#and I’m genuinely choked up about it. it was hours ago I’m still here

[hella1975]

still thinking about ‘from rupert (not the bear)’

[jelliedink]

Little Revenge

Warnings: smut, cheating!, pet names, older man/younger woman, boss/employee, power dynamic Picture is not mine. Divider by @thecutestgrotto

“You’ve fucked your wife thinking about me before, haven’t you?”

Your boss, with whom you’ve been chatting for the past hour, nearly choked on his drink.

“Excuse me, but where did that come from?”

It wasn’t the smoothest delivery, but you just couldn’t think of a better way of introducing the topic and you were afraid of losing the courage to do so. You’ve been babysitting his daughters sporadically for almost 2 years now, as you did with many other children in your university campus’ neighborhood. Everything was fine until about 8 months ago, when his work schedule became flexible enough to allow him to always spend some time in the house most of the days you were there. Before this you dealt almost exclusively with his wife, meeting her at the start and the end of every shift. Since this change, though, Ian was the one you spoke the most to.

At first, you didn’t mind it. It was quite nice, actually. Ian was reliable, pleasant and seemed to genuinely care for you. When with you he was always trying to lift the mood, asking about how things were going in your life and offering advice. 

But then he seemed way too interested in you, and his wife, previously sweet and warm towards you, became increasingly harsher and nitpicky.

“I have a theory for what the real reason why Mrs Allen fired me is. When you started staying at home I didn’t think too much of it, but it became difficult to believe you were just being hospitable as you gradually increased the frequency in which you inquired me about my love life and found excuses to touch me in ways that would make your wife fire me on the spot if she saw.”

Ian’s charming face changed its expression from its typical amicable neutrality to a condescending look.

“Darling, I think we have a great misunderstanding here.”

Your heart started beating faster, the voice in your head that said you got it all wrong getting louder by the minute. But now there was nowhere to go but forward.

“Mr Allen, I’m not mad at you. I’m actually kind of flattered, you know? To have an attractive and successful man such as yourself look at me in that way. I’m mad because I can’t get other jobs in the neighborhood because, as told by some of the other nannies, Mrs Allen has been warning all the mothers about her shameless babysitter that appears to be trying to sleep with her husband.”

His face didn’t change.

“I’m sincerely sorry about that, and rest assured you’ll be compensated for the trouble my wife’s actions brought you, but I still can’t see how that led you to such an unusual question.”

“Are you really not going to drop the act?” His insistent denial made you so nervous you felt almost dizzy. What if you were making a fool of yourself? “That’s a shame, really, because I was looking forward to letting you know how the real thing feels.”

Upon hearing this last statement, Ian confusion and disbelief flashed through his face, breaking the mask for a moment. Then his eyes filled with amusement as he answered you.

“My dear, aren’t you something?”

He got up from where he was sitting to get closer to you, squatting down in front of your seat in order to bring his face to your level. His initial defensiveness seemed to almost disappear, curiosity replacing it as he questioned you, eyebrows raised: 

“Aren’t you afraid of the consequences in case you turn out to be incorrect?”

You were. But you also knew your reputation was already unsalvageable, so you didn’t see how it could get any worse.

“It’s not like anyone is going to believe me, so I have nothing to lose anymore, I thought I might as well try and get something positive out of this whole situation.”

He let out a hum of acknowledgement and stayed silent for a while, his eyes fixed on you while trying to decide if you were telling the truth or if it was some sort of elaborate joke. Seeing that he was not yet fully convinced, you decided to face his gaze and say something you thought would help him make a favorable decision.

“You know, I’ve only been with guys my age before and it has been really disappointing. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly hoping for you to show me what a real man feels like.”

Ian let out a loud, amused laugh at your flirting attempt. His lips were still curled when his hands touched your chin.

“And to think I’ve been chastising myself for feeling attracted to the young, innocent little thing I thought you were.” He let out a series of “tsk”, feigning disappointment at you. “I feel tempted to take up your offer, missy, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll do exactly as I say and, once we start, I’m not going to stop. So, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” You nodded almost immediately. “But I have a condition of my own, too.

His eyes filled with curiosity.

“Oh, do you, kitten? And what is it?”

“Fuck me in the master bedroom. I want to have the satisfaction of knowing your wife will be sleeping in the same bed you fucked me in.”

Your request caught him by surprise, making him look at you with a mix of disbelief and delight. 

“My, my, how did such a petty little devil make her way into my peaceful home? Alright, I can do that for you.” He closed the distance between your faces in a kiss, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees. “Up we go.”

You hid your face in the crook of his neck while he carried you, unsure of what to do next, until he laid you on the bed.

“Here we are, sweetheart. I must admit, I thought you were smarter than this.” The condescending tone came back while he gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. “Lucky me.”

He didn’t give you time to fully understand what he said before he kissed you firmly. It didn’t take long until you were straddling him, his hands traveling through your body, eventually finding their way under your dress. For a moment it felt like he was looking for something on your bare skin, until he broke the string of kisses and looked at you with a grin.

“Of course you’re not wearing underwear.”

“In case you needed more convincing.” You answered, suddenly self-conscious of that decision.

“So you were that determined to be my little whore today? What a naughty kitten we have here.”

He immediately started kissing down your neck while you clumsily palmed his abdomen through the polo shirt he was wearing. He took it off right after helping you get out of your dress, and then leaned back for a moment to admire your naked figure with hunger in his eyes.

“Oh, pretty, you look just right.” His hands ran through your upper body, eventually fondling your breasts. “The perfect little toy.”

His mouth joined your body once again, leaving kisses all around your collarbone and chest while your hands tugged lightly at his hair. You moved your hips, trying to find the perfect spot to grind on top of his clothed cock, and you felt him smile when he noticed what you were doing.

“So desperate, grinding on me like you were in heat. Let me see how needy you are.”

One of his hands traveled to your pussy, and he groaned the moment he felt how wet you were. Then he started alternating between slowly rubbing your clit and moving his fingers through the whole length of your cunt, parting your lips and teasing to enter you, only to slide back again. The whole time his eyes were glued on your face, watching your expressions change as he toyed with you. You were way too turned on to feel shy at his gaze.

“Ian, just fuck me already.”

“Of course you do, kitten. But first you’re going to put on a little show for me, ok?” He took his now soaked fingers back to your entrance. “Daddy’s going to curl his fingers up and you’re going to fuck yourself in them.”

“Haven’t you teased me enough already?” you whined, frustrated.

“Princess, you were the one who asked me to show you what it's like to be with a real man. You thought I’d just pound my dick into you mindlessly like the guys your age?” He brought his torso near you and nuzzled his face on your neck, speaking into your ears. “No, pretty. We’re going to be here for a while.” 

Then he leaned back again, curling his fingers as he said he would.

“Now be the good, obedient girl I know you are and fuck yourself on my hand, ok? Don’t make me ask again.”

You obeyed, placing your hands on his shoulders to support yourself while your hips moved up and down, his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt with ease from how slippery you were. 

“Ian…” You started, after a while, panting and almost breathless. “Please, I  need to ride you.”

“‘Need’ is a strong word, kitten. I’m having so much fun watching you act like a horny pet for me.”

“Please.”

“Shhhh…” He shushed you, stuffing your mouth with the same fingers you were riding. “You’re talking way too much for a pet. Be a good kitten and lick my hand clean.”

You sucked and licked all of your slick off his fingers, not breaking eye contact. When you finished he connected your lips again, this time with a kiss that seemed like he wanted to devour you.

“Such a tasty pussy. I’d eat it for hours if you weren’t so needy. Lay on your back for me.”

As you did so he finished undressing himself, hovering on top of you immediately after, one of his hands caressing your tights and propping you to lift it up to his waist.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want this time.” You let out a loud, obscene moan at the feeling of the head of his dick running across your cunt. “I’m going to fuck your pussy now, ok?” 

“Mhmmm.”

He forced all of his dick into you at once, groaning a low “fuck” when he bottomed out. His dick was not that long but the girth felt good. You dug your nails in his back as he started moving his hips, skillfully rolling them towards you while kissing you once more.

“If I knew that little warm cunt felt this good I’d have taken you sooner.” He muttered at your mouth, along with a string of swear words you never thought you would hear from his mouth. “God, listen how fucking wet you are.”

You couldn’t say anything at first, his rhythm leaving you breathless and unable to make any other noise other than pants and moans. But when your cunt adjusted to his size, you started pleading for him to go deeper.

When he heard you, he stopped for a moment to grab a pillow and place it under your lower back, wasting no time sliding back in when you found a good position. 

“Better now?”

“Fucking yes.”

It felt better for him too, and it didn’t take too long before his pace started to get frantic. Then you placed one of your hands on your clit and started rubbing it, moaning even louder at the added stimulation. He moved his lips to your ears and started praising you when he noticed this, saying how pretty you looked stuffed with him, how cute your moans were, how perfect your pussy felt. You felt your orgasm approaching even quicker. 

After you came your arms went limp, barely holding Ian as he came inside you. He then kissed you one last time before falling by your side, both of you catching their breaths. His arms pulled you closer to him, and you laid your head on his chest until he decided to break the silence.

“You are a diamond. You did so, so well”

“The best fuck you’ve had in months?”

He laughed loudly before giving you a peck in the forehead and answering your question.

“You truly are a little devil, aren’t you? But how do you feel?”

“Great. A little ashamed, to be honest, but great.”

He gave your forehead another peck.

“Don’t worry about it, my darling. That was also not my wisest decision, but I enjoyed it very much.”

You hummed and snuggled in his chest even more, unsure on what to do next. Thankfully, it felt like he knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Here’s what is going to happen now: we’ll take a bath and eat because no man in their right mind would send a woman home like this. Then, you’ll get to decide  if you want to go home after accomplishing your little revenge or if you prefer to spend the weekend with me in the lake house and not have to worry about your bills for a very long time.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you trying to buy me?”

“I’m willing to pay very well for it. But you don’t have to answer me now.”

He started getting out of the bed to prepare a bath, and once it was ready he came back to the room to take you there. When he took you in his arms again you materialized a thought that had appeared.

“I know it sounds silly now, but even though I’m tempted to spend the weekend with you, we’d have to stop by my house for me to get some clothes.”

Hearing this his mouth opened in the most mischievous grin.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten. My wife has a whole closet there for me to fuck you in.”

[lovebombs4life]

corruption - l.r.h

requested: nope. thinking of this as i’m listening to music :)

cw: SMUT. oral (f), fingering, rough sex, choking, unprotected, mentions of alcohol, dom!luke, i’m a slut for luke hemmings

———

“oh come on y/n, you’re telling me that you’ve never had anything interesting happen during sex?” crystal asked. i nodded my head. we were all sitting around in luke’s living room, some of us already drunk, some of us just buzzed. i was one of the only people in the group that was single, besides luke.

“i didn’t know there were interesting things when it came to sex until like two days ago, crystal. and we all know i constantly get ghosted whenever i try and get a date.” i rambled. i looked over at luke who was across the living room. he was slightly smirking as he listened to me.

“y/n, you’re 26. genuine question that’s gonna be real tmi. has a guy ever made you cum?” brandy asked. calum’s eyes widened at her question, but he wanted to know the answer too. everyone looked to me, waiting for my response.

“well i mean.. not exactly? when ever they’d get done they’d usually leave and i’d get myself off i guess.” i said, looking down. i picked at my nails, feeling slightly embarrassed. talking about this in front of my friends was a little embarrassing, but especially because luke kept watching me.

it’d be a lie if i said that i wasn’t attracted to luke. and it would also be a lie if i said i didn’t have a massive crush on him for the past few years. or maybe since we met. at sixteen.

“oh my god. are you serious?” michael questioned. i nodded my head, not wanting to look up at anyone. i bounced my leg, trying to calm myself down.

“okay y/n, let’s get you a drink. calm down those nerves, yeah?” crystal said, standing and grabbing my hand to get a drink. she pulled me to the kitchen, making sure we were alone.

“i’m not supposed to say anything, but i swear on my life, luke has been eyeing you this whole time. michael told me the other day that luke has been crushing on you for the longest time.” she spoke. my eyes almost fell out of my head from how wide they were.

“you’re serious?” i asked. she nodded her head. “dead serious.”

i glanced around the corner seeing that luke was still watching for me. my stomach did flips seeing him. i grabbed a drink from the fridge, popping it open and taking a large sip.

once crystal and i were back in the living room, luke’s eyes went back to being glued to me. “i’ll be right back guys, im gonna get changed.” i spoke up. everyone gave an ‘okay’ as i walked up the stairs. i went to luke’s room where i had left my overnight bag.

i closed the door before slipping out of my jeans and t-shirt. i unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the ground. i threw on my large shirt i used for pj’s, and slid on a pair of shorts. i headed back down the stairs, sitting back down on the couch. crystal handed me a drink, and i thanked her as i grabbed it.

we all sat there and talked for another few hours before everyone decided it was time to head home. i headed upstairs, grabbing my bag from luke’s room, and headed to his guest room.

“i’m gonna head to bed, goodnight luke!” i called from the door before closing it. i was too caught up in getting comfortable that i didn’t realize he hadn’t answered me.

i slid my shorts off, leaving me in my black panties and large t-shirt. i got on the bed, laying on my stomach. i scrolled through my phone, before stopping on a fan account of luke. i scrolled through the photos, squeezing my legs together.

“alright there?” luke’s voice scared me. i scrambled to sit up, covering my lower half with my t shirt. i clutched onto my phone, turning it off.

“oh don’t get all shy now, y/n. you’ve been showing yourself off, talking about nothing but your sex life all night. now i come in here seeing that you’re practically drooling over pictures of me.” he spoke, getting closer to me.

i swallowed hard, pushing my phone away from me. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, luke.” i played dumb. he laughed, shaking his head at me.

“don’t act like you’re all innocent there. if i hadn’t spoken up you would’ve started touching yourself. such a dirty slut.” he teased, crawling onto the bed, towering over me.

my breath hitched, and my thighs were dripping with my arousal. “i still don’t know what you mean.” i pushed. i don’t know where this confidence was coming from, but i could tell he was trying hard not to pin me down from my lies.

“you wanna be a brat? act like you don’t want me to fuck you? thats just fine darling. you can get yourself off alone, never getting what you wanted.” he spoke lowly. he was inches away from my face. i took a deep breathe, awaiting what he was going to do next.

he lowered his head to my neck, biting and licking at my skin. i let out a soft moan, making him smirk as he left marks on me. “i don’t want to hear another noise out of your mouth unless you’re gonna be a good girl.”

“i’ll be good, want to be good for you.” i whined. he smirked, lifting my shirt over my head. the smallest things he did made me wetter by the minute. i’d never felt this way with any other partner i’ve had.

he trailed his hands up and down my body, squeezing my thighs. he found his way to my clothed heat, running his fingers softly up and down. “so wet for me, yet i’ve hardly touched you. tell me what you want, sweetheart.” i gasped at his touch, moving my hips forward.

“anything, do anything to me, please, just touch me luke.” i begged. he chuckled at my need, slipping my panties down my legs and throwing them to the side. he kissed down my thighs, licking a stripe up my pussy.

i let out a groan, wanting more. my hands made their way to his curls, pulling slightly. he moaned at the feeling while his tongue attacked my clit. “fuck, luke, feels so good, never felt this good.” i breathed, my legs already shaking.

without warning, he slid a finger in, pumping in and out of me as he licked at me. i let out a loud moan, clenching around his finger. he slid another in, curling his fingers up.

“oh shit, luke! gotta cumbaby, please, luke, make me cum!” i begged, my thighs shaking harder. “cum for me good girl, wanna taste you.” he praised.

he continued curling his fingers, lapping away at my pussy. i pulled his hair, letting myself cum on his fingers. i squeezed my thighs, slightly trapping him as he kept going.

i arched my back, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure. “f-fuck! oh god, gonna cum again!” i cried. he moaned into my heat, sending me over the edge.

he pulled away once i calmed down, sucking my juices off his fingers. he brought his lips to mine, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue.

“did so good baby, now you can say you’ve cum having sex.” he teased. i blushed at his words. “i want more of you, lu, please.” i asked.

he threw his head back at the sight of me being spread out for him. he threw his shirt off and quickly slid his pants off. i watched as he grabbed hold of his cock, pumping it a few times.

“get on your hands and your knees, pretty girl.” he directed. i did as told, lifting my ass in the air. he slid his tip in, causing me to moan at the brief feeling. he pulled back before shoving his cock fully inside. i let out a yell as he steadied himself.

i buried my face into the pillows, screaming as he pounded into me. he grabbed my hair, pulling my face up. “don’t hide those pretty moans baby. want everyone to know who’s making you feel this fuckin good.” he said as he lifted me so his chest was pressed to my back.

my head fell back onto his shoulder, gasping as he hit my g spot. his hand traveled to my throat, squeezing tightly. my eyes rolled back as i let out strangled moans.

“luke! ugh, fuck! love your cock, never want anything else!” i cried, tears falling down my cheeks. he grunted as i kissed his neck.

“i’ve wanted you, fuck, for so long, y/n, never letting you go, you’re mine.” he growled, holding onto me as he fucked into me.

i clenched myself around him, moaning at how deep he was. he moaned at the feeling, smacking my ass from the side. “gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” he groaned.

he pressed his hand against my stomach, feeling his cock deep inside me. “feel that baby? feel my cock bulging into your stomach?” he asked, keeping his rough pace. i nodded my head, gasping for air as he fucked me.

i clenched around him again, this time not being able to stop it. “lu, gonna cum again, wanna cum on your cock.” i yelped, feeling his cock twitch at my words.

“fuck baby, go on, cum for me.” he said, holding my hips as he continued to pound into me. a scream ripped from my throat as i came, my body convulsing as he held me close.

“gonna cum baby, where you want me to-” i cut him off before he could continue. “in me, need you in me, wanna feel your cum deep in my pussy. on birth control already.” i gasped.

“fuck, such a cum slut.” he said, releasing into my pussy. i felt the hot liquid fill me up, making me moan. luke pulled out of me, leading me down to the bed.

“just one second darling.” he spoke before leaving the room. he returned with a warm wash cloth, cleaning me up. my body was still shaking, and i could feel my heart pounding.

he returned to the bed, laying with me, pulling me close. “enjoy yourself, love?” he questioned. i nodded, whimpering.

“didn’t hurt you did i?” he asked, worried. i shook my head, looking up at him. “you’ve really wanted me for a while?” i asked, hoping he meant it. he nodded, squeezing me.

“i’ve loved you since we met. wanted you for the longest time. and now im never letting you go.”

i sighed with contentment, falling asleep in his grip.

[gerrystamour]

i could be honest, i could be human [Chapter 3]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST PART ] [ NEXT PART ]

Summary: “God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”

Chapter Three: October 1984

If it didn’t suck so much, Steve would probably laugh about his situation.

Once again, he felt sorry. Not for himself at the moment, even if it felt like he had been gutted, his chest hollowed out with a dull knife. Mostly, he felt sorry for hurting Nancy all over again. The first time he hurt her, it was him being cruel because he was hurt. This time, it was him trying so hard to make things normal for both of them again.

Maybe he felt a little sorry for himself, he thought sadly, his heart heavy with hurt.

He sat at the far side of Tina’s backyard on a bench that faced the forest, smoking a cigarette and trying really hard not to actually cry.

“Hey, Steve?”

Looking up at the sky, Steve blinked rapidly to compose himself before he glanced over his shoulder. “Hey Jonathan, what’s up?” he greeted, his voice only a little shaky.

“Is everything—I saw you come out here, and Nancy is—?” Jonathan stopped abruptly when Steve blinked a tear loose and it streaked down the cheek he could see.

“Shit,” Steve hissed as another tear fell and he scrubbed at his face roughly. “Fuck!”

“Is there some way I can help?” Jonathan asked, soft and genuine, and Steve wished he could be mad at him. If this happened a year ago, he definitely would have snapped at him, maybe even hit him just for seeing him cry.

Blowing out a gusty breath, Steve nodded. “Can you get Nancy home? She’s had a lot to drink and she doesn’t want me—my help,” he said quietly.

“Hey, don’t say that, she loves—” Jonathan started, and Steve cut him off with a sharp sound.

“Jonathan, please. I don’t—just… Make sure Nancy gets home okay?” Steve nearly begged, pinching the bridge of his nose as another stupid wave of tears welled up.

“Yeah, man, totally,” Jonathan said and he grabbed Steve’s shoulder with a gentle firmness that went a long way toward comforting him. “You okay to get home too?”

“I live down the street, man, I’m fine,” Steve chuckled, his voice still wavering and a bit watery.

“Oh, right, I guess I forgot,” Jonathan laughed, and that actually brought a bit of a real smile to Steve’s face. He must have been doing something right over the past year for Jonathan to forget that his parents were rich. “See you at school?”

“Yeah, see you at school,” Steve replied with a nod, patting Jonathan’s hand where it still held his shoulder before the other boy let go.

With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hanging his head while his forgotten cigarette slowly burned down. He had been quitting that stupid habit, which he’d only picked up in the first place because Tommy smoked. Nancy always made a face when he would lean in to kiss her, even hours after he had smoked, so he gradually just stopped entirely. Of course, now that he was apparently cut loose from that relationship, he was back to his old habits. Would he go back to being King Steve, supreme asshole of Hawkins High? Reclaim his throne from that piece of shit Billy Hargrove?

Was he only a good person because he thought Nancy Wheeler was in love with him?

A new wave of tears welled up and he choked around a sob that stuck in his throat like shards of glass. He let the tears happen this time, staring listlessly down at the ground between his feet, miserably trying to figure out where his performance for Nancy ended and his actual personality began.

When he couldn’t immediately determine that answer, he let out a sighing sob.

He was probably too drunk to be thinking about it.

A shoe scuffed the ground just behind Steve and he tensed, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course Jonathan didn’t actually walk away, too soft to leave his former-bully and sort-of-friend crying on Halloween.

“Byers, I swear to God, if you don’t go take care of Nance like I asked, I’m going to barge into the dark room every time you’re in there until I graduate,” Steve threatened half-heartedly. He somehow already did that more often than he cared to admit, but that was neither here nor there.

“Not Byers, Your Majesty.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve hissed, sitting up to take a long drag from his cigarette.

Eddie chuckled behind him. “Damn, you’re bad at this, Harrington. Guess again.”

“God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

“Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”

Steve bristled, and the thought of telling Eddie anything about what happened in that bathroom… he would legitimately rather take on a Demogorgon again.

“Can we just get this over with, Munson?” Steve asked tiredly, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. To his frustration, they were immediately replaced with fresh ones.

“Get what over—?”

“Y’know, where you laugh at me, call me a bitch or a pussy, and then leave me alone,” Steve said, trying for angry, but he was apparently too sad to muster it and just sounded depressingly resigned.

When Eddie didn’t immediately say anything, Steve met his gaze. The other man’s expression was startling, honestly. It wasn’t the gleeful, delighted expression Eddie had worn outside The Hawk, or any variation of the smiles that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. He looked… afraid?

At least that would be how Steve would normally identify the wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. Then again, Steve had determined over the past year of casually noticing Eddie that wide-eyed was more like his default setting.

Eddie finally shut his mouth to clear his throat before shaking his head. “Nah, man. It’s only funny when you’re bleeding,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn leather jacket.

“What?” Steve scoffed, sneering up at Eddie.

“I don’t like laughing at people who’re crying,” he elaborated with a shrug. “It feels like punching down, even if they probably deserve it.”

“Gee, how fucking kind of you,” Steve grumbled, tossing his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it with his shoe.

“Seriously, Harrington, what’s this all about?” Eddie asked, and Steve hated how genuine he somehow made his voice. Like he actually cared. “Did Byers do this too?”

“Jonathan?” Steve laughed, shaking his head and chewing the inside of his cheek. “Nah, he was just checking on me. I was like this before he showed up.”

After a few moments of silence between them, Eddie sat down next to him and leaned back, spreading his long arms across the back of the bench. “If it wasn’t Byers, who was it?” he asked before affecting a knowing look. “Was it that dick, Billy? Did losing your title as King Douche of the Keg do this?”

Steve laughed and something fluttered in his chest at Eddie’s pleased expression. “For the record, no, this has nothing to do with that bullshit—” Steve cut himself off, sighing heavily and tipping his head back to look up at the sky again. Nancy’s words came back to him in a rush, about the party being bullshit, him being bullshit, their love being bullshit. Steve shook his head and said, “it doesn’t matter. I did this to myself.”

“You… made yourself cry?”

“Yeah, because I’m just… bullshit, y’know?” Steve said, frowning as he idly tried to identify whatever constellations he could remember.

“Well shit, Harrington. I could’ve told you that years ago and saved you the drunken epiphany,” Eddie teased, lifting a hand to shove Steve’s shoulder lightly and knocking another proper laugh out of him.

“You’re not wrong, Munson,” he murmured with a little smile. Despite that, more tears spilled down his cheeks and he hissed, “fuck, I hate this. I just want to go home.”

“How about you just go home then?” Eddie asked as he draped his arm around the back of the bench again.

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can’t go home like this,” he replied.

Eddie tilted his head. “And… why not?” he pressed, and Steve jumped when he felt Eddie’s thumb begin to idly stroke the cap of his shoulder. 

It was a motion that seemed thoughtless, like it was just what you did when your hand was resting near someone else. It was weird for a guy to be doing that with him, and Steve knew he should probably pull away, but it felt… nice, especially with how upset he was.

“Hello? Earth to Harrington?” Eddie crooned in his ear, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, what?” Steve said, shaking his head a bit.

“I asked why you can’t go home like this,” Eddie reminded him, an eyebrow raised.

‘Because my dad might still be up.’ “I just can’t, Munson, drop it,” he finally replied, fear and shame twisting in his gut along with his heartbreak. When he returned his gaze to Eddie’s, the expression on his face was a mixture of skepticism and understanding.

Silence stretched between them, Eddie’s thumb switching from rubbing Steve’s shoulder to lightly tapping out a beat. “Want a joint?” Eddie asked suddenly, and Steve blinked at him in confusion.

“I don’t have cash on me, man,” Steve managed to say after a moment when his tipsy brain caught up. “I wasn’t planning on—”

“I’m not trying to sell you anything,” Eddie interrupted, shaking his head. “I was going to smoke one anyway. We can share.”

Steve glared suspiciously. “What’s the catch? There has to be some kind of catch,” he accused. Finally, Eddie’s mean smirk rose to his face.

“Why? Because there’d be one if you were offering?” he asked and Steve reared back a bit at that, properly angry.

“What? No! People who don’t like me generally don’t offer me free shit, Munson,” Steve bit out as he stood up to glare down at him.

Eddie glowered right back up at him, his mean smirk slipping. “I just felt bad for you. Was trying to be nice,” he said sullenly, and Steve felt a little bad for snapping at him. Only a little, though, because pity? From Eddie “The Freak” Munson? That was enough to fire him back up, even if he withered at his own unkind thoughts.

“I don’t need or want your pity, Munson,” he practically growled, hands balling into tight fists at his sides.

“Then why’re you out here crying?” Eddie snapped, his face twisted in a mean scowl.

“In here feeling sorry for yourself, Stephen?” The sound of belt snapping. “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Steve swatted at an imaginary bug to disguise his flinch. Eddie was watching him with those stupid, wide brown eyes that seemed to notice and understand too much. He didn’t want to give him more ammo, more ways to get under his skin.

“Yeah, I was crying out here alone for pity,” Steve spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned around to leave. He would take his chances calming down in the forest, maybe get eaten by a Demogorgon or something. That would definitely spare him any more embarrassment.

“Harrington, wait.” A hand closed around Steve’s wrist, the grip firm enough to stop him but immediately gentled so Steve could pull away if he wanted. The cool, slender fingers and cold metal of Eddie’s rings against his wrist were grounding, kind of comforting, so Steve didn’t immediately pull away. Again, it struck Steve as something that was probably weird for two guys to be doing, but the physical touch did wonders to settle his head a bit.

“What?” Steve asked, his anger and embarrassment slowly bleeding out of him.

“I offered because I figured it might help you calm down, that’s it,” Eddie said, his big brown eyes looking up at Steve earnestly. “I do actually feel bad about you crying, because I mean it, I don’t like seeing anyone crying. And feeling bad isn’t always pity, y’know?”

Steve thought back to all the times he had insisted Jonathan share his lunches with him over the past year, always making excuses about not liking half of it or lying about eating too much breakfast. It was never out of pity that he did that. He had genuinely cared and wanted to share because he had enough to do so.

All of the anger left Steve at once, leaving him feeling hollow and exhausted. Numb. “I can’t just accept free shit from you, Munson, even if you want to pretend to share it with me,” he said after a few moments with a tired smile, then he shrugged. “That, and I can’t go home high either.”

Eddie watched him unblinkingly for several moments before he nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense,” he conceded, his thumb idly stroking the inside of Steve’s wrist.

The gentle touch sent goosebumps up Steve’s arm, right up the side of his neck and onto his scalp. His eyes flickered down to watch the movement, getting lost in it. There was a weird, warm weight that settled in his gut as he watched that thumb shift, each sweep making that feeling crawl up into his chest. Heat rose to his cheeks and that embarrassed fluttering returned to his chest.

Pulling his wrist away suddenly, Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks, though. For the offer,” he said, the words a bit stilted. “And I guess for getting me to stop crying after all.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” Eddie laughed, and Steve was taken aback by how big his true smile was up close. How bright Eddie’s eyes lit up with it, and how deep the dimples formed in his cheeks. Steve had only ever seen that smile from across the cafeteria, and he had never had it directed at him. “How’d I manage that?”

“Being a dick, mostly,” Steve retorted, his tone teasing. The joke landed just the way he had hoped, keeping that huge grin on Eddie’s face as he laughed. The embarrassed fluttering got stronger in his gut.

“I’ll be a dick to you any day of the week, Harrington. Whenever you need it,” Eddie said, winking up at Steve when he scoffed.

“How generous of you, Munson,” Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes before taking a step backward. “See you around?”

Eddie’s grin settled into a smile. “You know it, Harrington,” he replied, spreading his arms wide along the back of the bench and tilting his head.

Steve glanced down the long line of Eddie’s body before clearing his throat. Waving awkwardly, Steve turned around and quickly left, practically jogging home.

When he got there, the house was dark and silent, his parents already in bed. No doubt he would have to deal with a lecture the next morning, but he would just get up early for a run and hopefully avoid them before he went to school. He paused in his plan, trying to do the mental math to figure out how early he would have to wake up to have time for a run and have enough time to pick Nancy up before school.

Steve abruptly stopped that train of thought; did he even have to pick her up? Should he?

The thought of showing up at her house in the morning to give her a ride to school after what she said was nauseating. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure if he had to be alone with her in his car which would be humiliating at best.

And what if she didn’t even remember what she said?

No, he wouldn’t be able to handle that first thing in the morning. He shouldn’t be expected to handle that first thing in the morning.

A spark of anger finally ignited inside him at that thought. 

Steve was fucked up from everything that happened last year, too. Maybe not the same way Nancy was, but his pain mattered, too, didn’t it? And yeah, maybe the way he had been dealing with it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t any worse than how Nancy was, right? It was completely reasonable to try to find some normalcy, to move on, to try to stop seeing a dead girl every time he looked at his pool, or glanced at the woods behind his house. It was reasonable and sane to just try to survive his senior year.

Steve didn’t have to feel bad for not mourning Barb or carrying the guilt of her death the same way as Nancy. He didn’t have to feel bad for being scared of the people who made them sign confidentiality paperwork while armed guards stood over them. He didn’t have to feel bad for just wanting to keep his head down, graduate high school, and get the hell out of that town.

Despite all of those self-righteous thoughts, Steve went to bed feeling sick to his stomach with his guilt and shame, thinking of all the ways he could have done better by Nancy, no matter the cost to his peace of mind.

[ NEXT ]

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[crissiebaby]

Double Diaper Dare: Chapter 15

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, WAM, hypermessing, hypnosis, diaper filling, slime transformation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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Codi’s Diary: Entry 141 (Cont.)

Somehow, Crissie proved me wrong yet again. And for as much as I loathe being wrong, I couldn’t be happier that I was. Underneath all the diaper-loving havoc that Crissie creates is someone genuinely thoughtful person. The kind of person I could maybe see myself spending a lifetime with, though, perhaps that’s a little too early for me to say. Can’t blame a humble slime girl for dreaming.

This diary entry is already way longer than I intended it to be so I’m gonna cut it off here. I know that no one will probably ever read these but it helped me a lot to have a place to vent about all of Crissie’s silly antics. I’d like to say this will be my last entry but something tells me it won’t be long before Crissie gives me yet another reason to break this diary out, for better or worse.

P.S. I’m never playing Double Diaper Dare again lol

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“There you go. I swear, I think that’s the longest I’ve ever seen you go without padding,” teased Codi, patting the front of Crissie’s freshly changed diaper. After an eventful day, it was nice to be back in the nursery. She promptly tossed the chastity belt into the nearby laundry basket and moved to help Crissie to her feet.

As Crissie’s feet touched down on the carpet, her legs buckled beneath her; a result of some slimy antics by Codi. While she wasn’t normally one for penetration, she could tell she was already addicted to being filled by Codi’s gooey tentacles. “Does this mean I get to blame you for giving me a slime kink now?” she asked cheekily.

“Pffffft! I’ve seen your DeviantArt favorites. I know for a fact that I was not responsible for your slime fetish,” responded Codi as she flicked Crissie’s forehead and snickered softly, “And for the record, I won’t be busting out my goo moves super often. I…still feel a little weird about it.”

Deep in Codi’s voice, Crissie could hear the anxiety choking her up slightly, telling her this wasn’t the time to crack pointed jokes or shift into a Little’s mindset. Despite how hard it was to see Codi acting so down, it was almost comforting that Codi was finally opening up to her. “I promise I won’t pester you about it…at least not more than once a week,” she said, eliciting another round of chuckles from Codi, “In all seriousness, though, you really don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me. I accept you for who you are, goo and all.” Stepping in close, she placed her arms around Codi’s neck, pushing herself to keep from averting her eyes due to bashfulness.

Placing her hands on Crissie’s hips, Codi tilted her head to the side and pulled Crissie toward her, kissing her passionately. The moment their lips made contact, she was enthralled by the heat that emanated from Crissie’s mouth. It was like pressing her lips to a cup of hot chocolate. The warmth made her heart race in the most tender of ways, reminding her of how much she loved Crissie. Moreover, it reminded her of how human she felt; a feeling she never wanted to forget.

Love. If asked yesterday what Codi’s opinions on love were, she would’ve certainly given the most passive-aggressive response she could come up with. But now, love was replacing their two twin-sized cribs for a queen. Love was a nursery floating within a void of nothingness. Most importantly. Love was never wanting to go another day without Crissie in her life.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after nearly a three-minute make-out session, Crissie finally pulled away from Codi’s lips as she let in a deep breath through her mouth. “You’re a pretty good kisser for someone who finished her love education like, an hour ago,” she said before leaning in and stealing another kiss.

Still feeling the searing sensation of Crissie’s lips pressed up against hers, Codi let out a girlish giggle as she curled her lips inward and savored the heat. “Sooooo…does this…make us…ya know…” she said, tapping her pointer fingers together as her eyes darted to the floor.

“Roommates at most? Absolutely,” quipped Crissie, seizing the opportunity to sneak in a quick joke at Codi’s expense, “Nah, I’d say you’re officially treading into girlfriend territory at this point. Don’t worry, though, we’ll move as slowly as you want. No need to rush into labels and all that junk if it makes you nervous.”

Codi could practically feel her gooey insides melting at being referred to as a girlfriend, part of her wanted to brush off Crissie’s concerns and declare the two of them official right here and now, but given that she only just realized the emotions she was experiencing were love, it was probably wise to avoid rushing into things. “Ya know, I’m a bit shocked by how…mature you’re acting about all of this. You’re about the last person I expected to have even a shred of patience,” she said, jabbing Crissie right back after the roommate comment.

Sticking out her tongue, Crissie’s defensiveness rose. “I can be patient when I wanna be,” she said, pouting as she placed her hands on her hips, “You know how many naughty things I’ve wanted to do with you since you got here? I think I deserve praise for the amount of restraint I’ve shown.”

Rolling her eyes, Codi pinched the front of Crissie’s top between her fingers and yanked her body close. “Oh, that’s what you think, huh?” she said, feeling empowered by how easy it was to flip Crissie’s subby switch, “Well then, perhaps you deserve a reward for being soooooo patient.” Her hands shifted south to Crissie’s diaper front, caressing the crinkly plastic.

Crissie moaned softly as she already felt her body going weak thanks to Codi’s touch. Sucking her lower lip inward, she meekly nodded her head yes, becoming far too Little to verbalize her wants outright.

“Dang, who knew this was all it took to keep you quiet,” taunted Codi, who delighted in pointing out Crissie’s sudden silence. Scooping Crissie into her arms, she escorted her to the crib and laid her down gently on the plush mattress. She then climbed in herself before shuttering the crib bars behind her. Nuzzled in bed together, she crawled onto Crissie and rested her chest atop hers, “Now, you just lay right there and let your Big Sis Codi grind your diaper into oblivion.”

Leaning her head up, Crissie snuck in a kiss before Codi could do anything more. “Goddess, you make me feel so gay! Your lips are just so amazeballs!” she said, causing Codi to lose her nerve and break down laughing on top of her. The added weight of Codi’s body squeezed much of the oxygen out of her lungs.

“Okay, rule number one. No making me laugh during sexy time,” said Codi, pushing herself off of Crissie and giving her a light smack on both cheeks.

Giggling as Codi squished her face, Crissie's smug expression only grew. “Then you’d better shut me up again, Lil Sis!” she said, attempting to retake control of their dynamic.

Unfortunately for Crissie, Codi wasn’t about to relinquish her power with Crissie in such a vulnerable position. She quickly leaned back in and began to lustfully kiss Crissie’s neck whilst her hands proceeded to encircle Crissie’s sensitive breasts, forcing a pleasurable gasp out of the bratty smut writer. After about a minute of necking, she began to trail her kisses upward, eventually returning to Crissie’s lips for another glorious make-out session.

The overabundance of foreplay was doing numbers on Crissie, whose hips were bucking wildly as she felt Codi’s tongue entangle itself with hers. After months of pining for Codi from afar, this was exactly what she had been dreaming of. Closing her eyes, she let her body turn to putty in Codi’s arms, giving herself up to Codi entirely.

Codi pulled her knees forward and continued to lock lips with Crissie while she aligned their diapers. She ran her hand along the side of the crib, looking for the buzzy toy Crissie had been occupying herself with earlier that day. The moment her hand felt the hard, plastic surface of the Magic Wand, she smirked, grabbing onto the device and positioning it in between her and Crissie’s nappies.

*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*

The sound of the whirring vibrator was music to Codi and Crissie’s ears, as was the symphony of diaper rustling that accompanied their libidinous actions. Lost in a sea of passion and emotional bliss, the two girls became slaves to their own love and desires. While both of them definitely had far more fetish-driven sexual experiences than this, nothing had ever felt quite as intense as what they were feeling with each other. It was more than just diaper humping. It was making love, in their own kinky way.

“H-Hey, Codi,” mumbled Crissie in between exhales, “I D-Double Diaper Dare you to…to make me cum before you do.” She snickered once her sentence was finally finished, biting her lip in hopes that Codi would take her up on her sexy challenge.

Reaching down between herself and Crissie, Codi placed her fingers on the vibrator’s buttons, upping the tempo to a more climax-worthy setting. “You’re…going down,” she responded, planting a soft kiss on Crissie’s nose as her hip thrusting increased in speed along with the Magic Wand. Smiling through her horniness, she stared down at Crissie, falling in love with her all over again, “And when I win…I get to make you make my little diaper slut…forever and ev-”

*FLASH!*

Suddenly, a bright light emanating from the toy box caught Crissie and Codi off-guard. They turned to look at the wooden chest, their gazes becoming despondent as they spotted Master entering the nursery. “Hello girls,” she said, smiling through painfully gritted teeth as she approached the crib, “Did you both have a fun day together playing Double Diaper Dare?”

Gulping simultaneously, Crissie and Codi could do nothing but nod at Master’s question, knowing that there wasn’t a damned thing either of them could say to get out of the punishment that was surely coming their way. They were officially busted.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlossomBitchDolly BlushyBen DD Exminister Gun1242 JFN LittlePissy PrincessKittenLizzi Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca

[aajjks]

im so sorry you guys!! there’s been so much drama at my job lately. 😅🩷 thanks for being patient with me. here you gooo!!

NWO!JK

all thoughts, concerns—everything leaves your mind when jungkook shyly tells you that he asked morgan out on a date. the french fries you were chewing on goes down the wrong pipe upon hearing the news and jungkook quickly hands you his cup of water while eunwoo vigorously pats your back.

“Woah yn you alright?”

“do i LOOK like i’m alright, jungkook?” you wheeze before taking a large gulp of water from his straw. “looks like you’re choking to me” jokes eunwoo and neither you or jungkook laughs at his obvious joke.

you wanna scream and shout at jungkook for asking mj out but this is all your fault and as his friend, you may have to take your ‘L’ this time. barging in on his date would be so childish of you and despite your blatant jealousy, if it makes him happy then you suppose you’ll be happy too.

“ehem, as i was saying” you take another sip from jungkook’s cup before continuing. “I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOUUU!!!!! you guys make such…you guys are cute, i guess”

“doesn’t this mean you’ll get to be with the cool clique? you’ll go to the frat parties and smoke weed with the jocks”

“let’s not get too carried away. we still have to approve of her” you say with folded arms as you open your safari app only to be met with hundreds of links pertaining to spider-man’s alliance with the black cat.

“this is so annoying. none of this would be happening if the police would just do their jobs”

eunwoo rolls his eyes. “why are you so anti-spider-man y/n? he’s a hero”

“no he’s not. he’s a vigilante and i’m not anti bug guy, i just don’t care for him. he’s doing a good thing but i literally can’t watch my youtube videos without an ad popping up about this web swinging wannabe. it’s annoying!”

“one day you’ll meet spider-man and see how cool he really is”

“doubt it. spider-man doesn’t give a shit about me and i know how to kick ass just fine”

“it’ll happen. just you wait”

“in my dreams, maybe”

~🫧

Yes, it’s important that you guys will approve of Morgan. It’s not really a date But just a friendly dinner.

And he can’t help with the way his heart really breaks when you say don’t care about Spider-Man, what makes you hate him so much? Jungkook is so sad. out of all people you hate Spider-Man…

Well, at least he has eunwoo’s support. “Wow yn that’s not true! Spider-Man cares about y- I-I mean everyone!” Jungkook pouts. “And it’ll happen, not just in your dreams!” Jungkook smiles at you.

And that’s when he remembers.

“I can’t wait to go home because my aunt has probably arrived here in Seoul!!!!” Jungkook giggles. And you both are genuinely happy to hear that because you both adore his aunt too.

“BROO THAT MEANS I’LL COME OVER TO YOUR APARTMENT BECAUSE SHE COOKS DELICIOUS MEALS!” Eunwoo winks.

“I don’t think she will recognize you because you have gotten more handsome because you used to be so ugly.” Jungkook teases eunwoo.

“But yn is allowed anytime.” He winks at you.

•••

“숙모!!!!!” Jungkook yells her name the first thing he gets into his apartment. He excitedly looks all over the small living room and he smells something delicious cooking from the kitchen.

“KOOKIE!!!! IM HERE!” Jungkook throws his bag on the ground and runs into the kitchen. “숙모!!!” He cries out as he pulls her in a tight hug.

“Awww my love.” She coos, the spatula still in her hand. “oh so you got my letter and the keys didn’t you?” He hugs her, speaking softly.

“Yes! I arrived two hours ago.” She rubs his back. “Look at you kookie- you’ve gotten even more handsome.” Jungkook giggles again.

“숙모!!! I actually have to go have dinner with a friend at 7.. I’ll be home soon though DONT worry!” He breaks the hug as he informs her of his schedule. “And I have a part time job at the nearest pizza place.” He scratches his head. “I gotta leave in hand and hour first the shift!”

•••

Oh, he’s getting scolded AGAIN. Jungkooks got a helmet on his head as he listens to his manager nag at him for being late at work again.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? JEON! YOU DELIVER THIS PIZZA RIGHT NOW! IF YOU ARE LATE? IM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Jungkook tries to save his face from getting spat on because he’s such an aggressive person. “Y-Yes Mr Wang.” He grabs the pizzas from the counter. “I-I’ll go deliver the pizzas!”

Jungkook takes the keys of the scooter and saves his ass.

•••

He barely manages to make it home at 6:30. And he gets inside. “HEY 숙모!!!! I’ll go in my room to shower, can I get my favorite banana milk please?” Jungkook says while running to his room.

He needs to get decent for his dinner with Morgan.

[reincarnatedonthefirst]

Today was unexpected. I got three calls (all requests for outcalls): the first guy’s schedule didn’t line up with mine, the second guy I ended up seeing (more on that in a moment), and the third wanted bare services… 😑

Anyway, after a few hours of back and forth over text, guy number two sent his deposit, screening information, and address. We were supposed to meet at 8PM. Around 6:30PM, he changed our meet to 8:30PM which suited me fine because I was running late.

He mentioned that the elevator was keyed so I chose to wear a day dress with my Hermes inspired Oran sandals. I’d have worn heels but since he had to pick me up from the lobby, I didn’t want to draw to much attention to us.

I showed up to valet wearing a fake work badge that was affiliated with one of the large hospital networks in the city and carrying a portfolio envelope. The props were to help me look like I was there on business but I wasn’t fooling the valet. I don’t even know why I tried to pretend I was seeing a “business client”. Hotel staff has seen it all and they know a prostitute when they see one. From now on, I’m just going to straight up tell valet, “I’m here to see my client. 🤨”, and just stare them down.

Anyway, client came and got me from the lobby. He was surprisingly good-looking. He was in his thirties. I found out that he and some of his work colleagues were in town working with a corporate client.

We got to his room and he was not eager to get started and actually chatted with me for a while. He said he actually chose me because of my blog post (THE BLOG POST WINS AGAIN!). I actually seem to be getting mostly clients in tech because I mention having previously worked in tech in my blog post. Go fig…

Anyway, he’s kind of interesting. He’s into the lifestyle, ENM (ethical non-monogamy). He actually explained to me the difference between polyamory and ENM. He also talked about the swingers clubs in the city and he offered to take me to one next time he comes (the same club I researched for my polyam friend a few weeks ago). He knows the club well and even knows the club rules. He offered to take me next time he comes into town (hellz naw).

Anyway, sex wasn’t bad. He was actually pretty well endowed and very dominant. He was shy about choking me during sex at first but after he saw I was into it, he let loose. It was fabulous.

He finally came and I was relieved. He still had a little time on the clock so as to get an idea of whether or not he wanted me to leave or stay, I asked him, “Do you have anything you need to do?” He very, very politely beat around the bush and basically intimated (with his body language as well) that he wanted to be left alone. But instead of actually saying that, he clumsily told me I could stick around for a little while. I think he thought I genuinely wanted to stay and chill for a bit but more wrong he could not be.

I washed up, gathered my things, and happily went on my way. I inhaled some left over chicken tikka masala when I got home.

I want to do incalls all the time from now on. Not having to spend money on hotels is paradise.

[ayatoscupid]

just one thing i need

ocean (oc) x cain | 3.2k words | nonau, confession fic, cheesy fluff | warnings: slight mentions of christmas themes

note: based off of holiday cain's fate episode. ocean is my gbf oc, info coming… eventually! rhoswen is a friend’s danchou oc shipped with eustace.

a/n: *shits myself adn dies* will cain finally leave my brain after this (probably not)

“Hm… Did she hide the present somewhere? I really hope she didn’t bury it… I’d probably freeze before I could find it.” Cain sighs, the only sound he can hear from the top of this hill being his feet trudging in the snow and the chilling wind blowing past his ears.

Until he hears a sneeze somewhere.

He swivels around, scanning the area until he sees a silhouette nearby, basking in the moonlight.

‘Ah, that must be Pholia!’ Cain thinks, jogging up to the silhouette. He’s about to call for her when he sees the familiar tips of pinned back fox ears and hears a familiar voice, grumbling to themselves.

“Mmngh, what did Bai Ze tell me to wait here for… I’m gonna get frostbite out here…” Ocean sniffles, hugging themselves tight even with their abundance of layers on. “So much snow…”

“O-Ocean?” Cain halts, eyes widening. Already, his heart is beating a hundred miles an hour. “Is that you?”

Like springs, Ocean’s ears perk up straight on their head, and they turn to Cain with a bewildered look. Already their cheeks are burning with warmth, and if it weren’t for Cain being equally as shocked, he’d be chuckling at how cute it is. “C-Cain?! What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Cain points out, walking closer to them. “I thought you were still busy with the mission with Rhoswen…”

Ocean pouts and tilts their head like a confused puppy. “Huh? That’s already done though.”

Cain blinks. How many surprises is he gonna get tonight? “Huh?”

“Mhmm. Pholia, Leona and Reinhardtzar helped us out, which made it a lot easier.” Ocean explains. “Since we were already done, I figured to stop by—b-because I wanted to check out the festivities, th-that’s all! But then Bai Ze took me here instead. Something about a special gift from Santa, or something…”

“I-I see…” Cain laughs bashfully, a little embarrassed that he was angsting over not being able to give Ocean their gift five minutes ago. They were already done this whole time… He blinks, putting two and two together. So everyone’s been helping out on the mission to get it finished a few days earlier? …Everyone? “Hold on. Did you say Leo and Reinhardtzar helped you too?”

Ocean pouts again. “Yeah?”

‘…Did they force a vacation on me so I could talk to Ocean?!’ Cain realises, absolutely mortified. ‘Does this mean they know about the present?! Uuugh, I was trying to keep it a secret, this is so embarrassing…’

“…Uuuh. Cainnn, are you okay?” Ocean calls out, waving their hand in front of his face. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Don’t get frostbite on me, you dummy.”

Cain snaps out of it and laughs, in a pathetic attempt to mask his embarrassment. “Y-yeah, fit as a fiddle! Don’t worry!”

Ocean pouts and goes back to hugging themselves. “Who even says ‘fit as a fiddle’ anymore… W-whatever, just don’t freeze to death. Are your clothes warm? They look good on you—” They choke on their words, burying their face so deep in their scarf Cain doesn’t see any part of it anymore, just a perfect half of hair and cloth. “B-but if you’re cold, c-cover up! Okay?!”

Cain’s laugh is genuine this time, an unspeakable fondness in his eyes from Ocean’s flustering and slip of tongue. “Don’t worry, my clothes are warm. Pholia had this outfit specially tailored for me.”

“I know.” Ocean replies, muffled into their scarf. “…I helped her and Leona make it.”

It’s Cain’s turn to fluster, cheeks and nose a glowing red even in the chilly evening air. “Y-you did?”

“Mhmm…” Ocean nods, turning their head away to feign sudden interest at a tree nearby. “I-I mean, I didn’t do much. I mostly just mailed sketches over to them. I didn’t even think I’d see you in it from how busy I am.”

Cain recalls a time he saw a few small packages sent to Leona from Ocean while sorting through the mail, and upon asking her about it, she stammered that it was nothing. “Oh. Well…” He chuckles sheepishly. “Thank you. I think it’s really nice. It feels refreshing to step out of my standard military clothes.”

Ocean nods. “You look good in more casual clothes.” Then, adorably, they fluster again, looking away with their cheeks searing. “Th-thanks to me, of course! And Pholia and Leona. Y-you should have more variety in your closet… a-and stuff…”

Cain laughs, nodding in agreement. “Maybe you can help tailor some more clothes for me?”

Ocean frowns at him, and even though he can’t see their eyes through their long bangs, he can feel their feline stare boring into him. “You’ll have to pay. My services aren’t always for free.”

“Of course. Just name your price and I’ll pay.” Cain replies smoothly, a charming smile on his face. Ocean hisses and looks away again, but there’s no mistaking the wavering frown on their lips and the heat all over their face.

“Ah! Since you’re here…” Cain suddenly remembers the small box in his pocket and takes it out, holding it out to Ocean. At least they won’t be able to tell how clammy his hands are from beneath his gloves. “I thought I’d have to pass this on to you through someone else, but here. I have a present for you.”

“…For me…?” Ocean mumbles, so small and uncharacteristically soft that Cain’s chest squeezes. As if they couldn’t get any more endearing, they take the box with both hands, cradling it with so much care. It’s almost as if Cain can physically see their eyes sparkling beneath their bangs. “Is it okay if I open it now…?”

“Go for it.” Cain smiles, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I really hope you like it.”

Admittedly, he’s extremely nervous. He wouldn’t be this nervous giving presents to anyone else—but Ocean isn’t just anyone else. He’s known that for a long time now, that his feelings for them aren’t like the feelings he’s felt for anyone before.

(“Wait, wait—Can you describe it again? How you feel around Ocean?” Leona had asked once, a long time ago, after Rhoswen and their crew had left Nalhegrande after a brief visit. Ocean included, which Cain felt a deep ache from.

“Huh? Well, um…” Cain scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “My chest squeezes, and I start getting really warm… I feel really happy, but also really weird. Like there’s something missing whenever I’m with them, and I want it really badly.”

A long silence had followed, blanketing the room in an awkward tension that Cain desperately wanted to cut through.

Reinhardtzar beat him to it. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Leona had burst into laughter, having to clutch her stomach from how boisterous it was, and Cain spluttered. “W-what?!”

“I really didn’t think you wouldn’t know! Ahhh, This is comedy gold!” Leona wheezed, wiping imaginary tears away. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

“I think he has.” Reinhardtzar squinted, smirking knowingly. “He just hasn’t admitted it to himself yet.”

He was right. Cain sank further into his seat, hiding his reddening face behind the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t a fool, but this experience was just… new, in an equally exciting and terrifying way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re head over heels in love, Cain.” Leona said straightforwardly, a warm little smile on her lips.

What she had said next would ring in Cain’s head constantly until he came to terms with his feelings, and started to gather the courage to make them known. “I’d know. I felt the same way around your brother.”)

Ocean opens the box to reveal his present: a bangle of beautiful stones, strung together with exquisite silk. They’re remarkably quiet as they stare at it, pocketing the box and examining the bracelet in their hands.

Nervous, Cain starts explaining himself. “I-it’s, um. It’s imbued with prayers said to protect the wearer from evil. The shopkeeper said it’s a popular gift for travelers.” He clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot. “The thing is, I…”

He licks his lips. Is he really ready to say it now?

“I miss you, sometimes.” He backs out of it at the last second. He knows he’s going to curse at himself for it later, but even just the thought of confessing now almost made him combust. “And I worry about you. I never want you to have to go through any dangerous life-or-death situations. I know you can handle your own perfectly well, but… I want to protect you anyway.”

He licks his lips, shoulders tensing up not from the cold, but from the effort to not just spill his entire heart right here. “But I can’t. I have to stay in Nalhegrande. …Truth be told, I want to join you back on the ship. I want to be with you—be, um, be there with you on your adventure. But until then… take this with you. As a good-luck charm from me, until I can be there and protect you.”

He takes a deep breath, immediately trying to offset his vulnerable confession with an awkward little laugh. Knowing Ocean like the back of his hand, he raises his hands in surrender, prepared for one of the feisty Erune’s light whacks. “Okay, now I know what you’re going to do. I know it’s really cheesy—”

“Thank you.”

“Eh?” Cain blinks, frozen in place.

“…Thank you.” Ocean says, softer. The bracelet is already wrapped around their wrist, and they’re holding it close to their chest, rubbing the silk between their fingers. They’re blushing and so, so visibly flustered, but they remain still. Flustered and blushing but not whacking Cain and running away, but standing still, like they don’t want to leave.

Cain realises that the trembling frown on their lips isn’t from their usual denial—it’s from their deepest emotions, prying between their walls to be seen.

“I really like it.” Ocean continues, squeezing the bracelet so close it could melt into their chest and nestle its way into their heart. “B-because it’s pretty, and um—…n-not just because it’s pretty. Because it’s so thoughtful, and because it’s from you.”

Before Cain can open his mouth to say something, Ocean clears their throat and shoves their hands in their pockets, fishing out a long black box and an envelope. They hold the present out to Cain, looking away. “H-here. I had something for you too.”

Cain takes the gifts, pleasantly surprised. As if he wasn’t shocked enough by Ocean’s rare moment of vulnerability, they had a gift prepared for him too? “I thought this outfit was your present for me!”

“Who says I can’t give you two presents?” Ocean huffs, crossing their arms.

Cain just chuckles and starts opening the envelope, to which Ocean wheezes and takes a step back. “Y-you’re gonna read it now?!”

Cain stammers, alarmed. “H-huh—Sorry, uh, I can read it when I’m back in Groz…”

Ocean worries their lower lip as Cain moves to open the box instead—until Ocean reaches forward to grab his wrists. “W-wait, read the letter now! I—I don’t wanna have to wait for your answer until we see each other again…”

Cain blinks for a few moments, before chuckling and nodding in understanding, bringing his attention back to the letter. “Okay, okay.”

“D-don’t read it out loud though, I don’t wanna hear how cheesy I am!”

“Yes, yes~”

Cain,

Captain Rhoswen told me that you usually write cards to greet people with their presents, so this is me writing one. Happy Holidays.

…Well, truth be told, I have a lot more to say than just that.

I know we exchange letters a lot, but I can never bring myself to say the one thing I want to say in those letters. I’ve been wanting to say that one thing for a long time now, but it takes a lot of my pride to say. It makes me shy, makes me want to whack something in frustration, makes me want to run away to try to burn off the sudden energy boost I get from it.

Ugh, I do those exact same things around you, you know.

I miss you a lot. That’s not that one thing I wanted to say, but it’s something I wanted to get off my chest too. Sometimes I wish you were here with us, on the Grandcypher. Sometimes I feel like there’s something missing without you here.

But whenever you are here, with me, that feeling is still there.

I know what that feeling means, and I know what’s missing. I see it every time I see Rhoswen and Eustace. I see it every time Leona talks about your brother.

I feel it every time I think about you.

Cain… I’m in love with you.

That’s the one thing I wanted to say.

Ocean

“…I-I—” Ocean blabbers, hiding behind their gloved hands. They’re still peeking from between their fingers, watching Cain’s unreadable expression. “T-to be fair! I-I didn’t think I’d be seeing you for a while—I thought next time I’d see you, I-I’d be more prepared for this! I planned to—t-to give this to Leona to pass on to you, and I’d s-spend the next few months mentally preparing myself for your answer. Ugh, m-maybe I should’ve just let you read it back in Idelva, I’m about to faint from nerves, this is so embarrassing—…C-Cain?”

Cain walks up to Ocean wordlessly, gently taking their wrists away from their face and leaning in to press his lips to theirs.

He feels Ocean freeze in place and lets go of their wrists, fully prepared for them to run away.

But it seems that they have another surprise up their sleeve, because they don’t. They reach out to tug Cain even closer by the collar of his coat, almost making him stumble. Cain makes a noise of surprise but quickly recovers, arms sliding around their waist to pull them into him. He can’t count how many times he’s thought of this, and can’t describe how much better it is in real life than in his dreams.

Ocean pulls away after several moments, having kissed Cain long enough for both them to pant softly, small puffs of air dissipating between their lips.

“…I can’t believe you beat me to it.” Cain laughs softly, gently squeezing Ocean’s waist. “I almost confessed while explaining my present.”

Ocean is silent for a few moments. Cain can see from this close, between the strands of their hair, the way they’re blinking profusely. They gently smack his chest, pouting. “Coward.”

Cain laughs louder. “I thought I wasn’t ready yet!”

He sees the way they look at him, a little guilty. “A-are you still not ready?”

Cain hums for a moment, feigning deep thought. Then, he reaches up to gently push Ocean’s bangs back and away from their face, so he can see their eyes and press a kiss to their forehead. “I’m more than ready to be with you.”

He doesn’t think he will ever get tired of the way Ocean’s striking red, feline eyes widen. Nor the way they open and close their mouth, trying to figure out what to say. They snap out of it after a moment, grabbing Cain’s wrist to keep it where it is. “W-wait. Keep that there.” They say, free hand reaching down to pull out a long hair clip from their pocket. They pin their bangs up to their hair and let go of Cain’s wrist, and Cain thinks they look beautiful.

“H-here.” Ocean mumbles, ears flicking in embarrassment. “Now you can kiss my forehead whenever you want. O-or, at least, until I take this thing off.”

Cain stands there for a few moments, stunned, before his heart bursts into glee in a delayed reaction. He grins wide, cupping Ocean’s cheeks and pressing kisses all over their face—their forehead, cheeks and nose, making them splutter and squirm around.

“C-Cain,” they stammer, but lean into it all the same, their embarrassment turning into delight as they start giggling, “W-wait, hehe, Cain—”

Cain interrupts them by pressing one, two, three quick pecks to their lips, before finally stopping and leaning his forehead against theirs. “Sorry.” He laughs. “I’ve just wanted to do that for a long time.”

Ocean smiles and it’s stunning—to see them so unashamedly happy, to see their eyes filled with enough warmth to melt the snow around them, to see them so in love. With him. “Well, now you can do it whenever I’m here with you.”

Their smile dims a little, and so does his. The cold breeze that brushes past them gives the reminder that they still have to spend a majority of their time apart. Cain’s happier than anything to just be with Ocean in the way he’s always dreamt of, of course, but he can’t help but be a little selfish and wish he could spend everyday with them in his arms like this.

“…Say…” Ocean hums, taking Cain’s hands and gently squeezing them. “Captain Rhoswen’s put me on a forced vacation of sorts for a couple of days. I didn’t want to go on one at first, but maybe… I can spend those couple of days with you?”

Cain blinks slowly, putting two and two together. The others can be so clever, can’t they?

He lets out a delighted laugh, picking Ocean up by the waist and hurrying down the snowy hill carrying them in his arms. They yelp and scramble to cling to him, arms and legs wrapped around him tight, but they laugh nonetheless. “H-hey! This is the second time you haven’t answered me properly, but I’m guessing that’s a yes?!”

“I’d spend every day with you if I could!” Cain confesses, practically yelling out his love out into the wind. “But for now, I’m just gonna make the most out of our vacation together!”

Ocean giggles loudly, burying their face in his neck to hide their goofy smile. They profess their love much quieter than Cain does, but he feels it in every crevice of his heart nonetheless. “You better not let go of me for this entire vacation, you dork.”

(“I can’t believe you forgot to open my other present, you dummy.” Ocean tsks, clasping the necklace around Cain’s neck before gently flicking the back of his head. “Rude.”

“Sorry, sorry, got too excited with your confession.” Cain laughs, fiddling with the necklace between his fingers. A precious stone dangles from it, red as striking as the eyes staring at him with nervousness.

“Do you like it?” Ocean mumbles, fiddling with their fingers.

“Of course I do. It’s pretty, and it’s from you.” Cain gives them a reassuring smile. “Does this stone mean anything in particular?”

Ocean lifts their wrist to point to the same stone woven into their newly gifted bracelet. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same one…”

Cain blinks rapidly. “Wait. Where did you buy it from?”

“Here, last time we visited Nalhegrande.” Ocean tilts their head, still seemingly oblivious to the puzzle pieces Cain is putting together. “I was actually already thinking of what to give you, so we went to the market and Captain recommended this stall selling precious jewelry imbued with pray…ers…”

They squint. “Did you get it from the same store?”

“Leo took me there.”

The gears turn slowly in Ocean’s head, and when they click, they gape and stand up in shock. “Those scheming pieces of—!”

Cain has to lean back on his chair from how boisterous his laugh is, slapping his knee. Maybe being obvious with his crush on Ocean did some good for him after all.)

[neurosky]

Hi there- I’m pretty new to Tumblr so I still don’t 100% understand how it works. Also, my head is pretty fuzzy so the writing here might be really stiff and confusing.

I also have PANS/PANDAS. There aren’t many online that talk about it. I was incredibly happy to see your blog and diagnosis (which was pretty recent I think). Congratulations!

My symptoms started many years ago, when I was around 9. My behavior changed, my handwriting got really bad, etcetera. It got much worse when I entered 4th grade though. I remember freaking out over not being prepared for something, and was taken out for the first week. (I only found out about the first week bit again since I barely remembered that). Around this time, my mother was trying to find any kind of help. We eventually found one doctor, but since we lived in the USA we couldn’t afford the care. He actually mentioned PANDAS but we weren’t able to go through with any diagnosis.

I left the school I was at in the middle of 4th grade. Changed again when going into 5th. I barely remember anything from that point in my life. It just kinda sucked a lot. I couldn’t understand what any of the teachers were saying. Couldn’t do my homework. Couldn’t interact with others. We thought it would be better to go back to my first school, so in the middle of that year I switched again.

It was much more settled then. I had my old friends and knew the people there better. I also was in a better place family-wise (was living with my grandparents away from my dad during the other schools era). I still had trouble with things of course. I had to stay in during recess everyday because I was never able to finish my work. I still had trouble interacting with others, but I had old friends this time.

!!!/Warning for choking related thing. Don’t want that to trigger something

Over time I’d develop very specific fears that prevented me from doing things. I had an incident involving choking, and after that eating was incredibly difficult. I’m sure you could also relate to other people thinking you’re overreacting or faking it. My friends’ parents would ask, “why can you eat X but not Y?” My fears would get better over time, but switch out for new ones. They haven’t fully gone away either. I still have trouble swallowing, I have to sleep with my eyes covered in fear of sleep paralysis etc.

//

I started to develop an increasingly intense urge to daydream and pace. I’ve always had it, but it got to a point where it would take up most of my day. Spend hours walking in circles rethinking the same scenario in my head over and over.

8th grade came around and I went to another school again. The one I went to in 5th grade (confusing I know). This time around it was actually a lot nicer. I still didn’t interact with others -only one person a bit- but I was able to do my work well. There would be the one project once in a while that would make me breakdown of course. Especially if it had to do with presenting something. End of that school year though, I moved to Europe.

Moving to a new country was very difficult. I managed the first school year and finished my finals (I wasn’t fluent in the language I genuinely do not know how I passed) but by year 2 I couldn’t handle it. Second week I had to be taken out and we found a special therapist. I wasn’t able to reintegrate well but I could go for an hour a day sometimes.

It took a long time but my therapist was able to get me to a doctor that specializes in autism and other conditions. I went a couple times and after interviews and tests they brought up the idea of me having PANS/PANDAS. One doctor had a colleague that specialized in PANS/PANDAS, and was going to help us see him.

A couple days ago, I just finished my third IVIG treatment. Today, we just got news about all the care and benefits I’ll be able to get. It took very long, but I’m on my way to healing. I’m already feeling better in many areas. I’m nervous, but I’m more hopeful for the future!

I’m so sorry that was so long. And I’m sorry I’m posting this anonymously, I’m just a bit nervous about giving away too much information.

Just know that you aren’t alone! I related so closely to all the stuff you talked about. I read about you eating that salad and it reminded me what I did! Just a small positive thing like that make me so happy. I wish you the best! And it CAN get better!!!

Thank you so much for sharing your story! I'm sorry you had to go through this too, but I'm so, SO glad that you're on the road to recovery now. I totally relate to a lot of what you said too. It's so important to have a community and people who you can relate to.

I'm glad my posts can make you happy!! And you're right, it CAN get better <3

[majestyrising]

03:00.txt

Notes: Starkiller drowns her sorrows. Only content warning here is sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Usual Neo Necropolis stuff.

Pings:

It’s 3:00 in the morning. That’s what the display on Starkiller’s visor says anyway, when she lets her gaze drift to the left to acknowledge the readout. She’s been here for 5 hours, give or take.

Usually she’d be rocking out with Star Eater, her bestie and absolute favouritest boy in the entire universe, or throwing back colourful drinks with a stranger, but tonight she’s sitting on a stool overlooking the Neo Necropolis skyline and feeling sorry for herself.

She slipped away from the group about an hour ago. She can see in her mind’s eye how it went down after she left: Saint and Daiquiri probably wanted to go after her for more hot gossip but Seven told them to leave her alone, give her space.

Or maybe they thought her hot gossip was too sad to be interesting. If that’s the case she’s even more glad they’re not here. She definitely couldn’t handle Daiquiri’s well meaning pity or Saint’s straight up rudeness right now.

Anyway, the point is that she’s been using that space to wallow in her own misery and make her way down a big ‘ol bottle of coconut vodka.

A few people have come by to try to chat her up but all quickly lost interest. It’s no surprise that there’s someone else who hovers over her shoulder. She just waits for whatever corny or gross thing they’re going to slur out.

“I thought that was you,” says a voice that genuinely surprises her, “You got a seat going?”

✩

It’s Kingslayer who sits down next to her.

His iridescent bracers shimmer as he does so, the neon of his digitised palm tree tattoos flickering.

“Hey,” he says, “Real nice night out, right?”

She looks him up and down, ignoring the readouts from her visor since she’s not here to size him up. She’s just curious; he’s not here to party, that’s for sure.

He’s still wearing his usual high collared jacket and the guns (plural) on his belt are prominent.

“Yeah,” she says, without much inflection.

She tries to rouse herself, there’s no need to worry him, everything’s fine! But that’s harder than it looks to pull off. It’s a painful thing to try to remove the permanent scowl of sadness that’s now basically just what her face looks like.

“You here with Gat?” she asks, hoping to distract him from the pretty depressing state of the table they’re, littered with shot glasses and salted peanuts as it is.

Speaking of peanuts, she grabs a handful and shoves it into her mouth.

“Mhm,” he confirms, with a quirk of his lips, “He’s downstairs, wanted me to leave him for a bit. Guess I’m cramping his style.”

“I guess having the big scary bodyguard looming over you does hurt the prospects of getting dicked the fuck down,” she says, with a snort.

Kingslayer makes a face at that, shaking his head as he wrinkles his face as if he’s sucked on a lemon. He punctates that by slamming his hands down palm open on the table.

“God, do not say that ever again! I’ll pay you for your silence,” he groans, still shaking his head before he tilts it to the side and through his sour expression, adds, “He doesn’t do any of that whilst we’re on the clock.”

He points at the shot glasses, some of them full, and she nods. He grabs the closest one and drinks.

Woof, it’s strong. Good stuff, though. Makes sense, considering she doesn’t have to pay to drink here.

“Nah, just a surprisingly squeaky clean and flighty contact,” he explains.

At that her visor scrolls an incredulous ‘ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ’.

“In BLISS?” she asks, with a snort, “A squeaky clean dude who wants to buy guns, in the biggest club in the city?”

“I know, I know,” Kingslayer laughs, bumping her knee with his, “Insane, I know. But he was looking at me like he thought I’d kill him for looking at me funny!”

“You?” she says, grabbing another shot and throwing it back, pausing to choke on it before she adds, “You wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

He puts his hands on the bar stool to turn it in her direction.

“Oh, I mean, elite ex-exaltee force soldier who’s now a merc working for an arms company?” he chuckles, not unkindly, “I’m like the epitome of a dude doing the worst possible thing with his skillset. Can’t blame anyone for being skittish.”

“Well I still think you’re a pacifist on the inside,” Starkiller says, smacking her lips as the alcohol burns its way through her.

“It’s Neo Necropolis, no one is a pacifist,” he counters, amused by the very thought.

She just shrugs, so the two of them sit in amicable silence, listening to the ambience of the very drunk patrons around them and the clink of glasses.

✩

The amicable silence slowly turns tense, though.

“So,” he ventures, drawing the word out, “Elephant in the room.”

“Nope,” she says immediately, filling up another shot and throwing it back with gusto, “No elephants here, buddy.”

Her shoulders are tensed as she taps her foot against the bar stool, now staring dead ahead at the skyline instead of in his direction.

“Sorry SK,” he replies apologetically, “I gotta ask why you’re not cutting some absolutely insane shapes on the dancefloor like I hear you enjoy doing.”

She shakes her head without replying, pouring the entire line of shots once again with a surprisingly steady hand.

“I gotta know why you’re in, uh-”

He gestures at her entire deal, from the way she’s surrounded by the wreckage of a bender and crushed peanuts, to the shocking neon of her outfit seeming drab and sad.

“In this whole sitch,” he says, with a frown.

She groans, looking up at the sky despairingly. Maybe she’s hoping the Stormcatcher will strike her with a bolt before Kingslayer can continue his line of questioning.

“Look,” she says, “I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m really happy to see you, but don’t push it, okay?”

He lets out a quiet sigh as she takes another shot. She sure can hold her liquor, he notes, considering she’s still understandable despite most of her blood being straight up lighter fluid at this point, he assumes.

“No can do cap’n,” he presses on with a solemn nod, “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” she protests, her tone annoyed, “Drop it already, King.”

For a moment he does, and the two of them sit in further awkward silence.

✩

Until it’s too much, anyway.

“I’m not gunna drop it-”

“For fuck’s sake!” she yells.

It gets the attention of the people around them as she pants angrily. Kingslayer holds up his hands and waves for everyone to carry on, which they do.

“Okay, okay, fine, fine fine fine! It’s about Star Eater, okay?!” she hisses, leaning up into his personal space with the energy of a feral cat.

She grabs another shot and downs it, savouring the burn as more of her inhibitions flit away, the misery still there but fought by the simmer in her stomach.

“Uh huh,” Kingslayer says slowly, nodding as he does and she sits back down where she was, “Yeah, okay, cool.”

His throat bobs as he swallows, knowing damn well he’s just pouring salt into this very obvious wound.

“What about him?” he asks tentatively.

Her chest heaves in a mighty sigh as the alcohol swirls around her brain, both making things better and a lot worse.

“You know,” she slurs out, after a couple of moments of trying to fight the words in her brain into making sense.

Kingslayer rests his chin on his fist, clucking his tongue.

“Mm, guessing game, okay,” he says, “I know that you guys are super tight, like twisted up in a pretzel tight.”

She hums in agreement. Her visor scrolls a ‘o(>ω<)o’ in addition, as if he needed further clarification.

So they didn’t have a fight. Which is good!

“I saw he was with Zion,” he adds, thoughtfully, “They’re getting close, I guess?”

He couldn’t see much, except that Star Eater and Zion were in a booth together seemingly having a very private conversation.

She fills up another shot glass without looking at him.

“Uh huh,” he notes, brow furrowing, “Okay, then…”

He trails off, squinting at her face- what of it is exposed, anyway- as her expression twists and her visor reads a ‘(⇀‸↼‶)’.

What else could it be? She’s not an argumentative person, and Zion is a dick but he didn’t seem to be acting cruelly to Star Eater in the moment-

“Oh,” he says, “Wait. You.”

Oh dear.

✩

He rubs the back of his neck, the unfortunate reality of the situation now settling in his mind. 

“You have feelings for him,” he says slowly, at which she viciously knocks back her next shot.

They’re tight as they come, soul mates for sure, perfect for each other. There’s just one problem.

Star Eater is about as gay as they come.

Oh, and since they’re inseparable, Starkiller will never have the space to get over her feelings.

“How long?” he asks, watching as the lights reflect off the shot glasses.

“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, though her teeth catch her bottom lip.

“I mean, I feel like it does,” he begins, but her head snaps up as she shoots him a nasty glare from behind the visor. He can feel it, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

She throws her hands up in the air in frustration, coming dangerously close to slamming her visor into the table before she leans almost all the way back on the bar stool.

“What do you want me to say?” she yells before her shoulders slump in defeat, hand snaking out to grab another glass and throw the rest of it back.

She lets out a deep, deep sigh that seems to come from the seat of his soul.

“What, hey, I know it’s not my fuckin’ biz but when I see you with other guys I feel like I want to eat glass,” she rants, visor glowing as she does, “And now you’re going through so much because of Zion and it makes me feel like my heart’s being turned inside out?”

She licks her lips, eyeballing the empty shot glass and dragging the next one closer as Kingslayer shifts his weight from left to right, his lips a thin, concerned line.

“That I don’t know if there’s a combination of drugs that’ll numb the way I feel anymore?” she continues, her anger and sadness simmering in her voice, “That if he asked me for the moon because it’d make a sick disco ball I’d grab handholds of stars to get the damn thing myself?”

Kingslayer hums softly, leaning his elbows on the table.

“I don’t know,” he says, lightly, “I feel like that kind of spontaneous declaration of love would get you a penthouse invite straight to my heart.”

He pauses for a moment, turning it around in his head.

“If I was Star Eater,” he clarifies, “And you weren’t my sister.”

Her visor scrolls ‘(μ_μ)’, which he acknowledges with a snort. His attempts at humour haven’t hit home just yet, it seems, but he’ll keep trying.

✩

They sit in silence as Starkiller dejectedly runs a finger along the rim of her shot glass.

“Did… this help?” Kingslayer ventures quietly, “You look like you feel worse.”

She shrugs at that, entire body limp and radiating fatalistic self loathing so strong it’s coming off her in waves.

“I don’t know,” she says, simply.

Kingslayer cringes at that, pouring himself a small shot and throwing it back. It burns in the back of his throat pleasantly, unlike the measure of guilt he feels about poking this topic.

“Sorry,” he says lamely.

“Nah,” she slurs, before throwing back the shot and shaking her head as she does so. If it’s because she’s trying to make him feel better or because the alcohol is catching up to her, he can’t say.

She sways slightly on the bar stool, the neon lights of the signs plastered on the buildings nearby reflecting in her visor.

Maybe it is catching up to her.

“It was nice to talk to you about it,” she says, rolling her head to the side to look at him with a placid if sad look, “We should talk more.”

He smiles, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

“Agreed,” he says, before lifting both hands in an open shrug, “I guess we’re both still realising that’s an option, eh?”

She snorts in amusement, continuing to sway in a rhythm of her own choosing.

“Right?” she chuckles, lips curling into a smile, “Prank of the century to pull that shit on your own kids.”

Kingslayer pounds a closed fist to his chest and juts his chin up, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, if only I could go back in time to those bullies who beat me up for being an only child,” he proclaims, “I could show them- nay nay, school-hood cretins, I have a kickass older sister who I didn’t even know existed!”

He looks at her with a sharp grin, mods in his eyes shining in the moonlight.

“And then you’d come in and they’d all go ‘ooooo’, and you’d kick their asses, or something,” he says, his tail flicking.

“Sick,” she says with a faux-sage nod, “I genuinely can’t tell if you’re joking about the bullies, though.”

His grin widens and widens.

“I’ll never tell,” he says, sticking his tongue between his teeth, “I’ll take it to my grave, in fact. Then you’ll have to come dig me up and jack into my corpse to read my mind in cyberspace, and you’ll be like, son of a bitch, he was telling the truth!”

He pours himself another shot and takes it quickly.

“Or, you’ll be like, awh hell no, he was lying, I dug up his rotting corpse for a stupid joke and now I’m booboo the fool.”

She smiles at that. They smile at each other.

He’s glad that his stupid jokes can at least make her smile. They’re certainly not as close as either of them would like to be, but they’re getting there.

✩

After a while she looks past him and nods forward, towards the bar.

“Your boss is here,” she says, giving him a slight kick in the shin.

Kingslayer looks over his shoulder to see Gat at the bar.

He doesn’t actually stick out, because he’s wearing the clothes Coyote gave him, but the way he stands with such delicate professionalism still gives him away even at a distance.

Hopefully it only gives him away to Kingslayer, though. Would really suck if anyone else clocked who he is.

“Ah,” he says, “Guess I better go do my job so I don’t get fired. Or get Gat killed.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, taking the bottle and pouring herself another round of shots.

He doesn’t love that, but he’s in no position to chasiste or stop her. He’s pretty damn sure he’d do the same thing in her shoes.

Hopefully he did some good, at least.

“Take care, sis,” he says, holding out a fist prime for bumping.

She stares at him for a moment before she raises her own and they share an excellent sibling fist bump.

He turns around to leave but pauses as she brings the shot glass to her lips and downs it.

“Just so you know,” he says, as casually as he can, “You’ll find someone who’ll pull down the moon for you too. You’re just way too cool not to.”

She turns her head in acknowledgement. He can see the ghost of a sad smile on her lips.

“Thanks,” she says, quietly. It’s almost lost in the noise of the crowd that’s forming.

✩

She watches him make his way through the noisy mess of inebriated patrons back to his employer, who greets him with a smile and a pleasant nod.

Alone with her thoughts yet again, she regards the horizon through the blurred lens of Stormcatcher knows just how many shots.

It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? Nothing but buildings for miles, dreamy neon and plumes of pollution floating into the night sky.

Right now she wishes she could turn her body into neon and float across the city, leave behind all these stupid pointless feelings that have refused to leave her no matter how obvious it’s become that they are, in fact, stupid and pointless.

But she can’t do that. She downs all the shots in order to grab the bottle and fill up another row. Enough of them and either she’ll do something to distract herself, or she’ll pass out and both are functionally the same thing. No more thinking.

No more thinking.

[chaosheadspace]

Sequel time, because why not!

Hob's phone rings in the middle of the night. An unknown number. Tiredness makes Hob pick up where he should have just hit decline and turned back around again.

"Hmmmmmh?"

"Hob," an absolutely wrecked voice sobs against his ear. A voice he'll never forget in his life.

"Dream?!"

It was over two months ago since they'd slept together. Hob had called and texted a few times, but when Dream didn't pick up and never texted back he figured he shouldn't bother him anymore. After three weeks he'd deleted Dream's number. Sometimes the memory of his scent still vibrates through Hob's body, a sharp, hot feeling. 

"Hob, please help me. I know I didn't call you back and I should have, but -"

"Doesn't matter," Hob interrupts him. Dream sounds so genuinely distressed he'd rather not waste time on apologies. "What is it, sweetheart? Are you okay?"

"No." A cold weight sinks into Hob's stomach. "I couldn't get my meds, there's a shortage, and normally it would be bloody fine, but..." The rough grit of his voice alone should have made Hob realise what's wrong. 

"You're going into heat," Hob says. He's out of bed in a flash, searching for his pants.

"Yes," Dream says, "please hurry, please -"

"Are you sure you're ok with me helping you out?" It's a bit tricky to get on a shirt while still on the phone but Hob manages.

"I've thought about you non-stop for the past two months."

The next half hour passes by in a blur and then Hob stands in front of the door of the address Dream has texted him, holding a large duffel bag. Tendrils of Dream's high, sweet scent waft up to him from the bottom of the door, intensified and underlined with the thick musk of sweat. He knocks impatiently.

Dream answers the door in a bathrobe, face and skin flushed. 

"Oh thank god," he says, and slumps against Hob's chest, rubbing the top of his head against the underside of Hob's chin, marking Hob with his scent. Hob puts an arm around his waist and manoeuvres them both inside, never losing contact completely.

“I’m terribly sorry about this, by the way,” Dream breathes against his jugular, tasting. His tongue is as hot as lava, sending sparks down Hob's spine. The air in the apartment is thick and heavy, drenched with pheromones that sharpen Hob's focus and make his insides buzz. He drops his bag by the door. 

"No need," Hob says as he awkwardly shrugs off his coat and toes off his shoes, "glad I can help." 

Dream's fingers instantly dip under the hem of his shirt, pet through the hair on his belly, and start to open the buttons from the inside. "More like every need," Dream says with a choked off laugh. "Sorry, that was terrible."

Hob cards his fingers through Dream's hair and lets him take care of his shirt. It's better to keep him occupied.

"So," he asks, focusing on calming Dream's frantic energy with caresses and a low voice, "how long does this usually take you? I've taken a week off of work but if you need longer, I can do a few days from here on my laptop." He kicks his bag to emphasise. Hob has packed a few changes of clothes and other necessary things. He knew that once he got here, he wasn't likely to leave again until it was over. Dream and his own hormones would make sure of that. 

"Mmmh, normally about four days." Dream is rubbing his face all over his chest now, breathing deep. "Oh, you smell even better than I remember. The thing is - if you don't get off the suppressants slowly, they can have all kinds of weird side effects. So I've got no idea." 

"We'll make it work." Hob lets go of Dream for a split second to get something from his bag and Dream whines as if he'd kicked him. "Sssh, I'm here." He draws Dream close again. "I've brought condoms. I didn't know if you'd have any, and I figured getting knocked up wasn't the goal." 

Dream looks at him with eyes as big as saucers before hiding his face against Hob's sternum. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think - oh god."

"It's fine," Hob says. The prolonged contact with Dream makes his blood run hotter by the minute, the scent Dream had marked him with heavy in his nose. His heart hammers through his chest and he instinctively breathes through his mouth, tasting the thick, rich air. Hob clears his throat. "Are you - can we -" 

Dream has already been distracted from his own shame and is currently busy mouthing a wet trail into Hob's chest hair shivers in his arms. "Yes," he moans. 

Hob wrings the first two orgasms out of Dream while pressing him against the inside of his own front door. Then they slowly make their way through the apartment, Hob tugging along both a sleepy but still horny Dream and his bag.

Dream has the most luxurious bed Hob has ever seen and is immediately shoved into it by his owner who apparently has regained some strength and now has his way with Hob until they both fall asleep around noon, exhausted from being woken in the middle of the night (in Dream's case not having slept at all) and their following activities.

It's surprisingly easy after that. They spend most of the day plastered against each other, neither of them willing to let go of the other unless absolutely necessary. Dream watches over Hob's shoulder as he cooks, his arms around Hob's waist. They start eating side by side and end up with Dream sitting in Hob's lap, being fed tea and toast and scrambled egg until his hormones spike again. Dream's kitchen table is surprisingly sturdy, it turns out.

They talk and laugh a lot. They disagree wildly over what films or series to watch, so they make a better use of Dream's couch until Hob realises they have a similar taste in books (the shelf is standing next to the couch, in perfect view of someone who would, say, bend another someone over the armrest and make him scream into the cushions). After that, Dream reads Hob poetry, sitting in his lap or both of them sprawled out on the bed, the book resting on Hob's belly. Sometimes (often) Dream gets distracted. 

The third day is especially hard on Dream. He's fever-hot and not very coherent, unwilling to let go of Hob even for a second. The few times Hob has to use the loo he sits right in front of the door, sobbing. They spend most of it with Dream in Hob's lap, skin against skin, knotted, dozing off on Hob's shoulder while he checks his emails and catches up on grading. Hob can barely get him to drink some water, let alone eat.

On the evening of the fourth day, the heat begins to break. The glassiness of Dream's eyes makes way for something burning and sharp, giving Hob the impression of being very much at his mercy. It sends an eager thrill through his insides and Dream spends the better part of the evening riding Hob until he is the incoherent one.

On the morning of the fifth day Hob watches Dream wake up. It looks like he's pulling his consciousness out of sticky tar, his face shifting and twitching before cracking open one eye. He groans, stretches, and then slumps over onto his side, facing Hob. 

"Morning," he mumbles. 

Hob can't help but smile fondly at him. Over the last few days he has gotten to know Dream's body very intimately. Every inch of skin, every nook and cranny is mapped out in Hob's brain, the parts of him that smell best, the parts of him where Dream is ticklish, the parts that make him shiver when Hob touches him there. The wild, howling animal in Hob has wanted Dream for two months. The true part of Hob wants him since he discovered four days ago that Dream is terrible at making jokes and very good at making him laugh. Since he saw the take-out container from his favourite Vietnamese place on the kitchen counter and smelled the pork and rice noodle dish he'd ordered himself twice this month. Since Dream told him what his favourite film was, which Hob had intended to see half a year ago and found it so terrible he had to switch off the tv after twenty minutes. Since Dream had eaten his scrambled eggs and declared them the most heavenly thing on this earth beside Hob's cock. Since Dream had breathed poetry against the naked skin of Hob's belly.

"All good?" Hob asks him. 

"Good is a stretch," he says a little surly, but then his eyes twinkle as he visibly struggles to hold back another horrible joke. "God, I'm sore."

"Shower?" Hob suggests. He does not suggest coming with him. Now that Dream's heat is over they need to start at zero again, to renegotiate what they're comfortable with. If at all. The memory of similar pain shivers to life under the crystal-clear surface of his consciousness. Dream reaches for his arm, lightning-quick.

"Yes, but. I need - I need to apologise to you first." His hand is a comfortable lukewarm, his skin pale again. 

"You really -" But Hob gets interrupted again. 

"I really really do, though. You see, I get too deep into my head, sometimes." A blush of embarrassment spreads on Dream's face.

"At first I was. I was a little sad that you didn't- that you wouldn't-" He looks away and cards a hand through his ink black hair.

"But then I thought - what if it actually worked? And somehow that thought was worse. What if - if you wanted me? To date me? To move in with you? To -" Dream struggles to get the words out and barely succeeds. 

"To eventually have kids? To keep me at home? And -" he looks at Hob again, sincere this time. "By the time I realised I hadn't ever actually asked what you wanted, and that my brain had run away from me, we hadn't spoken in six weeks." Chewing on his lip, he watches Hob as if waiting for his final sentence. 

Hob watches him back for a few moments, before laughing and drawing him into his arms.

"You beautiful, stupid, marvellous, infuriating creature," Hob says into Dream's hair. "I'm gonna address this list of yours one by one."

Dream looks up at him, hopeful, his eyes a little crossed due to the proximity of their faces. Hob kisses his nose. 

"I'd very much like to date you. I don't yet know if I'd move in with you. You'd have to convince me you're willing and able to make allowances regarding the tv." 

Dream snorts, but doesn't interrupt him. Hob's voice softens from amusement to sincerity. 

"I have absolutely no interest in keeping you anywhere you don't want to be, and I am afraid I do not, in fact, want to have a kid. Again." 

Dream's eyes almost fall out of their sockets. 

"I had a son, once. He and my late wife -" Hob swallows. "They had an accident. Car."

Dream smiles sadly at him and pets underside of Hob's chin. "Sorry," he says softly. "For bringing it up." 

"It's okay. I wanted you to know, anyway." Hob continues, striving for a lighter tone. "And I'm afraid I have to insist on a dating period of six months before I put my teeth into that beautiful neck of yours."

Dream splutters. Hob doesn't know if it's the dizzying tone shift or indignation. 

"Six months?!" Indignation, then. 

"Let me put it that way," Hob tries. "Would you marry me right now?" 

Dream's face goes scarlet. He stays very, very silent. 

"Oh, you're a menace," Hob exclaims, "a terrible, terrible menace. In that case, I have to insist we wait six months for that, too. Insatiable creature." He starts to slowly massage Dream's strained thighs until they relax a little bit and he sighs. 

"Let's start with that shower first. And maybe a proper date next?" 

Dream hums and snuggles into his chest. "Only if you carry me." 

"To the date?" Hob laughs, and almost makes them fall out of bed as he tries to stand up without letting go of Dream.

Smarch day 25: scent

I made my own take on A/B/O which I don't normally write or read. Very soft. Have fun!

Dream's soft cries echo through the bedroom as Hob fucks into him enthusiastically. It had taken Hob one look at the omega to know, irrevocably, that Dream was his. The Disco hat been loud and crowded, and Hob could feel his blood sing from the second he'd stepped foot inside. He had excused himself from his friends and given in to the sweet, sweet call of pheromones. The second he'd locked gazes with a pair of blue eyes as searching as his, it was over.

Dream had sunk against his chest, content, elated. On the tube on the way to Hob's flat he had lovingly opened two buttons of Hob's shirt so more of Hob's scent would reach his nose. If anybody had noticed, they hadn't said anything. The genetic variations grow rarer and rarer, which makes coincidences like this all the more unlikely. People generally take the chance by the neck if they happen to stumble upon a match by sheer dumb luck. They softly spoke, exchanged names and stories and numbers until they reached Hob's front door, where Dream had put his nose against Hob's neck and moaned.

"It's been years since somebody smelled this good for me," he'd said. "Sorry, I'm a bit drunk on it."

Hob had curled a hand around Dream's neck, reassuring, possessive, and Dream had moaned again. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart," Hob had whispered into his soft black hair and fumbled with his keys. "Your smell is nothing short of an aphrodisiac for me and you know that. I know you can feel it."

Dream had plastered himself against Hob's side even more, burning hot through both of their clothes and licked the shell of his ear. "Hurry up then so you can fuck me, Hob Gadling."

Hob had sworn and almost dropped his keys and then shoved him against the inside of the door, sinking to his knees while almost ripping Dream's trousers off. Had buried his face in the wet mess between his thighs and drank from him until they trembled. They'd barely made it to the bed.

Dream shoves himself back onto Hob's cock with a wild moan. "How can I still want you even when you're inside of me?" He pants.

Hob is laid over his back, chest against spine, one hand at Dream's hip, the other interlaced with Dream's on the covers. It's the kind of close, animalistic sex that makes Hob want to keep going and going until he's wrung every sound, every ounce of pleasure, every possible orgasm out of Dream.

"Do you want me to knot you, sweet one?"

Dream slumps forward into the mattress and wails, the new angle so delicious it takes Hob all but two strokes to add his own hot wetness to the one between Dream's legs.

Dream whines into the pillows as he can feel Hob's knot expand inside him, and when Hob reaches down, he finds him hard and wanting still. So Hob continues to make small rocking motions, buried deep inside, knot tugging at Dream's rim.

Dream's breathing grows erratic. Hob can tell he's very much gone as he tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his neck. "Please bite me, oh God, Hob please, claim me, mark me, make me yours -"

Hob bites his lip until he draws blood. Pure want tries to force his jaw open to do as Dream pleads and bury his teeth into lily-white flesh. He mustn't. He mustn't. They've known each other for maybe three hours. He can't bite a claim into the neck of a stranger, regardless of how pretty his blood might sing for him. It's not right.

Instead, he clamps a hand on the back of Dream's neck to relieve some of his need for pressure there and picks up speed, his hips stuttering with quick, minuscule movements. Dream goes feral under him, squirming and moaning and tugging himself forward so hard Hob's knot almost pops free.

"Hob," Dream pleads again, half delirious and shuddering, "do you not want me? Am I not good? I wanna be good for you. Please, please, Hob, take me, let me be yours, let me, let me -"

"Shhhh," Hob says through the saliva pooling in his mouth, dripping down onto Dream's shoulder, "you are. You're so good for me. So perfect, wet and open. Dream, darling, it's all good, it's all good -" he buries his fingernails into Dream's neck where they both desperately, instinctively want Hob's teeth and Dream comes with a strained shout.

Hob can't help but imagine Dream walking around with a beautiful, days-old purple claim, Hob's claim, and the nauseating wave of want is so tall Hob comes a second time, drooling violently through gritted teeth.

After regaining some of his composure Hob carefully lays them onto the side, avoiding the wet spot Dream has made. Their bodies still locked together he draws the covers over both of them, burying his nose in Dream's delicious scent.

"Do you want me to -" Hob says, unsure, while squeezing Dream's hip. It's entirely possible to work an active knot out again.

"Mmmhhh," Dream rumbles, eyes half lidded, his body warm and pliant like fresh taffy against Hob's front. "Stay. S'nice. Thank - thank you for -"

"My pleasure. It's ok," Hob breathes against his neck, placing slow kisses there.

"Can I - M'gonna - hmm." Dream's voice grows heavier and trails off as he falls asleep. It's how it should be, it's what feels right, even if they both know that it's all just instinct and hormones and entirely possible to ignore. It's nice to give in to it, sometimes. Calming.

So Hob lays there behind Dream, whose first bodily instinct it is to rest after being fucked and knotted, and feels his own body buzzing with post-orgasm endorphins telling him to stay awake and keep watch, to protect. So he nuzzles his face into Dream's hair and does just that, still buried deep.

[etsuven]

when i started writing this a few weeks ago, i had work in like half an hour but i had to get this thought out of my mind. now it's september and i'm just now finishing it.

rating: smut warnings: none i don't think??? includes: dom reader ofc!! reader fucks him, so they can either have a cock or strap, though i’ll use cock for the whole thing, cursing, you do end up getting caught but not really summary: you haven't seen your boyfriend in a while, and the closet in that one hallway is looking quite inviting...

fucking scaramouche in a closet seems so shdjdjdjsjwjjd

pulling him into a closet that’s in a hallway with low foot traffic, watching as he glares at you until he sees the hungry look in your eyes. he tries to call you a whore, saying things like- “pulling me into a closet like this where no one can find us, how naughty.”

but you know he wants it too.

you push him against the wall, hungrily pressing your lips against his and reveling in the taken aback moan that left his lips. his hands grasp at your sleeves, pulling at the fabric for some sort of leverage. you hadn’t even been kissing him for that long, but he could already feel the effects in his shorts.

squeezing at scaramouche’s hips, you pulled him closer to you, smirking at the gasp he made once his clothed cock brushed against your body. pulling away for now, you attacked his neck, only planting little kisses and nibbles that would go away quickly. you’d make sure to mark him somewhere later where only he could see.

“i’m the naughty one, and yet you’re the one who’s hard against me?” you spoke, pulling his hips closer to you. he let out a choked gasp, his head leaning against the dark closet wall. “it’s your fault- should have never brought me in here!”

using one hand, you hooked a thumb around his waistband, pulling your lovers’ shorts and underwear down in one practiced movement. scaramouche hissed, surprised by the sudden cold air hitting his cock.

you moved the other hand to his cheek, grazing your fingers against his lips until he finally got the signal. he took your fingers into his mouth, making sure to coat them in as much saliva as he could. his violet eyes met yours, and you found yourself fidgeting at the feeling building in your lower stomach.

once your fingers were thoroughly coated, you dragged your hands down scara’s body, wrapping a hand around his cock for a quick pump before turning him around so he was facing the wall.

you reached into your pocket, pulling out a little portable bottle of repurposed slime condensate and opening it. your boyfriend looked back at you in disbelief. “you had that the whole time, and yet you still made me-!”

letting out a little chuckle, you popped open the cap. “you didn’t seem to complain about it.” and before he really could complain, you gave his ass a little slap, causing him to gasp.

coating two your fingers in the slimy substance, you placed your hand in between your boyfriends shoulder blades, pushing him down so he was bent over slightly. you then leaned in to whisper in his ear. "relax for me, okay?"

scaramouche nodded before looking away from you. he was trying to hide the steadily growing blush on his face, but there was no need for him to do so due to the barely lit closet. "i know how to-" he was interrupted by his own whine at the feeling of your finger circling his hole.

you felt him push his hips against your finger. honestly, it was funny- he reprimanded you for bringing him into this closet, yet here he was bending over like a whore. pushing your finger in a bit, you listened closely to his reaction. although scara was quite the brat who more often than not deserved what he got, you absolutely hated the thought of him being in genuine pain due to your actions.

"you okay?" you asked, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. your lover nodded, his forehead pressed against the wall. "you really think a single finger can hurt me?" he chided.

you smiled, nibbling slightly at the flesh and soothing the bite with your tongue. "i don't- in fact, i've seen you take more than this. i just care about your well being, okay?" you spoke softly, pressing your finger into him more before pulling out and adding a second one.

a whimper left scaramouches mouth at both your fingers and words. he hated soft moments like this with you. he hated how it made his nonexistent heart pound, he hated how it made his head and stomach feel all fuzzy and fluttery, and he especially hated how much he craved it.

"fuck me already!..." he whined. the feeling of your hands on his hips, your fingers in him- moving in and out and separating every now and then to stretch him out... it was all so overwhelming.

picking up the pace, you thrust your fingers into him a few more times before pulling them out. scaramouche whined once more at the loss of friction, grinding against you in a futile attempt at more stimulation.

taking out your strap/cock, you opened the bottle of condensate again, dripping a large amount on your cock and hand. you began to spread the substance around, watching in amusement as your boyfriend began squirming in anticipation. once the lubricant was thoroughly spread, you placed the tip against his hole, slowly pushing in as to not hurt him.

it slipped in easily, partially thanks to you stretching him out first and the lubricant. scara's hand flew behind him to rest on your hip in an attempt to get you to go faster, but you refused to do what he wanted.

after a few seconds, you were fully in him. soft pants were leaving your lovers' mouth, and his brows were furrowed as he rested his head against the small closet wall. you glanced at him, scanning his features with concern written on your face. "is everything okay?"

scaramouche nodded quickly, inhaling sharply at the slight movement you made. "y-yeah, 'm fine. it's just been a while..." and it had been a while. the young man was busy with a bunch of work for the past few weeks, so the two of you hadn't been able to do much other than a few make out sessions.

"sorry, i'll be gentle..." you placed your hands on his hips, squeezing slightly at the flesh before slowly pulling your cock out of him. scara let out a long groan, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle the last bit of the sound.

you did the same thing as you pushed back in, making sure to go slow so you wouldn't make your boyfriend uncomfortable. once you felt that he was finally used to the feeling, you began to move faster, pulling his hips against you with every thrust.

scaramouche tried his best to hide his moans. covering his mouth with his hand, hiding his face in the crook of his arm that was resting against the closet wall- anything to keep himself from becoming more embarrassed by the fact that you had reduced him to a moaning mess.

"you okay?" you asked, a smile on your face. you were obviously amused by how hard he tried to hide his reactions. scara halfheartedly glared at you, his eyes rolling back at a particularly well timed thrust before going back to normal.

"i'm fine, just- go faster, i'm close!" letting out a small laugh, you pushed down on his back, forcing him into a lower arch. you thrust in harshly a few times, knowing that you would end up hitting his prostate.

and you did.

scaramouche let out a loud moan, his eyes rolling back once more in pleasure. his free hand flew to his cock, and he began to touch himself in time with your thrusts. deciding that you would tease him a bit, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear.

"ah, i didn't hear you... mind repeating yourself?" your lover pushed up against you, his forehead brushing against the wall. his mouth opened and closed every now and then, and you could clearly tell that he was contemplating whether or not to speak up.

"ugh, i said 'go faster!'" well, that was rude. but you'd listen for now. after all, you were running out of time. you moved your hands around a bit on scara's waist, trying to get a good grip and angle. once you found that grip, you pulled out slowly, giving your lover a tiny break before what was to come next.

now, your boyfriend typically liked it hard. rough thrusts that made his body shake and his breath hitch with every thrust. he liked the feeling of being overwhelmed by you, not being able to tell where you would touch or kiss next.

you thrust in harshly, and scara let out a loud gasp in response. the hand that was not on his cock flew to his mouth. as much as he hated to admit it, he was getting close. fast. and he tended to get quite loud when he was close to his orgasm.

he squeezed his eyes shut, causing a few tears to escape. it was almost too much. your hands on his hips, the feeling of your cock going in and out of him, the thoughts in the back of his that warned him about being caught at any moment-

"shit! c-cumming!" honestly, he was lucky that you were holding him up by his hips, as he almost fell once his orgasm washed over him. cum spilled over his hand and onto the wall in front of him, only stopping a few seconds later.

kissing the back of scaramouche’s neck, you slowly pulled out of him. he let out a hiss at the motion, grabbing onto you for support. “come on, we have to clean up.” you whispered, cleaning up all of the things you had used. you reached in your pocket for a spare napkin you brought just for the occasion, wiping off scara’s cum stained hand and the wall.

your lover had since then pulled up his pants, and was gazing at you with a foggy look in his eyes, along with something else you recognized.

“you want a kiss?” you laughed as he looked away in embarrassment. you noticed that he always wanted to be kissed after sex, and it was something you absolutely adored about him. a scary harbinger wanting to be kissed and cared for after sex? how cute!

placing your fingers under his chin, you turned his head towards yours, giving him a quick peck on the lips. he flushed more, grumbling out a few complaints about wanting to leave before opening the closet door and letting light finally envelop the small room.

extra:

you were an inch out of the closet before the body of your lover stopped you. you took a worried glance at him, wondering what was wrong.

“oh? i knew i heard some sounds coming from down here!” the teasing voice of the youngest harbinger, tartaglia, echoed through the hallway. you could tell that scara was three seconds away from pouncing on the young man, so you made sure to hold onto him for safety measures.

“well, you heard wrong.” scaramouche growled. he took a few steps out into the open, and you took note of how he almost seemed to wince after every step. clearly you did a number on him.

you heard a bit of shuffling, which you believed was tartaglia since scara wasn’t moving at all. “is someone else there with you? there’s no way you were making that much noise by yourself! i’m not usually one to pry, but to think that you of all people were getting laid? now that’s a story i’m sure people would love to hear!”

scaramouche glared at his fellow harbinger, and the man seemed to get the hint that it was probably time for him to go. he took off into a sprint, and your boyfriend attempted to follow him, but his knees still seemed to be a bit weak at the moment from what had just transpired in the last few minutes.

“that fucking- i swear, if he tells anyone i’ll kill him myself!” you walked over to him, running your fingers through his hair comfortingly before helping him up.

you knew he wouldn’t kill the man, since if he did, his workload would be on him until they found a replacement. but if you had to guess, he would probably find ways to fuck over his missions for the next few weeks. or maybe even longer…

[azrielsbitches]

hanna & azriel's first meeting pt. 2

A/N: I've tagged part one and my masterlist so you can read more about hanna & azriel :) requests are open!!

masterlist

hanna & azriel's first meeting pt. 1

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

I had decided to sit next to Elain, who seemed the most fearful of the males joining us for dinner. Cassian sat beside me while Feyre sat across from Elain and next to Nesta, Rhys next to her and then Azriel, who was still staring at me curiously.

To be fair, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him either. Those wings… they were magnificent. But while staring at those wings, I noticed that he and Cassian were having trouble adjusting to the chairs.

“Would you prefer a stool?” I asked them shyly, but politely.

“It’s alright,” Azriel answered me and I blushed slightly at having him address me directly. “We’ll make do.”

I nodded and decided to focus on filling my plate. I wasn’t exactly hungry, but I knew Elain would insist I eat something. 

“Hanna,” Nesta said sharply, looking at my dress in disgust. “What is that on your dress?”

I glanced down and cringed. Cora, the woman I had helped give birth just an hour ago, had bled quite a bit. Birth was a messy ordeal and I hadn’t had the chance to change when I got home due to all the excitement. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I rushed out, glancing up at the High Lord, who sat directly across from me. “I helped one of the villagers give birth earlier… I’ll just go change.”

“It’s just a little blood,” Cassian chuckled. “We’ve seen worse.”

I glanced over at Nesta again and decided to listen to her, not wanting to hear anything about it later. 

“I’ll be right back,” I said and rushed out of the room, almost glad to be alone. The tension in that dining room was increasing by the second. 

When I returned moments later, having changed into a simple long sleeved navy dress, I could hear Feyre and Nesta arguing… about me.

“Why is she running around outside in the dead of winter, Nesta?” Feyre hissed at her.

“I can’t control everything she does,” Nesta shot back at her. “She’s an adult now.”

“Barely! She’s going to get sick again,” Feyre stated. “She gets weaker every time, Nesta… and she almost didn’t make it last time.”

“Last time we were dirt poor and had no money to see a healer,” I replied as I stepped back into the room. I flushed at having everyone’s attention on me. “I don’t want to live my life locked up in this house, Feyre… I’m sorry.”

“We can talk about this later,” she said after a moment of silence and I saw a look of understanding cross her face. 

I took my seat again and picked at the food on my plate, subtly glancing around at what everyone else was doing. I noticed that Feyre had taken a bite of the casserole and fought to hide her disgust. The other three didn’t seem to have the same problem she was having, Cassian and Azriel were digging in like they hadn’t eaten in months.

“Is there something wrong with our food?” Nesta asked Feyre flatly.

“No,” Feyre said as she hastily took another bite and followed it with a large drink of water. I tried to hide my smile from Nesta, laughing slightly at Feyre’s expression.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore?” Nesta asked rudely. “Or are you too good for it?”

The High Lord dropped his fork on his plate with a clang and I flinched slightly. 

“I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before,” Feyre responded. “Better, even.”

Cassian choked on his water and I had to cover my mouth to hide my smirk. Azriel shifted slightly in his seat. Nesta just let out a low laugh and I could see that Feyre was about to explode at her.

“If you ever come to Prythian, you’ll discover why your food tastes so different,” Rhysand said smoothly, trying to calm the situation. 

I hoped he was genuine in his invitation. Seeing Prythian, exploring, and learning from their Healers might be beneficial to the villagers here. And I could see Feyre more. Rhysand glanced over at me with a knowing twinkle in his eye that left me wondering if he could hear my thoughts. That small smile he gave me was wiped off his face quickly when Nesta interrupted again.

“I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it,” she said, looking down her nose at him.

“Nesta, please,” Elain murmured to her.

Nesta shifted her attention to Cassian, who was sitting beside me and I shrunk back into my seat to get away from her glare.

“What are you looking at?” she challenged him.

“Someone who let her younger sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing,” Cassian began. “Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died–died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make–and insult my people in the process.”

Nesta simply turned away from Cassian and the look of anger on his face was terrifying. 

“It… it is very hard, you understand, to… accept it,” Elain began. “We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered… Hanna was the one who found the bodies.”

I flinched at Clare’s name. I had been friends with her younger sister and I had been on my way to visit with Lilia when I came across her family butchered in their home. I glanced up with tears in my eyes to find Rhysand staring down at his plate and Feyre and Azriel staring at me.

“It’s just very disorienting,” I whispered to everyone.

“I can imagine,” Azriel responded with a small, but genuine smile on his face. I felt myself relax a bit at his attention.

“And as for Feyre’s hunting during those years,” Elain continued. “It was not Nesta’s neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her… and Hanna. Nesta and I both failed them.”

I bit my tongue, not wanting to make this any worse. But Nesta and Elain hadn’t helped much around that shack we called a home either. I had been the one to cook. I had been the one to clean. Not them.

“Can we just… start over?” Feyre pleaded with Nesta, gripping her arm.

“Fine,” Nesta hissed and went back to eating.

“Can you truly fly?” Elain asked Cassian and Azriel both. Azriel set down his fork, and blinked slowly as he stared down the table at Elain and I.

“Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind,” he answered.

“Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?” I asked him.

“It is sometimes,” he continued and Cassian nodded in agreement. “If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we’re out of swaddling.”

“I wish I could fly,” I gushed before I could stop myself.

“Perhaps one day,” he smiled at me. I could see Feyre and the High Lord glance at each other at Azriel’s response. I just blushed and sat back in my seat.

“Write your letter to the queens tonight,” Nesta announced. “Tomorrow, Elain and I will go to the village to dispatch it. If the queens do come here, I’d suggest bracing yourselves for prejudices far deeper than ours. And contemplating how you plan to get us all out of this mess should things go sour.”

“We’ll take that into account,” Rhysand said. 

“I assume you’ll want to stay the night.”

Rhysand looked to Feyre for her to decide. I looked at her too, wishing for her to stay just a little longer.

“If it's not too much trouble, then yes,” I grinned at her response. “We’ll leave after breakfast tomorrow.”

“I think there are a few bedrooms ready—”

“We’ll need two,” Rhysand interrupted. “Next to each other, with two beds each. Magic is different across the wall. So our shields, our senses, might not work right. I’m taking no chances. Especially in a house with a woman betrothed to a man who gave her an iron engagement ring.”

Elain flushed at that comment, but recovered quickly enough. “The—the bedrooms that have two beds aren’t next to each other,” she murmured.

“We’ll move things around. It’s fine. This one,” Feyre joked. “Is only cranky because he’s old and it’s past his bedtime.”

Old? Sure, he looked older than Feyre, but surely nothing terrible.

“If we’re done eating, then this meal is over,” Nesta said as she rose to her feet and left the dining room.

[spencersawkward]

omg I’m so excited you’re on here and taking requests!! do you think you could do something like baby Spence losing his virginity to a close friend & it’s like adorable, goofy, fluffy smut bc he cannot get over the fact that he’s actually having sex with someone

I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-- TURN IT UP!!!

on a serious note, i'm so glad you asked for this one bc i really wanna add a scene like this in the fic i'm working on rn. i'm v excited.

summary: when the secret of Spencer's virginity gets accidentally spilled in front of the whole team, reader goes to check on him.

word count: 5.6k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Spencer Reid

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fluff.

masterlist

hanging out with the team is easily the best part of the week. after spending days in Arizona with our focus entirely on the most recent case, my mind is practically ready to snap. I feel like I've been running on fumes, and when Penelope suggested we take the evening to hit our favorite bar, I was practically already out the door.

so now I'm sandwiched between JJ and Emily as we throw back our first shots of the night. my skin is already flushed with the elation of laughter, the pleasant thrum of conversation that surrounds us.

"that's bitter." JJ makes a face when she slams the empty glass on the table. I screw up my nose.

"why did we pick vodka?" I hate vodka.

"it gets the job done." Emily laughs. I shudder at the aftertaste that sits on my tongue.

Morgan wanders over, Pen on his arm while she totes a brightly colored pink alcohol. they're flirting as usual, but she pauses in her witticisms to grab my arm.

"we're playing truth or shot in that booth over there." she says to me, then gets the attention of the other two women. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"truth or shot? like truth or dare but without the dare?"

"Reid, is that you?" Morgan says sarcastically. I slug him in the arm with a pout.

"be nice." but I'm giggling. he loops his arm through mine and we head back to the table, Penelope already starting a new conversation with JJ and Prentiss as they follow. Spencer is sitting in the booth with an Arnold Palmer, sipping from the straw like it's his job. I slide into the spot next to him.

"hi, you." I smile. "I haven't seen you at all tonight."

he holds up his glass. "I don't really drink."

"that's fine," I wave it off. "I just meant I wanted to hang out with you."

"oh." he smiles a little. "sorry."

"no big deal. you're here now." I shrug and turn to Pen as she calls my name.

"I'm gonna order a bottle. that okay?" she points to the bar with a mischievous smile. glancing once at Spencer and his slightly awkward position between Morgan and me, I make a snap decision.

"you know what? I think I'll just have a lemonade."

"you sure? Jayge said you spent the whole plane ride back talking about getting wasted--" Penelope's words cause a blush to spread over my face. I cut her off.

"I'm sure. thanks, Penny."

she nods. "of course, sweet cheeks."

I focus back on Reid, who is looking at me gratefully. he would never say it out loud, but I know he feels a little out-of-place sometimes. it's hard enough for him to come out with us to bars; the least I can do is be a sober friend. I open my mouth to start a conversation about an article I read the other day when Prentiss speaks.

"okay, so... who's ready?" her voice, always so certain, carries over the table. all of us make enthusiastic noises of assent, and she grins as Penelope returns with an armful of glasses. Derek gets up to grab the actual alcohol, and then when we're all settled in, the game begins.

"the rules are simple: you tell the truth, or you drink!" the tech analyst explains. the stakes for Spencer and me are lower, but that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to hear the team divulge their secrets.

"I'll start." Prentiss doesn't even hesitate before she looks at Morgan. "Derek, are you still sleeping with that one woman from sex crimes?"

Morgan raises his eyebrows at the question, irises flitting between Emily and the rim of his drink. there's a slight smirk on his face; he knows what a player he is and he's okay with flaunting it.

"Ally? no." he sighs. "things didn't end well between us."

"what? why?" I ask, eyes widening before I look around at everyone. "who is this woman?"

"cool your jets, sparky." Morgan teases me. "only one question per round."

"I'll tell you later." Prentiss raises her drink in my direction and winks.

"uh, no no." Morgan attempts to stop her, but JJ interrupts him.

"speaking of things not ending well," she says loudly. "Pen, why did you and Sam break up?"

"well," Penelope sticks her tongue between her teeth as she thinks it over with a devilish smile. her lips are a ruby red tonight, bright against her pale skin and big eyes. "to be completely honest, he just wasn't... doin' it for me. you know?"

"like--?" Emily glances down at her lap. Pen nods quickly and I snicker. JJ looks awestruck.

"I thought it was going so well."

"it was, but..." Penelope seems to genuinely think this over before she speaks. "if it's right, it just clicks. and it never clicked with Sam."

"profound." I compliment, high-fiving the high-energy blonde. we giggle before she turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"oh, do I have a plan for you," she smirks. "tell me, Y/N: if you had to sleep with one person on our team, who would it be?"

"women included?" I clarify, my cheeks suddenly on fire. how come everyone got easy questions except for me? I'm really just biding time.

"of course." she nudges my shoulder. I mull this over for a minute. I could say the truth, but I don't think that would be the right thing to do. however ironic that is. given the situation, I do something which I have never been good at and which I don't enjoy doing: I lie.

"although all of you are catches," I preface. "I think I would probably pick Emily."

Prentiss almost chokes on her own spit as her head snaps to see my face.

"me?" she asks.

"low-pressure fun." I shrug, the stress of the moment rolling off my shoulders with the ensuing laughter of my team members. Spencer takes a sip of his drink and peeks at me from his spot before I focus my attention to JJ.

we go on like this for a while, our original plan of "truth or drink" really just turning into a game of "truth and drink." as our laughter gets progressively louder, our questions and answers get progressively more provocative. we get into risky territory towards the fourth round, and I can practically feel Spencer's discomfort radiating off of him. thank god everyone has been taking it easier on him with their questions.

that is, until Morgan hits about five shots and decides to throw him to the wolves.

"so, Reid," he asks. there's no malice in his tone and I'm sure he's not meaning to embarrass the boy genius, but the question makes me wince anyways. "have we made any progress on the virginity front?"

it's like a fucking pall over the table. Reid goes rigid in his spot, and JJ's protective eyes dart between him and Morgan. Penelope's jaw drops.

"wait, Reid, you're a--?" her voice is tender, not judgmental, but Spencer's cheeks turn pink and he looks at Derek with a hurt expression.

"not cool." he says, body shifting in my direction. his eyes communicate everything; without a word, I know what he wants. I scoot out of the booth, letting him slip by me to walk outside.

truly, I'm speechless. we all stare at his lanky frame push through the door, but nobody talks until at least fifteen seconds pass.

"what the hell was that, Morgan?" JJ asks.

"I thought everyone knew--" he throws his hands up. "I swear I wouldn't have said anything if--"

"why would everyone know that?" I feel myself get angry for Spencer's sake. "that's an incredibly personal thing, especially to him."

"that wasn't you, my love." Penelope's voice is soft, sobered by the incident that just occurred. the playful air at the table is officially ruined, and we keep glancing at the doorway like Reid will come back in and everything will be fine. he doesn't.

"I'm gonna go apologize." Morgan starts to get up, seemingly beginning to realize the weight of his words. it's one thing to ask about Reid's sex life in general; it's another to point out specifically the entire absence of it. Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered by most things, but this is different. my heart hurts.

we watch Morgan go, the women all looking at each other with worried expressions.

"I feel bad." Penelope says.

"y'know, Spence never told me that." JJ observes.

"he really trusts Morgan." Prentiss says what we're all thinking. Morgan has always been like a big brother to him, and being embarrassed in front of your co-workers like that can't be a pleasant feeling.

we sit in a relative silence for about five minutes until Morgan walks back into the bar. he pulls out his wallet and pays for the drinks, then walks over to us.

"I'm gonna go for a walk. do you need me to call you all cabs?" he asks. those dramatic brows are drawn low over his face, emphasizing his regret. I look between my friends and clear my throat.

"it's okay. I only had one shot about an hour and a half ago. I can drive everyone home."

"okay," Morgan sighs, his head turning briefly to the door before focusing back on us. "drive safe, ladies."

and then he's gone.

"you guys ready?" I start to shrug my jacket on. they all nod and we get ready to go.

...

sitting in my apartment later that night, my head is swimming. even though it's none of my business what happens in Spencer's sex life, I wish I could tell him that it's okay. nobody cares at all if he's a virgin or not. but I know it's still embarrassing.

I hate that I lied earlier tonight, too. I wanted to say Spencer's name when they asked who I wanted, because I meant it. we're close, and I will always love him as a friend. but I've also always wanted more.

nobody, not even any of the other BAU women, know about my crush. I didn't want it to get in the way, or for it to come out and ruin my friendship with Reid. he doesn't like me like that, and that's fine, but what's not fine is not having him as my friend.

he was the first person I really connected with when I came here, and I feel a little protective over him, too.

once the clock hits eleven, I consider calling. he’s definitely not asleep yet. Spencer is a night owl. normally at this time he'd be curled up with a huge book, reading impossibly fast.

when he picks up on the third ring, the air leaves my lungs.

"Y/N?" he asks, more surprised than anything else.

"hey, Spence--" I hesitate, suddenly not sure what to say. sorry Morgan told everyone you're a fucking virgin? “do you wanna come over?"

maybe if I see him face-to-face, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better. the words hang in the air, festering over the line until I'm just about to take them back, before he replies.

"y-yeah. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

my hands are shaking at my side when I open the door for the tall genius. he's still wearing his outfit from earlier, hair slicked back like normal. I've settled for my usual sweatpants and t-shirt winning combo. it's not like he cares.

"hey." I smile, trying to read his micro expressions. there are two possible outcomes here, knowing him: either he's going to be totally, completely over it, or he'll be able to write a War-and-Peace-length book on why he's upset.

"hi." he gives a wan smile and I let him into my apartment, closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch.

"I missed this place." he says absently, looking around at the mess of decor and case files. I snort as I recall the last time he was here. he wanted to borrow a book that I had, and we ended up watching an entire docu-series about homing pigeons. it was surprisingly interesting; mostly because his commentary is both informative and funny.

"it missed you." I anthropomorphize my living space, but the phrase hangs heavy. I'm worried about him. I'm always worried about Spencer. he turns to look at me, opening his mouth to say something. I brush past him and walk into the kitchen. "coffee?"

"sure." he follows me like a lost puppy, leaning against the counter while I pull out two mugs and get to work.

"hey," I pause for a moment to look him in the eyes. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-- about what happened... tonight."

"oh, that?" he scoffs, waves it off unconvincingly. "it's fine."

I raise my brows the slightest bit, never breaking eye contact. he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk about it. he cracks easily.

"it's just embarrassing, you know?" he says, staring out my kitchen window to alleviate his own nerves. I gesture for him to follow me back into the living room and I sit down criss-cross applesauce on the couch. he mirrors me, kicking off those cute black Converse.

"I don't think the fact itself is embarrassing, but I totally get why it feels that way. he shouldn't have said anything." I nod.

"like, that's personal. a-and--" he hesitates a moment, gesticulating wildly now. "and it's not like he's got any right! at least I don't go around with so many girls that I forget their names."

the thought of Reid sleeping with that many women is a little bit funny, but it also makes my stomach twist with jealousy.

"did he apologize?"

"yeah, he did. and he was drunk, I know." he rolls his eyes. "I'm overreacting."

"no, really, you're not." without thinking, I scoot closer to him and place my hand over his, which is sitting on his knee. I remember that Spencer is usually pretty averse to touch, but when I move it back to my lap, he seems a little disappointed. I wonder if he gets lonely.

"is it weird?" the question sounds raw, like he's mustering a lot to hear my response. I shake my head immediately.

"well, for one, Spence, I would never judge anyone based on their sex life, period." I chuckle. "and two, no way! if you aren't into having sex at this point in your life-- or ever-- that's totally your choice and you're entitled to it."

his eyes meet mine, pools of honeyed hazel that swim with a slightly amber shade. his face is so pretty, it's sometimes unbelievable to me that he doesn't get more action. bone structure that would make a sculpture envious.

"that's the thing," he licks his lips nervously before averting his gaze again. "I am interested-- I just don't-- well, I don't--"

"don't have someone to do it with?" I suggest with a slight smile. he nods, then clarifies.

"girls don't really seem to be interested in me."

I let out a laugh, unable to contain myself. his head jerks up to frown in confusion. I’m quick to amend myself.

"Spence, that's not true at all. you're such a catch! you're sweet and funny and way smarter than anyone I know. not to mention that you're adorable." I compliment, letting some of the thoughts I've been keeping to myself bubble to the surface. "any girl would be beyond lucky to be with you, sexually or not." Spencer blushes at my words, but the squirming in his spot tells me that it makes him feel warm inside. he smiles a little.

"you think?" it's genuine. he appreciates being praised, and it makes my heart flutter when he gives me that expression like I've made his night.

"I know." more of what I want to say rolls around my mind, unsure of whether or not I should admit it. but I think that right now, it'll only serve to make him feel better. "actually, I should tell you something."

"what?" he's curious now.

"when we were at the bar and Penelope asked who I'd be with... on the team... I lied."

"okay." he nods, somehow not connecting the dots. I guess it doesn't matter if they've got enormous IQs; boys are still clueless.

"I was gonna say you." the truth presses from the inside out, lifting a weight off my chest now that it's out there. even if he doesn't return that feeling, I'm suddenly glad that I told him.

"me?" he gestures to his narrow chest. I nod.

"yeah. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or embarrass you in front of our friends." I explain. he breaks into a grin.

"thanks." like I've given him something. I feel myself smiling as well, and then we're just looking at each other. tension that neither of us is willing to break. as much as I'd like to take him right here right now, he hasn't said anything about actually having sex or even about being attracted to me. for all I know, he could be completely indifferent.

"listen, Spence--"

"would you be willing to--" we speak at the same time, both of us stopping and laughing awkwardly.

"sorry, you go first." I offer, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"would you want to... um..." he scratches the back of his neck before his eyes meet mine. "try it?"

"sex?" I raise my eyebrows. he nods. I try to find the right response. that’s more assertive than I expected. my pulse is fast, daring me to tell the truth. "I mean-- yes, I would love to-- but are you sure you want it to be with me, Spence? what about a girl that you like?"

"you are a girl that I like." he says this like it's matter-of-fact, like it's obvious. my heart stops in my chest before it starts to hammer.

"really?" a smile makes its way onto my face.

"I thought you knew."

"no." I laugh. my chest is full of sunlight.

"well, you are."

there's a brief silence where I try to get myself back on track. he likes me, too.

"are you sure you want to do this?" I glance at the space between our bodies, which has grown steadily smaller over the course of our conversation. Spencer is watching my every move with an intensity that tells me he's nervous.

"yes." he's unwavering.

"okay, well, you've kissed girls, right?" I inch closer. he nods.

"one."

"oh, Spencer," I sigh contentedly. "I have so much to teach you."

right after I say this, Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it's only then that I notice his hand covering his lap, the erection that's forming beneath his pants. my eyes flick up to his hungrily.

"sorry." he apologizes.

"don't be." our faces are inches apart and he's practically holding his breath. "I'm gonna kiss you. is that okay?"

"yes." he replies immediately. I place my hands gently on the side of his face, admiring the softness and sharpness of his jaw when I pull him to me, kissing him with a suppressed desire. his mouth is soft against mine, a little anxious to move. after a moment, he starts to relax.

his lips part and I deepen our contact, tilting my head and keeping it mostly mild at first. I don't want to shove my tongue down his throat. our knees are touching and his hand hesitantly finds my waist, the other going to run through my hair. I sigh into him, his fingertips a new sensation that I adore.

Spencer begins to give in a bit more to himself, asserting himself in the kiss and slipping his tongue over my bottom lip. I almost laugh at how quickly he gets the hang of it. he reads my body language effortlessly, not even skipping a beat when I climb into his lap and lace my arms around his neck.

"is this okay?" I pull away momentarily. he nods.

"you're so pretty." an unrelated response, but appreciated nonetheless. I laugh and peck his nose.

"thanks." and then we're back to making out, his hands resting on the small of my back. it's nice. I could stay like this forever, just pressed against Spencer while my fingers thread through his soft hair. he's cautious with me, and it's innocent.

I can feel his boner, can feel from the eagerness of his kisses that he's trying not to bring up the fact that he's literally just throbbing in his pants right now. in order to give him a little of what he wants, I start to rock my hips against his.

Spencer whimpers into my mouth. I stop and look down at him.

"do you want me to stop?"

"no, god, no— never stop." he's mindless in his reply, already grabbing my hips greedily and trying to regain that friction. I shake my head with a chuckle, then resume my actions. he starts to rut up against me, groaning into our embrace while his hands get more adventurous.

I withdraw, breaking the kiss to straighten up. he doesn't stop the microscopic pushes of his hips. I bite back a smile, enjoying the friction, too.

"do you wanna take my clothes off, Spence?" I ask softly.

"y-yes." he replies, gingerly taking the hem of my top and beginning to lift it over my head. when he places it on the couch beside me, his eyes immediately fall to my bra. slender fingers run up my bare waist, his watch glinting in the candlelight. when he doesn't immediately reach to unclasp my bra, I grab his wrist and guide it to the clasps myself. he moves with a surprising ease, unsnapping the thing and grazing over my skin as he slides the straps down my shoulders. I can tell that he’s shaking a tad, but it doesn’t hinder him.

the second that he's discarded the lingerie, he looks up at me with moony eyes.

"can I... kiss you?" he looks at my bare chest. "here?"

"of course, Spence." I nod. he presses his lips to the space between my ribs, drags them up to the valley between my breasts. lingers, then attaches himself to one of my nipples. I sigh, throwing my head back at the way he moves intuitively, sucking and running his tongue over the peak. he squeezes the other breast, plays with the nipple and starts to acquaint himself with the curves of my body.

the whole time, he's straining against my core, rutting helplessly in pleasure. it feels heavenly, with that sweet face of his so devoted to making me feel good, that I nearly stray from the purpose of the experience.

"Spencer..." I breathe. he moans at the sound of his name, then looks up at me from his place sucking on my tits. his teeth graze of my skin and I buck into his lap, causing him to groan appreciatively. my fingers tangle in his soft hair.

"Y/N," he pulls away from my chest, his lips making a soft popping sound. I gaze down at him, a bit lost in the fantasies running through my head. he's a natural. "can we, um-- like, expedite this process a little?"

"expedite the process?” I repeat back to him, giggling at his formality.

"what?" his voice goes up an octave, but he's smiling. "you know what I mean."

"I really do." I lean down, pressing my thumb into his jaw and angling his face up to mine to kiss. while his hands curiously move over my body, I start to push down the waistband of my sweatpants. I break contact just for a moment to peel them off, and he releases a quiet whine. it's cute.

"come back." he says softly, watching as I slide the bottoms down my legs, leaving me in my panties.

"I'm back." I peck his cheek, climb into his lap again. "can we take off your clothes, too?"

"mhmm." he nods. his lips part when my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a torturous slowness. I can feel his eyes on my face the whole time.

"what?" I chuckle, peeking up at him for a moment before I pull his shirt open and run my palms up his chest, over his shoulders. he nearly shudders at the sheer touch.

"I just can't believe this is actually happening." he smiles in that way of his, like he's suppressing the depth of his emotions, with his brows slightly raised. I take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of him before me, his rapidly rising and falling chest, the smoothness of his skin.

"honestly?" I start to unbutton his pants, and he jerks up into my hand, blushing once he realizes the earnestness of his actions. I smirk encouragingly. "me, neither."

before I pull down his boxers, my eyes flick to his. "is this still okay?"

"Y/N," he groans. "if you don't do something, I'm gonna cum too early." he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment when my hand moves over his clothed erection, like he's holding on. "please."

"sorry." I release him from the confines. it hits his stomach and he waits for my reaction, as if he's afraid that I'll change my mind right now. but I'm definitely not going to. "holy fuck, Spencer."

"what?" he panics slightly, sitting up more. "is it not enough?"

"not enou--" I stutter, almost laugh. "no, it's plenty. I had no idea..."

"oh." he hides the pleased smile on his face, blush spreading over his pretty throat. in the interest of "expediting the process," I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and gently pump him.

Spencer's stomach tenses and he grabs onto the cushion of the couch with a tight fist, sighing.

"mmm..." he doesn't try to word his emotions, but I know. and I like that I'm making him feel this way, sharing this experience. Spencer and I are such close friends, I never thought we'd actually have sex. my assumption was that I'd watch him grow into himself, find a nice girl and treat her like a queen.

but here I am, spitting into my hand before jerking him off to prepare for what’s next. he’s throbbing, sounds coming from his throat.

"I'm gonna sit on it, okay?" I lean down to whisper in his ear. he touches my waist, my neck, kisses a random spot on my chest in the waves of pleasure that I'm giving him.

"o-okay." he mumbles, waiting for me to actually do it. and there's a moment of tense anticipation between both of us, when I sit up and pull my panties to the side. Spencer watches like I'm the only thing in the world, saving the memory of my body on top of his for later.

I run the head of his cock along my entrance, soaking him in the wetness between my thighs. I didn't realize how turned on I'd already gotten, and he lets out a quiet whine when he feels the evidence of how much I want him.

our eyes lock when I sink down. it's a new feeling for him, and the shape of his member as it stretches my walls causes me to bite my lip to withhold moaning too loudly. he whimpers, neck tensing and fingertips digging into my hips.

"o-oh." he sucks in a breath as I reach the halfway point. he's so big, I have to go slow in order not to overwhelm myself. but it feels good, too. like... unbelievably good. I grip onto his shoulders and my head falls forward into his shoulder.

"Spencer, holy shit." I moan.

"does it feel nice?" he asks, concerned for my own pleasure. I feel my chest flutter at the thoughtfulness of the boy wonder even when he's in the midst of losing his virginity, and I lower myself onto the rest of him.

"mhmm," I rest for a moment. "how do you feel?"

"like--" his breath hitches when I begin to rock back and forth on him. "like I've been missing out."

I can't help the giggle that slips past my lips, but then it quickly turns into a longing moan when he starts to thrust up into me like a helpless thing. Spencer is brilliant, but his brain cells go out the window when he throws his head back and begs me to move more.

I nod, raising and lowering myself until we reach a special pace. it's not fast or slow, just the two of us trying to stay in the moment while we hold on tightly to each other. I can feel the cool metal of his watch when he splays his hand out over my spine, the warmth of his breath while he pants against my shoulder.

he hits my g-spot over and over. my moans are torn from my throat by the burning of my lungs. it's like I can't breathe because I'm so focused on chasing the orgasm building in my stomach. and Spencer... I can tell he's almost finished.

the erratic nature of his jerking body tells me.

"I'm gonna cum..." he moans into my neck. "do- do you want me to pull out?"

"no." I arch my back and throw myself into the friction of our bodies. he stares up at me while I ride him, the merciless grinding of my hips because I just can't help myself. "oh my god, Spencer."

he notices how close I am and, in a surprisingly deft move, slides two fingers over my pussy to find my clit. the ensuing noise from me tells him that he's found it, and he begins to rub in quick circles. it's rough and hard, but that's exactly what I need right now.

"cum for me, Spence." I breathe. his free hand grips onto my thigh and pulls me over him, his own words unintelligible within the sounds of absolute pleasure.

"please." he begs for something I don't know, spills his seed inside of my pussy and holds onto me like I'm an anchor to this world while he peers into the next. the feeling of him spreading through my stomach, along with the reckless movements of his limbs and the way he looks at me while he rides out his orgasm, sends me over the edge.

"oh my fuck!" I collapse, grabbing his shoulders tightly and rolling myself down while he removes his fingers from my body. it's jarring, the intensity, like my normal functions can't respond correctly. all I can process is the tightening of my stomach, the pleasure between my legs, vision going slightly fuzzy at the edges. he moans when my cunt flutters around him, the muscles trying desperately to hold him here with me forever. I take deep breaths and slow down, my forehead dropping again while I start to remember my own name.

neither of us speaks. I think I'm still too in shock about what just happened, but in the best way. he keeps running his hands over my skin, then wraps his arms around my torso so that I'm pulled against his chest. I smile, kissing his ear before I finally break the silence.

"hi."

"hi." he's got a satisfied tone.

"do you need anything? water?" I ask, exhausted but realizing that this is still new for Spencer and it's my job to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. he nuzzles his nose into my clavicle and squeezes me tighter.

"stay here with me." there's a slight edge to his words. he's afraid of me leaving. I snuggle down, perfectly happy to remain. heat radiates from his skin, and I like the way it feels.

"of course."

we linger in each other’s arms, both of us coming back into the real world and holding on in an attempt to soften the blow. I just had sex with Spencer.

"thank you." he whispers into my hair.

"for what?" the smile on my face is lazy.

"for doing this."

"well, I really wanted to." I laugh. "so, I guess, thank you, too."

"you're quite welcome." his response is cheerful and then we're both laughing, the sound rumbling from his chest. "can we do it again at some point?"

"I would be happy to." I beam. the contented sigh that leaves his lips, followed by a slight sinking of our bodies down the couch in collective exhaustion, fills me with a joy that's quiet but obvious.

“I’ll last longer next time, I promise.” he says. I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks.

“you did amazing, Spence. don’t worry about it.” I press a few stray kisses to him.

I'll need to go clean up, soon, but it can wait a few more minutes. this is my favorite place on earth.

[arvinsescape]

Subspace.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for aaaaaggggeees, I actually forgot I’d written it 🤣, another different sort of writing and I hope you all enjoy (Please remember this is a work of fiction)! 💕💕

Summary: The first time Tom realises his girlfriend is stuck in subspace.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (Minors do not engage), talks of a dom! x sub! relationship, swearing, mentions of an injury.

Something is wrong with you and Tom can’t put his finger on it. You’re not yourself and haven’t been since last night. You seem almost out of it, as if you’re here but at the same time not.

“Shit.” You muttered out as you caught your foot on the edge of the couch and fell onto your knees. This is what Tom is talking about, you’re not usually this clumsy but this morning? You’ve had his heart hammering in his chest more times this morning than you have in the last year of dating.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom asked as he helped you to your feet, a complete look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost my footing.” You smiled as you flopped onto the couch. “Think my legs are still recovering.” You huffed out through a laugh.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot clumsier than normal.” Tom was concerned now, it was growing inside his stomach and he couldn’t shift it, he just couldn’t put his finger on what was going on with you.

“Like I say, I think my legs are still a bit shaky from last night.” You shrugged as you trained your eyes onto the TV.

You’d had an intense session last night, you’d had multiple orgasms and both of you had had earth shattering ones to finish off, the kind that knocked him out almost completely, how tired he was washing over him in an instant. It had been one of your more intense sessions in fourteen month relationship, although you had a dom, sub relationship it was never too out there. Orgasm denials, multiple orgasms, light choking, him tying you up were as far as you’d ventured so far.

**

Tom only grew more concerned as the day went on, especially when he walked through to the living room at 1pm and found you still on the couch. You were in the same position he’d left you in almost two hours ago.

“Darling,” Tom asked and you mindlessly hummed in response. “You’re meeting your friend in twenty minutes.” He pointed out and he watched as you picked your phone up and checked the time, panicking as you saw it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Lost track of time.” You said as you shot past him and upstairs. Of course Tom understood that anyone could lose track of time, it just happened. But you? No, you were the most organised and punctual person he knew, if you said you would be somewhere, you’d turn up ten minutes early, you didn’t do late.

You quickly rushed out a ‘love you’ with a quick kiss to his cheek as you practically ran out of the door. Tom found himself thanking the Gods that you weren’t driving with how you’d been this morning.

**

You came back a few hours later, rushing into the living room and practically throwing yourself at him. You were cold from the winter air and it made Tom shiver slightly at the sudden temperature change he was experiencing.

“You okay?” He asked as his hand came to the back of your head, your face stuffed into his chest.

“I missed you.” You sniffled and Tom was taken aback, this was normal when he’d spent weeks away from you, but hours? You were a pretty independent person, although you and Tom were extremely close, you were by no means completely attached at the hip.

“I missed you too.” Tom comforted as he squeezed you, you pulled yourself closer, making him shift so you could straddle him. Clinging to him as if he’d disappear, although you were a cuddly person by nature you were usually happy just cuddled into his side as you watched TV. 

“You did?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him, excitement in your eyes, almost like a child. Tom furrowed his brows, this was unusual, like he says, you’re an independent person, you were acting like you needed him to say it, needed him to reassure you.

Of course, there had been times where you had needed that from him, when the media or the fans had been pretty hard on you but as far as he was aware that wasn’t the case right now.

“Of course I did.” Tom reassured as he ran his thumb over your cheek and you leant into the minor touch, making Tom take your face in his hand. You seemed to be craving his touch, it seemed to be something you needed he observed over the next hour.

You stayed in his lap, whining when he stopped running his hand over your back or through your hair. Nuzzling so far into him that he was sure you were trying to get inside him, when he got up to go into the kitchen you’d trail behind him like a lost puppy. All of your behaviours making Tom grow more and more concerned over you.

In the last few hours you’d seemingly lost coordination of your body, lost track of time and now you were almost emotionally and physically needy. Not that Tom would ever call you needy, or mean it in a bad way, he just didn’t know how else to describe how you were being.

**

The last straw came when you were making a brew for the two of you, after spending all day seemingly trying to make him happy, needing confirmation from him that your actions were indeed making him so.

“Did I put enough milk in your tea?”

“Yeah,” Tom furrowed his brows, “why?”

“I can make you another if not.” You panicked.

*

“Did I get the right one?” You asked as you brought a blanket down from the bedroom.

“I never specified which one I wanted.” Tom laughed and watched a panicked look escape you.

“Well when you said a blanket you must have had one in mind, I can go and get it.”

“Darling, calm down.” Tom said with furrowed brows as he forced you to sit with him and trying to stop your panic.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That I’m not misbehaving.” You said through a panicked voice and Tom’s concern hit a level he wasn’t sure was possible. Misbehaving? You weren’t a child, you weren’t his pet.

“Baby, you do make me happy.” Tom said. “What’s going on with you? What do you mean misbehaving?” Tom asked and he watched as you shrugged.

“I just want to make sure I’m being good.” You shrugged as you settled back down.

*

Tom watched as you filled the cup in your hand, the water rising and before Tom could stop it happening, it happened. The water overflowed and poured out onto your hand, you hissed in pain as you pulled it from the cup, putting the kettle down as you did.

“Fuck darling.” Tom panicked as he instantly grasped your arm and shoved your hand under the cold tap.

“That hurt a bit.” You said and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit? Y/N/N, you’ve just practically scolded yourself.” Tom panicked as he continued to keep your hand under the cold tap. “Where were you?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know, I feel a bit,” you paused as you thought of the word. “Floaty,” you settled on.

“Floaty?” 

“Yeah, I feel like I keep drifting off today. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” You suddenly asked, eyes finding his.

“Upset? What? Darling, what is going on?” Tom asked as he placed both his hands on your face. You’d just burnt yourself and you seemed more concerned about whether he was upset than your burnt hand.

“I don’t know.” You admitted as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, making sure your hand stayed under the tap. He held for a few minutes, placing kisses into your hairline as your silent tears wet his t shirt. He pulled back after a while, pulling your hand from under the tap to examine it, he was relieved to see no blisters, that you were extremely fucking lucky and had avoided a trip to A & E.

Your hand was still red raw and had a heat to it so Tom grabbed a tea towel and drenched it in cold water, wrapping it around your hand.

“Tommy, I’m tired.” You said almost childlike, almost as you do when you’re in a drunken state. “I’m really tired.” You said again.

“Okay, I’m gonna go and grab some burn cream and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” He reassured as he led you upstairs and into the bathroom. Once in there he quickly applied the cream to your hand, he was thankful Sam had talked him into buying some, the chef in him reminding the family how bad burns could be. Once he’d dressed you, he helped you get into bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked as Tom was about to leave the room. “You’re not staying?” You asked in a small voice. Your behaviour had certainly taken a turn over the day.

“I can if you want me to?” He said and he watched you frantically nod your head. He cuddled you until you fell asleep and then carefully removed himself from the bed, careful in his every move not to wake you.

It wasn’t long before he was dialling his best friends number and asking him to come over.

“What’s up?” Harrison asked he plopped down on the couch next to Tom.

“Y/N/N.” Tom sighed and Harrisons brows shot up in concern.

“Has something happened? Is she okay?” 

“I don’t know.” Tom huffed out as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not been herself today and I don’t know what to do.” Tom admitted.

“How’d you mean?”

“Well for starters she spent most of this morning tripping over things. She lost track of time earlier on today, you know her, she doesn’t do that.” Tom sighed and Harrison shrugged.

“Maybe she genuinely did, we can’t all be perfect.” Haz laughed and Tom looked at him seriously.

“Haz, she’s been, needy. Like I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just out of character. She told me she didn’t want to ‘misbehave.’” Tom said and Haz furrowed his brows in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you guys like, you know.” Harrison started nervously before collecting himself with a deep breath. “Do you have a dom, sub dynamic?” He asked and Tom furrowed his brows for what felt that the millionth time that day.

“Yeah.” Tom answered carefully.

“And is she the sub?” He asked.

“Harrison.” Tom warned, he wasn’t one to discuss the ins and outs of his sex life with other people, he saw it as a private thing between two people.

“Just,” Haz sighed. “Hear me out, please. Is she?”

“Yeah.” Tom answered again, carefully.

“Have you had a session recently?” He asked again and Tom nodded in response, he was lost, what the fuck did this have to do with anything? “When you engage in your dom side, do you, you know, like ‘punish’ her for misbehaving?”

“Harrison, what the fuck has this got to do with-” Tom cut himself off as realisation dawned on him. You’d been a brat yesterday and he’d acted accordingly.

“It’s called subspace mate.” Harrison said.

“But this has never happened before? Why would it happen now?”

“It doesn’t always happen, sometimes it just takes her hormones being out of balance. Maybe she slipped into it and you never fully coaxed her back, would explain why she’s stuck in a sub mentality.” Haz shrugged.

“But I’ve done everything we normally do in aftercare, I’ve looked after her, reassured her.” Tom reeled off.

“Maybe she’s looking for her dominating partner to bring her back?” Haz suggested. “Try being more forceful.”

“I don’t wanna push her Haz, she fucking burnt herself earlier, completely on another planet when she made a brew.” 

“Maybe you have been doing without realising it.”

“What?”

“Kept her in subspace, you’ve coddled her. Made her feel safe, taken care of. Look, I don’t know Tom, every woman is different but it sounds like based on her behaviour, that you have pulled her further under without meaning to.” 

“Okay, thanks Haz.” Tom said. They enjoyed a good hour or so together, catching up before Tom’s phone pinged with a message from you asking where he was. Tom sighed as he read it.

“Try being a little firmer with her.” Harrison suggested and Tom nodded as he said goodbye to his friend. “Don’t beat yourself up, these things take trial and error and as long as you are both safe, happy and learning it’ll be okay.” Harrison reassured as he placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder before heading out.

Tom collected himself as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. Your eyes instantly finding his as you flew out of the bed and into his arms, he took a deep breath before his next move. Clearly he needed to change tactic, he just wasn’t sure which one you needed.

“Y/N,” he said as he pulled you back, holding you at arms length as he looked you deeply in the eye. “I need you to come back.” He said and he watched as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? I’m here?”

“You’re not, not properly.” Tom said a little firmly. “You’re still in that floaty place, as you called it.”

“No, Tom.” You laughed. “I feel floaty, I didn’t go anywhere.” You giggled.

“You did and now I need you to come back.” He tried again.

“Tom, you’re being silly.” You laughed again, “I’m right in front of you.” You said, “see you’re touching me.” You continued as you gestured to his hands on your shoulders. Tom didn’t miss your tone, your bratty tone, he changed tactic, eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What did you just call me?” Tom asked, voice demanding, the same tone he used when he was ‘punishing’ you in bed. He watched as you smirked.

“I called you silly.” You challenged and Tom hummed as he backed you into the wall.

“Are you being a brat princess? Are you sure that’s what you want to go with right now? You’re making it sound like you want me to punish you.” He said, lips close to yours as his breath fanned your face, your breath hitching as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to misbehave anymore.” You said and Tom looked you directly in the eyes.

“Then I want you to come back.” He spoke, voice laced in a tone that had told you to ‘get on the bed’, ‘cum for me.’ He watched as an understanding flashed across your eyes and Tom continued. “Come on princess, I need you to come back. I need my Y/N.” He whispered as he captured your lips in his own. “It would make me happy if you did.” He finished.

He watched as your eyes became less vacant, slowly coming back as he coaxed you out with well placed kisses and demands. It wasn’t long before your hand wound into his hair and Tom sighed in relief as his head found your neck.

“That was fucking weird.” You snorted, voice completely your own. 

“That’s never happened before.” Tom said as he pulled back to look at you.

“It was so strange, it’s like I needed you to be the opposite of how you are during aftercare. I just kind of stayed in subspace last night.” You rambled.

“You knew you were in subspace?”

“Well yeah, you’ve done it before but you always coaxed me out of it.” You admitted and Tom looked confused.

“What happened last night? Why didn’t it work?” Tom panicked, had he missed something? 

“Don’t know.” You shrugged. “I suppose you fell asleep quicker than usual and I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.” You said and you took in the look on Tom’s face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it happens.”

“But I missed it.”

“Yeah but you still kept me safe. That’s what this is about right? Having fun and being safe. Tom you make me feel so safe, how do you think I end up in subspace sometimes, it’s a different kind of pleasure. As a sub I make myself completely vulnerable to you and you make me feel so safe and wanted and the level of trust I have in you is off the charts and sometimes it just happens, sometimes I drift off.”

“Maybe we pushed it too far.” Tom said as he took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the back of your injured hand. “I couldn’t protect you from this.”

“Tom,” you sighed. “The burn was a mistake, you can’t protect me from everything. If you’re worried I regret what we did last night because of this then don’t be. I don’t regret anything we’ve tried and I trust you, okay? Remember that one time I used the safe word and you stopped immediately and took care of me?” You asked and Tom nodded.

“This is something that does take an element of trial and error, getting fully used to everything that can happen. You took care of me, you brought me back, Tom I trust you completely with me.” You continued. “I’ve never given myself over to someone the way I have you and I’m glad, I’m glad I get to experience these things with you and I wouldn’t change it or you for the world.”

“I promise I won’t miss it next time.” Tom reassured and you smiled as you kissed him.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[tootiredmotel]

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”