#I've been through the tag on ao3 twice

[hawkyon-days]

Sigh I guess it's time to rewatch stranger things again

[sundew199]

Times Two

a/n: good lord this is long and filthy. If you prefer to read it on AO3, it'll be linked. I've also never written a threesome before and tried my best, hopefully it isn't too horrible :)

words: 8,180

tags: Reiner x Jean x F!reader, rough sex, rough oral sex, Eiffel tower position, slight panty kink (Reiner), cum eating, Reiner and Jean are Bisexual, College AU, Reijean if you pay attention or care lol, pet names

What was it about Reiner and Jean that had you constantly glued to their hips? If you’re friends were to ask they’d say it was a double crush you were denying. If you asked your family their answers would vary from underlying crush, to enjoying being the center of attention or a close friendship. You personally didn’t think you were attached to their hips at first, but the more people started to whisper and theorize, you started to ask yourself the question. In reality, Reiner and Jean were your closest and longest friends, surviving multiple friend groups and growing up. You met Reiner in grade school, sat next to him on the first day of fourth grade and throughout the whole year due to the teacher’s assigned seating. The two of you might as well have been siblings, walking home together, eating dinner and playing at each other's house, even his mom and your parents were close after a while. Jean entered the scene later, seventh grade to be exact when he transferred mid year and as luck would have it the three of you shared almost all classes together. Reiner was the one who sought out Jean’s friendship and you became friends by proxy and from then on all the way to college the three of you were tight knit. 

Attending the same university is what you think further solidified the glue between the three of you, swearing to everyone it wasn’t intentional to attend the same university together. Some believed you and others didn’t, but you really didn’t care. Thankfully rumors spreading about you being in a three way relationship with them ended going to college, high school was rampant. You’d admit that it did bother you, because why couldn’t you be really good friends with two guys? Why did everyone have to make it seem the other way around? Reiner and Jean never hesitated to defend your honor against the rumors, landing themselves in suspension once or twice when defending you turned physical. Even when you tried to blame yourself, they never allowed it. 

Now when people questioned what the true nature of your friendship was with them, you’d play into the bit and come up with wildly different answers on how the dynamics of the relationship worked. Reiner and Jean both got a kick out of it as did you. 

Junior year of college is what changed things for the three of you. Since you couldn’t room with them in the dorms since they were guys, all three of you decided to rent a condo off campus. You’d spent almost all your life with both of them so there wasn’t any harm in living with them, besides all three of you were just friends. 

Towards the end of the first semester of junior year already and finals quickly approaching, you were buried in your books, studying like a madman to keep your GPA around or above a 3.5, needing the best possible grades to earn the degree you were working towards. Jean and Reiner had it easy in your mind, ashy haired man working towards a degree in Art History and the blonde meathead shooting towards that finance degree. In hindsight, they didn’t have it much easier than you, but they were also stupidly smart in their own respective studies. You envied them in a sense. 

It was chilly out, keeping two blankets wrapped around you sitting at your desk and scrolling through the notes you took the other day to refresh your mind for the practice test on Monday. As much as you wanted to deny it, you need a mental break from school but wouldn’t allow yourself to take it, not when so much was riding on the line. 

“Hey.” 

Jumping in your chair at the sound of a gruff voice at your bedroom door, blinking and rubbing your eyes from staring at the screen for too long. Swiveling to face whichever one of them it was, you wrapped the blanket around you tightly. 

“Yea.” 

“Are you still planning on watching the season premier of the show later?” Reiner asked, tapping his knuckles on your doorframe and leaning into it. Your eyes refused to focus on his face and instead on the bulging bicep through the fabric of the long sleeve shirt he wore. Since when were his arms that big? I mean fuck you knew he worked out but you’d never noticed how ripped his arms alone were. 

“Yeah if I finish going through my notes.” 

Reiner scoffed, rolling his eyes and approaching you, reaching over you to slam the laptop shut, deciding for you if you were going to look over the rest of your notes or not. 

“Reiner-” 

“You’ve been holed up in here for almost two days. I know finals are important but I’ll bet your brain is fried to a crisp.” Defiantly declaring, crossing those beefy ass arms over his chest and waiting for you to give in like he knew you would. 

Whatever. The premier of the new season of the show the three of you watched would only be an hour, and then you could return to forcing yourself to absorb as much information as possible. Sighing dramatically for effect and throwing the blankets off of yourself, you uncross your stupidly numb legs and ignore the sharp tingles running up from your foot as you stride over to the small closet to put on a sweatshirt. Reiner didn’t bother leaving as you tossed your t-shirt and bra from where you stood partially out of view to pull the sweatshirt over your head. 

“Jean is picking up food and drinks - is that my sweatshirt that I haven’t been able to find?” Sounding hurt and accusatory as you brushed past him out of your room, looking back to nod with a smile, because yes it was his and it was his fault for mixing it in with your laundry. He muttered down the small hallway to the main area of the condo all three of you shared, pinching your shoulder when he purposely knocked past you, hearing the muttering replaced with chuckles. 

One of them had taken the liberty to find all the blankets that were supposed to already be in the living room and tossed them all over the couch, setting up for the three of you to comfortably watch the premier. You could hear Reiner in the kitchen that flowed into the open concept living room, making a whole bunch of unnecessary noise in trying to find whatever it was. If you were being honest, living with your closest friends was turning into living with siblings, getting into pointless arguments and doing everything to get on each other's nerves. Would you change it to live with a regular roommate that could be a hit or miss in how well you got alone? Hell no. 

Finding a spot on the couch while waiting for Jean, you decided to look through all the notifications you missed while studying for hours. Some of your classmates were checking in, or asking questions about the notes, contemplating on whether you should respond. They could wait, Reiner was probably right when he said your brain was fried at this point. Checking social media quickly turned into envy seeing some of your other friends enjoying the holiday break, done with their finals and celebrating by jumping from parties to bars or wherever they sold cheap alcohol. If only you were done with finals so you could actually destress, but that just wasn’t in the cards. 

Jean came through the door after barreling through it, hands full with food and drinks. From the strong aroma, you knew he went to go get wings, always choosing the messiest option somehow. 

“Damn out of your room finally? Swore you died or something.” Commenting with a smirk as he passed by the couch to get to the kitchen where Reiner was snickering at his comment. Rolling your eyes instead of lashing back, you joined them in the kitchen to plate some of the food and momentarily forget about the weight of finals. 

“Please tell me you didn’t just get beer.” Approaching the center island of the kitchen, noticing the familiar white box in one of the bags that happened to be Jean and Reiner’s preferred drink of choice. If they wanted to give you a break, they would’ve at least gotten drinks that didn’t take four or five to actually start to feel the buzz. 

“No, I got you those lemonade drinks.” 

Ugh you could kiss him. As much as you loved Jean as a friend he had a tendency to forget to grab whatever you needed when he went out, always having to send you or Reiner back to the store to go grab it. Taking the glass bottle and popping the lid, the tingling fizzy drink left a slight burn as it went down your throat, just the right amount for you to down an entire six pack in a night and not regret your life choices in the morning. 

“Shows about to start.” Reiner announced after checking his phone, taking his plate with him to the couch. You and Jean did the same, grabbing the drinks as well to keep from having to get up and get another if you wanted. 

Sitting next to Reiner at a reasonable distance, Jean plopped down next to you and ended up sandwiching you between them. They were doing the absolute most to work every single one of your nerves, but you didn’t want to lash out again like you did earlier this week when one of them accidently ate your leftovers in the fridge. Tucking your feet under you as Reiner found the streaming service the show was premiering on, you actually didn’t mind being squished between them, their combined body heat doing more than the blanket over your lap would warm you up. 

The host for the show gave a quick recap of last season, breaking down the drama and how it might affect this season. This dating competition game that you had started watching out of boredom surprisingly took the guys interest, somehow watching it with you when it was on to turning into offense when you’d watch the latest episode without them. Despite the show being corny and scripted and at times unbearable to watch, it was nice to do something like this with them. 

“I swear to god if Jodi and that dick Preston aren’t broken up I might not watch the show anymore.” 

Jean hummed in agreement with Reiner, guzzling down the rest of his first beer and reaching for another. “I know, he’s so fucking annoying and Jodi is either dumb or desperate if she hasn’t left him yet.” 

Biting back a laugh as you took a bite of one of the wings, you looked at both of them to see they were being completely serious, so engrossed in this stupid show. The premise of this variant of a dating show was two people are paired up as a couple in the beginning and go through a series of challenges to see if they’re right for each other. Couples who continuously didn’t work together could get voted off or petition to break up with their partner. The downside was if there wasn’t another couple trying to split, you could be left without a partner and voted off, ya know all those stupid dating show rules that make you question why anyone would sign up to do it. 

Finally beginning to destress while nursing your vodka infused lemonade, it all went to shit when the couple you were rooting for petitioned to split. 

“Oh my god no! Why?! They were so good together!” Exclaiming and throwing your arms up, throwing your head back into the couch and pouting like a child. 

“Man that sucks, but he did fuck Serena last season so I’d leave him to.” Reiner commented, grabbing your attention even more, failing to recall that important detail. 

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah, they were getting each other off in that hallway, remember? Moaning so loud it's a shocker no one heard them.” Jean answered, laughing a little as he recalled the scene you’d clearly missed. 

“Yea! She was standing there going ‘oh josh faster! I'm going to cum, oh my god I’m so close!’” Reiner took it upon himself to imitate the moans one of the contestants were making, and you wouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable if it wasn't for that throaty laugh he let out there at the end, turning your cheeks flush with pink and throwing back the rest of your drink to hide it. Jean found Reiner’s imitation hilarious, laughing a bit harder than you’d imagine he would if he wasn’t finishing his second beer already, grabbing another and throwing his arm behind the couch and slouching, lifting his hips in the air trying to get comfortable. 

Suddenly the short commercial playing on screen was so interesting, taking small sips of the second bottle of lemonade and trying to drown out the sounds of their talking over you. Studying your ass off for the last couple of months left you little to no time to snag yourself a quick one night stand. You’d been able to ignore the urges and pour everything into your notes and reviews, but fuck it was harder than you expected. Espescially when you pick up on conversations between Reiner and Jean on their nights out, the girls they sometimes went home with and wishing you were getting fucked into the next semester. When all three of you moved in here, everyone agreed not to bring anyone home, unless clearing it with the other two that they’d be gone for the night. It hadn’t happen yet (that you were aware of) and you were glad, unsure how you’d feel knowing one of your best friends was getting their dick wet and having to listen to it. 

Regular programming returned and tried as you did to focus on what was unfolding, you just couldn’t. Replaying Reiner’s laugh in your head and Jean’s hip motion, turning you warm all over and settling something funny yet familiar in your abdomen. You wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t though about fucking one of them, mostly they were just passing thoughts and that was it, but now? Jesus fucking christ your head was a mess. This what you get for turning down outings with other friends to study, leaving you hornier than a motherfucker. It’d be fine, the show only had about thirty minutes left and then you could go back to studying and rub one out if you really needed to. 

“I wonder why there aren’t any same sex couples? I’d like to see how that plays out.” Jean’s words had a slight slur to them as he spoke, now reclined completely with his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

“Wasn’t there one last season?” Reiner asked, in a similar position as Jean, one arm behind his head and his half drank beer between his thighs. 

“Mm no, I think Zach and Marco made out on a dare but they weren’t a couple.” Giving them an answer after searching through your brain for that jaw dropping scene from last season that had everyone talking about on social media.

“Oh yea I remember that, that was hot.” Jean slurred, heat dripping in his words and causing you to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was because he was drunk, that was what you told yourself instead of questioning how your friend really felt about that scene unfolding.  

Every little movement either of them did drew your attention, watching as Reiner drank the last of his beer, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, only to be pulled away by Jean’s groans as he adjusted on the couch. They weren’t doing it on purpose and you were tipsy so that explained the clenching of your thighs to ease the throb, not because you were getting turned on by them. 

A preview of next week's episode played at the end of the premier, taking the liberty to watch it before getting up and heading back to your room to get your mind out of the gutter. But as you walked away, Reiner grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him lazily. 

“Leaving already?” 

“I said I’d watch the premier with you guys and then study before going to bed.” Ignoring how large his hand looked around your wrist and how warm it was on your skin, taking in a sharp breath. 

“It’s Friday though.” The blonde whined, the slight inebriation turning him a bit sappy. 

“Play a game of cards with us and then go, please.” Jean chimed in, fluttering those hazel eyes at you, begging to spend just a little more time together. 

Not giving it much thought, you let out a sigh and walked to the media console below where the T.V hung on the wall to grab the deck of cards. Surely there was a quick game the three of you could play that wouldn’t send your mind further into the gutter or put you in a compromising situation. Jean managed to get up and grab some water for everyone, tossing one to you and Reiner as he sat down on the floor behind the coffee table, leaning back into the couch for support. 

“One round of B.S, alright?” Shuffling the cards between your hands and the table, repeatedly doing so that way everyone played fairly. 

“Lame but alright.” Jean agreed, chugging some of the water and sharing a look with Reiner that you didn’t understand and didn’t care to acknowledge. 

Dividing the entire deck between the three of you, now waiting for one of them to put down the ace of spades to begin the game. Reiner ended up having it and motioned towards you to go next. This game used to be a staple for you guys, playing every chance you got and getting into heated arguments whenever someone suspected someone else of putting down the incorrect card. 

The game went quietly in the beginning, until you picked up on Jean and Reiner putting down cards that they ‘supposedly’ had, smiling behind your deck every time they called out cards that were in your deck, the only thing keeping you from calling them out was waiting until the deck got a little thicker. 

“Two eights.” Reiner called out, looking at you to go next. 

“Bullshit.” 

“Ha! You sure? Cause I promise you I just put down two eights.” Reiner laughed, encouraging you to rethink your decision but also egging you on to check in hopes of watching you take the entire deck. 

“Check it.” Jean motivated from beside you, pushing his shoulder with yours. Reiner still had that confident look on his face which did end up making you regret your call out a bit, second guessing if you were right to call his bluff. No matter what since you called B.S, you had to check and you were going to livid if it actually was two eights. 

Reaching forward and thumbing apart the top two cards from the rest of the deck, you snuck a peak and saw what you didn’t want to see; two eights. 

“Nevermind, I take it back.” Knowing that wasn’t how the game worked but hoping you could worm your way out of it. 

“Uh uh, check.” Reiner insisted while standing up, coming to lean over you from behind, taking your arm and trying to force you to check the first two cards so the entire deck would go to you. Doing everything to resist, laughing as the man behind you snarled and laughed in your ear, still trying to force you to check with his hand over yours. Jean was leaning over to help, slipping an arm under the one that held your deck in the other hand, sandwiching you between them for the second time that night. 

“Just check, it’s okay if you’re a loser this round.” The taller of the two sneered in your other ear, brushing his lips over the shell and letting out a breathy laugh. You instantly shivered and became much more aware of your position, Reiner pressed into you from behind and Jean from the side. Heat rose in your entire body, refusing to let yourself enjoy the firm muscular bodies rubbing against yours. 

Resistance faltered completely as you got caught up in the overwhelming thoughts and sensations coursing through you, Reiner succeeding in getting your hand to flip over the top three cards, chuckling directly into ear. 

“Now was that so hard?” So close to the side of your face, you couldn’t help but turn and meet him. His eyes were still a bit hazy from the alcohol but not enough for you to feel guilty for leaning in and pressing your lips to his. 

Reiner gasped softly, giving into the feel of your soft plush lips on his and parting them when he felt yours begin to. You had absolutely no explanation for what spurred you to lean in and kiss what you considered your best friend, but you did and fuck did it feel nice. Reiner’s lips were surprisingly soft and the lingering remnants of his beer on his tongue kept you latched to his mouth. 

Behind you, Jean watched intrigued, though not entirely shocked. He would feel left out if he weren’t enjoying his two best friends making out on the floor of the living room, noticing how his sweat pants turned a little tighter. He smirked when Reiner peeked an eye open, a silent invitation to join in while pulling away from you. Jean wasted no time grabbing you by the back of your neck and slotting his lips into yours, sighing delightfully and wasting no time moving them with his. 

There wasn’t enough time for you to process that it was Jean you were kissing now, your other best friend, letting out a small moan when his tongue dipped into your mouth. He was slightly more insistent than Reiner was, moving faster and with a purpose but still reeling you in as your mouths stayed locked together. 

Coming up for air, not even wanting to think about what had just happened, you stood quickly. 

“C’mon,” Nodding towards what you think was Reiner’s room, knowing that if you gave yourself a moment to consider what you were about to do, you’d back out and hole yourself away in your room and never speak of this again. 

Both of them were quick to follow, smiling victoriously behind you. The door shut and you sat on the edge of Reiner’s bed, looking at both of them and debating on how this should continue to carry out. Consequences could come later, right now you’d gotten a taste of what you’d been actively avoiding for the sake of a GPA and needing so much more. 

“However you want to do this, I’m down.” Voicing your consent and ultimately putting all of your trust in both of them. You would admit this could be smoother sailing since you’d known both of them since childhood basically, but just not like that. There wouldn’t be much need to worry about keeping them in check like you would if it were someone you went home from the bar with and part of that excited you. 

Out of the two of them, Jean approached first, standing between your legs and grabbing your face and kissing you again. Slowly as your mouths returned to motions from minutes ago, the taller man began to push you back into the bed, holding himself above you with his hands beside your head. The bed dipped in the sudden weight of another person, knowing it was Reiner. 

Slender hands slipped under your sweatshirt, roaming around your skin and littering it with goosebumps. You gasped when the lith fingers brushed the underside of your breast, remembering you weren’t wearing a bra. Jean chuckled into your lips, humming as he dared to cup the flesh, sighing pleasantly when brushing his thumb over your nipple. 

Abruptly his mouth left yours, leaving you dazed and sitting up to search for his lips, only to see hands that weren’t Jean’s pulling his shirt off. Reiner stood on his knees just behind your head, tossing the shirt to the other side of the room and giving a playful smack to Jean’s pectoral. 

“Sharing is caring by the way.” The blonde rumbled behind you, scolding Jean and pinching his nipple teasingly, hearing Jean hiss softly before Reiner slipped his arms under your armpits and hauling you to face him. He was in nothing but his boxer briefs, the faint imprint of his half hard cock catching your eyes and widening at how big it looked beneath the fabric. Fuck you hadn’t even thought about how big either of them were, both impressively fit and no doubt having a dick to match the rigid muscles rippling over their bodies. 

Falling with Reiner as he leaned back on the bed, you threw your legs over his torso and smashed your mouth to his, feeling another set of hands from behind you lift the hem of your sweatshirt until you were bare from the waist up. The man below you groaned when you sat up on his abdomen, running his hand across your stomach. Acquainted hands from earlier snakes around to your chest, Jean cupping both of your tits and softly kissing down your neck while circling his thumbs over your nipples. 

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed from below, raising his hips as he watched Jean tease and stimulate your nipples in to pert buds. Mindlessly, you began to scoot down until you came in contact with the bulge beneath Reiner’s boxers, grinding in time with Jean’s circling thumbs. The blonde groaned again, bringing his hands to your hips and encouraging you. 

“Eager huh?” A voice teased, pinching both nipples harshly and sucking the side of your neck. You couldn’t think of anything but the rising heat in your body, the teasing from Jean and the quieted groans from Reiner below. Maybe you were stupid for never giving this a shot before, both seemed eager and willing to please and show you what a good time looked like. 

“Are these my sweat pants?” Jean asked, pulling off of your neck and slipping one of his hands to the waistband of said sweats, snapping the band against your skin. 

“Mhm.” Unable to give any other answer as Reiner started rolling his hips up to yours, matching the roll of your own. Wasn’t intentional to wear either of their clothes but seeing how it looked now only made you more desperate for them and if that got you what you wanted, then where was the harm. Reiner began to tug at the waistband, sitting up on his elbows after hearing the short conversation between you and Jean, aiding him by lifting your hips and no longer straddling his waist. 

Enough teasing, you decided, pulling down Reiner’s boxer briefs after he tossed the sweats aside, gripping the base and watching his face contort at the contact. He was thick from the base up, intimidating you from the sight and size alone. Jean chuckled, moving to lay beside his friend, cupping the side of his face and hovering above his lips. Interesting to see there was no resistance from Reiner when their lips slipped together, craning to reach the ashy haired man like he was desperate for his taste. Smirking while the two of them made out, you flattened your tongue over the top of Reiner’s cockhead, fluttering your eyes at the delicious groan that Jean swallowed from Reiner. It’d take some working up to taking his dick all the way down, girthy enough to know your jaw would ache when it was all said and done. 

Sucking around the head and moaning when Reiner’s hand reached down to grip Jean’s dick still shielded by the fabric of his briefs, seeing his hand move up and down. Had they done this before? You couldn't help but wonder the more you took Reiner’s dick down seeing how they were both so comfortable with each other’s touch, and the slight jealousy of being left out. Jean’s hip rutted into Reiner’s hand, breaking their make out session to finally pull his briefs off and give you a look at what he was packing as well. It was slightly longer than Reiner’s, by an inch or two but not as thick, pausing your bobbing head to stare between his legs. 

“I think she likes it.” Reiner hissed, bringing a hand to your head, pushing you further down his dick and letting his head fall back when the tip brushed the back of your throat. 

“Haven’t met anyone who hasn’t.” Jean quipped back, moving off the bed and coming to stand behind you. You watched Reiner’s eyes follow him, a sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Warm hands massaged your ass cheeks, gasping around the cock still deep in your throat when two fingers swiped over your clothed pussy. 

“Fucking soaked.” He commented behind you, Reiner groaning approvingly as he still guided your head up and down on his dick. Jean then pulled your panties down, tossing them over to Reiner who shamelessly brought them to his nose, listening to him mutter a few words and pull you off of his dick to give you a break. Jean then took to spreading you apart, licking a strip from your clit to your entrance, squeaking out a moan and falling forward onto Reiner’s abdomen. The blonde pulled you forward until your tits dangled in his face, taking one into his mouth. 

“Holy shit-” Gasping at the double stimulation, forgetting all shame and grinding back into Jean’s face, who appreciated the gesture with a firm slap to one ass cheek, dipping his tongue inside you, slurping obnoxiously. You were shaking, struggling to hold yourself up, moaning like the whore you felt like. Reiner managed to keep you steady above him, holding you so he could bite and suck at your over sensitive nipples. You knew both of them were experienced but fuck, they were intent on making it impossible to make any future hookups impossible to enjoy, hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing. 

Reiner suddenly bit down hard on your nipple, pulling off it with a tug and causing you to wince at the slight pain. Unsure of what would cause him to do that, you turned around to see one of Jean’s hands between your bodies, languidly stroking the blonde’s spit coated dick. This wasn’t exactly the right time to question the nature of your two friends' relationship, but the way Reiner was moaning and struggling to return to the task at hand, it continuously flashed in the back of your head. Jean was still buried in your pussy while simultaneously jacking Reiner off, pressing your forehead to Reiner’s and practically synchronizing your moans. 

“Fuck, have you two done this before?” asking the man below you, watching his slow nod come before his answer. 

“Yea - fuck - every once in a while.” panting as his hips grinded into Jean’s hand, and sitting up enough to where he could pry the man away, seconds away from cumming. 

Jean took the hint, also pulling away from your pussy and stroking it affectionately. You winced at the final slap he gave to your ass, coming back to lay beside Reiner, taking the side of his face and turning it towards him. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ devine.” 

“Oh yea?” Bolding swiping his tongue over Jean’s bottom lip, speaking as if you weren’t there listening to them talk. You watched as they kissed again, yearning for the combined taste and chastising yourself for not noticing the signs for whatever they had going on sooner. 

“Think I need a better taste for myself, lay down for me baby.” Reiner instructed, already moving to get out from under you. Jean chuckled deviously, pecking the side of your mouth and moving to the very back of the bed, reclining against the headboard, patting his inner thigh. Reiner immediately knew what he was wanting and waited until you were sitting between the other man’s legs to center him between yours. 

“Keep’em spread for me.” Glancing up to the other man, running his palms over your inner thighs. 

You were already so sensitive from Jean eating you out minutes ago, you were afraid you weren’t going to last much longer. Nevertheless, you let Jean hook your legs over his and watched on baited breath as the blonde examined your slick and puffy folds. 

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” His voice so airy, breathing over your cunt prior to latching onto your clit. Your back arched off of Jean’s chest, whining at the intentionally harsh sucks. The man behind you held you down with an arm around your chest, chuckling right beside your ear. Reiner looked up, smiled against your tingling flesh and flicked his tongue over your clit while he continued to suck. 

Jesus fucking christ, it was too much, you were already starting to feel yourself cum when Jean’s hand tipped your head back. “Don’t cum, not yet gorgeous.” 

“Jean, I can’t.” Mewling pathetically, feeling the beginnings of tears at your waterline from the overstimulation. 

“Sure you can.” Giving a slow grind of his dick on your lower back, the promise of a silent reward if you did what you were told. Keeping your head thrown back on his shoulder you shamelessly moaned and whimpered as Reiner alternated between sucks and swirls of his tongue, listening to his chuckles as you writhed against Jean. He finally pulled away only to shove his middle and ring finger inside, pulling you too look at him by your chin as he sat on his knees between your legs and furiously fingered you. 

“Fuck look at you, so pretty baby.” He cooed with a smirk, running along the spongy part deep inside of you and giving a small tilt of his head, knowing you would take it as your indicator to cum. 

You came on a broken cry, arched off Jean’s chest and pulsating around Reiner’s fingers. Both of them laughed endearingly at their combined success at getting you to come. Reiner pulled his fingers out, locked his eyes with yours and sucked the two digits clean. Jean was the one who moaned behind you at the act, dick still grinding into your lower back subtly. 

“Think you’re okay to take one of us?” One of them asked, still delirious from your orgasm to tell who was asking. You gave a nod and sat forward, not really caring how but still feeling the ache in your cunt for more. 

“Alright hands and knees then princess.” It was Jean instructing, hearing his voice vibrate in his chest that was still pressed to your back. 

On shaky legs you sat on your knees, watching them move around as you positioned yourself on all fours. Reiner was still behind you, massaging your ass cheeks and letting out huffs of appreciation at your puffy wet folds, his and Jean’s handy work. Jean sat on his knees in front of your face, running a loose fist over his angry cock, using the pre-cum leaking from the slit to lubricate his motions. 

“If it’s too much, pinch my thigh or kick the brute behind you.” Jean swooned, holding your head up to look at him as he spoke, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, watching the anticipation blaze in his irises. 

“We’ll take care of you angel,” Reiner pressed himself into your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. All you could do was nod, witness the shared glance between both of them and wait on pins and needles. 

The fat head of Reiner’s cock started to slide between your folds teasingly, wetting the tip and making it hard to focus on your gentle kisses you were giving to Jean’s. It was good they were both aware of their size and knew they couldn’t just shove themselves in disregarding you completely, but holy shit, if your weeping cunt wasn’t enough to entice Reiner to slip inside you already then you weren’t sure what will. 

A hand held your jaw when you enclosed your lips around the tip, sucking long and slow, tasting the salty pre that continuously leaked out. Jean’s head was thrown back, the defined muscles cascading over his body clenching the more you took in his cock more. You could hear Reiner chuckle on a low breath, pushing just the tip inside of you and giving a full body shutter. If their goal was to drive you insane with their pace, it was working, taking things into your own hands and pushing your hips back into Reiner until you were flush to his pelvis. 

He choked, dug his fingers into your hip and somewhat growled with the ragged breaths he was taking. It was Jean’s turn to laugh now, the sound so disgustingly seductive you could feel yourself grow wetter around the cock you shoved yourself on. 

“God you’re fucking tight, feels so good.” The blonde breathed out, pulling his hips back nearly all the way, returning the favor by thrusting forward and sending Jean’s cock deeper down your throat. The hand not holding your chin tangled harshly in your hair, looking down with parted lips and hooded eyes at the sight and little reaction you gave. They may have known you all your life but they didn’t know how well you could take dick, letting a small amount of pride surge through you at their astonishment.  

Their rhythm synchronized quickly, settling somewhere in the middle of not too soft and not too rough, letting you adjust to their respective sizes. You knew it wouldn’t last before they abandoned it all and used you to find their pleasure, just from radiating restraint coming off of them, eventually fucking your throat and pussy like you were nothing but a hole to be filled and that thought alone was exciting. 

“Shit, do that again.” Jean breathily exclaimed, enjoying the method of your tongue swirling around his shaft as he plunged in and out of your mouth, tipping your head back with the hand still in your hair. Giving him a hum, you repeated the action, felt your stomach flip in on itself as he moaned prettily. 

There was a slight hitch in breath from the man behind you, faltering in his thrusts and seemingly regaining his composure. Something about Reiner experiencing the same surge of arousal as your were at Jean’s expression and action thickened the lust hanging in the air around you. He didn’t resume his pace like you were expecting him to, but yanked back into focus on Jean tightening his grip in your hair and pistoning his hips forward, fucking your throat with vigor, something snapping inside him. 

“There you go, gorgeous.” Growling, inhaling sharply through his nose. Your eyes were welling up with tears, the ache in your jaw beginning but you didn’t want to stop, not until his cum was trickling down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow. Reiner palmed both of your ass cheeks, spreading them far apart and slamming into with the same force Jean was. This sudden switch up had your legs nearly buckling, tears rolling down your cheeks and pathetic whines and whimpers muffled. Your pussy fluttered around Reiner everytime Jean thrusted down your throat, the wet squelching noise turning obscene, your gummy walls sucking the blonde back in over and over, like your pussy craved to be stretched and fucked on his thick cock. 

“Fuck she feels so good, so wet,” Reiner groaned, talking to Jean, again like you weren’t there. 

“Mm, she sucks cock better than you.” Jean groaned back at the mental image his friend was painting, acknowledging your mouth felt just as good as your pussy probably did. 

“Not my fault, you barely give me a chance before trying to get me inside you.” 

Their banter of a conversation sending you into a new wave of arousal, images of their bulky bodies fighting over who would fuck who and never in your life did you think something like that would turn you on. Despite it being your two best friends fueling these fantasizing images, you couldn’t help but want to be in the middle of that from here on out. From the way both of them fucked you, there wasn’t any desire to look for anymore hook-ups, not when the two perfect candidates were right here. 

“Gonna cum princess, be a good girl and swallow it all for me.” A husky voice drawing you back to reality, doing your best to give him a nod and look up at him with doe-like eyes, a trick that worked on just about every guy. 

With a slow drawn out groan, Jean pushed the entirety of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, pressing your nose to the happy trail below his belly button. Hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, feeling him ease up and pull out of your mouth so he wouldn’t accidentally choke you with his cum. He gave you a lopsided smile, wiping away the milky liquid from your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth with his thumb, shuffling over to Reiner who was still fucking your pussy absolutely raw. You could only assume the blonde cleaned off the cum smeared thumb Jean presented him, based on the hiss and brief collision of mouths. 

A heavy palm landed on the center of your back, forcing you off of your elbows holding you up and forming a deep arch in your back. From this angle, Reiner was able to sink so much deeper inside you, splitting you in half on his thick cock, crying out with a moan. 

“Glad I held off, been dying to hear those pretty moans again baby.” He chuckled, putting more of his weight into the hand on your back, forcing you to keep the arch. 

“Fuck Reiner, don’t stop.” Gasping, twisting the bedsheets in a tight fist, the tears welling up in your eyes again. 

“Don’t plan to, sweetheart, I want to see you leaking by the time I’m done.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to stop the constant moans and incoherent noises leaving your lips. Jean had come back into view, partially laying down beside you, keeping your hair out of your eyes and giving you a look of endearing smugness, like watching you getting fucked by Reiner was better than fucking you himself. 

Skin slapping on skin echoed in the bedroom, your body coated in a layer of sweat and your limbs so weak that if it weren’t for Reiner holding you by the hips now, you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright. Your spongy walls clenched repeatedly around him after another orgasm, unsure of how many at this point. 

“Doin’ so good, doll.” Jean cooed, pinching the nipple he had been messing with and muffling your broken squeak with a soft kiss, keeping you occupied. Reiner grunted, beginning to break his steady harsh rhythm and fucking into you furiously with abandon. His breathing turned into short gasps, letting out something of a whine, tipping his head back with two final slams of his hips before cumming inside of you. 

A familiar warmth filled your pussy, moaning weakly into Jean’s lips, giving up on holding your position. Reiner pulled out slowly, groaning as he watched a glob of his cum drip from your hole. You collapsed on the bed, forcing yourself to turn over and lay on your back, placing your hands over your eyes to ease the dizziness you were experiencing. 

Just when you thought all the nerve endings in your body were shot, you sprung forward when a flat tongue glided over your folds, seeing Reiner lap up the mess he made between your legs, smirking and moving out of the way so Jean could do the same thing. 

“Fucking filthy.” Muttering at the sight of them both taking turns cleaning you up, your legs twitching and tingling from sensitivity. They both looked at you guiltless, even though you were shaking with overstimulation that didn’t stop you from pressing Jean’s head into your folds, watching as he eagerly lapped at Reiner’s cum. They switched again, Reiner being gentler this time, only running his tongue across your messy slit twice before using his middle finger to shove some of it back in. 

Reiner moves out from between your legs to lay beside you, cradling the side of your face for the sole purpose of giving you a taste of his cum. You were just as shameless, moaning into the kiss and running your hand through his sweaty hair, feeling him smirk against your lips. He pulled away, grabbing Jean by the back of the neck and slotting his lips between his, kissing him rather tenderly. 

With zero strength to make it to the bathroom, let alone your room to grab a change of clothes, Reiner and Jean took the liberty of taking care of you. Both of them pulling on their sweats thrown around the room, Reiner cleaned your inner thighs while Jean went to your room to grab you some underwear after tossing you one of Reiner’s sweatshirts. All three of you situated yourself into Reiner’s king bed, you of course in the middle of them both. There was so point in going back to your room and studying, not when you had several unanswered questions. 

“So how long have you two been dating?” They both froze beside you, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“We’re not dating, we just fuck occasionally.” Jean answered, Reiner nodding to further reaffirm the statement, but you weren’t buying it. Their chemistry in bed was enough to convince you they’d been hiding a relationship from you. 

“You just fuck? No feelings attached?” 

“There’s obviously feelings when we’ve been friends this long, but we’re not exclusive.” Reiner responded, propping himself up on his elbow and looking in the direction of you and Jean. “We didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything serious between us.” 

Okay, that made more sense than you were expecting too. But experiencing what you just did created a longing inside of you, one that might’ve been there that you didn’t want to acknowledge before now. Jean and Reiner were your best friends without a doubt, but they were also so much more than that and in order to not ruin the friendship, you shoved that deep down inside of you. 

“But,” Jean’s hands from behind turned you to look towards him. “We’re also not opposed to the idea of you being a part of this situationship.” 

“You’ve talked about this?” Surprised to know this wasn’t a coincidence happening, sounding like they planned this in a way. 

“Of course we have, do you know how long both of us have had a crush on you?” Reiner laughed, sending your mind into a flurry of confusion. They liked you? Like holding affectionate feelings beyond friendship for you? 

“Huh?” 

“Since junior or senior year of high school. We didn’t know we both felt the same way about you until after we had sex for the first time six months ago, agreeing that if it ever came to the point where you chose one of us over the other we would be okay with it.” Jean was speaking now, softly and almost lovingly, sending a blush to your face. 

“And we’ll never ask you to choose, if you want only one of us that’s fine and if you end up wanting both of us, that’s fine too.” Reiner spoke with the same inflection Jean did, softly smiling and looking at you endearingly. 

“I want both of you.” Blurting out without even thinking twice, hearing them laugh. But you knew you would rather have both than just one, it's always been the three of you. 

“Don’t decide now idiot, we’re being serious.” Jean pinched your shoulder with a frustrated grunt, rolling his eyes while Reiner just laughed softly. 

“We can talk about it more tomorrow, it’s late.” Reaching over to turn the lamp off on his bedside table, pulling you down under the comforter into his arms and kissing the top of your head. Jean shuffled behind you, pressing his chest to your back and kissing your cheek. 

For a few moments you refused to close your eyes, trying to break down all the new feelings and emotions you were experiencing, from earlier when you were at their mercy, to the confession from them both. It was in a way exciting, and whatever ended up happening between the three of you, it would work out in the end.

[noyaspeach]

first light

Summary: Could this be how every day begins?

After a long and restless night with no sleep, you go looking for something to while away the hours. As it turns out, Astarion is just as much of an insomniac as you are, and the two of you spend the early morning together.

Pairing: Astarion x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 4,334

Tags: Fluff and Light Angst, Pining, Feelings Realization (Kinda?), Second Person POV, Soft Astarion, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Insomnia, Watching the Sunrise

Author's Note:

not me returning to fic-writing over 3 years later with an astarion fic of all things. i can't even guarantee i'll write another one considering i'm about to start college again, but i would sure like to!

i was heavily inspired to write this because of the release of hozier's album. it perfectly aligned with me becoming obsessed with baldur's gate 3, and astarion is just so hozier-coded, how could i not? as the title suggests, i was inspired by the song "first light" which is the last song on the album, based on dante's ascent out of hell and his first taste of light and freedom. i imagine it's how astarion must have felt when he was no longer forced to do cazador's bidding and when he could finally experience sunlight again.

obligatory disclaimers: i haven't actually played the game yet, so this fic is informed by clips i've seen online, gif sets, the baldur's gate wiki, and other fics. if any details in this aren't chronologically sound or if anything seems a little non-compliant with the canon of the game... now you know why lol.

still, i hope you enjoy it! this is also posted to ao3! read here!

///

You stare up at the ceiling of your tent, frustration rolling in your chest as you struggle to rest. Your eyes are beginning to sting with the lack of sleep, but simply closing them does nothing to help. You’ve gone through all of your belongings twice already, looking for something to ease you into slumber, but no amount of reading or alcohol seems to do the trick. It certainly doesn’t help that the weather has been oppressively humid all night, leaving you coated in a thin, sticky layer of sweat that doesn’t seem to leave you no matter how many layers you shed.

You can’t bear to lay around in the thick air of your tent, so you decide to sit out by the extinguished campfire in the hopes that it will do more to relax you.

You quietly open your tent flap and emerge into the mild morning air. It’s much cooler outside, and a light breeze tickles your arm, already doing wonders to dry your sweat. It’s still too early for daylight, so the camp is only dimly illuminated by the moonlight. With the lack of light, you listen out for the sounds of the forest around you: the chirps of insects beneath you, hooting owls in the distance, and a trickling stream not too far away. Focusing on these scarce sounds, you already feel much calmer.

After a moment of peace, you hear a rustle to your right. You whip your head toward the sound, hands ready at your weapon, when you see a familiar face emerge from the trees. You let your hands drop to your side again. It’s just Astarion. He appears to be returning to his tent, noticeably empty-handed. You wonder what he’s up to this early in the morning, and he seems to be wondering the same thing, eyeing you with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow.

“Restless sleeper, are we?” He remarks.

“Something like that,” you reply. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You notice that Astarion is still in his sleepwear, the sleeves of his white undershirt pushed up above his elbows. “And what are you doing out?”

“Oh, you know. Searching for a midnight snack, so to speak.” He gestures to the woods behind him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a very fine selection tonight.”

You grimace at the thought of Astarion catching an innocent woodland creature between his teeth. It’s a less-than-flattering image, one that’s informed by the memory of the boar he drained a while back, and one that you’re eager to dismiss.

“Is that all you’ve been up to?” You ask.

“Why? Were you getting lonely without me?” He teases. You can only roll your eyes in response. When he doesn’t receive a retort, Astarion sighs and continues. “Right, if you want an honest answer, I was going for a stroll to pass the time.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Wandering about on your own while everyone’s asleep isn’t a very good idea. If something happens out there, none of us will be able to save you”

“Trust me, darling, I can hold my own just fine. But I appreciate you worrying about my safety. It’s almost touching.” He smirks. “I would appreciate it even more if you would refrain from telling the others about my… routine here. I don’t exactly want the company.”

“Routine? How long have you been taking these walks?”

“Since the day I joined you all, I would say.” Astarion’s eyes move to the entrance of his own tent. “I haven’t been able to get much sleep myself, and I figure there isn’t much use laying on my bedroll if I’m not resting or satisfying… other needs. So, I walk. And occasionally feed.”

You search Astarion’s face for any sign of deception, but he’s being surprisingly truthful, if a little bashful. You resonate with his sleeplessness, being something of an insomniac yourself. Despite the immense toll your travels have taken on your body, you can’t seem to rest very easily at all, especially when you need it the most. Whether it’s the vivid memories of past battles replaying in your dreams, the smothering climate of whatever campsite you’ve picked out that night, or the relentless wriggling of the tadpole in your head, there’s always something keeping you up.

“I’m surprised I haven’t caught you earlier, then,” you say. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” says Astarion. He smiles, and it seems he means it too. “Well, seeing as neither one of us will be getting to bed anytime soon, would you care to join me?”

You cross your arms. “I thought you would have preferred to be alone.”

“Misery loves company and all. I think I can make an exception for a fellow night owl,” he drawls.

You agree to walk with him then and quietly head in the opposite direction of both tents. You’re sure to bring your weapon with you in the off chance that something—or someone—attacks the two of you. A very small part of you still garners some suspicion for Astarion himself, especially considering that night in which he tried to feed from you while you slept. Perhaps that’s another factor in your insomnia; although you let Astarion drink his fill that night, you can’t be entirely sure he won’t try it again. That he won’t succeed in creeping up on you and draining you completely.

You shiver at the thought, but pass it off as a cold chill from the wind. As the two of you slowly move from the campsite, your surroundings become even quieter. The chirping insects from before are silent now, and the nearby stream is barely a whisper. You can hardly hear either of your footsteps. It’s at once peaceful and unsettling.

After a few short minutes, you’re the first to break the silence. “What do you usually do when you’re out here?”

Astarion thinks for a moment, and hums. “Hmm. Aside from hunting, I suppose I just sit with my thoughts. There isn’t much else to do, is there?”

You nod, but somehow you don’t think being left with one’s own thoughts is particularly relaxing for anyone in your party. You can’t imagine it’s any good for Astarion, especially.

“And what do you think about?”

“So much,” he says. “Plans, mostly. Where our next destination is, where I’ll find my next meal, what I’ll do when we reach Baldur’s Gate, how to get rid of this wretched parasite…”

“Do you ever think about your past?”

Astarion’s gaze is a bit distant until you ask that. He slows his pace and turns to you, looking unusually serious. “I prefer not to.”

He leaves it at that, so you decide not to push further. You only know a little about Astarion’s life before the tadpole entered his mind. You know he’s the spawn of an even more powerful vampire, a master to whom he was a slave for nearly 200 years, and you know he’s lived in the shadows up until now. It isn’t lost on you that this entire adventure is his first taste of freedom in centuries. You understand why he would rather focus on the future. Still, your nagging curiosity makes you desperate for more information about him.

“What about you, my dear?” He returns to his more amused attitude. “What do you do in that tent of yours to pass the time until the morning comes? Don’t tell me if it’s anything naughty… Actually, do.”

You shake your head and suppress a smile as he actually almost earns a laugh from you. “Nothing like that. I normally just try to distract myself until I can hopefully fall back asleep. Read something, sort my wares, hum a tune. Anything to relax.”

“I take it that hasn’t been working for you?”

“No. Not one bit. I’m actually kind of worried it might start affecting my performance from now on. Unlike some of the elves in this team, I actually need quite a lot of rest.”

“A true shame,” he tuts. “Although it is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don’t need to sleep for very long. On the other, I can’t sleep for very long. Sometimes I do wish I could simply let the whole day pass while I doze off. That would be much easier than just waiting it out.”

You hadn’t considered this. While the rest of your traveling companions are able to sleep through the night, Astarion has no choice but to wait for everyone to wake up around sunrise. All he can do is hope to get a few hours of rest before sitting through the unnerving silence of the night, the only unique sounds being the faint snores and mumbles that float from the other tents. You and he are alike in this struggle, but you at least are lucky enough to have a few nights when your exhaustion is bad enough to force you to bed.

“Well, taking a stroll like this is a good idea,” you finally say. “Thank you for inviting me along.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Astarion’s lips. “Thank you for joining me. I will admit, it’s easier to pass the time with a… friend… by my side.”

Your heart swells at that word: “friend.” It’s a welcome upgrade from whatever you two might have been considered before.

A few minutes pass with the both of you chatting politely. As you walk, you make note of your surroundings to ensure that you don’t stray too far from camp or encounter any traps. This occupies your mind for a while, but Astarion seems to be running out of topics to discuss. Not wanting him to abandon your little trip just yet, you try to think of something to entertain him. Looking out at the forest and the sky in front of you, you notice that the moon has begun its descent into the trees, meaning morning is almost upon you two. This gives you an idea.

You stop and pivot to face Astarion. He stops too, surprised at your sudden pause.

“What is it?” He asks.

"Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

He’s taken aback only momentarily before he adopts his familiar flirtatious demeanor. “Trying to turn this into a romantic tryst, are you? If you want something more, you’ll have to be a little more direct than that.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t mean anything by it. I want to know if you’ll sit and watch the sun come up with me. That’s all. It should be rising soon enough. It’s almost morning.”

He seems puzzled, his brows tightening and eyes scanning your face for any indication that you may be holding something back. When he doesn’t find anything, he settles back into an easy expression. “I seem to have misjudged. My apologies… Yes, I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.”

“Great.” You smile and begin to walk again. “I heard some water earlier, so I think there may be a stream near here. Maybe it’ll make for a nice spot.”

Astarion follows as you lead him closer to the sound of running water, and the two of you shortly come upon the stream. It’s a small, shallow brook that separates the woods from which you emerge and another expanse of trees on the other side. Right along the edge of the water is a line of smooth rocks big enough to sit on. It’s the perfect place to set up, you think.

The two of you find purchase on the edge of the rocks, feet just barely dangling off the side, hovering above the calmly flowing water. The rocks aren’t terribly big, so the two of you sit side-by-side, your knees close enough to touch. Across the brook, the trees begin to thin out, leaving a clear view of the horizon. You estimate that the sun will start its ascent in the next few minutes, but for now, the scene in front of you remains thinly bathed in moonlight.

In the quiet of the dawn, the moon casts its silvery glow on the world beneath it. Every blade of grass, every dewy flower, every mossy stone radiates with a hazy blue hue. The stream beneath you reflects this onto both of your faces, and you give a sideways glance to your companion next to you. You watch as the light dances across his cheeks, admiring how it shines in his curls, how it glistens in his deep red eyes, and how it collects in the space just above his lips. You inhale and the earthy scent of the forest mixes with the smell of Astarion’s perfume in your nose. As you do so, you realize now just how close in proximity you are to him. You’re close enough to trace his silhouette from the slope of his nose to his slender neck with your fingers if you so choose. You glimpse at the puncture marks just below his jaw and remember once more the night you let him drink from you. You remember the moment you awoke in terror before you realized who was crouched above you. You remember the uncertainty you felt as you gave him permission to continue, not sure whether it was a wise decision or not. You remember the sharp sting of his teeth entering your skin and the almost exhilarating dizziness that followed as he coaxed your blood out with his tongue. The rest of that moment is a blur to you, but you can still distinctly recall how he cradled your head with one hand, the other gently ghosting down your spine. For almost a full day after that night, the smell of bergamot and rosemary lingered on your neck.

“You do know staring is rude, don’t you, darling?” Astarion says. “Not that I particularly mind.” He leans back on his arms and turns to face you. “Not when it’s you.”

Your cheeks flush in spite of the cool temperature. You wonder when it was you became so vulnerable to Astarion’s flirting. Even though you have, you try not to entertain it. After all, you suspect his charming behavior is at least partly a ruse.

“Sorry,” you mutter and look back at the horizon. “It’s very pretty out. It’ll be even prettier in just a few more minutes, too. We’re in the perfect spot to watch the sun come up.”

“Is that so?” Astarion tilts his head as he continues to behold you. “You know, I’ve never watched the sunrise like this.”

You twist to look at him again, utterly shocked. “Seriously? Not once?”

He shakes his head.

“How come?”

He sighs. “I’m sure I must have before… everything. But I can’t seem to remember anything from back then. I lost most of my memories when I was brought back, save for a few of the important details. I suppose sunrises weren’t important enough to stick.” He frowns and stares out at a canopy of trees in the distance. “Then, as you know, it would have been incredibly stupid for me to be out in the light with this condition of mine. So, I never tried. I didn’t have very many opportunities to do so, in any case.”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you let Astarion continue at his own pace.

“...I spent decades in my master’s lair, a- a dungeon, really. I was trapped in the darkness. The only time I was allowed out was when he needed fresh, new bodies, and even then it was always under the cover of night. For the longest time, that was all that I knew. In a way, it’s what I’m still used to…”

Suddenly his sleeplessness makes all the more sense to you.

“I know I’m free from that now, what with the tadpole and all, but…” He trails off. You understand.

After several beats of silence, you clear your throat.

“Once, when I was a child, I went playing in the woods with some of the other children in the village. There were maybe six of us in total? I don’t exactly remember. But we marched all the way from the market to the forest pretending we were a band of heroes. I was at the back of the line, right behind this boy that I really liked. I put myself there on purpose so that I could smile and blush as much as I wanted without him seeing me.”

“How cute,” Astarion comments with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I was being clever, but it was pretty silly, wasn’t it? Anyways, when we entered the woods, we decided to split off into teams to see who could find the most ‘treasure.’ We just plucked up sticks, flowers, beetles, pinecones, that kind of stuff. I was paired with the boy I liked, and I was so giddy about it. I wanted to show him just how cool I was, so I climbed up every tree and jumped off every rock. Just hearing him laugh and clap for me was enough for me to keep going. So, I did. Before we knew it, we realized we had strayed too far from the rest of the group. We tried to call out to them but heard nothing in return. We were lost.”

You pause your story to get a brief look at Astarion. You half-expect him to be bored by this point, but you’re surprised to see that he’s giving you his full attention. He waves his hand, signaling for you to continue.

“We started playing late into the evening, so by the time we realized that we had no clue where we were, the sun had already begun to set. I remember cursing myself for wishing I could have some alone time with this boy because that wasn’t at all what I had had in mind. But, alas, that was the situation I was stuck in. When it reached midnight and we still hadn’t made our way back to the village, I started panicking. You should know that I used to be deathly afraid of the forest at night. I was terrified of what kind of creatures could be hiding, waiting to snatch me up and eat me alive.”

“Hmm, like vampires?” Astarion teases.

You smirk. “Precisely. You’ll remember, though, that I was stuck with the boy I liked. So, there was no way I could show that I was scared. I couldn’t display any sign of weakness or else he might not think I was as cool as I let off. Knowing this, I put on a brave face and silently begged the gods for some protection before I assembled a makeshift camp for the two of us. It was, admittedly, very shitty, but it did its job of giving us some shelter for the night. I told him he could sleep and that I would keep watch, and so I did. I didn’t sleep very much back then, either, now that I think about it. I guess not a lot has changed about me… But I digress. I stayed up the whole night, sitting outside our little fort, listening to him snore and talk in his sleep. I don’t think I could have left his side if I wanted to, considering how petrified I was. But I powered through the fear, for his sake. I was so young, but I cared about this boy so much that I felt I owed it to him to make sure he was safe.”

“You were quite the hero, even back then,” Astarion says gently. “Is this little story your way of telling me to be more selfless?”

“Not at all. I’m getting to the point, I promise. I sat there for hours as I waited for it to become day again. Eventually, I was able to focus on the more beautiful parts of the night: the moon, the stars, the lightning bugs, the sweet whisper of the wind through the leaves. The more I searched for the good in my situation, the less scared I became, until I was no longer scared at all. By the time dawn rolled around, I was at peace, actually. I was so proud of myself for making it through the night, I immediately woke the boy up to share the moment with him. Then, we sat together, kind of like this,” You gesture to your and Astarion’s seating position, “and just watched the sunrise in perfect silence. I had never watched the sunrise before. It was so nice, getting to quietly enjoy such a wonderful view with someone I loved.”

As you finish your story, you face Astarion once more. His gaze is soft as he listens to you speak, and the tender curl of his lips betrays a sincere gratitude for having shared this with him.

“Did anything ever happen between you and that boy?” He asks.

“Sadly, no. He eventually fell for some other girl in town. Last I heard, they had three kids together.”

“Hmm.” Astarion angles his chin away from you. “Well, that’s his loss.”

You look away, too, and smile to yourself.

Suddenly, the sky begins to transform before your eyes. The first gleams of sunlight begin to caress the horizon as the moon takes its final bow behind you. The forest, still coated with all the glimmering remnants of morning dew, stirs from its slumber under the streams of the emerging sun. As the sun slowly rises, its warm embrace spreads like honey between the trees, flooding the forest floor with rays of pink and amber. Shafts of light pierce through the lush foliage, creating scintillating patterns on the surface of the water that seem to dance at the promise of a new day. Finally, when the sun peers at you from above the treetops, it’s as if the sky erupts. A burst of brilliance envelopes the world below it in its welcoming embrace, casting everything in a blazing golden light.

You begin to say something to Astarion but stop when you see his face. He looks positively radiant. His face glows in the daylight, appearing even more magnificent than he did in the moon’s silver beams. His face and his hair are colored by the sun, making him look more alive than he ever has before. Every detail from the strands in his eyebrows to the smallest of moles is illuminated before you. You watch as his eyes glisten before softly fluttering closed. He breathes deeply, his chest slowly rising and falling, and he basks in the sunlight. He relaxes completely, letting the sun’s rays melt away any and all tension he may have been holding on to.

You want nothing more than to cup his face in your hands, then, and feel the newly imbued warmth of his skin as you press your lips to his. Instead, however, you carefully place your hand on top of his. His eyes blink open and he turns to look at you once more. You hesitate for a moment, ready to move away, but he doesn’t reject you. His eyes crinkle with appreciation and he laces your fingers together before gently stroking his thumb against the side of your hand. His skin is still a bit cold, but thanks to you, it quickly warms up.

The two of you sit there in tranquility, taking in all of the sights, sounds, and feelings of the early morning. Time seems to slow, then, as if the universe itself also wishes to savor this serene moment for just a little while longer.

Soon, you hear the distant sound of casual conversation as the others awaken for yet another day of arduous traveling. You sigh, knowing that the two of you will have to return to camp shortly and leave all of this behind. You don’t want to let go just yet.

“We should probably get back,” Astarion says first. “I wouldn’t want the others to think that I killed you and scurried off or something like that.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be very good for morale,” you joke. After a moment, you reluctantly untwine your fingers and push yourself up off the rocks. You extend a hand to Astarion to help him up, which he graciously accepts.

Neither of you moves at first until Astarion takes a step toward you. Standing so close to you, you wonder if he’s about to kiss you when he gingerly takes hold of your hands. He gives you that sincere smile again.

“Thank you again for this. It was… nice.” You almost can’t believe how vulnerable he seems right now, eyes staring into yours with no hint of false pretenses. “I’d like to do this again with you, if you’ll join me.”

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful,” he says. He lets go of you. “Shall we then?”

The two of you take your time walking back to the campsite, talking idly about what the next few days have in store. When you arrive, Karlach is the first to notice you.

“There you two are! We were beginning to worry.” She looks between you both and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes mischievously. “Anything we should know about your disappearance?”

You chuckle. “Nothing that would excite you, Karlach.”

You walk past her and approach your tent. The rest of your team is already getting to work cleaning their weapons, armor, and other equipment, preparing to hunt, or strategizing together. Before you duck inside to retrieve your clothes for washing, you turn back and lock eyes with Astarion. He’s entered a conversation between Shadowheart and Gale, but he isn’t all that engaged. He shoots you a knowing look and another small smile which you return in kind.

As you wash your clothes in the river just south of the camp, you think fondly of the promise you’ve now made with Astarion and the many sunrises to come. Suddenly, insomnia doesn’t seem so bad.

[king-urameshi]

my favorite bucktommy fanfic

I figured I've read enough fanfic for this ship to curate a list of my favorites since wading through the ao3 tag can be a challenge. Some of these have been recommended numerous times already on here but hey, what's another shout out for some good writing?

I will add more on reblogs as I come across other fanfic I like:

left breathless by elizabethgee [e] [11.4k words, 2/3 chapters]

summary:

Buck turns to Tommy for comfort when an arson case involving a man who looks like Tommy ends up being ruled a murder. And Tommy doesn't have daddy issues. Really, he doesn't. This fic will include very dark themes, including blackmail, murder, and arson.

__

prescribed burn by wakeupnew [t] [8.4k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy's busy fighting a wildfire at the edge of the Angeles National Forest, but every time he checks his phone, he has an increasingly unbelievable series of text messages. (Or: Over the course of eighteen hours with Buck and the 118, from a distance and then up close and personal, Tommy keeps having to reassess.)

__

gettin' bi by brewrosemilk [e] [10.3k words, one-shot]

(you have to be logged in to read it)

summary:

God, this feels really good. Everything about it; from the size of Tommy’s hand cradling his face, to the gentle yet firm way he sucks Buck’s bottom lip into his warm mouth - to the rough traction of their faint stubble, a slight sound going with it. Men, Buck decides right then and there. Yeah. Men are good, too.  disclaimer because i have picked up on some confusion: this is not a friends with benefits > lovers story. they are good friends, but they are not in love. this story embraces the concept of casual and platonic sex, especially between bi/gay men because it tends to be something that is heavily stigmatized.

__

company through every twist and turn by kitthekazoo [m] [12.2k words, one-shot]

summary:

Five fights that help Buck and Tommy grow closer.

__

all the vices i can't give up by starryeyedjanai [e] [4.6k words, one-shot]

summary:

It’s kind of second nature at this point—if he’s not sending a picture to Eddie, it’s probably going to Tommy. So his mind must have been running on autopilot when he hit send and now he has to deal with the fact that he accidentally sent Tommy a picture of him with water dripping down his chest, a clear come on. And that Tommy took the bait. or, Tommy doesn’t kiss Buck when he comes over to make things right between them, but Buck still manages to accidentally bag him

--

while you arranged flowers by newtkelly [e] [4.6k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy’s eyes catch his and Buck is taken aback by the state of them, blown so black and glassy. He always looks so tongue-in-cheek, like he’s in on some joke and waiting for everyone else to catch on. He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Tommy’s composure is waning—the guy who takes on the world with a million dollar smile and a statuesque cleft chin and flies choppers to Vegas on a whim and into Cat 5 hurricanes to help old friends and kisses clarity into men who thought they were finished figuring themselves out, that guy is just as much a slave to his desire as any mortal man, and Buck is winded by the fact that he’s played any part in that. — Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

--

looking for an ocean breeze/so i can fill my mind with ease by newtkelly [e] [8.8k words, one-shot]

summary:

“Can I top you off?” Buck’s head whips frantically in Tommy’s direction. “Huh?” “Your champagne,” Tommy says with a sooty half-smirk, while Buck irrationally feels like his bluff’s been made. Tommy taps a finger twice against the plastic in his hand. “It’s empty. Can I get you some more?” — Maddie gets married in an emergency room and Buck learns how to ask.

--

of coming outs and spiderman kisses by alicemcgee [g] [1.9k words, one-shot]

summary:

After coming out to the two most important people in Buck's life, he decides to wait with telling the rest of his friends. he's ready, he just wants to find the right way to do so. Naturally, as this is Buck we're speaking about, things get a little out of his hands. Or should we say mouth?

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the ally and the beast by jobairdxx [e] [2.4k words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy knows he's late, and he feels awful about it. He so badly wanted to make it to the wedding, but the fire was an absolute inferno that would not go out. When it was finally extinguished and Tommy was given the okay to head out, he jumped in the rig with the rest of his crew, immediately asking them to drop him at the hospital. And of course they had given him grief for it, but he didn't care as long as they got him where he needed to be. When he walks through the ER bay doors and sees Evan, he's instantly apologetic. “Sorry I'm late, that fire was a beast.” But then Evan hits him with a, “So are you,” and grabs him and kisses him, and he wouldn't be able to stop the moan that leaves his mouth if he tried.

--

i could be the one (or your new addiction) by milominderbinder [t] [4k words, one-shot]

summary:

“You know you’ve got a hard limit on five Tommy mentions per day,” Hen says.  She puts one hand on her hip, and the other points accusingly towards the large jar in the middle of the coffee table; once home to Cap’s homemade trail mix, it’s recently been emptied out, labelled the Tommy Jar, and is already stuffed half-full of Buck’s hard-earned dollars. It’s only been four weeks since he came out to everyone.  The jar was introduced by the end of week one. With a sigh, Buck reaches for his wallet. He pulls out two dollars, walks over, and stuffs them both into the jar.  “That’s one on credit,” he says, “'Cus you have to let me finish the story—" Five times Buck had to put a dollar in the Mentioning Tommy jar during 7x07, and one time nobody was around to catch him.

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an outlier that should not be counted by dadvans [e] [7.4 words, one-shot]

summary:

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

--

flying blind by kat2107 [t] [3.3 words, one-shot]

(have to be logged in to read)

summary:

Evan Buckley loves his boyfriend. He also loves sex. He would love to have sex with his boyfriend. When he gets a bad feeling why Tommy insists on keeping things PG13 way past any necessity, he turns to the only gay firefighter he knows. Consent is easy, right? It's all about the communication. note: There is a hint of bad sexual experiences Tommy had in the past when he was figuring out his sexuality. There is no details but it might be read as lack of consent, though it was more likely a lack of care.

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little by little by mediawhore [t] [4.7 words, one-shot]

summary:

‘Some wounds never vanish. Yet little by little, I learned to love my life.’ Mary Oliver Or Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.

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you've got the love to see me through by emquin [g] [4.7 words, one-shot]

summary:

Tommy's POV throughout 7x06 where he's mostly just exhausted.

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down, down, down by sketchytaco [t] [6.2 words, 4/4 chapters]

summary:

He rubs the smudged words on his chest more and more he gets older, wondering where his soulmate is. Wondering if they're thinking of him, if they're close. He wonders what they look like, what they sound like. If they've always been out, or if they're hiding, or even if its someone who hasn't figured themselves out yet.

--

five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by evcndiaz [m] [1.9 words, one-shot]

summary:

Buck meets God at a gay club. He finds him in an oil-slick puddle on a damp night, neon lights reflecting off the kaleidoscopic liquid in the parking lot. or; Evan Buckley falls in love with himself.

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raspberry by evcndiaz [e] [4.4 words, one-shot]

summary:

“do you want to dance with him?” evan raises an eyebrow. “i want to dance with you.” tommy sways forward, nudging his thumb up underneath evan’s jaw so he can tilt his face up and to the side where the man is dancing against some young twenty-something that thinks they have a chance. and hell, maybe they do. but tommy’s not interested in the kid, not tonight at least. he drops his voice, hand snaking down to evan’s ass so he can pull him close. “let me change that: do you want me to see you dancing with him?” evan shivers. bingo. or; sometimes three isn't a crowd. or x2; buck, tommy, and a gay club. things get messy. literally.

--

evan, elated and euphoric by brewrosemilk [e] [16.5 words, one-shot]

(log in to read it)

summary:

For a moment, that’s all that seems to echo inside of Buck’s head, more than ever before; you have a man on top of you, you are kissing a man; you’re touching a man, and he’s touching you, and you like it. Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment.

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a (not so) new hoodie by littlebipolarsunshine [g] [2.8 words, one-shot]

summary:

In which Buck doesn't look very closely when putting on a hoodie before going to work.

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learning to fly by captainmintyfresh [m] [56k words, ?/8 chapters]

summary:

A fic inspired by the 7x05 promo Tommy gives Buck the love he deserves. AKA Tommy goes from 0 to whipped as fuck real fast.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Because I will never get tired of them, here are some more fic recs. These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is an extract from the summaries on ao3.

Never Quite Awake by @sunshinemarauder 

“Endings are nothing unfamiliar to Lily Evans; she’s seen the ends of sisterhood, friendship, and innocence, all from miles away. But this is an end unlike any other. An end that was never supposed to happen.”

If to love someone once is to break their heart, to love them twice is to break yours.

Lily falls for James in her seventh year. But the couple are sent onto two diverging paths when a life-shattering altercation halts their burgeoning relationship. Five years later, she's a curse breaker and he is a soldier.

When they meet again, it feels like coming home.

All the angst that comes with a jily second chance romance that takes place during wartime. A fake dating subplot, cursebreaker!Lily, pining!James. What more could you want. France (country) - a relevant tag

Through The Rain by @bookeatingbean

James and Lily's first kiss, and the story behind it. There's some fluff, some character study, and some good old-fashioned angst.

If you're looking for a character study that shows how they grew up through their school years. This fic shows you that Lily was not a perfect person and James was a bully for the sake of it but he grew to understand that the world does not revolve around him and strives to do better. Or Lily is stubborn and James is the definition of a ride-or-die

It's been a long time by writtenbyfreckles (on ao3)

It's been ten years since Lily left Hogwarts. She's returned to England to work as a Healer on the "ward of the wacky", only to find home isn't as safe as she thought it was. An attack leaves her locked in a ward with her patients, a bunch of Death Eaters and an Auror she hasn't seen for a long time.

I need more cannon divergence Auror!James and Healer!Lily

The Guide To Becoming A Better Man For Lily Evans by @padfootswhiskers

prompt: I decided to walk outside shirtless (accidentally) but I forgot it's winter and why're you screaming at me like that? And oh gosh, you're very pretty.

lingering days, short-lived nights by letthebookbegin (on ao3)

The summer before seventh year, James is desperately trying to think of anything but Lily, who's burrowed her way into his mind and looks quite comfortable there.

The summer before seventh year, Lily is craving a distraction. Avoiding her sister, she picks an ice cream shop for shelter.

At the end of a long summer day, their paths cross - and the rest, as they say, is history.

Ties That Bind by @charmsandtealeaves

Lily Evans grew up with old wives tales about soul mates, but she'd never put much stock in the idea. Not until after she learned about the world of magic and the fact that soul bonds were a thing that actually existed. Which makes these strange new feelings and experiences that much more difficult to manage.

So I read this a while ago but stupidly forgot to bookmark it and then I spent nearly an hour trying to find it again. Needless to say, I ADORE this fic and you should all go read it. Like, right now. Then come back here to talk to me about it.

Lily Evans Doesn't Believe In I Love You's also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

“Did you hear Lily Evans doesn’t believe in I love you's?”

It wasn’t exactly a secret. But no one knew why, until she decided to share a bottle of fire whiskey in the astronomy tower with James Potter.

Same Lily, same

Meet Me At The River also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

A chance encounter with a misplaced owl leads to a correspondence between pen pals. Lily confides in her mysterious Flea and finds herself falling along the way.

I can't remember if I've recommended this one already, but even if I have I'll rec it again because I love it so much!!

Your Friend, James by @thelighthousestale

It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Just the ending of this one is everything. James and Sirius are never beating the codependent allegations

Castling by @missgryffin

When they were still very young, Remus Lupin’s dad married Lily Evans’ mum. It changes everything.

Lily and Remus are like the little brother who got bullied and then found friends except he invited them over for the first time and they all act weird because they're mildly terrified of his older sister. Friends to lovers jily is only rivaled by academic rivals jily.

Just the Two of Us by @arianatwycross

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation by @kay-elle-cee

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

DRESS IS A JILY SONG FOREVER AND ALWAYS

The Devil in the Cloak Room by @chiechie97

Getting your heart broken when you’re 17 seems to alter your brain chemistry more than you would think. Which is the precise reason why Lily has no intention of reconnecting with the friends she lost at the end of school.

And besides, she has no chance of knowing anyone at the masked Halloween party her friend drags her to. Especially not the guy in the devil mask. Right?

Usually I rec complete works but this one is so good I had to include it

Deception and other ways to find love by @annasghosts

“I’ll be your fake girlfriend, Potter.” And this is how Lily Evans embarks on the adventure of (fake) dating her former Hogwarts nemesis (and crush, but ssssh, it’s a secret). Will she be able to keep her cool? Will he?

Class of '78 by @emeralddoeadeer

Class of 1978 Five Year Reunion - July 29th, 1983

Now is the time to look upon our shared experience, our similarities must unite us rather than letting our differences divide us. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry invites the Graduating Class of 1978 to return to the castle for a weekend of reconnecting, reminiscing and recreation. We hope the passage of time has been kind to you all and look forward to welcoming you soon.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc, DWiz, X.J sorc, S of Mag Q

It's been five years since graduation, and while many things have changed, some things never will.

James Potter Won't Go Quietly by la_plus_heureuse (on ao3)

Lily Evans remembers plenty about James Potter from Hogwarts. But an assignment from Mojo Magazine to profile the Quidditch star turned activist makes her realize what she remembered was all wrong.

canon divergence staring quidditch player James and journalist Lily

On A Scale of One to Ten (requires an ao3 account) by @petalsinwoodvale

Lily starts falling for an insecure, yet charming auror named James who is recovering from injury in her ward. No one else on staff will sit and talk to him, mostly due to septic skin covering most of his upper torso. Lily, however, finds him charming and funny. Naturally, when James' injuries start healing, he grows more and more handsome. The other healers suddenly take interest in James, romantically ...

foxy by lizpaige (on ao3)

Lily joins the boys at the shrieking shack on a particularly difficult moon in her new animagus form.

Lily & Remus friendship is so special to me

[konigbabe]

LUCKY PICK

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader Word count: 3.1k Tags/warnings: no y/n; gambling; smut; public sex; pure filth; getting caught; p-in-v; unprotected sex; Toji's a little bit of a meanie; blowjob; pussy slapping (like once) Summary: Toji's frequent presence at the boat races doesn’t go unnoticed by your observant gaze. Every time you see him, however, luck seems to elude him, leaving him on the losing end; until you offer the man assistance in selecting a boat–lucky you, he wins. So he finds a way to thank you properly.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

Amidst the kaleidoscope of social strata, one thing that sticks out for you: his shoes.

While some attendees adorn themselves in lavish, bespoke suits, busy with their own affairs while the events before them serve as a mere backdrop, others, those less fortunate, come in more casual in hopes to earn some quick money.

He, on the other hand, is rather glaring with his choice of clothing. Too casual. Insouciant. Black tracksuit, something more fitting for a morning jog or a workout at the gym. The fabric seems slightly worn, a faint stain on the sleeve. His shoes, however, are the most intriguing part of his ensemble. They stand out. Like a flash of lightning on a stormy night.

In a sea of polished leather and high-end dress shoes, he wears a pair of scuffed, worn flip-flops. It's not just the stark contrast between his flip-flops and the elegant footwear of others that piques your interest. Rather the aura of confidence and a nonchalant demeanor that could easily be mistaken for arrogance.

Even for the outfit, he’s rather handsome. Raven hair tumbling down just to his ears, framing the chiseled planes of his face. The faint scar on the corner of his right lip only adds to the air of mystery surrounding him.

In contrast to the meticulously groomed individuals around him, his appearance carries an air of authenticity. As if he doesn't conform to societal norms but carves his own path instead.

He’s here often. Twice a week. A clockwork of unwavering routine. A regular fixture. Each time, he places his bet on the same number. It’s always three. No regard for any other possibilities. He’s staying the whole day, watches all the races and loses his money. Each and every time.

You stand on the stairs leading to the ticket vending machines, overlooking the racers warm up around the buoy. People passing by until he’s here again. In the same outfit, with the same aura of disregard, detachment.

He passes you as well. A solid wall, going straight, no disregard whether you move out of the way or not. Makes you take a step aside. You know he’s here to lose again. Letting out a grunt, an annoyed huff of air, your voice carries through the loud environment when his bicep brushes your shoulder.

"Here to lose again?"

It makes him stop. Look you dead in the eyes. You can feel the steel behind his eyes as he studies you. Tries to understand why someone like him – a man who’d been losing every race for months – is being confronted by someone like you, someone with nothing more than a passing interest in the track and its races.

For a moment, time seems to slow down as his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, like storm-touched steel, easily likened to polished basalt, peer out from under strong, dark eyebrows. Hooded. Locked onto yours. A thunderous downpour.

He stays silent for solid few seconds. Possibly aiming to intimidate you into leaving him alone. Yet, he fails as you stand tall next to him; not backing down or wilting away under his scrutiny.

"Who says I’m here to lose," he retorts, a touch of defiance in his voice. The hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he studies you, perhaps trying to gauge your intentions.

As you arch an eyebrow, you remark, "I haven’t seen you win yet. You've been betting on the same number, sir, every time I've seen you here. And from what I've observed, you haven't had much luck."

His brows furrow momentarily before he responds with a knowing smirk, matching your aura with his own brand of dry wit.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. Besides, one day, that number will hit."

His confidence is almost infectious, and despite the peculiar choice of his attire and betting strategy, there's an air of genuineness in his words.

"Then why don’t you bet for other numbers," your body pivots to face him, arms crossed over your chest, "try it," you hold your chin high, " buy a place-show, numbers four and six."

To your suggestion of trying other numbers, the man chuckles softly, seemingly amused by the idea, "and why would I do that?"

"You have better odds with the place-show ticket rather than the win ticket," you explain with a shrug, "and if you lose, you’ll have someone else to aim your anger at."

He smirks, nodding thoughtfully as if considering your proposition. "Ah, you're one of those logical types, ain’t ya? Always calculating the odds an’ playing it safe."

You chuckle at the characterization, appreciating his keen observation. "I haven’t lost in a long time. Plus," you blatantly look him up and down, "I have a feeling you could use some luck, and maybe a touch of charm wouldn't hurt either."

He raises an eyebrow, the faint scar on his lip accentuating the mischievous glint in his eye. "Charm, huh? What's in it for you?"

Flashing a grin at his question (it's a valid one, after all), you meet the playful spark in his laden eyes.

"Oh, nothing much," you reply, feigning nonchalance, a familiar mask that you wear to try to stifle the faint tremor of fear, "let’s just say if you win, you’ll owe me a favor."

One moment, you were sitting a few seats next to the man, a winning ticket grasped between your fingers; both watching the race unfold before your eyes.

Next, a subtle, self-assured grin spreads over his face as the winning numbers are announced.

("Would ya’ look a’that.."

"Who would’ve thought…")

And then, flicker in time. You find yourself in an alleyway, still at the stadium and next to a dumpster. Away from the fanfare of the racetrack. A putrid stench of decaying food still in the air overpowered by the potent, heady musk of Toji’s body as the concrete scrapes against your naked knees. Uncomfortable and rough.

Pants lowered down only enough for his cock to spring free; the tip glistening with pearls, a byproduct of his pleasure. Lifting your head slightly, you dip down to kiss the dew away as your hand, wet with precum and spit, moves over his length, pads tracing every curve and ridge.

Lips swollen. Jaw hurting from the tight fit, Toji’s fingers grip the top of your head; urging you to take him in deeper, feel him heave in your mouth. Careless to the fact you should need air. But at this moment, looking up and seeing his eyes already boring into yours, oxygen’s the last thing on your mind.

"That’s it," his husky froan reverberates in your ears as his thumb traces the arch of your eyebrow before his hand cups your cheek, cradles your face, "atta girl."

His words cause heat flooding into your core. A warmth to blossom from deep within. Feeling your heart thudding between your legs, you press your thighs together more. Fingers moving along the exposed, wet slit before pushing one in—

It’s barely a stretch. Disappointing.

—then two.

Letting his cock from your mouth, the sweetness lingering on your tongue as you move the top of your tongue along the underside of his head. Glistening, painfully swollen and painfully red. Hand gliding over the length, thumb pressing onto the sensitive slit, causing a stream of Fuck, Goddamn and your name stream from his bruised lips.

Spit-covered lips trace the underside of his cock, leaving a glossy trail behind. With a trembling breath, he taps your temple.

"Up."

You don’t even register his command before a hand encloses your arm, effortlessly lifting you on your feet.

"Wait," you squeal, a mixture of surprise and trepidation when he crunches down. Putting a hand instinctively on his shoulder to steady yourself, you feel the taut muscle, finely sculpted and responsive to his movements. Fingers gripping your ankle with determined strength; in one deft motion, he liberates your leg from the confines of the pant leg (and carelessly leaves the other be).

For a moment, you feel like a child again – pushed around, a small puppet, being dressed and undressed by another's hands.

It’s all happening too fast yet not swiftly enough.

His lips brush over your dripping core. Gives it a lick. A taste of your sweetness, humming in appreciation when your juices coat his tongue, lips, chin. And when you push your hips into his face, shamelessly chasing the feeling of his tongue – he stands back up. Palm making a benign impact with your swollen core, leaving you gasping from the sudden jolt of pain.

"Maybe ‘nother time," he speaks up. Hand grasping your ankle, resting it against his shoulder, heel digging into his collarbone, foot beside his face. Teeth grace your ankle, the wet tip of his tongue darting to lick a stripe over the fibula. All while his fingers spread the wetness leaking out of you, fingertips tracing your opening, teasing the entrance with his pads.

"Someone’s a lil’ eager."

You feel the blunt press. Too thick for his fingers.

The head of his cock spreads you open. You fight the urge to close your eyes, lean onto the brick wall barely touching your back. Instead, you force your gaze to remain on Toji’s face; his eyes hooded, barely open but piercing through you as he pushes forward. Slowly.

His hips push forward, fighting the resistance as you welcome the feeling. Heart racing, a groan leaves your lips when Toji grips your waist and pulls you onto him. Cock grazing your sensitive walls, you watch his eyes close in a blissful moment momentarily.

A feeling of triumph washes over you – you managed to capture the beast itself in its most vulnerable state.

Then he snaps. Gets impatient. And if it wasn’t for the hand on your waist, you’d certainly lose balance with the raw, almost inhuman strength with which he thrusts into you.

"Ugh—fuck, oh God," eyes closed, you succumb to the feeling; shallow, deep thrusts slowly speeding up, turning into something more resembling a pounding. Savage.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, fingers digging into the fat of your hips before moving upwards, cupping your clothed breast, thumb flicking your erect nipple, "told ya it’s Toji."

It goes like this. You try to steady yourself on one foot, clinging onto Toji’s arms as if he’s your beacon. Mouth agape, you rest your forehead on his collarbone. The hamstring in your leg feels close to ripping apart when his hand slides onto your thigh, providing a reassurance that makes the ache between your legs flare up with ardent fervor.

Toji pulls and pushes — forcing your body to twist, spinning you around to the point where your hands can rest on the wall. One leg’s still on the ground while the other is held against his broad chest. All while his thrusts remain merciless.

He fills you up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your depths, stretching you wider and deeper than before. Shameless squelching filling your ears whenever he bottoms out. Pulls out only halfway, his cock glistening with your juices and his precum when it almost slips free. Coaxing moan after moan from you.

"Damn," he stops, cock buried to the hilt and you feel the pads of his fingers swipe over your clit. Moving down, to the place you two are connected, "feel that?"

Wetness; his fingers dip between your folds, trace your core.

"Look at that."

And you look — wishing that maybe you didn’t. He scissors his fingers before your face, showing off the sticky substance connecting his fingers, glistening in the daylight. Heat shoots up your whole body when his smug face watches your reaction, a sly grin spreading on his lips when a moan comes out of you.

His thrusts come back without warning. Deep. He pulls you back into his cock.

It’s blissful. Euphoric. But painful.

"Can’t," you breath out, feeling close to cramping, "m’not that flexible."

"Oh really," he remarks. Yet, his grasp loosens on your body.

It feels like hours have passed with the way Toji ruts into you. Truly living up to the expectations one would’ve expected from a man his build and reputation.

Bend over, palms flat against the rough surface of the brick wall, Toji relentlessly pounds into you. The spongy head of his cock feels as if it’s breaching the opening of your cervix, mingling pain and pleasure in a confusing mix.

"Hey," a high-pitched voice startles you, Toji’s pelvis kissing the flesh of your ass as he buries himself to the brim, "What you doin’ there?!"

His hand moves from the arch of your back, fingers burning as they trace onto your hip. Squeezing, locking you against him.

"Takin’ a piss," Toji remains unfazed. Voice laced with a subtle hint of boredom while his cock pulsates inside you.

Taking a hand off the wall, you slap it across your mouth. Gentle fear of even your breaths being heard (and it doesn’t matter that you are good ten meters from the passerby).

"The toilets are right over there," the man shouts, making you question whether he’ll take a step toward you.

You’re aware that for a passerby, your figure is hidden behind the dumpster and unless Toji thrusts into you, it would look as if the man is simply relieving himself in the alley. Still fully clothed, only the front of his pants down enough for his cock to be free, one might think he’s telling the truth.

Silence falls onto you, forcing your head to turn to the side. Neck straining, you look over your shoulder – Toji’s unphased, nonchalant demeanor combined with the overly muscular physique visible even with loose clothes on radiates authority. Brutality. His demeanor serene; a tranquil lake at dawn. It would frighten you as well if you weren’t impaled on his cock.

His head lurches to the left, eyes locking onto the poor man's soul with an intense and penetrating gaze. It might be enough to scare the man away. To leave you alone.

That’s when he pulls back. Only an inch, mere centimeters but still enough to thrust back with rough intent. Body jolting forward, a surprised yelp gets muffled by your hand. Heat ripples through you.

He’s shameful, you realize. Salacious with his indecency.

The corners of his lips turn upward. Not enough for the passersby to see but from your point of view, it only fuels the sadistic image of the man behind you. The man whose cock keeps massaging your walls with shallow, almost non-existent thrusts.

How dare he.

"Whatever."

Loud footsteps echo through the alley before Toji’s fingers curl around your nape and he yanks. Hand pushing against the lower of your back, the other moving to the side of your neck as he twists your body into his own, pliant toy. Into a position he desires.

"Damn–," he breaths against the hairs on the back of your neck, chill breath washing over the shivering area, "does that turn ya’ on? Being watched?"

He pulls back at a leisurely pace. Unhurried. In and out.

"Fucked dumb on my dick–"

In and out.

"–while some loser watches your drippin’ cunt soak me."

Hitting that sweet, sensitive but delicate spot deep inside you; that even your fingers cannot reach. The one that makes you see stars, feel the heat in your core spread.

"Shut up," you basically snarl, pushing your ass into his crotch with fervor, forcing him deeper, causing his breath to hitch with his lips brushing over your burning skin, "shut up."

He chuckles at that. Licks a stripe over your shoulder. Moves to the side of your neck before his teeth sink into the earlobe, tugging.

"Could feel you squeezin’ me back then," the hand on the side of your neck inches forward; now resting firmly against the front of your neck, a silent reminder of the power it wields. The pressure is gentle but firm, a subtle yet unmistakable display of control. All while Toji matches your rhythm, thrusting at a pace that gets you closer to the sweet abyss.

Your hand moves from the wall, slides over the curve of your belly and find its place between your legs.

"Close ‘em," Toji’s thrusts grow in intensity. Forcing your body forward – to prevent falling, his hand on your back moves to rest against the wall, trapping your delicate hand underneath the roughness of his palm, the other holding you close by the neck.

"Ugh–wh–what," you barely breathe out, legs straining to keep the pace as the heat spreads.

"Your legs. Close ‘em."

And you do. Pushing your thighs together, a whole new sensation surges through your body as his cock fills you up. And it seems Toji feels the same by the way your name leaves his lips in a heavy groan, forehead resting against the crown of your head.

"Fuck yeah," he sighs, palm kneading the flesh of your ass. He’s pushing his hips against yours. Pulls you back into him with fingers itching to your aching nub. Finger flicking over it, making you shudder and moans to grow louder.

The coil in your abdomen grows tighter with each flick of his finger, kiss of his cock. Breath catching in your throat, you push back against Toji when the searing bliss washes over you.

He fucks you through it all.

"Gonna cum," you feel him thicken, pulse inside you. Hips stuttering, speeding and growing in intensity as he chases his own high.

"Not inside," you don’t struggle. Let him absolutely destroy you.

And he listens. Gives you few more fucks before he pulls out. Fists his cock, eyes watching your dripping, swollen pussy before you feel the sticky globes land on your core, slide down your clenching thighs.

He groans behind you. Hand resting on top of your ass, thumb caressing the skin there as you try to catch your breath. All while the man seems only slightly fazed by all the fucking. Makes you feel weak, pathetic — looking like you’d done a full workout while he’s standing behind you.

You stand back up. Wipe the cum off with a tissue you dig from your bag before pulling your pants back up, breath still slightly labored.

"Was this what I owed you?"

He fixes his pants, adjusting the waistband to hug the defined muscles of his lower abdomen, fleshing you his happy trail.

You shake your head to which his eyes narrow softly, "I want to hire you, Mr Fushiguro," hands fixing the mess on top of your head, you turn your back to The Sorcerer Killer, "take the win as your upfront payment."

[mintkookiess]

It's Always Been Her.

A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)

Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it

Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ

Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated

(Pls be nice ty)

Love,

Mint

P.S. AO3 saw it first here!

Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.

"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.

"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.

But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.

"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.

"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.

It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.

"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.

Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.

Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.

She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.

Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.

Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.

It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."

After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.

"You still love her."

Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.

But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.

Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.

He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.

The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.

Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.

To run.

To hide.

To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.

His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.

As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.

She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.

If that was even possible.

Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.

She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.

Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.

Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.

Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.

Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.

Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.

He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.

Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.

But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.

Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.

She didn't even feel any pain.

Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.

It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.

Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.

Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.

It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.

"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.

"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.

He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.

"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.

But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.

Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.

Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.

She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.

Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.

He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.

So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.

His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.

She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.

Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.

"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.

Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.

The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.

"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.

She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.

It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.

How could he do that to her?

To destroy her trust?

Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.

"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.

She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.

She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.

But now, it wasn't her home anymore.

Fin.

See more of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

[festive]

✿ - cyno x fem!reader

content+warnings: fem!reader, pet names used, established relationships, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, use of vibrators, multiple orgasms.

✿ - a/n: posted on my ao3 a few days ago, decided to post here. anyways more scholar!reader x cyno. happy holidays, y’all!

++ tagging: @bubble4u @thicksimpx

Cyno's been worried about you; lately, he's overheard from the other students just how hard you've been working — day in and day out, dedicating yourself to your studies; even Faruzan had mentioned you once or twice to him in hopes that he could help.

Although, as clever as Cyno was, not even he knew what he could do — yeah, Cyno could play mother hen and tell you not to overwork yourself, but even he knows you're way too stubborn to listen, and you would probably shrug him off with 'just five more minutes.

Not knowing how he could help, he turned to a friend. He's thankful he caught Kaveh when he did, much to the blonde's dismay seeing as how Kaveh was complaining about being locked out again.

But considering how fond of Cyno, Kaveh was, as soon as he heard the dilemma, he was more than willing to help. He had given the smaller male plenty of solutions, yet they all led him to the same place.

A foreign goods vendor on the outskirts of the bazaar, that's what the eccentric blonde had told him.

Cyno walks around mindlessly, his eyes falling on all the different shops and trinkets that decorate the way. From the candy to the freshly baked goods, he'd bring you some later as a treat after he buys what he needs first.

Cyno did a fantastic job brushing off all the cowering looks he received from countless people, wondering what archon-forsaken thing sent him to the bazaar. Even with his disguise, the jackal ears that stood proudly on his hood were very distinguishable.

Look for the stand on the furthest part of the bazaar. It's hard to miss. Kaveh's words ring through Cyno's head. The stand on the most distant part.. he murmurs.

And sure enough, after walking for what felt like hours. There stood the shop, hidden behind two other stalls, draped in deep purple and golden clothes — although nothing distinguished this seller from the others.

"Are you the shopkeeper?"

He's greeted by a taller woman that dwarfed him completely in height, with darker skin — long purple hair that was parted down the middle, but what stood out the most was the pair of long, fluffy ears that protruded proudly from her head, reminiscent of Tighnari's, and the geo vision that rested upon her neck.

"Why yes, you're correct, young general mahamatra," Cyno quirks an eyebrow, and the woman laughs, pushing aside the candles and other exotic goods across the counter. "I am Sheba. I've heard all about you from Kaveh,"

Sheba, as she calls herself, ducks underneath her desk. Cyno can hear her fumbling with whatever's under there — watching as her puffy tail sways back and forth until she finally gets up.

"I have exactly what you need," Her cerulean eyes beam, lighting up in joy as she places an item on the counter, nearly pushing it into Cyno's hold.

Cyno glances at it expectantly, snatching it off the counter.

It looks like it's made of the same advanced technology the ruin guards are made of, he thinks — knowing exactly what their reactor cores look like, he finds it odd how the device has the same designs.

"Is this a weapon?" Cyno asks, curiously looking over the wand-shaped item he was handed — the object's outline reflecting in his ruby-red eyes. Cyno's seen many odd devices, runes, and mechanisms, but nothing compares to this. He continues examining it, checking for any blades.

The merchant laughs, nearly doubling over in amusement. "Hah, surely you jest?" Then, wiping at her eyes as water collects around the edges.

Cyno stares at her blankly, lips formed into a straight line before summoning his weapon. Sheba jumps, eyes locking onto the sharp blade of his polearm.

"Ahaha, no need for violence. Here, allow me to demonstrate," cautiously Sheba gestures towards the device, palm shakily reaching forward until finally, Cyno places the object in her palms. She chooses her following words wisely, she's heard of all the rumors and tales that circled the General Mahamatra, and she was determined not to be the next story in the tavern.

"Look," Sheba says while pushing one of the buttons. Cyno watches as the device's intrinsic designs glow before it starts up, the blunt end of the object vibrating furiously. "See, like this," The woman laughs awkwardly, trying to save her hide.

"I see,"

To further sell her point, she starts talking about how advanced the piece of technology is. "It's popular amongst the women in Fontaine. In fact," She drawls, watching as Cyno looms in closer. "they all recommended this as their best way to relieve built-up stress."

It's working. Cyno's further intrigued; his ears perk up when she mentions the stress part.

"And look," Holding out the device, Sheba waves it around before pressing another button. "It even comes with different vibrations, and you can control the speed!" She chirps, demonstrating all its settings.

"How much," Cyno asks, arms folded against his chest.

"200,000 mora."

"That's a scam,"

Sheba sighs, ears drooping dramatically before taking the toy in her palms. "I guess you don't really want to help your beloved that much," She turns away, a sly smirk playing on her lips while she waits for the white-haired man to fall victim to her ploy.

And just like that, it happens.

"I love my beloved wife very much," Cyno grumbles, reaching for his pouch that carried all his mora before dropping it on the counter. "It's yours."

"Sold," Sheba beams, "and just for you, I'll wrap it, just like a gift!"

After completing the transaction, Cyno picks up his purchase before trailing off.

Kaveh was right. His friend was a lovesick fool, Sheba thinks.

"Thanks for the purchase. I hope to see you again soon." She beams, waving off the smaller man, praying to the archons she'll see him again — fools like him were her favorite, easy buyers.

+

Cyno didn't even realize he was gone for so long until he felt the cold desert air brush against his skin, making haste towards your home away from school.

He can see the candle-lit room from your opened window. The more he peeks in. Finally, he can see you hunched over your desk on the other side.

He's quick and quiet — effortlessly sneaking in through the open window. You don't even realize he's in your room until he speaks up.

"My dove," his voice is soft but enough to startle you, nearly causing you to shriek as you jump in your seat.

"Oh, archons, Cyno, you nearly gave me a heart attack." You sigh, your heart still pounding from the scare you received mere minutes before.

Your lover apologizes, "You've been overworking yourself," Cyno points to the bags that have grown underneath your eyes, then to the paperwork in front of you.

"I know," You let out a heavy breath, "but look, I'm almost done," Before you pick your pen up, Cyno snatches it away, careful not to hurt you.

"Tonight, I want you to relax,"

"But,"

"I'm not asking you. You will," Cyno's voice is stern, causing you to lean back in your seat, defeated. Your eyes wander to the bags placed in his hands, and soon enough, his gaze follows yours.

"What's that," You point. Cyno merely shrugs, placing them both on your bed before digging through them. You're quick to recognize the smell that wafts through the air.

"Padisarah pudding," you inquire, sniffing the air for good measure. "I want it,"

A gentle smile tugs at Cyno's lips as a soft laugh escapes him. "After,"

You huff. "What else did you get?"

Cyno's hands fumble with the other bag. You can hear the sound of paper wrinkling as he searches for whatever it is. "A foreign gift," unboxing the 'gift,' Cyno holds it up.

You nearly choke on your spit as you realize what he bought precisely. "That's a vibrator," you cover your face in embarrassment, having heard countless stories about how your friends had enjoyed them.

"A what," Cyno looks at you perplexed, as he examines the vibrator again. "The merchant said this was popular amongst the women,"

You try to stifle a laugh, although you fail horribly. "Oh, I'm sure it is,"

As soon as you stop laughing, you explain to Cyno its purpose, feeding his curiosity as he stares between you and the toy.

"Can we use it?" Cyno asks all too eagerly.

"What,"

"Can we try it,"

Although embarrassing, it's pretty endearing seeing how eager Cyno was to use it. You nod, "I don't see why not, but how do to go about this?" Then, you question, did he want to watch you use it? You wonder.

A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, "You'll see."

+

The buzzing sound coming from the vibrator resonates through the room — mixed in with the soft gasps and whimpers that fall from your lips.

"Cyno,"

Your lover hums, rubbing circles into the softness of your breasts. Your legs are shaking above his, and it's getting harder for you to keep them extended —- sensing this, he spreads them even further using his limbs; your knees fold over him as he forces them open.

"Relax for me, my dove," Cyno dips his head further into the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses upon the column until finally, his lips stop behind your ear.

"You've been working so hard lately, let me take care of you." The drop of timbre in his voice, mixed with his warm breath fanning against your skin, is enough for the hair on your neck to stand up while it sends shivers down your spine.

Leaving no room for argument, you recline to your fate — allowing yourself to relax as the toy rubs against your clit, massaging the poor bundle of nerves in a tantalizing slow motion.

"Cyno," you moan breathlessly as you allow your body to lay limp against his — closing your eyes, you let your head lul against his chest as you focus on the sensation, allowing your fantasies to race through your mind.

Cyno's hand plays with your breast while the other grips the vibrating wand, holding it between your legs as the heads nudged between your folds, vibrating against your clit.

The position your lover has you in is embarrassing, leaving nothing to be hidden as you're forced to stare at your semi-naked body in the mirror. In addition, your robe is awkwardly out of place, the ends bunched up around your waist, while the top is undone, hanging loose enough to expose your chest to the cool air.

"You're so beautiful," He praises, and you gasp — the toy bringing you even closer to your orgasm. You grab his wrist, your breaths becoming shallow as the coil in your tummy tightens.

"'S close," You slur, fidgeting in his lap, your ass grinding against his growing erection with enough friction to cause him to groan.

Even his grasp on the vibrator becomes shaky, as you continue to grind your hips against his, bucking your cunt into the toy.

"'S close, 's close," You cry out, Cyno presses another button, and you can hear the faint click before the head of the toy speeds up.

Although there's another faint noise, and just as you're about to cum, the toy stops — leaving you pent up at your high without a way down before the feeling disappears.

You look at Cyno horrified, and he mutters a string of curses under his breath. "Stupid cat, selling me a defective good," he swears in reference to the merchant from before.

"I—" he bites on his inner cheek, "I can fix this," Tossing the dead toy to the side, Cyno traces your folds with his fingers. Your slick catching on his digits. "You're so wet," He breathes against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss on your skin.

You shudder, feeling Cyno sink his fingers into your heat. He starts with two, slowly pushing them in and out of your cunt — slightly stretching your hole with each thrust.

"More!" You whine, and you can feel Cyno's muscles flex against your back as he hunches over you — speeding up his ministrations.

As soon as your slick pools around him, he slides in an extra finger — curving them just enough to prod and poke at your spongiest spot that has you seeing stars.

He's sure he's found it by how your thighs quiver around his and how your breath hitches in your throat. Finally, he pulls back, retracting his fingers before sliding them back in with enough precision to impale that sensitive spot inside you.

Spots of white decorate your sight as that familiar feeling from before comes back. Your hands claw at Cyno's muscular thighs, your nails leaving scratches across his flesh.

"Gonna cum," You moan, drool spilling from the corner of your lips. You nearly lose it as you feel Cyno thumb at your clit — vigorously rubbing circles into the hardened nub.

Your body falls limp against Cyno's hold, your orgasm hitting you hard as he lazily pumps his fingers inside you while your walls spasm around him.

He kisses your temple, his lips soft against your skin.

"You did so well. You know that?" Cyno hums, and you can still feel his erection straining against you.

"What 'bout you," you slur, still hazy from your orgasm.

"Ah, don't worry about it," He says, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips.

"But I want to," Your hands weakly fumble with the hem of his pants until you finally free his cock — he hisses, feeling you guide him towards your cunt. Spreading your folds with his shaft as you grind yourself against him.

"You're dangerous. You know that?"

+

Cyno lays with his back against the bed, beads of sweat forming along his brows as he anxiously watches you.

You lift your hips slightly, aligning yourself with the leaky tip of Cyno's cock — rubbing it up and down your folds.

Cyno groans, and you feel him shudder underneath you before he mutters out a quick ‘don’t tease me’, there’s a pause, and you hear a ‘please’ after — it’s small, but desperate enough for you to almost feel bad.

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your hips against his. You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno's cock forces its way inside you — his sheer girth alone, feeling like it'll split you in two.

A soft moan escapes Cyno's lips as he bottoms out, the warmth of your gummy walls wrapping around him going insane.

There's a smirk on your face as you lean closer to Cyno, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Gonna take care of you,"

You wait for a moment, giving yourself enough time to relax around his girth.

Cyno, unsure of what to do, places his hands loosely on your hips, the tips of his thumbs rubbing circles in the softness of your skin.

His eyebrows are furrowed, and you can see his lips quiver as he tries to hold himself back — his flustered expression was cute, you think.

Your pace starts off slow while you relish in the way your lover's cock fits inside you — much to his dismay, Cyno rolls his hips against yours, desperately looking for more friction.

"Cyno," You moan, and the man underneath you groans, gritting his teeth — he can barely take it. He needs more.

Cyno doesn't say a word, and the grip on your hips becomes bruising, but before you have the chance even to think — you're flipped onto your back with your lover looming over you.

"Cyno," You look at him in surprise. Cyno readjusts your body into a better position — throwing your legs carelessly over his shoulders as he guides his cock back toward your hole.

You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno slams into you with a relentless pace, your arms wrap around his body in hopes of grounding yourself — though the more he ruts into you, the harder it is for you to think.

Especially when the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix with each movement while his shaft drags along your walls — all you can think about is how good he feels inside you.

"You feel so good," he groans, although you can barely register the words coming from his mouth. Your brain feels fuzzy, and it's getting harder for you to concentrate.

Cyno's name falls off your lips like a prayer as he continues thrusting into you, your walls squeezing tightly around him — it's not long before he pulls another orgasm from you.

This time you scream, falling slack against the covers. Cyno wraps an arm around you, almost possessively, while he readjusts your body to slam into you with a better angle.

He pants, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a pap noise. He's close.

All it takes is a few more thrusts before his cock twitches for the last time — spilling his seed inside your cunt as he idly thrusts into you until he's sure you've thoroughly milked him.

The mixture of your juices seeps out from your folds as he pulls away with a squelching sound. His hold on your waist falters, but his arm still rests across your flesh. You can feel the sweat dripping from him.

You both don't say anything, preferring to bask in the silence of your post-orgasmic bliss and enjoy each other's presence. Until your stomach growls and your eyes shoot open. Suddenly you remember the treat he had brought before.

“Cyno, I want the pudding!”

[kazehita]

hi! i noticed your recent post recommending the fic natural satellite and i think i've noticed other isat fics around your blog too. because of that, i was wondering if you had a list of recommended isat fics! i will admit i am not someone who just peruses around on ao3 but i love reading about these characters so if you have any recs, i would greatly appreciate them! thanks and i hope you have a lovely day :3

I love ALL isat fic - each and every one is so special and wonderful - but if I listed the whole archive that wouldn't really help huh... So! Im going to list just some off the top of my head., this is in no way definitive. Isat spoilers ahead - get all the way through the game and the secret before proceeding.

Big recommendation list below:

Additionally, mind the tags for each fic - I wont be specifying the content warnings here.

(don't just read the complete ones!!! Incomplete fic is just as delightful I promise :3)

Complete: Bloom - Level99Eevee Most people know it, it sits at the top of the tag! It's my every wish fulfilled for post-cannon moments.

Memories of defeat - dirtbagtrashcat Stuff in and immediately after the loops, fantastic extrapolations!!!! Very much Loop <33 I find this very grounded and realistic!!!!

Emotion Sickness - dirtbagtrashcat Post cannon fun/trauma with siffrin and the gang.

Memories of Touch - dirtbagtrashcat look i just really like their work sjkdjkfjkasdf its all good go through their profile. This is Isa thoughts.

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? - rabbit_soup Post-game! I love how they flesh out the world.

The Understudy - kittyorange Suuuuch a loop fic I love it to bits. Post cannon loop and the gang stuff.

Star-Speckled Skin - Lora_Blackmane Funn angsty moment, title is very descriptive. Lives in my head rent free.

Clinging to dying embers - Coffeewolf67 Odile's perspective of sif using the dagger. appropriate content warnings apply :)

between the end and a new start - glowingjellyfishtreelights SICKFICCC I had a very funny experience with this one where due to memory mishaps I got to read it for the first time twice! Absolute banger.

What's in a name? - Raaj Explores siffrins love of plays. I have to regularly reread this for my brain to function.

Starstruck - Dusk_Illusionist Isa yearns. The fic. It rocks.

Saturn Devouring His Son (Time Choking on Stone Choking on Blood)- BasilPaste Post cannon moment... I like it...

(Why) you can't let them know by Mayasynth sasasap fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i like it. i hold it. i like it. UGH theres more but I have already listed so many.. my other favorites... im so sorry.,.. i love you guys too... Incomplete:

How To Rest by rabbit_soup Sequel to "And if i were not myself, would this be easier?" Loop is here and I love violence.

TRY IT AGAIN, CHEATER! by discatded "[Loop returns to their own universe after everything. It's hard.]" - from the summary. Love it love it. I will never get enough of this premise.

To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above by Cinnamin_Is_a_Star "Sif if he was team rocket" and is so fun. Very excited to see this one pan out!

until we move on. by Anonymous (also known as lozy) LOOP MY BELOVED..! loop returns to their universe and promptly looses it like the universe intended. Cant get enough of it.

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat If a single fic makes me the Most insane its natural satellite if I'm honest.... like bro... It just gets right to me...

Sunder by Miranda_tries_their_best Post-cannon Loop fic!! They travel on their own for a bit (but not forever), and I love it dearly.

Face the Light by Kaimiiru Post-game, I hold it close to my heart.... Ah... It's so dear to me.

These next two are sloop so if that's not your thing you have been warned :]

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac I'm holding this high above my head so everyone can see it the characterization is off the charts.

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art Changeling Loop fic!! What a fun concept. I am excited to see where it goes. yay! AGAIN... THERE ARE SO MANY I LOVE SO MUCH but im forcing myself not to look through the tag else I'd add everything. Honestly, I do recommend just launching right on into the ao3 tag for ISAT even if you aren't super familiar with ao3. Just be sure to filter out anything you don't want to see!

Consider this a good starting point ^^

[tswaney17]

Accidental Chemistry - Part 3: All the Feelings

Happy @elriel-month besties!! Wanted to kick off the celebration with an update to this AU (I know, it's been a minute). I've been struggling to write this AU and I hope to get back to it after May. So, to hold you over...enjoy! 😘

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘 Dedicated to @duskwhisperer. 💜

Trigger warnings: None, to my knowledge

Word Count: 5,305

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.

It had been just over two months since Elain began working at the Starlight Café. She’d already gotten a handful of paychecks, opened a bank account in her name, and made her first rent payment to Azriel, per her adamant request to do so.

The first two weeks of work had been rough. She’d been low on baby supplies before her paycheck came in and she was concerned about running out before she could afford to restock.

Elain was embarrassed to admit that she was counting diapers that second week, hoping she’d have enough to get her through to payday. But then a box of diapers appeared in her bedroom when she returned home from work and she wasn’t dumb enough to not know that Azriel had caught on to her counting and gone out to buy her a pack. They weren’t even the low-cost ones, but one of the major brands that cost twice as much. She was pretty sure he could hear her crying when she found them, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did she.

But she did write him a thank you on a sticky note and stuck it next to a plate of steaming cinnamon rolls before leaving for work the next morning. And when she got home, only a single cinnamon roll was left with a new sticky note attached. Her name in his handwriting was scrawled on the yellow sheet.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!

May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?

I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3

-🖋️

stars above your skin

oh 🖋 we're really in it now

how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.

so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem

in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!

this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!

here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title

by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy

tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company

cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)

⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?

author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 

After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 

When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 

Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 

It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 

You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 

But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 

You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 

A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 

That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.

You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 

You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.

Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.

Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 

“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”

And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!

It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.

But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.

The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 

Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.

This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.

IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.

READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?

IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 

READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 

IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 

READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.

IKE: They’re like Bookdren.

READER: Or Quillworms.

IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.

READER: www

IKE: www

Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.

But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.

He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.

The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 

You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.

A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.

That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.

The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”

Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”

Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 

At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”

Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”

Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”

“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”

“You said it though!”

Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 

But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.

“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”

Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.

“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.

She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”

Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”

“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”

“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”

“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”

“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”

“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”

The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”

“We know.”

“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”

“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”

Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”

“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. “But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”

“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”

“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”

She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 

Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”

“That’s the truth. Happy?”

“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”

“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 

“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“

“Don’t tell Reader that!”

“Tell me what?” 

“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”

Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”

“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”

“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”

“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”

“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”

Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”

 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 

“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”

“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”

“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”

“No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”

“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”

“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”

“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”

“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”

“Well, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 

You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 

Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”

You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.

“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.

“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”

Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 

When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.

…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.

You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 

Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 

Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.

You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 

You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”

Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.

“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 

As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.

You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”

As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”

The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 

gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 

messXed-up!: ike!!

lunasmortas: what about ike?

A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”

You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:

Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!

You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.

Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.

His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.

Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now

Ike Eveland: Are you okay?

You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 

With your heart still in your throat, you respond.

Me: uuuuuuugh i guess

Me: the game is really scary

Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭

Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |

Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?

Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |

Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol

Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!

Ike Eveland started a voice call.

“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”

You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 

 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”

Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”

“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”

“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”

“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”

“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”

“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”

You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”

He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”

“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”

You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”

But you still press Return To Game.

And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 

You slam a pillow over your face and groan.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk

“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍

It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 

“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”

Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 

You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.

By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 

Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.

Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.

Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  

The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.

Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 

Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.

They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.

You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.

She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”

It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.

Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 

Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.

Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 

“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”

“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”

Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”

“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”

“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”

“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”

Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”

“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”

“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.

Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”

The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.

Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 

While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 

Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.

You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!

Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 

Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.

Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.

It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 

But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 

The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.

Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 

The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.

You just want to stay here, unresisted.

Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.

Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 

No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 

The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.

You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.

Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 

“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 

“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”

Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”

Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.

Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 

Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)

Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |

Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA

Alban Knox: AASDFSDF

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙

Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS

Aia Amare: I AM

Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 

Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |

Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 

Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US

Me: we are not cuddling

Alban Knox: YOU ARE

Aia Amare: YOU ARE

Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |

Me: mika wth you too? 😭 

Mika Melatika: image.png

Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background

Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized

Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |

Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!

Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~

Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 

You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.

“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”

Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 

“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”

Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”

“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 

“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”

You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”

“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.

What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?

“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 

She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”

“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”

Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.

“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”

“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.

“Got any feelings about it?”

“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”

“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”

“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 

Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 

“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”

When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”

He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?

You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”

“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 

Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”

You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 

Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”

While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”

And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 

The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 

Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 

Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 

All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 

You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 

It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 

You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 

“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”

A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 

“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”

Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 

The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 

There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”

You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?

“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”

“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”

“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”

It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 

“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”

“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”

“Thanks, Vox.”

“Now get in here.”

You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”

“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”

“I just wanted a hug!”

You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.

“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”

“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”

“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”

Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.

You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”

Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”

Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“

Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”

You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”

“You got me,” Vox says. 

“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”

“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 

“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”

“No,” you lie.

“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”

Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”

“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”

Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 

Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  

“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”

“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.

She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”

And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 

Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 

You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”

Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”

“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 

Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 

“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”

Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”

“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”

“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”

“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”

Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 

Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”

You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 

But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.

Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”

A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 

This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 

“I do love you,” you say. 

It just feels right to say. 

Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 

Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Just that?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”

“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”

“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”

Neither of you say anything. 

This was a bad idea. 

You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 

“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”

Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”

He drops your hand and turns away. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”

“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”

You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.

Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?

You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 

“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”

You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”

The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.

What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.

“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Another groan.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”

You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”

“It’d be nice…”

Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 

“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”

“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.

You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”

“I really hate admitting you’re right.”

“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”

Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.

But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”

“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”

Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”

“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”

Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”

“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 

“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”

“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”

“I know. I can’t believe it.”

Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”

You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”

“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”

“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”

“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”

You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.

“You really think so?” You quietly ask.

Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.

Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”

She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 

You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”

Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”

“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”

“What?”

“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”

“Hey!”

“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”

Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”

“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”

Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”

Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”

“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 

That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.

The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.

Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 

You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”

Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”

“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”

She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”

Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”

“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”

You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 

“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”

Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.

You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”

“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”

“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”

“What do you mean, ‘up for this?’”

“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”

“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”

“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”

“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.

“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”

Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.

When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.

Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 

Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 

So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 

That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 

She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Thanks. Is Reader here?”

Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 

Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”

“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”

“I don’t know, what’s it about—“

“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”

“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”

Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”

You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 

“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”

The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 

Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”

You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.

No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 

“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 

Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”

Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 

You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”

“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”

“Slow down. What are you even saying?”

“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”

“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”

“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”

“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“No, that’s not it either! I—“

Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”

You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”

The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 

You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 

You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.

Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.

But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.

The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.

Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.

He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.

It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.

So you reach out instead.

Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.

But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.

“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”

Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 

“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”

Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 

Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”

“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 

You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.

“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”

Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”

“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”

Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 

Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”

Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.

“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”

He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”

“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”

The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?

Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”

You close your eyes.

And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 

Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.

Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.

There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.

But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.

Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.

When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”

Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Starting soon…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 

Kaidororero: welcome back ike!

Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙

A normal broom: HI IKE

lunasmortas: 💙💙💙

viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:

Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 

He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 

juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?

Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG

lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:

Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL

Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 

Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”

Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 

“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?

“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”

Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!

sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙

haabinae: :_tskr:

Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣

A normal broom: what did you sing?

Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”

lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙

gatamiizuus: ayo?

Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:

haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:

Thornmy: SO COOL 💙

“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”

K. K. Soda: ooooo

Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr

asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?

deeboorgur: HI ALBAN

Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:

“I’m getting there, Alban!” 

Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 

But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”

And the chat explodes. 

Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET

asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR

gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER

ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED

“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”

gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE

Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕

ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN

Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW

The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.

“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”

Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”

ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️

K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD

nroneo: :_heart:

A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 

Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!

“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”

His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”

The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!

“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”

Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 

He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 

“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 

Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 

He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.

“Reader…”

The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!

“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”

ystariya: i love reader

Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER

acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙

“Aaah!”

Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO

Johnclone: Hello Reader!

Y A M: OMG

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!

Festersk: LMAO

Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”

Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 

haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:

juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment

Thornmy: AWWW

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord

A normal broom: Oh?

“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.

Reader: because you were talking about cafes

Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!

It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 

Reader: ahh you remembered! 

Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me

Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you

Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-

Me: You’re really pretty in this one!

Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |

Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE

Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD

Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC

Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 

Me: Akaslwdnja

Me: Thank you 😭

Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food

Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?

Reader: just refilled my bottle

Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!

And before he can overthink it, in the moment—

Me: I love you!

His sights are set on his second monitor.

Reader is typing…

Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 

Reader: fdsjdfkl.

Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.

Reader: i love you too, ike

Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.

His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.

He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.

Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after

Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |

It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 

His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.

“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”

The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.

Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 

“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”

A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world

The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊commentary ↣

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[villainofmyownstory]

Zultanite

Part I - Gravity

AO3

pairing: Poly 141 x plus size fem!reader

summary: After inheriting jewelry from your dearest grandmother and one visit to a fortune teller. Your life is changing. Not once, not twice… but four times.

tags: Polyamory × Poly 141 × Strangers to Lovers × Stranger Sex × Polyamorous Task Force 141 (Call of Duty) × Smut × Oral Sex × Eventual Romance

a/n: Today I heard the song Gravity by Ralph, which inspired me to write this story. Each part will feature a different member of TF141.

Parts of the song lyrics are in italics.

Let me know what you think, I'm still learning how to write smut.

English is not my first language, so probably many things are poorly described and the vocabulary is very simple. If you see any mistakes - let me know!

✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠

Part I - Gravity

Kyle ”Gaz” Garrick

You are sitting in a small, narrow corridor, surrounded by many strange objects. Your heart is beating fast. You feel uneasy. The walls are colorful, trinkets, colorful lamps and curtains hang from the ceilings.

There is a sweet, heavy but pleasant scent in the air.

You only came here because your friend got an unusual gift from someone for her birthday. A rather peculiar one. A visit to a fortune teller.

You don't believe in such things, you are a rather down-to-earth woman. No fairies, princesses, wizards, unicorns or magical powers of objects. Pure science. Logic.

But you'll do anything for your friends.

You are snapped out of these ponderings by a voice from the side. Your girlfriend's more impatient and curious about the whole aura around the place.

“Thursday: cinnamon, musk, sage.... Interesting, maybe we should come another day. Oh! For example, on Sundays the smell of lemon. Do you know what it's good for?”

You didn't even have time to open your mouth to answer that of course you don't know what lemon is good for. For... a cold?

“Welcome, fairy Avery is expecting another visitor.”

You get up, but the person standing by the door tells you to wait. One person may be in the room with the fairy so as not to disturb her aura.

Or something else.

You sit back in your chair and look around the room out of boredom, since there isn't even a signal on your phone here. Finally, you glance at the flyer your friend was looking at a moment ago. Without delving into it, you simply flip through it quickly.

'Frankincense not only smells beautiful, but also has magical powers. Some intensify love, others intuition, there are also those that protect against evil powers...

Numerological matching ...

Venus Prophecy ...

If you want to know what fate has prepared for you and check what awaits you in the near future ... ask the magic ball ...

Tarot Celtic Cross

Amulets and talismans ...'

“That's interesting...”

You whisper under your breath as you see a photo of a confusingly similar stone. The kind you just had around your neck.

You had inherited the necklace from your grandmother, as well as to the pair, earrings and a ring. But in accordance with your grandmother's request, you wore the necklace every day since the day you received it.

Since yesterday being precise. Only yesterday someone from the family in your grandmother's long-abandoned house, found the lost box. With a letter and things for you.

When your friend with a smile on her lips comes out of the fortune teller's room, you want to get out of this place as soon as possible. You did not come here for any divination, tarot, palm reading.

However, the voice again invites another person, and apart from the two of you, there is no one in the hallway.

Slightly pushed by the girl you go into the room.

“I've been waiting a long time for you”.

When the door slams behind you the room falls into semi-darkness. The only sources of light are candles arranged in places.

You approach the most illuminated spot, a small round table in the middle of the room.

A small figure sits on the opposite side and holds one hand over a glass sphere.

If you're wondering what the fairy looked like. Yes, just what you think.

Her face hidden in a storm of loose hair, colorful wide clothes, a mass of necklaces, beads, talismans and rings.

It's hard to tell her age, but judging by her voice, she may already be in her midlife years.

“At me?”

You ask finally approaching the table.

“Sit down, and don't ask questions. The sphere has already told me everything... with the rest, you know very well what awaits you again...”

Sitting down on the chair closely watching the woman, you understand nothing of what she says. Maybe there's really no point in asking her anything, as you won't believe it anyway. Let her say what she has to say, and quickly leave this strange place.

“Four. That's your number, definitely. A strong, strong four. Unbreakable.

The same thing awaits you...yes, but this time it will be ..more intense, more interesting, so... complete. “

In the room as if the wind blew, many candles go out, and your skin went through shivers.

The woman pays no attention to this and continues

“Only this time be guided by your heart, okay? It will be a happy and joyful time, use it. And don't regret anything. Just remember, choose with your heart. Not with the mind.”

With her last word, the room goes dark. You sit slightly puzzled and bewildered.

What actually happened?

Having, once again in this peculiar place, no time to ask questions. The door behind you opens and again that mysterious voice informs you that the visit is over.

Kyle was the first one.

Kyle was the right one.

Kyle.

He just was.

Didn't think I was ready for love again.

Saturday, you walk ahead. Since the morning, you felt a great need to just get out of the apartment, this small cramped place. Claustrophobic.

Sometimes you have days like this, to go out without looking back. To leave everything behind and go. Walk, just simply walk, step by step. Until your legs start to hurt. Or until it gets dark.

Sunk in your thoughts you reach quite far, from home. Your walk has been going on for a good three hours. It has started to rain. You think a little bit and you hide under the canopy of one of the nearest buildings.

Will you catch me if I float?

Glad that you didn't get too wet, on the other hand you curse yourself in your mind. You didn't even take your phone with you, you'll have to wait until it stops raining.

Looking up you sadly conclude that, unfortunately, it doesn't look like the weather is going to change any time soon.

There aren't even any people around, no pedestrians. No one.

Minutes pass, long boring ones.

Finally you hear the sound of an engine, a car approaching at high speed. You think maybe it's a taxi, you step out from under the canopy and at that moment the car drives past you.

Splashing you.

“Fuck! Are you kidding me?”

Angrily you wipe your wet face to see anything. The car has unfortunately already disappeared around the corner, so you weren't even supposed to see what the car was. Even, you couldn't see its color.

You stand like this, on the sidewalk, not caring that the rain is falling on you. You are soaked. Even your hair is wet and stuck to your face. Just like your clothes, they have become heavy and cold. It's like someone threw you into a pool with your clothes on.

I think you even have wet panties.

“Just great!”

You mumble irritably, feeling a lump in your throat. You don't want to cry, but you feel terrible. Not only physically. But somehow mentally, too.

This situation reminds you of the humiliation you experienced because of your physical appearance in the past, at school.

Trying to at least drain the water from your hair and somehow tie it up or braid it. So it doesn't bother you, you don't pay attention that a car has stopped next to you.

Cause I feel gravity, gravity, gravity Pulling you to me, you to me, you to me

“Excuse me? Perhaps, I can somehow...help you?”

A warm and concerned voice gets your attention. You raise your head and freeze.

A few steps in front of you there is a large dark car, a man is looking at you from the open window.

Very handsome. Young. Definitely not from your small town. Probably some sort of passerby.

“Can I help you somehow, ma'am?”

Laughing lightly, he repeats the question. His voice pleasant, like a spring wind, like a meadow full of flowers, like warm tea with honey and raspberries.

Finally you shake it off, and say without thinking much about it.

“Actually, yes.”

Maybe you shouldn't get into the car of a complete stranger, but there's something that tells you to agree, to get in, to finally go home.

You're terribly wet and cold.

You quickly get into the passenger seat fastening your seat belt and giving your address.

You introduce yourself, gently squeezing the man's hand. His hand, despite several scars and hard skin, is warm and very welcoming to you.

It seems the two of you hold hands a few moments longer than the usual greeting should last.

Fixing your hair behind your ear, you smile slightly at the man and slowly let go of his hand. However, despite this, his gaze does not leave your face.

“I'm Kyle...”

The man finally says, turning on the car's engine and slowly moving towards your house.

No oxygen up here Must be gravity, gravity

The drive passes undeniably quickly, the streets at this hour and considering the weather are unusually empty.

You don't exchange many sentences, typically pleasantries. He's here on business, you've lived here all your life.

He can't talk about work, but it's something related to ''safety.''

You, on the other hand, could talk about your work for hours, but you don't want to bore him with scientific babble.

He, when speaking, gesticulates, speaks confidently and laughs loudly.

You, on the other hand, speak quietly, smiling gently. Intimidated.

Actually, you don't know how it happens that a man is already standing in front of your door. He is so charming, kind, friendly. That you agree without thinking as he offers to go to your house under his umbrella.

Truly charming he is.

Putting the key in the lock and opening the door, you turn towards the man

“Maybe as a thank you... I didn't do any shopping, but maybe.... Perhaps you'd like some tea and cake?”

“Sure, a cup of tea is even necessary in this weather.”

He laughs loudly again smiling widely.

You hastily put water in the kettle for tea, gently shivering. Those damn clothes stuck to your skin like wet cold scales.

You quickly prepare cups and plates of cookies. As you turn around to go and finally change into something thick, warm and comfortable. You impetuously bump into the man who inaudibly entered the kitchen and stood a step behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You mumbled embarrassedly. Surely that collision with your weight must have hurt him.

Kyle smiles at you while gently tilting his head

“You're soaked.”

Saying this, he brushes away unruly strands of hair from your face.

You swallow your drool loudly.

Why has the kitchen suddenly become so stuffy? Was it the boiling water that raised the temperature in the small apartment so dramatically?

Oh God no.

It was him.

Kyle.

Grabbing the back of your head, he draws your face to his, and gently kisses you. At first he gently brushes his lips against your lips. But after a while he intensifies the kiss, more greedily. Possessively. With one hand he gently massages the scalp of your head as his other hand wandered over your body, gently squeezing your breasts. Then he lasciviously strokes your belly. His hand slowly makes its way to the line of your pants.

The man between kisses slowly brings out word by word

“Sorry, I never. This is my first time. i mean, never so fast. but, fuck “.

Despite the tangle of words, you understand what he means.

No one ever wanted you the moment they met you. Never has anyone wanted you so quickly.

Should I let go? (Ooh, let go) And lose control? (Ooh, lose control)

In response, you entwine your arms around his neck wanting to show him not to go anywhere. To keep his body even closer to yours.

His hand easily makes its way under the material of your jeans and panties gently poking his fingers into the warm, plush of your lower abdomen. He gently teases the tender skin under your pants with his fingers.

You silently moan involuntarily, his lips slowly directing gentle kisses to your neck.

He is sure to leave marks on you.

As he gently sucks the thin skin close to your pulse, you stiffen, your body is pierced by pleasant shivers.

“Where is the bedroom?”

After these words, you wave your hand roughly in the direction of your small room with a bed and a tiny closet.

When the man finally pulls away from you, with a quiet pop  his lips finally pulled away from your skin.

His hand continued to rest in your panties as he gently and calmly rubbed the area around your clit with his fingertips.

Keeping the last remnants of common sense, you turn off the kitchen to avoid burning the kettle with boiling water.

Tea was no longer needed.

As you and Kyle land on the bed, you on your back, the man slowly kisses every part of your body with precision.

Wet clothes with each passing moment land with a slight sloshing on the floor. You don't even worry about the mess you both leave behind.

Lose my breath in your atmosphere No oxygen up here

Once you're completely naked, Kylie kneels in front of you. Stroking your thick thighs, slowly running his fingers over your fat, and you squirm as the cool air hits your wet cunt.

“Show off your beauty, don't hide.”

He opens your legs, not taking his eyes off your face.

Slightly embarrassed, you bury your head in your hands, your elbows covering your exposed breasts. Your large nipples heap under the change of temperature after removing your wet clothes.

“Baby!”

Kyle says more firmly, gripping your inner thigh cheeks.

“I need to warm you up, you're so soaked.”

After these words, he dives between your legs and, kissing your thighs, moves closer to your center.

You feel his warm breath teasing your sensitive skin.

“You’re so beautiful and wet...”

He mumbles, and after these words. You feel his tongue teasing the area around your rear hole, with a long stroke he directs his tongue upward.

His tongue is rough and hot as he focuses on your clit. First teasing the hard little button with his tongue slowly circling it. Then he starts sucking on it.

“That's it, baby. Just mine.”

You moan louder. His words, the slow play of his mouth and tongue between your wet folds making you feel the growing pleasure in your lower abdomen.

It's been so long, no, never before has anyone taken care of you like this. With such adoration and worship.

“Kyle... I think I'm ~oh!”

Your breathing speeds up

“Come on baby. I'll make you cum with my tongue”

His mouth gently sucks your clitoris, and he caresses your swollen bud with his tongue, speeding up the fun of it.

You reach your first orgasm of the evening. Your legs involuntarily shaking, your rippling belly and breasts gently bouncing during this sudden sensation.

“Honey, are you ready for more?

Kyle rises slowly, kissing your cunt, lifting your legs, kissing your lower abdomen around your breasts and sternum. Leaving wet marks on your skin.

He stops at the valley of your breasts, gently tilting his head and squinting his eyes.

“Um... the stone in the necklace has changed color, interesting.”

He smiles and leans in, kissing you on the lips.

As you kiss him, you can feel your juices mixed with his saliva.

“Ready?”

Kyle catches you below the knees, bringing your legs closer to his chest, one hand grasping his erect member.

Just now you stare intently at his penis. His tip is an dark pink, dripping rich pearls of precum, and fuck, it's thick. It's not long, rather a standard size, but the thickness surprised you.

With amusement, the man looks at you, leaning over you again with one hand resting next to your head. With his other hand, he pumps his protruding shaft with quick, powerful movements.

His tip teases your wet and very tender folds.

“Babe, I need you. Right now, next time... I'll take care of you longer, better, all right?”

You nod. Completely ignoring his words.

He slowly slides into your warm and wet hole. Its walls, although invitingly spread around his cock, tenderly and tightly squeeze him.

Both of you are moaning loudly with pleasure.

He embeds his thick cock deep inside you and starts slowly rocking back and forth.

Rhythmic obscene wet sounds, body slapping against body and increasingly loud sighs fill the room. Kyle grabs your wrists and lifts your arms above your head, crossing and holding them tightly like this. Entering you with more force.

He moves faster and faster inside you. You wrap your legs around his hips so that, thanks to the new angle, he enters you fuller, harder. He moves even faster.

He kisses you again, this time with more force, his tongue forces itself deep into your mouth so that his teeth collide with yours.

His movements are less rhythmic now, but deeper, he places kisses on your cheek, neck, caressing your collarbone.

You reach another orgasm at the same time as you feel the man tighten his body and eat into your neck. His warm cum gushing into your pussy, which, under the influence of another peak, squeezes even more around his throbbing member. His cum fills you and gently mixed with your juices flows out of you, running down your folds

You lie like this entwined for many more moments, gasping loudly, his breath teasing your sweaty, tender neck skin.

Kyle, after taking a few deeper breaths, finally says raising his head and looking into your eyes

"The stone in your necklace, is now canary yellow”

Tossing and turning, I can't get you off my mind Thinking about what you did to me last night Am I in trouble? Should I hit the breaks? Being with you is my favorite mistake

[sugar-omi]

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY N ITS FINALLY HERE WOOOO!!! i'm so insane abt this idea that you can prbly expect more of it...

DAY EIGHT — NEIGHBORS-WITH-BENEFITS

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, gn + bottom reader, between step 3-4?, outdoor/beach sex, multiple choice dialogue, use of toys, bonus funny bit at the end <333

synopsis : you and cove don't get along like your parents hoped. at least.. not as friends.

you and cove can be around each other when hanging out with your friends or family, and exchange the occasional neighborly wave. but other than that, you can't stand each other.

but somehow you end up like this, time and time again.

with both of you exchanging horny gazes from across the room, suggestive or obscene gestures (sucking that popsicle so lewdly rewarded you, well cove actually, the best throat fucking of your life.)

or sneaking out to the others room because one of you sent a text to open the window or a nude...

and before you can think twice, cove is pushing you up against the nearest surface and kissing you breathless…

even though you can't stand how selfish he is half the time, and how he doesn't think things through and says and does whatever he wants… well you must not hate it that much since you've nearly ripped his shirt in half trying to get him naked.

or like that time you begrudgingly went with him to his mom's house to pick up his things, and fucked him in the car behind the gas station.

yeah, you definitely don't like him. you just.. like him sometimes. although sometimes, seems to be more like most of the time.. all the time…

but that's tomorrow y/n's problem. right now you're trying to keep your composure in front of all these people.

cove comes up behind you, pretending to grab some snacks from the table. but in actuality, he's whispering in your ear, his hand hot on your hip.

"follow me in 5 minutes…"

you tense, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. you nod, trying not to spill your drink.

then he disappears, fading into the crowd.

fuck, this man has ruined you.

that was the longest 5 minutes of your life, and you almost missed cove disappearing behind the lifeguard shed.

finally breaking free from your sister and cousin trying to keep you on the dance floor, you rush up the beach and try to find cove.

it's a bit hard since it's so dark out here, and you have to stop yourself from shouting when someone yanks you into a dark corner.

"shh, it's just me.." cove whispers.

you go to scold him for scaring you, but he pushes you up against the side of the building, his hips grinding into yours.

your head spins, you can feel his bulge through his shorts and his lips slot with yours, his tongue taking control of your mouth.

resigning that you can't tell him off, you bite his tongue, making him hiss and pull away.

"ow- what was that f-" cove's compliant is interrupted by your lips on his neck, your hands moving from his shoulders to grab his butt.

he groans, panting as you pull down his collar to leave more marks. "shit… don't.. leave marks…" he gasps out, his hands trembling on your shoulders.

you pull off his neck, a nice red hickey blooming on his collarbone. "why? y'know you left marks on me last time."

you got the most embarrassing talk of your life when your mom's saw the hickey under your jaw. keeping the secret of who left it didn't help either…

cove gasps, his breath shaking. "i-i told you i was sorry…"

you roll your eyes, tugging his tank top off. you don't know why he was wearing it anyway, you're at a beach party and cove never covers up, no matter how cold he is.

"shut up and fuck me before someone comes looking for us."

cove doesn't say anything, tugging down your shorts and underwear.

"fuck.. you actually wore it." cove says in disbelief, his fingers brushing against the vibrator inside you that he asked you to wear so he could control it, since you barred sex after the hickey scandal.

"well duh, didn't you get my text?" you ask, referring to the photo you sent him.

cove flushes, thinking. ".. i didn't charge my phone."

you roll your eyes, "you're so spacey. stop gaping, you asked for it so take it out and fuck me, holden."

cove grits his teeth, your eyes zeroing in on the veins in his hand and forearm.

he's too sexy for his own good…

cove's lips are on you before you can come back to reality, the kiss is messy and wet, your moans muffled by his eager lips.

begrudgingly, he breaks up the kiss and flips you around, falling to his knees and spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your hole, pulling out the vibe.

he can't help himself from leaning forward and licking at your hole, unable to resist how it clenched around nothing.

"ahh.." you breath out, pushing your ass back on cove's face.

fuck, as much as you'd love him to eat you out / rim you, you don't have time.

"hu-ohhh fuck.." his tongue dips into your hole, trying to scoop out your insides with his tongue. "hurry.. up!" you bark.

cove detaches himself from your sex, taking a condom from his pants pocket and hurrying to unbutton his shorts and rolling it over his dick.

he hisses, biting his lip.

he tried to get off by himself since you still sent him the occasional nude or dirty text. he even looked back at some of his favorite photos of you… but it's just not the same now that he's had you under him.

cove lines himself with your entrance, sinking easily into your wet insides.

you slap a hand over your mouth, muffins the loud moan about to burst from your throat.

cove's cock hits the deepest spot inside you, the vein on the underside of his dick pulsing and rubbing against a tender spot inside you.

your eyes roll back, and you close them, panting I to your hand.

even though you tried to get off by yourself. it wasn't the same as cove's dick. your fingers just didn't feel the same and the couple of toys you had hidden in your room aren't the same as his dick or when he controls your vibe…

cove's head rests between your shoulder blades, panting as he tries to wait for you to adjust.

you're so tight and warm around him, and he can't tell if it's because you haven't done it in awhile or because he missed this.

you lick your lips, swallowing. "move… c'mon.."

cove laughs breathily, strained if anything. "you're desperate…"

you bark at him, "you're the one who put it in in one thrust!"

cove doesn't say anything, holding your hips and removing his sweaty forehead from your back to watch his dick pull out your clingy hole, enjoying the way your hole wraps around him so nicely, almost not wanting to let go.

"yeah yeah…" he says dismissively, ignoring anymore bickering you're trying to start.

"hey, are you listeni-nnng!" your question turns into a moan. cove's tip slamming right against your g-spot.

cove huffs through his nose. the sound of skin against skin is too loud, someone would definitely try and find what's making that sound..

he wraps his arms around your waist, his lips against your shoulder, planting light kisses and nips but not leaving marks.

you gasp, sucking in air.

cove's thrust are more like a dog humping your leg, and as much as you want to make fun of him for being a horny bastard, you can't deny that you love how deep he is, and how he's never too far away.

"whaa- what are you…" you can't even finish the words out. his tip grinding against your willing insides and his hand coming around to stroke your dick / clit has you breathless.

"someone will hear.. just shhh." cove shushes you, tilting your head to face him, capturing your moans in a kiss, pushing them down with his tongue.

you feel irritated by the pressure building in your stomach. damn cove and damn him for making you be able to finish so quickly from doing half of nothing.

"are you..?" cove mutters, not straying too far from your lips.

you hum, trying to nod.

"me too…" and it's your turn to laugh. cove glares at you, a playful grin on his face and narrowed eyes. "what's so funny, huh?"

you press your lips together to stop from moaning, cove's hips grinding into yours. "cause- you're.. you're such a minute man…"

cove pulls you against his chest, your nails scraping down the side of the building. "me? i'm bot the one who came just from putting it in."

you bristle, "that's! that's because you were, ahh-"

cove mocks you, fake stuttering and he has a wicked smirk on his stupid face. "what? i finger blasted you and ate you out so good you came just from the tip? it was that good, huh."

you're so irritated by that damn smile on his face and his smug voice, but you can't deny it.

your parents went on a day trip and with your sister off at college, and cove's dad at the shop… it was too perfect to not have cove over.

and yeah, maybe you think about that day a lot but what does he know?

you go to bite back, you don't even know what you could say since he already exposed and roasted you with one comment.

but that dies on your tongue before the words can even come to you, cove's pace on your sex picking up, wanting you to finish first.

"that's it… just cum for me." cove groans, babbling a bit since you're not listening, one of your hands holding his scared forearm for support, your fingers and hole quivering as you near your end.

you hiss out his name, your legs shaking and if it wasn't for cove holding you up, you would fall into the sand.

cove groans, finishing soon after you, his fingers holding onto your waist tightly.

you both enjoy the afterglow for a bit before cove removes himself from your sweaty body, carefully pulling himself out from your hole.

cove kindly helps you get dressed, pulling your bottoms up your quivering legs.

but not before stuffing your vibrator back inside you and giving your butt a couple nice smacks with his fingers.

you scold him but he just laughs, stealing a kiss before he starts to part. "want me to drive you home?"

your eyes switch between his lips and his eyes before you shake your head. "gotta get back to liz an-"

"there you are!"

you both startle, whipping around to see your cousin running towards you, her and liz locked arm and arm. derek trails behind them, chatting animatedly with terri.

they're giggling, a bit tipsy. well, maybe more than a bit…

"what're you doing here?" lee asks in a sing-song voice, almost knowing. but you roll your eyes, she's more drunk than anything.

"nothing. cove was just wondering if i needed help pulling you off that poor guy you were latched onto earlier." you smirk, joking with your cousin.

"hey! jokes on you, i got his number!" lee announces triumphantly.

terri throws her arm around you and cove, startling you both again. "hey! let's stop and get burgers- liz's treat!"

"hey, why do i have to pay?"

terri laughs, dragging you and cove to the car with her hands locked with yours and cove's, swinging together. "cause you're the oldest, duh!"

cove goes to the kitchen, rubbing his hair with a towel.

he mindlessly floats about the kitchen, snagging a bit of everything his dad made.

he's humming happily, pouring a nice glass of juice in his favorite glass and turns with his winnings in hand.

"mm- oh!" cove startles, almost dropping his plate.

his dad was standing behind him, a stern look on his face and arms tightly folded. cove doesn't miss his fingers flexing and gripping his bicep.

"uh.. dad?"

"cove. what are those marks on your back." it's not a question, per say.. he knows what they are. he's just seeing if cove knows.

he swallows, cursing his carelessness that costed you get revenge.

"um.. dad, wait. i- i can explain?" cove shrugs, his lip curling up awkwardly. there is no explaining this away…

before either of them can say something, cove's phone beeps from its place on the counter, finally charged up.

both of them look at the phone and cove gulps, instinctively looking at his dad for his reaction…

Y/N: yesterday 6:37pm *see attachment* find me beforehand for the remote 💋

Y/N: today 1:49am *see attachment* i guess you can have your privileges back. cya soon holden;)

oh yeah.. you're both fucked.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I'm about to bleach and dye my hair for the millionth time and it got me thinking.

How about a fanfic of either one of the moon boys coming home and just seeing his s/o in the bathroom just casually dying their hair some bright color and just like "Hi! :D"

Ahhh, I love this! I dye my hair at home a lot (bright colours) and I always get it on myself.

Vivid

Marc Spector X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: mentions of reader getting hair dye on themselves (this could imply that the reader's hair is not short, however I find that when dyeing my hair the main problem comes from me touching everything with my gloves that has hair dye on them. But I just wanted to put that here just in case.) sleepy Marc, typos, rail road sentences Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 468

_______________________________________

Marc was shattered. Really to collapse into sleep at any given moment. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tired. Every step was heavy as if his bones had turned to lead, aching and straining at his muscle with even the smallest movement. 

Even the dirty London pavement, with its litter and grime and old chewing gum, seemed a lot more comfortable than staying upright anymore. 

Honestly, he was surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the tube, or the bus, or just walking back to the flat. Or the lift, or while putting his keys in the front door. 

He sighed as he got in, just managing to remember to not leave the keys in the lock, and fumbled to get his shoes off. He nearly fell over, twice. 

The plan had been to collapse in bed (or on the sofa, as that was closer) but a faint smell of ammonia hit him the second he had taken two steps inside. 

Marc frowned. “Babe?” 

“In here!” You called from the bathroom. 

He padded across the room, his feet thumping across the floorboards. He pushed the door open gently.

You turned to look at him and grinned. 

In the best possible way, you were a state and you knew it. Dyeing your hair was always a bit of a saga, and no matter how hard you tried you always managed to get bleach or the bright coloured dye on your top, so you had forgone it, leaving you completely naked from the waist up. 

Despite your gloves, a small tear on the left hand meant that most of your palm and fingers were stained. Luckily only with the colourful vegetable dye you had just finished applying. 

You also had some dye around the back of your neck and a swiped smudge on your collar bone. 

“Hi!” You said happily, pulling a purposefully silly face.

Marc grinned and laughed softly. “You look colourful.”

“Thank you.” You held out your arms in a variety of comedic positions and poses and he chuckled again. There was never a better sound than Marc laughing but knowing that you had caused that happiness was simply the greatest feeling. 

“You look great.” He moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek. 

You giggle as he nuzzles close. “Careful, I’ll get dye on you.”

“I just dyed in your arms today.” Marc sank sleepily and purposefully terribly to the tune of ‘Died in your Arms’. 

You laugh again, the action sending little shaking through his body that was wonderfully soothing. He could fall asleep here, standing up but safe with you. 

“I don’t mind,” he motioned his hand vaguely in the air. “About the dye, getting it on me. Whatever.” He kissed your neck and closed his eyes. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[wander-wren]

every once in a while i like to poke my head into "anti [x]" tags just to see what the other side thinks. recently i was looking through "anti ao3" and found a really funny post claiming that ao3 is not anticapitalist, but actually the Definition Of Capitalism, bc it relies on volunteer labor while supposedly having the money to pay a staff.

oh, honey.

but i am not going to make unsubstantiated claims on the internet, no, and this gives me an excuse to look at ao3's whole budget myself, which i've been meaning to do for a while. these numbers are taken from the 2022 budget post and budget spreadsheet.

ao3's total income for 2022, from the two donation drives, regular donations, donation matching programs, interest, and royalties was $1,012,543.42. less than $300 of that was from interest and royalties, so it's almost all donations. and that's a lot, right? surely an organization making a million dollars a year can afford to pay some staff, right?

well, let's look at expenses. first of all, they lose almost $37,000 to transaction fees right away. ao3 and fanlore (~$341k and ~$18k, respectively) take up the biggest chunks of the budget by far. that money pays for, to quote the 2022 budget post, "server expenses—both new purchases and ongoing colocation and maintenance—website performance monitoring tools, and various systems-related licenses."

in some years, otw also pays external contractors to perform audits for security issues, and for more servers to handle the growing userbase. servers are expensive as hell, guys. in 2022, new server costs alone were $203k.

each of their other programs only cost around $3,000 or less, and otw paid around $78k for fundraising and development. wait, how do you lose so much money on your fundraising?? from the 2022 budget post: "Our fundraising and development expenses consist of transaction fees charged by our third-party payment processors for each donation, thank-you gift purchases and shipping, and the tools used to host the OTW’s membership database and track communications with donors and potential donors."

then the otw paid an additional $74k in administration expenses, which covers "hosting for our website, trademarks, domains, insurance, tax filing, and annual financial statement audits, as well as communication, management, and accounting tools."

in case you weren't following all of that math, the total expenses for 2022 come out to $518,978.48. woah! that's a lot! but it's still only a little over half of their net revenue. weird. i wonder what they do with that extra $494k?

well, $400k of it goes to the reserves, which i'll get to in a second. the last $93k, near as i can tell, gets rolled over to the next year. i'll admit this part i'm a little unsure about, as it's not clear on the spreadsheet, but that's the only thing that makes sense.

the reserves, though are clear. the most recent post i could find on the otw site about it were in the board meeting minutes from april 2, 2022: "We’re holding about $1million in operating cash that is about twice the amount of our annual operating costs. There is another $1million in reserves due to highly successful fundraisers in the past. The current plan for the reserves is to hold the money for paid staff in the future. It’s been talked about before in the past and we’re still working out the details, but it’s a rather expensive undertaking that will result in large annual expenses in addition to the initial cost of implementation."

woah....they're PLANNING to have paid staff eventually! wild!

so let's assume, for easy numbers, that the otw currently has $1.5 million in reserves. before we even get to how to use that money, let's look at the issues with implementing paid staff:

deciding which positions are going to be paid, because it can't be all of them

deciding how much to pay them, bc minimum wage sure as hell isn't enough, and cost of living is different everywhere, and volunteers come from all over the world

hiring staff and implementing new systems/tools to handle things like payroll and accounting

making sure you continue to earn enough money both to pay all of the staff and have some in reserves for emergencies or leaner donation drives

probably even more stuff than that! i don't run a nonprofit, that's just what i can think of off the top of my head.

okay, okay, okay. for the sake of argument, let's assume there is a best-case scenario where the otw starts paying some staff tomorrow. how much should they be paid? i'm picking $15 an hour, since that's what we fought for the minimum wage to be. by now, it should be closer to $20 or $25, but i'm trying to give "ao3 is capitalism" the fairest shot it can get here, okay?

ideally, if someone is being paid to help run ao3, they shouldn't need a second job. every job should pay enough to live off of. and running a nonprofit is hard work that leads to a lot of burnout--two board members JUST resigned before their terms were up. what i'm saying is, i'm going to assume a paid otw staff is getting paid for 40 hours of work a week, minimum. that's $31,200.

at $400,000 per year, the otw can afford to pay 12 people. that's WITHOUT taking into account the new systems, tools, software, etc they would have to pay for, any kind of fees, etc, etc.

oh, and btw, if you're an american you're still making barely enough to survive in most places, AND you don't have universal healthcare, vision, or dental. want otw to give people insurance, too? the number of people they can pay goes down.

it's. not. possible.

a million dollars is a lot of money on the face of it, but once you realize how MUCH goes into running something like the otw, it goes away fast.

just for reference, wikipedia also has donation drives every year. wikipedia, as of 2021, has $86.8 million in cash reserves and $137.4 million in investments. sure, wikipedia and ao3 are very different entities, but that disparity is massive. and i should note that if you give $10 to wikipedia they don't give you voting rights, i'm just saying.

by the way, you may have noticed that i didn't mention legal costs at all here. isn't one of otw's big Things about how they do legal advocacy?

yes, it is. they have a whole page about that work. and i can't for the life of me find a source on otw's website (and i'm running out of time to write this post, i'll look harder later), but i am 90% sure i learned before that most, if not all, of otw's legal work/advice/etc is done pro bono. i've also seen an anti-ao3 person claim their legal budget is only $5k or so, but they didn't have a source. but keep in mind that if they don't have a legal budget, all the numbers above stay the same, and if they do, there is even less money available for paid staff.

you can criticize ao3 and the otw all you want! there are many valid reasons to criticize them, and i do not think they're perfect either. but if you're going to do so, you should at least make sure you can back up your claims, bc otherwise you just look silly.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Sweet Home Alabama Masterlist

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Linley Floyd), Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Linley Floyd)

Status: In-Progress

Last Updated: 01/27/2024

A/N: This story does not start explicit but does get there. Minors do not interact. This story is 18+. This story is for @cherrycola27, and @thedroneranger because their unending love for the movie is what prompted me to create this AU. This will hold mostly true to the movie, but I'm going to update parts of it which I've never really liked. I hope you all love it!

Cross-posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Summary: Linley Floyd left Pigeon Creek, Alabama and all she was, including the name she was born with, in the rear view mirror seven years ago when she moved to New York. When her boyfriend and she's sure, the love of her life, proposes, she finds herself right back in the place where everything began, Pigeon Creek, Alabama. She has to face down some old demons, and fix some broken relationships to get a divorce from her husband, all so she can marry the man she truly loves. What happens in Pigeon Creek after that proves that sometimes, home is where the heart is, even when you don't know it.

Characters

Jake Seresin

Linley Floyd a.k.a Linley Mitchell

Bobby Ray Floyd

Natasha Trace

Penny Benjamin (nee Seresin)

Amelia Benjamin

Pete Mitchell

Bradley Bradshaw

Carole Bradshaw

Mickey Garcia

Reuben Fitch

Beau Simpson

Lightning Never Strikes the Same Place Twice

Welcome to New York

Country Roads, Take Me Home

Home (Not So) Sweet Home

Love Conquers All (Supposedly)

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Decisions

This Is The End (Of What Used to Be)

Trouble's More Than A Word (It's A State Of Being)

Catfish and Dog Cemeteries

Roosters and Reenactment Day

Non-Sibi Sed Patriae

A Clean Slate

A Lawyer's Lament and Deep South Glass

Shot through the Heart, But You're to Blame (You Give Love A Bad Name)

Sweet Home Alabama

Epilogue - Home is Where the Heart Is

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