone!"

John shrugged in response, taking a sip of his tea. It was difficult not to stare at his lips but somehow the sniper managed. "You were the one who'd muse on about living in the country with your partner."

He remembered that?

Sebastian blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haven't found someone to go off into the rolling green hills yet." He managed to respond, acting like he hadn't forgotten his own damn words. "What about you?"

"It's...difficult keeping a girlfriend with my flatmate. He isn't a...people's person." John explained with an awkward chuckle. Sebastian bit back a comment of agreeing.

"What's that bloke like? I didn't really read much on the blog." He admitted, head turning to the side.

John stared into his cup for a moment, obviously trying to think of a way to describe the detective in a way that wasn't a long rant. "A bit of a know-it-all who knows he's smart and makes sure everyone knows."

Interesting how that was the exact way he'd describe Jim. Though it'd more that he makes it everyone else's problem that he's the genius in the room.

"I see. Hopefully you'll find a gal who doesn't mind your...friend?"

John nodded at the last part, shrugging again. "Maybe. Where are you living? Please say it's not back home."

"Fuck no. I've got a place with Severin. It's a cheap flat that frankly needs destroyed, but it's ours." A complete lie at the moment. He was still living with Jim for the time being. Eventually he did plan on moving out and getting someplace for him and his brother.

"That's good. Tell Severin I said 'hi' for me." John looked relieved by the answer. Sebastian nodded in response, placing his hands firmly on his knees to stop them from bouncing. "Looks like you've seen some excitement. The scars, I mean."

"Oh, these old things? Turns out I'm not the only one who doesn't always fight clean." He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice at the topic of...well, fighting. If he could only have two interests for the rest of his days, it would be space and fighting.

John raised a brow, looking amused. "It helps your whole...tough guy with a heart of gold thing going on."

He thinks I have a heart of gold? I could get him a heart and cast it in gold if he asked.

Maybe he should stop listening to Jim's attempts of dating advice.

He laughed, head shaking a bit. "Sure, it's a golden heart, but it's a pretty damaged one. Dirty, too."

"Doesn't mean you're any less worthy of love, 'Bastian. One day you'll find someone that'll cherish that heart, help you repair it and clean it."

You are making it so much harder to not fall back in love with you, you sweet bastard.

Sebastian felt his face heat up, avoiding eye contact while his heart pounded in his ears. "Right, yeah. Someone that'll cherish..." He mumbled, too flustered to think.

It wasn't even something to get flustered over!

He heard John laugh, the cup be lifted from his saucer, then placed down gently. "Your ears still go red when you blush."

Fuck.

"Good thing I've got hair to cover that up." He managed to say, pushing his hair in place to cover the reddening ears. More laughter from John, pitched so sweetly with lightheartedness.

"God, I haven't laughed this much in a while." The doctor admitted, fixing the collar of his shirt. "You always make it easier to laugh."

I'm going to fucking fall in love with you, stop it.

"What can I say? I'm just gift to all who have the pleasure and displeasure to know me." A signature cocky grin spread, followed up by a playful wink. "It's nice to hear you laugh again."

John's eyes seemed to brighten with something. Sebastian couldn't tell what had sparked in his eyes, getting lost in those beautiful eyes. It was like gazing into a blue crystal ball that carried so many human emotions inside. Grief, joy, anger, regret, love...

"I still have that pendant you made me."

Sebastian's eyes widened, jaw nearly dropping. "Holy shit, really?"

The doctor nodded with vigor, eyes glimmering with memories. "It's been sitting in some little trinket box for the longest time. I nearly forgot about it until now."

You kept the shitty little charm I made you by melting down a pound and burning my fingers trying to put a fingerprint into it...and then failing to do so and just making a weird dip in it?

"That's bloody insane. I mean, I'm glad to hear it but...damn. I should get you a chain for it, it'd be a better keychain or whatever. Maybe a Christmas ornament."

"I'd like it as Christmas ornament. I'll get that taken care of so you can see it if you stop by. We...try to host little holiday parties. Keyword try." John went from overjoyed to slightly dimmed down, likely remembering disastrous Christmas pasts.

Wait. You want to see me on Christmas? Have me over, spend time with me? You're going to make that broken little heart get fixed without raising a finger, John...

"That'd be nice. I mean, I'd be the first holiday party I'd go to willingly. I'd want that to have you there, yaknow?" Was it obvious he was fumbling over his words? Was his face more red or did it just feel warmer? God, this was a blissful disaster.

John brightened at that, nodding. "I'll do everything in my power to make it a good one, then. You'll get to eat some good homemade food if all else goes wrong."

Sebastian nodded, a more gentle smile growing on his face. "I think those girls who left you just because your flatmate is a bit of a dick didn't see how sweet you are."

Was that too flirty? I mean, I'm not trying to flirt or anything but...

John blinked, bursting into laughter after processing what was said. "Ever the smooth talker, 'Bastian!" He covered his mouth to stifle the continuous laughter, face flushing with joy-

Fuck, that's adorable.

Sebastian bit his tongue to keep back what he wanted to say. He wanted nothing more than to spill out all the yearnings and wishes that had been plaguing him all of last night and today.

"Hey, I'm just being honest over here!" Joining the laughter was irresistible, John had a contagious laugh. "You're a bloody sweetheart, mate."

A darker pink tint glowed on John's cheeks, finally managing to get control of his laughter. "I think you're the sweet one here, mate. I mean, you've been like...a ray of sunshine. Just positivity and the works." The doctor paused, brow furrowing. "Or I've been around my friend a bit too much."

Sebastian was still trying to process being called a ray of sunshine to respond, face absolutely burning a dark red. His heart had to be working overtime for how fast it seemed it was beating.

This has to be a dream. It has to be. God, I want to kiss him.

"Pretty easy to be all positive and...sunshine-y with you, doc."

That fucking nickname again? Really? At this rate I'm gonna greet him with "what's up doc" like an idiot!

The banter continued, John's tea getting cold as it was abandoned in favor for conversation. Sebastian lost count of how many times the smallest thing the doctor did or said that made him feel...alive.

He felt alive, like the rush from energy drinks had been put in his system without the chemicals and flavorings. And god was it more addicting than any of those drinks. He felt like he could go a whole week without sleep if he had John with him.

Parting ways felt like removing a bandaid. It had to be done. His cab was by the side, John waiting outside to see him off. Sebastian wanted to linger, to reach out and hold, be held. But he didn't let himself try, getting in the cab and giving some ridiculous farewell with another mischievous wink.

His heart ached for what he knew he couldn't have. If he got what he wanted, it'd end in tragedy. The truth would come out, either from his own slip ups or from either of the Holmes spilling it. Then the way he was perceived would change, be tainted with "innocent" blood spread, and he could never be held in those arms again.

I want to be ordinary.