#he likes people who are passionate about things the same way he's passionate about music

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 4

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k words

Master List

“The only reason she didn’t smack you was because she broke her arm.” Gareth said before downing the rest of his soda and crunching it on the table. 

“I didn’t do anything to warrant a smacking.” Eddie said, crossing his arms. This had gone on for the past few minutes, where the guys had been hounding him about being seen with you and an ex-cheerleader. “I was a gentleman and carried her books to the cafeteria.” 

“She looked terrified to be seen with you.” Gareth was reaching for one of Jeff’s tater tots and yelped as his hand was smacked away. 

“So what else is new? Everyone’s afraid of Eddie except us.” Grant shrugged which caused the rest of the table to laugh before Eddie shot them a look that made them all shut up. 

It was a blessing and a curse being the Freak of Hawkins High. Eddie knew that most people were afraid of him here, and that’s what he liked. Having people scared of him, or at least apprehensive of him, made it easier to keep an eye on his club. People moved out of the way when he moved through the hallways now, unlike his first four years of high school when he was pushed around. 

Maybe it was because after that first senior year, Eddie had hit another growth spurt and looked more adult than most of the students. Wayne had once made a dry joke that if he cut his hair and wore a nice shirt for once he’d be mistaken for a teacher. Eddie had taken that personally and had spent his last few dollars on a metal WASP pin that weekend. 

Eddie knew he looked dangerous to the average student, and a criminal to the average teacher. When Eddie looked in the mirror, he just saw himself. 

“Did she say why she saved your ass from being expelled?” Dustin piped in, stealing one of Gareth’s tater tots while he was still trying to take Jeff’s. 

“No, but she said she fell to distract everyone over the fact that Miles shit himself during the pep rally.” Eddie deadpanned. 

“That’s the closest you’ll ever get to talking to a cheerleader, congratulations, Eddie.” Jeff said, with a mouth full of tater tots, finding it easier to shove them all in his mouth at once rather than spend the rest of lunch fending off Gareth. 

“Ex-cheerleader.” Eddie said without thinking. He wondered if Stacy blamed him for what happened. She didn’t seem pissed at him though, then again you seemed to dislike him enough for the both of you.  

“Exactly.” 

Quickly losing interest in this whole topic, Eddie pulled out his cassette player, removed the batteries, gave them a good shake and put them back in before pushing play. The rest of the club went back to talking about other things. As for Eddie, he had been listening to the same damn song for a week to get the riff right. With the rest of the club growing sick of the song, it gave Eddie an excuse to bow out of the conversation for a moment. 

He glanced back over at the table you were at for just long enough to see you and Stacy having a heated debate about something. What was it that got you so passionate right now? 

You looked frustrated, but you usually did when he was around. 

The rest of the day passed by at a snail's pace, with the days getting longer outside now and with how close he was to the end of the school year it was hard to keep momentum up. Eddie had come into this school year swinging, determined to pass those last few classes and get the hell out of here. But like anything that wasn’t D&D or music, the longer things went the harder it became. 

Senioritis was already bad, but for a 3rd year in a row? This was getting ridiculous. 

He thought back to this past summer where he sucked it up and signed up for summer school. Two classes over two months to show that he could count to twenty without taking his shoes off and say that Hitler was the one who killed Hitler and that gave him two shiny credits under his belt so that this year he only had to worry about Science and the PE class he had been skipping since middle school.

As much as it sucked, it was quick and easy and Eddie really just wished that regular school was as easy as summer school was. At least in summer school he was with the rest of the burnouts and future flunkies. No one there gave two shits about popularity. 

The final bell rang and he made his way to the parking lot towards his van. If there was one thing that his dad did right by him, it was leaving Eddie his van. His band and this piece of junk was his ticket out of Hawkins as soon as he had that diploma. 

Eddie passed the buses, taking the long way around as it was a surprisingly warm day for early Spring. 

His mind was distracted, wandering to the next time Corroded Coffin would practice- he needed to tune his guitar first, and check to make sure the amp was going to live to see another show, call Ronnie and-

THUMP

“Watch it!” Eddie turned and snapped as someone shoulder checked him as they rushed to the bus behind them. It was reflex, the past two years he’d dealt with this bullshit less and less and he wasn’t about to let it go now.

Eddie stopped as he made eye contact with you. You were gripping your arm and staring him down, caught between a snarl and a deer in the headlights. He met your gaze unflinching, until you blinked first and looked away. 

“Sorry.” you said before running onto the nearest bus. 

Shit. You probably hadn’t meant to actually shoulder check him. You had apologized, albeit reluctantly. If there was one thing he could give you credit for, you never went out of your way to be outright cruel to him. You just... didn’t like him. He could live with that for the next few months. 

Still, the sight of you running onto the bus stirred up the memory of the first time he remembered seeing you this past summer. You were always the first person on the bus in summer school. Guess that hadn’t changed. 

---

As long as you kept your headphones on and had a window seat, the bus wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You missed the freedom of being able to drive to and from school, stopping at gas stations for snacks or going to downtown Hawkins just to loiter around the shops. 

The first day on the bus was as peaceful as one could hope. Your personal mixtape was buzzing in your ear, you stared out the window as your peers were dropped off groups at a time at different stops. Some had parents waiting for them, some didn’t. You knew yours wouldn’t be. As soon as you hit freshman year, they swapped to the night shift deeming you old enough to take care of your own dinner, on your second round of summer school you saw them even less. 

Eddie was also held back, that wasn’t exactly a secret in the school and he could hardly pass as a pimple ridden teen anyway. That was also one of the reasons you seemed to gravitate to him. But while everyone knew about Eddie’s schooling history, having come to Hawkins late in your high school career, it allowed you a bit of extra discretion. Stacy was the only one who knew this was your second round of senior year. 

Your arm throbbed under your cast on the way home today, your face burning from embarrassment that you had almost had a nice conversation with Eddie earlier, but now he thought you shoulder checked him. You thunked your forehead against the window with a sigh. 

Eddie didn’t talk to you until the following Wednesday when the two of you were cornered by your teacher after the bell rang. You could see the look in Ms. Benson’s eyes what she wanted to talk about, but why was Eddie involved?

Ms. Benson handed Eddie his last paper, a C- scribbled at the top. Passing, but barely. Salt in the wound to you, and you looked down at your cast, picking at it. 

“You’re phoning it in, Mr. Munson.” she said. “I know that you don’t need this class to finally graduate but I don’t like mediocre work.”

You didn’t like that he was getting lectured when you were right there. Where was the decorum? The dignity? You wanted to crawl into the linoleum. 

Ms. Benson turned to you before Eddie could say anything. “You didn’t turn your paper in.” she said blatantly. She might as well have turned to Eddie and told him directly that you were a lazy dumbass. 

“I broke my wrist.” you said, more to the signature of Allie from gym class than to your teacher. If you had done literally anything else in class this year, then maybe that excuse could have worked, but you hadn’t and it didn’t. 

Ms. Benson took a look at you both and let out a long sigh. “I’m giving you both a chance to fix this.” she said. “I’m willing to offer you both extra credit to give you either a bonus on your final papers or replace a missing one.”

It was a good deal, a very very generous offer. Too generous-

“And what’s the catch, Ms, B?” Eddie asked skeptically. 

“I need volunteers for Spring Day.” she said. “You help with that, and I’ll give you the extra credit.” 

Spring Day was basically a free day where kids could either skip school or come for a slack off day. There were games, events happening at the gym, fields, and library, catered lunches, and plenty of ways to sneak off. 

“Sorry, no can do.” Eddie said. “I was banned from Spring Day. I have a hot date with in school suspension and you know how Higgins hates it when I cancel on him like that.” 

“I already cleared it with him.” Ms. Benson said, shocking Eddie. “As long as you stay away from the balloon pop booth.”

You saw Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. “I was framed, I swear.” 

“Of course you were.” She said dismissively. “So,I expect both of you to show up after school on Mondays and Wednesdays to meet me to help set this up. We only have a few weeks, and the budget is tight.”

Well, there was clearly no choice now. Just like that, you were now being volun-told to help with the one day a year you didn’t feel guilty about doing jack shit. 

“...Go away now.” Ms. Benson said, and you and Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. You turned tail and damn near ran out of the room. 

You were at your locked, struggling with the damn lock when you heard a voice next to you. “Do you think humiliation was also part of the extra credit, or are we just lucky?” 

Eddie had followed you to your locker, he was the last person you wanted to see after that. “I guess.” you mumbled, awkwardly shoving books in as you grabbed your lunch. 

You could handle feeling judged by teachers and your fellow students. That was the norm since you were a kid. God, Eddie was on his sixth year! Why did you care what he thought about you? Wouldn’t he understand better than anyone at this school what you were dealing with? 

You closed the locker harder than you meant to and Eddie winced. Shit. You had to say something to ease the tension. 

“...What did you do to the water balloons?” You asked, looking at him. Eddie smiled wide at you. 

“Allegedly I added some fun food coloring to the water.” he shrugged. “I didn’t think this school hated red and black so much.” 

You cracked a smile despite yourself. “It’s not exactly school colors.” 

“It’s not.” Eddie agreed, messing with one of his rings. His eyes darted past you, and you looked over to see Stacy walking over. 

“Eddie.” she nodded with a pleasant smile. Maybe too pleasant? No, that’s weird to think about your best friend. 

“Stacy.” Eddie nodded back. 

You had a weird feeling that there was a conversation going on, that you were in the middle of. You tried to shake off the thought, Stacy knew everyone. Stacy had a way of making everyone feel important, plus she was super pretty. You couldn’t blame Eddie for looking at her, and you tried to squash that glob of jealousy. Stacy was your best friend, she wouldn’t make a move on the guy you’ve been pining over. 

Stacy turned to you. “We’re sitting outside today with Nancy. She wants to interview me for the school paper.” 

“Wheeler?” you asked. “Uh, sure.” Stacy had so many damn accolades you didn’t bother asking which one she was being interviewed for. You’d read about it later. “Uh, see you on Wednesday, I guess, Eddie.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Eddie agreed as Stacy lead you away. 

“Wednesday?” she whispered with a glint in her eyes. “The second we turn the corner you’re talking.”

----

2 posts in one day?! Yeah lol. This fic is pure stream of consciousness so even I barely know what's happening. I have a vague idea of story beats bot otherwise this fic is always hot off the press lol.

Tag List:  @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

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@amieinghigh

[djljpanda]

Lucifer Morningstar X Fallen Exorcist Reader

Ever since his split from Lilith Lucifer has been a reck feeling like no one can love him, need him, or understand him again

You have been an exorcist for a couple of thousand years now being one of the best exorcists Heaven could ever ask for

But deep down you always felt bad for those you had killed feeling like yes Hell is for those who have done wrong but what about those who did the wrong things for the right reasons

So on the next extermination day you tried to run away from it all but when Adam found out he took it upon himself to kill you

You were able to get away before Adam could finish you off but nothing could prepare you for meeting Lucifer himself

For some reason Lucifer took you in and helped you out and yes you did come out to him about you being a “fallen angel” and your ideals on heaven, earth, and hell

Lucifer just sat there and listened and for the first time since Lilith someone understood him

Now at first you two became roommates in a way, mostly helping him out with his work, giving him duck ideas, being his bodyguard and secretary, and you did try to push him into talking to Charlie more but you understood on why he couldn’t do it himself

You did face palm as when he called her all he did was tell her to have that meeting with Adam, at least it’s a start

Charlie dose know of you but saw you more as her fathers secretary or his best friend, like an aunt, she is happy how you think there is a way to get sinners in to heaven and how you told her if she ever needs help or to talk to someone you are just quick call

Lilith dose know of you and you may have never seen her face to face she is happy someone is keeping her ex happy

Now if you ever get together it would be the best for the both of you cause I’m sure you would want to confess first but with the thoughts of you killing his people and Lilith, it just made you hesitant but with a simple duck jester (making a duck quack an “I love you”) Lucifer confessed his feelings to you

Charlie I think would be happy for her dad to have found someone and yes at first she did see you as her aunt but she is happy to call you her step parent sand she isn’t afraid of telling everyone that either

That’s one of the major reason on why Lucifer likes you, his daughter loves you like a parental figure

This Lucifer is just a sad boy so if you just sit there and cuddle him he would love you forever and if add words of praise he is just melting

Definitely will vent to you cause he is that comfortable around you and he is happy that you feel the same way when you vent

You always support his duck creations and yes late nights would consist of you two role playing with the ducks, when you two started dating he made three duck versions of you, him, and Charlie all matching clothes sitting next to each other, this man had a whole collection of duck versions of you and he was embarrassed when you found out but you called it cute

When extermination day hits he could see how tense you get and when you told him on what happened before he found you he couldn’t help but hate Adam more and so every Extermination day Lucifer would hold your hand and comfort you may even play a little music and it just grew more loving when you two started dating

You do help out with Lu Lu World as it’s one of Lucifer’s passion projects and no one could believe how upset you were when Mammon created Loo Loo land, you almost put your exterminator skills to use but Lucifer stopped you and let Mammon have his way cause he didn’t want to argue with Mammon so you just had to let it go

You both do play music together as when you were both angels all you did was play music, duets and you can’t tell me you, Lucifer, and Charlie didn’t sing together once

You remember seeing Lucifer’s wings for the first time and how amazed you were as you kept complementing him and that just made his face all red and what made you stop was when he commented o how your wings could have been more pretty then his, you just smile at him

Now here you two have more of a bodyguard/ secretary and famous person kind of relationship even though he may not need it he likes keeping you around and that just help made his feelings grow for you

[itaipava]

— things f1 boys do that make people think you’re dating.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

the way he always looks at you when he makes a joke; he loves your laugh and he loves knowing that he is often the reason for it, so he always tries his best to make you smile and feel happy around him. there’s no better feeling than making some comment or stupid joke and knowing that you liked it and laughed, that you share the same brain cell as him, makes him extremely happy and warm inside. he looks at you with a smile on his face, eyes shining as your laughter fills his ears like music. and he can’t hide his emotions, which makes everyone around look at the two of you, a sly smile on their faces.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

the way he smiles when you walk into the room; he always instinctively looks for you when he arrives somewhere; his gaze darts to all the people there and he feels a slight sadness invade his heart when he doesn’t see you. but he’s patient and while he’s talking to his friends or listening to them tell a random story, he’s staring at the front door waiting for you, and, when you finally arrive, he’ll stop anything he’s doing just to go to you and his smile is priceless with a happy, anxious gleam in his eyes. he greets you with a kiss on the forehead and wrapping you in a hug before taking your hand and leading you closer to his friends.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

the way he takes care of you in little ways; he always accompanies you home and only leaves when he makes sure you are safe, he always offers you his jacket when it starts to get cold or else you are wearing skirt/dress and will sit down. he always protects your body with his in crowded places. he takes care of you with so much love and affection that it always makes your heart melt in your chest and the pure smile and look you give him makes everyone around you think that you are together, especially when he pulls you to him and kisses your head.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

the way he looks at you; when you are in a place with many people, he likes to admire you from afar; watching your smile and seeing you having fun makes his heart warm in his chest because your happiness is his happiness. he always keeps an eye on you and sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just notices he’s staring a little too hard when you snap your fingers in front of him or smile amusedly at him.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

the way he always talks with or about you; when you start talking, all his attention goes to you; he memorizes everything you said, all your mannerisms and quirks and he honestly could spend all day listening to you talk, gently pulling a lock of your hair and tucking it behind your ear just so he can see you better. and when you’re not around, he always thinks of you; especially when someone starts talking superficially about people they like or think it’s hot, and he always mentions your traits when someone asks him what’s his ideal type. he is also always the first to defend you if someone dares to say something bad about you; to him, you are the most amazing and flawless person ever, and he is not afraid to say that to anyone who will listen.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the way he is chivalrous with you; he always opens doors for you, gives you his jacket at the slightest sign of cold, walks on the side of the road to protect you, leaves you the last bit of food, and even sends you flowers at your work or school. he does all this with love and genuineness, you know he is affectionate and wants to make you feel appreciated and loved, but whoever looks at you two on the street, surely thinks you two are dating because of the way he shows love for you; it’s totally unique and passionate.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

the way his actions become warmer and softer towards you; he does things for you that no one expected him to do like reserve a seat for you, share the blanket with you on the couch during a movie night with friends, give you flowers, and even go to the shopping with you, even if it means he’ll carry your purse and bags or sit in the same store for hours while he waits for you. he has so much love for you and everyone who sees him knows he is eager to give you his heart.

[littlemsshoney]

Hannibal falling in love

It is ridiculous how wrapped around your little finger he was.

From the first moment he laid eyes on you he found his new fixation. Every time you were in the same room with him his gaze was fixed on you, observing silently every detail, getting to know you before you were even introduced.

Of course he would be very careful, almost suspicious of any new person being added to his social circle. For a man obsessed with his social image he had to be cautious of any potential competitor and you were just lovely. So charming, well educated, funny, and polite.

He found you unusually enchanting. Of course he recognised your beauty but there was something less superficial about you that just pulled him in.

The feeling was known to him yet very rare as it never seemed to have a happy end. He knew he tended to be quite intense with his emotions and that never ended well so he promised himself it wouldn’t be that way with you.

It wasn’t long till you happened to be invited to the same dinner parties through common friends. How could he not observe you when you were sitting opposite of him only a few centimetre out of his reach? Every time you happened to talk he found the perfect opportunity to study you, the way you spoke, the way you smiled, the faces you made when you found something funny, stupid or ridiculous. You tried to be discreet not to offend anyone but he noticed, he noticed and he loved every expression your precious face made.

If you happened to sit next to him he would already know what perfume you wore, what scented shampoo you used everything. (And he wouldn’t mind doing some personal research about you beforehand)

With every joke of yours he found himself truly laughing and when you spoke his inner monologue quietened and he didn’t have to pretend to be listening because he actually did.

For a man like him who spent most part of his life stuck inside his head, building fortresses against the cruelty of people you quickly broke down everything while having him feeling so comfortable and at ease with you. You had him hooked.

Of course he noticed the way other people looked at you. Women and men with their envy and lust and he wouldn't be jealous if he only knew you were his.

During his sessions he found himself unable to focus on anything, his mind just replaying every conversation you two had over and over like a broken radio. Almost every night he was awake at the most unholy hours, his mind unable to rest and stop thinking about you. That was when he knew it was inevitable.

His insomnia and love for you he treated with writing love letters and sonnets, making sketches and drawings of you as he imagined you, all of them hidden and locked in the drawer of his office and his heart too.

Now not only were you dominating his every through but his whole life too.

He would take notes into his head of your interests and would say all the perfect things to keep you interested. What were your hobbies? Art, literature, music he would become an expert for you. He knew everything from Taylor Swift's latest album to the full analysis of your favourite poem. He would do and learn about anything you liked and was passionate about, just to keep you talking to him with that sparkle in your eyes. He could do it for hours, days and every minute for the next of his life.

I hope you don’t share your affections with anyone special because if he found out which he would, they would be the next missing person in town or worse.

When you became used to him and you got to know each other better he found his chance to invite you to one of his special dinners. Only that one would be even more special as you would be the only guest hence having his sole interest. He had one whole evening to amaze you with his culinary skills, deep, meaningful conversations about art, philosophy and life. At the end of the night he had you feeling it too.

And when the time came and you became his you and the whole world would see just how smitten he is.

He laughed with every joke, he listened to you carefully and everytime your name was mentioned he couldn't help but smile. Any little things that caught your eyes you would have and if you asked for the moon itself he would find a way to give it to you.

He didn’t mind, he actually loved it. That was love for him. He wanted to be your loyal servant and your beloved and feared god all at once. Could you give him this and he would give you the world.

If you didn’t however return his affections or god forbid you betray him that would be a very different and tragic(for you) story.

[leth-writes]

Bruce Wayne

• Bruce is incredibly awkward. Anyone who is able to effortlessly understand his looks and quiet grumbles will get along great with him.

• He tends to prefer quiet personalities, especially with so many loud members of the family and constant chaos

• his favorite thing to do with you is to read quietly together in the living room, or to work in his office with you on the couch quietly doing your own thing.

• Yet, Bruce can be really stubborn; don't be afraid to call him out on any decisions you don't agree with, and remember to stand up for yourself. He sometimes forgets to listen to other people. If all else fails, call Dick; he's great at arguing with Burce, and he's always willing to stick up for a friend.

Dick Grayson

• Dick may seem boisterous and confident, but he's secretly always stressed about his loved ones. He'd connect best with someone who can match his energy and ease his worries.

• He also clicks really well with someone who isn't afraid to take charge, and enjoys being able to relax and let someone else be in control.

• As a gymnastics teacher, he'd love to show you some moves! Don't worry about your level of flexibility, he just wants to spend time with you (and he thinks you look cute when you're focused)

• Dick loves stretching and doing yoga together, but he also loves watching trashy reality television together and shouting at the screen

• visits his parents' graves and tells them about you. He's sure they would've loved you. He struggles knowing you'll never meet them, so showing any interest in his past is a surefire way to get him emotional

Jason Todd

• Jason is a firey personality and, like Bruce, would connect really strongly with someone who can appeal to that quieter side of him

• Jason's a secret bookworm at heart. Show interest in Jane Austen and you'll never know peace again.

• Loves watching Pride and Prejudice together and crying.

• He's got a sensitive heart and secretly enjoys taking care of people, so please let him feed you plenty of sweets

• Tell him your favorite foods and he'll make them for you all the time

• If there's a recipe you enjoyed from your childhood or any ingredients that're hard to find, leave it to him and Alfred; they'll surprise you on your birthday with a dish so good you'll tear up.

• Jason loves baking together, even if you're just sitting on the counter and quietly joking as he does all the work

Tim Drake

• Tim is a workaholic, and loves it when you both sit in the same room and do your own things.

• Please express interest in his photos. Please.

• The best way to distract him from his work is to get him hooked on a new true crime documentary or an episode of a show like Criminal Minds; he's obsessed with figuring out who the killer is and won't be able to focus on wearing himself out.

• If he's struggling to get to sleep, cuddling together is the best way to get him knocked out in minutes. He sleeps like the dead, so don't be worried if you can't wake him up.

• If you see him sleeping somewhere weird, like in the hallway or halfway down the stairs, call Jason to come get him and put him to bed. He'll grumble, but he'll do it/

Cassandra Cain

• Cass loves someone who can just get her, even without words. As someone who communicates mostly through sign language, but mainly through body language, she'll love someone who's more talkative. She hates the quiet, because it reminds her of her time before she found the Waynes.

• She loves dancing together, even if you're clumsy; she'd love to slow dance to some romantic classical music.

She also loves listening to you rant about what you're passionate about, and will always express interest and ask you to keep talking.

[majestyeverlasting]

Just Another Friday Night

This piece contains 18+ content and explores the idea of Eddie as a soft dom.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's been your best friend since fifth grade. And on a night you think is going to pass just like any other, you realize you can't keep running from the way you feel.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I hath returned. So excited to finally have this one out for you guys! Hopefully the person who requested this many moons ago is still somewhere in my orbit.

As soon as Eddie feels the pad of your finger meet the skin of his cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. It brings small lines to the corners of his eyes and reveals the glint of his teeth in the dim light. Concentration sparkles in your eyes like water does beneath the moon. 

Both of you are seated on his messy bed. Him with his legs falling over the edge, and you angled towards him with your legs crossed. His breaths are steady, fingers lax from no longer strumming the strings of his guitar. 

When you finally manage to collect the fallen eyelash from his cheek, you hold out your pointer finger for him to see. If you’d been focussed on the song he was playing rather than studying his face, you never would’ve noticed the tiny hair to begin with. 

“M’kay.” His eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Now what?” 

You raise your finger closer to his lips. “You’ve got a wish to make.”

If there was anyone deserving of one, it was him. It had been almost a year since he crawled out of the Upside Down by the skin of his teeth. Half alive. You remembered all the long nights you’d spent by his hospital bed as he recovered.  

An air of weightlessness washes over both of you after Eddie blows it off your finger. As if somewhere far away, the course of time and happenings shifted in his favor.

“You can finish your song now. Sorry.” Smiling shyly, you tuck your hands into your lap and wiggle to get comfortable.

He smiles wider, but makes a quick work of tampering it back down. 

When he begins playing, you make sure to focus this time, letting the music soak in and flow through you. The passion is palpable, along with the underlying sense of purpose that hangs off the tail end of each resonant note. 

You’d been around to listen to him since the days he played off-tune chords with unsteady hands. As he sat playing now, hair curtained around his face, you knew he could easily captivate thousands if given the chance. 

As the song winds to an end, he looks at you and his fingers slow as the notes dissolve between you. The only thing left for you to do is applaud. Your approval makes him feel like there’s electricity buzzing beneath his veins. 

He absentmindedly strums a few quiet notes to keep his fingers busy, eyes remaining on you. “You’re the first person to hear it all the way through.” 

“Really? I loved it.” Honesty drips like honey from your words. 

He looks down to the fingerboard so you don’t see the faint flush of his cheeks. “Thanks. Lotta practice.”  

When he stands to hang his guitar back on the wall, you watch the way his shoulder blades shift under his t-shirt. You don’t mean to look as hard as you do. There was something captivating about the way he moved. Some days, he couldn’t sit still, but there were also nights like this one where he seemed to have embodied the very essence of ease. 

“So are you gonna add it to your setlist?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making sure Sweetheart is mounted securely. 

“Maybe after I’ve cleaned it up a bit,” he says. “The turnouts have been sick lately.” Gratitude glints in his eyes as they meet yours. 

Playing in front of a crowd at The Hideout was incomparable to selling out a venue like The Garden. But Eddie swore the gratification felt the same. With each new show, it’d been getting harder to find you in the crowd because of how many people had finally started giving him and the boys a chance. He never thought that locating you amid a sea head-bobbing bodies would be a pleasure he ever had. 

“Will I be getting a raise for spreading the word?” You tilt your head and bite back a smile.

He plays along as easily as breathing, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms. “You already eat my snacks, steal my jewelry, and make me drive you around,” he lists. “I don’t know what else there is to offer you, but it sure as hell won’t be Benjamin’s.” 

You have the nerve to blink up at him like a fawn. “It’s not my fault you hardly tell me no.” 

You make it easy to say yes a million times over. Again and again. 

There’s nothing for him to quip back with, so he sighs and studies you for the umpteenth time that night. There’s something amused about the glimmer in his eyes, but a fondness there as well. You’re wearing soft pants and a baggy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that only you can manage. 

Guilt wastes no time prickling beneath his skin when you curl in on yourself a bit, self-conscious. You’ve never grown used to the way he makes you feel so seen. Part of you fears he can see right through to feelings you’ve been fighting to keep tucked away. 

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his eternally disheveled hair. 

“Maybe I should get better about that then,” he decides. “Start telling you no more often.” A lighthearted smile pulls at his lips. 

You look over at his alarm clock so you don’t drown within the increasing warmth of his umber eyes. You’re not ready to fall even though that’s what it feels like you’ve been doing for so long. 

He bites his lip in preparation for the weight of his next words, “I’ve been meaning to tell—“ 

“My folks are expecting me back by ten.” It’s the first thing you can think to say despite the fact that they hardly ever give you curfews. “I forgot to mention it sooner.”

“Oh.” He glances to his nightstand to scrutinize the red numbers glowing on the clock. Disappointment swells within him and makes him fidget. “How the hell is it almost ten already? Thing’s gotta be broken.” 

He pats the top of the device as if the right time was suddenly going to appear. “You can’t say for ten more minutes?” You shake your head apologetically. “How ‘bout five?” Another head shake. “Fuck—a minute thirty?” 

A laugh bubbles up your throat, making a helplessly gooey feeling melt down the walls of his chest. 

All too soon, with no success in convincing you, he’s walking you out to your car. 

The night’s chill nips at both of you without reprieve. You hug your arms and break into a jog to escape it faster, leaving Eddie slowly striding behind you in hopes of prolonging his last few moments with you. 

He watches you hop inside your family’s old station wagon and give the engine stuttering life. The headlights are soon to follow, illuminating a cluster of jittery moths. 

The feeling of his stare boring into the side of your face through the window makes you give into the urge to crank it down, handle squeaking faintly along with your movements. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” He huffs out a chuckle. “Where am I supposed to look? Up?” He tips his head backwards, and his demeanor immediately shifts. “Hey, the stars are out.” 

You peer through the windshield to see for yourself. Sure enough, countless of them shine like dull guardians miles and miles above lonesome Hawkins. They seem to span forever in every direction. The child in you looks for any surges of brightness or streaks that would indicate a shooting star. 

“The view’s better out here.” There’s a persuasive lilt to his voice. 

You don’t dare get out of the car. If you do, you wouldn’t make it home at all. It was getting too easy to be in his presence, like he was the bread and you were the butter that helplessly melted on top because you knew it’s where you belonged. 

“I really gotta go, E.” You swallow the sadness that wants to color your words as you buckle your seatbelt and settle back into the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He kicks at a cigarette butt on the ground, and nods. You were always within arms reach, yet lightyears away. 

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Copy that.” 

A silence settles between you. The only sounds that prevail are the hum of your car engine, crickets, and muffled peels of laughter carrying from a few trailers down. 

Every time, it was you who pulled away at the eleventh hour before the dawn of something new. 

“Good night, Eddie.” 

•••

The cash register snaps closed with a resonant clamber. A beat later, you’re reaching out to take your change from the middle-aged lady thoughtfully chewing a piece of pink bubblegum behind the counter. The two of you are the only souls in the store. Humming freezers and a quiet instrumental soundtrack fill the air. 

She speaks up as you turn to leave, “You alright there, sweetheart?” 

“Just tired.” You sheepishly raise the bag carrying the Melatonin you’d purchased. 

Even God knew you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep on your own tonight. You’d lie awake thinking of all the reasons why you should’ve stayed. 

You take the time to read her name tag then: Irene. 

Her frown is sympathetic. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Warmth rushes to your cheeks. She then leans onto the counter and you feel compelled to take a step closer. “What’s his deal?” She studies your face for any hints before asking a different question, 

“What’s your deal?”  

You shrug lamely, and Irene tilts her head. You don’t owe her an answer, but you can’t help but feel as though you need to hear it for yourself. 

“I’m scared.” 

“It’s okay to be scared.” She blows a bubble and it pops neatly without sticking to her lips. “But it’s up to you to decide if you wanna be scared forever.”

•••

Eddie’s staring up at the ceiling when a faint series of knocks sound at the front door. Instead of moving, he blows out another cloud of smoke and watches as it dissipates into a thin haze in the air. The breeze entering through the cracked window helps filter it out. It isn’t until the knocks get louder that he’s convinced his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. 

What he’s not expecting is for you to be standing at the door. 

“Hi,” you say softly. 

He doesn’t dare question his luck. “H-Hey.” Eddie lowers the joint from between his lips and turns away from you to quickly exhale. “Tonight, uh, doesn’t count.” 

He was supposed to be taking a break from smoking, and you’d promised to help keep him on track. But now, as he stood doing just that for the first time in two months, it wasn’t the joint that captured your attention. It was the reason why, the conflicted look in his eyes that the pungent haze failed to mask. 

His next words get cut off with a cough, and he doesn’t bother trying to say them again. 

You're met by warmth when he motions you inside. Guilt tries to convince you that you don’t deserve another chance, fear says you’re going to blow it. 

“Eddie?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry.” 

The way he nods suggests he knew your curfew was fabricated from the start. “Don’t sweat it,” he lifts his shoulder. “I’m gonna go put this out.” He holds up the joint. 

You trail him back to his bedroom, where your eyes roam idly over the posters covering the walls. Different things to say rise to the tip of your tongue, but none of them spill over. 

Eddie turns towards you when he’s done. 

“You didn’t have to lie.” Your shoulders sink as you meet his gaze, but he easily turns to humor, “You could’ve just told me you were tired of being cramped up in a trailer. I probably would’ve agreed.” 

You can feel the ghost of a smile on your face, but you still mean your next words, “I feel like the worst person in the world.” 

His nose wrinkles. “Maybe the fourth or fifth, but definitely not the worst.” 

In spite of everything, both of you find it within yourselves to laugh. It feels good, mending. 

You regain your composure before Eddie, and upon noticing he tries even harder to quell his amusement. It takes a few extra seconds because he’s high, but he finally manages to get himself under control. 

He thinks before his next words, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. You never do.” A lump forms in your throat as you toy with the hem of your sweater. “And all I can think about every time you leave is how I let you walk away without telling you how fucking much I enjoy you being around.”

You swallow. “I know you do.” 

He shakes his head. “I like hanging out with the guys too—I’ll hang out with anybody if they’re cool.” You watch him with doe eyes as he speaks. “But you, you’re a whole different story. You drive me crazy in the best fucking way ever.” Those words hang thick in the air. “When I blew that eyelash of your finger, I wished—”

“Wait,” you hold out a careful hand, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Don’t tell me.” Part of you wants him to, but not at the expense of the wish not coming true. 

That keeps him quiet for a few seconds. He’s still charged from his confession, electricity having taken the place of blood within his veins. 

“You came back,” Eddie states instead. “Why?” 

His eyes don’t leave you, and you take in his entirety for the first time since you’ve been back. Long hair, short sleeve Metallica shirt, faded pajama pants. He doesn’t have his chest puffed out or his chin turned up in that charming way he often does when he’s working a crowd or a group of friends. 

He’s leveled. No guard up, no mask on, just Eddie. 

The one who’s been by your side since fifth grade. Who could make your sides ache on the days when laughing was the last thing you thought you could do. Who got on your nerves almost every time you were together, but still managed to be one of your favorite people in the world. 

“You know how you always say there’s no shame in running?” you ask, shifting your weight. You’d sat in on enough of his D&D campaigns to have heard that phrase uttered. 

He nods. 

“Well, we both know it’s also worth something when you have the guts to stay. So this is me choosing not to run anymore.” From your feelings or from him. 

The room shrinks and grows one hundred degrees hotter when Eddie moves to stand closer to you. He reaches out to grasp your hand, calluses brushing your skin. The chunky metal rings adorning his fingers glint. 

Your next breath stalls as he presses your palm flat against the left side of his chest. The quickened rhythm of his heart drums against it fiercely. A mix of vulnerability and courage are married in his eyes. 

“Same,” you whisper, and his lips twitch upwards. “Here I was thinking this was gonna be just another Friday night.” 

You let your hand fall from his chest. 

A grin breaks across his face like dawn, more tender than it’s ever been. “I’m glad it’s not.” 

Time slows as he cups your face, eyes flitting over every detail as if to memorize it all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He whispers it like there’s nothing to question, like he's been waiting forever. 

You don’t mean to smile as wide as you do. His heart skips a beat, maybe two. He’s done holding back from what he’s been wanting to do for so long. 

Not another second passes before he presses his lips to yours. 

They move with careful earnesty. Despite the fact that it feels like your entire body bursts into stardust, you kiss him back with an innate sense of knowing. You can feel the puffs of air from his nose fanning over your skin, the way his thumbs brush over your cheeks. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes you weak in the knees. Even with the newness of it all, there’s an air of ease and familiarity that you lose yourself within. You don’t worry if you’re doing it right. 

By the time he pushes you backwards to sit on the edge of his bed, he’s taken off your sweater and tossed it onto the floor, leaving your pale pink bra newly on display. 

From your seated position, you watch him pull his own shirt over his head, further disheveling his hair. His milky skin hosts a myriad of dark tattoos and fading scars. Anticipation swirls in your core as he encourages you to lay on your back, propping himself overtop of you. He pecks the tip of your nose before slotting his lips over yours once again. 

A surprised sound escapes you when his lips begin to plant a trail of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck, head tilting to give him more access. The moment your conscience catches up to reality, you push at his chest and he immediately pulls away. 

“Too much?” He studies your face. You can’t bring yourself to say no because you don’t want it to end. 

“I think I just need a second. Sorry.” Embarrassment clings to your words, but you muster a shaky laugh. “I’m not used to this kinda thing.” 

Eddie had experienced his share of sporadic flings, but his feelings never ran as deep as they do for you.  

“You’re okay,” he soothes. “I may like pushing your buttons, but ‘m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, alright?” 

In all your years of knowing him, he’d never given you reason to believe he’d ever discount your feelings. Or that he was even capable of doing so. 

You raise a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s keep going.” 

“You sure?” He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Absolutely positive?” He dips down and playfully nips at your collarbone. “Cross your heart?”  

You bite your lip to keep from giggling, but fail when he begins to move lower. He drinks in your laughter like it’s an elixir. 

He continues a disorderly line of kisses down your stomach, and your mind is beyond hazy by the time he reaches the waistband of your jeans. You don’t utter any words of protest when he kneels to pop the button open. The subsequent sound of your zipper being pulled down might as well be thunder with how quiet the room has grown aside from it. 

Your panties are the same pink as your bra, trimmed with thin lace that makes Eddie dizzy. Without waiting for him to ask, you lift your hips for him to pull down your pants. Once they’re on the floor, he runs his hands over both of your thighs, trying his best to memorize the feeling. You briefly close your eyes when his fingers ghost over the soft fabric of your underwear. Nerves bundle low in your stomach to the point where you feel like a live wire laying exposed before him. 

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he says like a scripture. 

“Me?” you peer down at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, you. Who else?” He lifts the thin waistband of your panties and lets it snap back down to your skin. “I’m gonna take ���em off.” He only makes the announcement to give you a chance to refute it. 

Rather than doing so, you brace your feet so you can lift your hips for him once more. 

You’ve known him for the better half of your life. If anyone, your trust can reside in him. 

A string of awed expletives slip past his lips when there’s nothing left between him and your heat. To stop himself from staring, he turns his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into the plush skin. You don’t realize that’s what he’s doing until you feel the tiny pinch that stings so good. 

Your silence is perceived as permission to switch to the other leg to do the same. You can hear your heart in your ears, and regard it as a reminder that you’re alive and breathing during a moment you never thought would come. 

You’re marked now, his.

He runs a gentle finger from your clit to your wet folds, and your own sensitivity surprises you when your thighs snap closed and trap his hand. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, slowly blooming them open again. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, where fondness seems to radiate like imperceivable rays of light. 

After pressing a kiss to the space just beneath your navel, he stands and climbs onto the bed with you. You sit up and look to him for further direction. 

An easy smile spreads across his face as he settles with his back against the wall where a headboard should be. 

“C’mere,” he stretches his legs out in front of himself. 

You crawl to him and sit so that your back is pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. It isn’t until you shift that you feel his erection pressing into your rear. 

You peek back at him with hot cheeks. “Sorry.”  

Eddie drops a kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve apologized five hundred times tonight.” You shrink in on yourself because you know it’s true. “You’re not allowed to anymore, capeesh?” 

You nod. 

“Now prop your legs up, buttercup.” You can hear the smile in his voice that hopes you caught his rhyme. 

You press your feet into his sheets and spread your knees into a V. 

His pointer finger finds your clit without warning, applying just enough pressure to hitch your breath. You’ve touched yourself before, but had never taken the time to truly gain an understanding of the deeper pleasure there was to be felt. 

Here Eddie was, showing you what you didn’t know about yourself.

He switches to rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger glides through the slickness of your folds, making you clench with want. You reach between your legs with the hope of helping, or perhaps egging things along, but Eddie tuts. 

“Hands off or I’ll stop.” His tone is gentle and commanding all at once. 

Even though you follow his instructions, he still withdraws his touch. A protest ends up dying in your throat when you feel his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra and pushing the straps down your goosebump-laden arms. It soon joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. You’ve never been so bare in front of another person. 

“Jesus, look at you,” he murmurs. His large hands raise to cup your breasts, fingers experimentally pinching both of your pebbled nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. 

You watch with hooded eyes and parted lips. Caught off guard when he grabs your hands and redirects them to your chest to take over for him. You tentatively pinch your nipples in the same way he’d done, sending minute shockwaves through your body. 

“There you go,” he coos into your ear. A gasp falls past your lips when his hand dips back between your legs to ease the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. As he pushes it in further, your toes curl tighter. 

But his touch disappears yet again, making an exasperated breath leave you as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder. 

“Eddie,” it’s a whine. “Are you teasing me?”

“No. I forgot to take my rings off.” They clink as he drops them onto the nightstand. “But I think I will now since you just had to say something.” The charged promise of those words sends a chill down your spine.

You’re begging three minutes later. A melodic mix of weakened pleads, his name, and incoherent bargains that only make him smile. 

He’s trapped you on the edge of a freefall. Your thighs ache from tensing, and the strong pulse of arousal between your legs consumes the entirety of your mind. His two middlemost fingers pump in and out of your entrance with no sense of urgency, curling into that spot within you that makes you want to shatter. Whenever he senses that you’re about to topple over the edge, he pauses to let a few seconds crawl by. 

It’s scary how good he is at reading you. At holding the reins. 

“I can’t anymore,” you breathlessly insist, pressing back into him. “Eddie, please.”

“Sure you can.” He suckles the spot beneath your ear. In your head, you scream at him in frustration but in reality you squeeze your eyes shut. 

He doesn’t know who he’s teasing anymore. Listening to you whimper and feeling you squirm has him twitching and straining in his boxers. 

Somewhere along the line, he remembers mercy. 

As soon as the cord within you snaps, your back arches and your walls flutter helplessly around his fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you in strong heated waves, each one fizzling out in their own time, making you tremble. 

When your breaths grow even again, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you as you watch, awed and silent. You place a hand on his thigh to ensure he stays close. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s body, the new air between you. It’s as if you’re waiting to be roused from a dream. 

“I wanna keep making you feel good,” he eventually murmurs into your ear, smirking when you shiver. “Will you let me do that?” 

The feeling of his erection pressing into your backside suddenly registers in your mind again, and you reach behind you to curiously palm the outline through his pajama pants. He feels it in his bones. 

“You can do whatever you want,” you tell him.

Eddie grabs your waist and gently pushes you forward so you know to let him get up. You settle in the middle of the bed and pull your legs up to your chest in a halfhearted reclaim of modesty. 

He stalks over to his dresser and scans the cluttered surface with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. You trace his back tattoos with your eyes. After pushing a few stray trinkets aside, he makes a sound of frustration.  

“What's wrong?” you ask. 

He continues looking. “Coulda sworn there was a condom lying around up here.” 

After a beat, you crawl to the edge of his bed so you can peek into the drawer of his nightstand. There’s notebooks filled with song lyrics, old magazines, a Walkman, batteries, guitar picks. No square foils in sight. 

���Can’t we still…” your words fade when he meets your gaze, but he gives you an encouraging nod. “You know. If we’re extra careful, right?” Your voice is just above a murmur by the time you stop speaking. 

The innocence seeping from your gaze makes a helpless fool out of him. 

The next thing you know, he’s pulling his pants and boxers down in one go, cock springing up towards his belly as you watch with owlish eyes. A dark tuft of hair curls at the base, and the head is a pretty shade of rose that’s beading pearlescent pre-cum. A prominent vein snakes along the underside. 

You’re more than ready. It’s the lightning in a bottle type sureness that you can’t believe you’ve come to know so well. The second he starts moving towards the bed again, you reposition onto your back. 

Though you don’t utter a single word, every unspoken thought from your mind seems to shape his smile. It’s not entirely proud, there’s a hint of softness to it. Something giddy residing just beneath the surface that takes the edge off the intensity of his gaze. 

A comforting heat radiates from his body as he positions himself overtop of you. 

He reaches between your legs to collect the tell tale sign of your arousal on his fingers, and your eyelashes flutter. “Nice and ready for me, huh?” 

The tone of his voice makes you want to hide. You feel small and on top of the world at the same time. Eagerness is written all over your face. And in the way your chest rises with quicker breaths. How your fingers are curled into the sheets. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You’re glad he does because you’re certain all words would fail if you tried to speak. 

All you can do is blink up at him, propping your legs on either side of him as he lines himself up at your entrance. 

It’s overwhelming at first, incomparable to his fingers. But he takes it slow, watching your face the whole while. Before you know it, you’ve stretched to take the entirety of his length, and his eyes are glued to where you’re joined. 

He bottoms out with a satisfied grunt, hair falling into his face. The fullness makes up for the dull ache. Especially as he begins to slowly pull out in preparation for another pump. A gasp escapes you the second time he eases back in, and your face scrunches with the new depth that comes with hooking your legs around the back of his thighs. 

“If you wanna stop at any point just tell me, okay?” He tries his best to keep his voice steady. 

“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 

He finds a rhythm before long, cheeks flushed right along with his chest. He looks beautiful like this. Even his pleasured sighs and huffs rush straight to the pit of your stomach. 

“Lemme hear you,” his voice comes out gruff. “Stop holding back.” 

You swallow a moan. “‘M not.” 

Unconvinced, Eddie rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and your breath stutters on its way out. You don’t remember being this sensitive earlier, and a few more pinches have your mouth gaping open just as he expected. 

His thrusts grow pointedly harder, forcing the fire building in your core to burn brighter. 

“Oh, god—Eddie,” you finally choke out, gripping onto his biceps. 

He swears he grows impossibly harder, orgasm creeping even closer from its place in the distance. You’re so soft, so warm, so wet, squeezing him in a maddening way. Your blunt fingernails move to dig into the back of his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.

“Say my name again.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, helplessly clenching around him. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You sound dreamy. It rushes straight between his legs, and he can feel that familiar coil beginning to wear thin. 

Hearing you say his name like that was going to do him in. 

A sudden burst of confidence finds you. “You’re so deep—gonna make me come.” 

His hips falter and something shifts in his eyes. He starts drawing circles over your clit.

“I wanna feel you fall apart around me,” he says, and you nod because you want that for him. “But not until I say, alright?” 

Your stomach drops. 

When you don’t answer, he slows to a torturous pace that makes your head spin. “Gotta answer me so I know we’re on the same page.” 

“We always have been,” you half slur, drunk on him. 

As Eddie looks down at you, he sees a large fraction of his world woven into the delicate furrow of your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes meet the very tops of your cheeks, the part of your cherry-tainted lips. 

He lowers himself so that his chest is grazing yours as he continues thrusting, pubic bone dragging over your clit. The feeling of his warm breaths fanning into your ear makes you shudder, and when you arch up, you’re only met by more of his warmth, more of him. There is no escape, nowhere to run. Only accept. 

“Wish I could, shit, wish I could bottle this feeling in a fucking jar and keep it forever,” he grits into your ear. “Never felt anything this good… five stars from me.” He’s fighting to hold himself together. 

You miss half of those words because you’re on the verge of an ascension. 

“Eddie,” you breathe, somewhat startled. “Eddie, please. Can I come? I’m so close.” 

“How close?” 

Your voice goes airy and high because he’s hitting just the right spot. “‘M right there.” 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Whining, you claw into his skin with the intent of making it sting, but it only makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “I’ll shut this whole show down if you wanna play that game—” 

“So good!” you whimper, giving in. “You’re making me feel so good. Just… please.” You clench around him in hopes of earning an okay.  

It almost makes him fold, come right on the spot, but he still forces out a, “Not yet, angel. I gotta practice telling you no, remember?” 

His constant denial was only adding fuel to the fire of pleasure burning within you and he knew it.

By his next thrust, he could tell the beginnings of an unraveling had begun sweeping you under. Even though he sees it coming from a mile away, he nearly passes out himself when you let go.

Eyes closed, your walls flutter around him in a strong, rapid succession that carries on for a while. You’re being lifted somewhere higher than you’ve ever known. The world fades around the edges, and the distant sound of Eddie’s voice washes over you as your jaw slacks open.  

There you go, that’s it. Couldn’t hold back any longer, huh?

Only when aftershocks begin to spark through you do you realize how deep your breaths have grown, and the new laxity of your limbs that makes you feel like you’ve become one with his bed, trembling weakly. A wonderful ache resides between your legs. 

A gentle weight soon meets your lower stomach, and your eyes flutter open just enough to see. Eddie has pulled himself from within the warmth of you, and rested his slickened tip against your warm skin. You watch dazedly as he strokes himself a few good times before jolting and releasing onto your belly. 

All you get is a glimpse of his blissed expression before he leans down to tuck his face into your neck. You lift a hand to his head and gently scratch at his scalp as you feel him begin to place soft kisses to your throat. You can still feel his cock against your belly, and you work your other hand between your bodies to wrap your delicate fingers around him. 

His whole body shudders, and when you lightly circle your thumb around the tip your name breathlessly falls past his lips. 

He grunts and makes you stop when you start to do the same lazy motion again, and you chuckle weakly. 

“Oh, is that funny?” he asks, wrestling a smile. When you bite your lip and nod sweetly, he pushes himself up so he’s propped higher above you. “You wanna know what else is funny? I don’t think I ever gave you the green light to come.” 

You blink up at him innocently. “I couldn’t help it.” 

He begins tracing the underside of one of your breasts and you suck in a breath, gripping onto his wrist. He pulls from your hold, and that same hand trails down your body, over your ribs and down your sides. His fingers leave a tingly buzz in their wake. You try not to squirm too much because his spend is still on your stomach. 

“I’m trying to decide if I should do something about it or be nice,” he says, ghosting a finger over your oversensitive clit. 

When you whimper, his fingertips move to revisit one of the marks he left on the inside of your thighs, and the ticklish sensation makes your muscles tense as you huff out a tired laugh. He playfully quirks his brows at that reaction, but you can see the warmth in his eyes. 

You smile when he leans down to give your lips a sweet peck. “I’ll be nice,'' he promises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

•••

When midnight comes, sleep has found neither of you. You’re both fighting it, trying to stay awake so you can continue sharing hushed stories, soft caresses, and smiles that warm you right along with the sheets covering your bodies. 

Your eyes are the first to begin fluttering, and Eddie stops talking when he notices. 

“No, keep going,” you murmur. “I’m listening.” 

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says. You shake your head no, and he chuckles. “Yes. Go to sleep.”

Before you have the chance to say anything else, he reaches out to turn the bedside lamp off. You press yourself closer to his body after he settles back beside you. 

Neither of you say anything for a while, so you begin to assume he’s dozed off. When he speaks up again, his words are soft and honest, “This is what I wished for. A moment just like this.” 

You mean to tell him that you think you’re in love.

-

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[sameatsfunions]

I thought of a steddie AU-

Skate rental Eddie, passing out skates for hours.

“Here you go-“ Eddie says as he passes out the ice skates to a group of preteens.

His shift goes like that for another hour, and mainly it’s people returning skates because the free skate hours are nearly over, which Eddie is grateful for because that means so is his shift.

Finally, 20 minutes after his shift should’ve been over, he grabs his things and clocks out. The next event at the arena is private lessons. Usually they last an hour each, and Eddie usually leaves on time.

But not today, today he had so many returned skates to clean and put away he stayed over his usual time, and when he was leaving the sounds of arguing came from the ice box; It caught his attention and he looked down onto the ice while he was leaving and saw someone getting onto the ice.

He was in black leggings and a tight long sleeve shirt, his hair flew around in the wind from him effortlessly skating around warming up.

Eddie didn’t realize he was walking closer to the glass, being drawn by the perfect man he saw. Eddie was pretty inexperienced when it came to dating, he barely had friends let alone any girlfriends, there was that one girl he took on a date, but it ended with him alone, and a whole bucket of popcorn to eat. After that he just decided maybe it wasn’t for him anyways.

He sat down at the back of the arena, praying that he wouldn’t be seen, the stadium seating lowly lit, perfect place for him to observe.

Eddie watched as the guy skated around with his eyes closed, the only sound coming from anywhere was the scraping of the blades from his skates, cutting and carving through the ice with each turn and twist.

He looked off to someone Eddie couldn’t see, and watched him nod, slowing at the center of the rink. He took a deep breath and the music started. Eddie didn’t recognize the song, it wasn’t some fancy professional song, just one that anyone would listen to. Eddie didn’t know much about ice skating other than the sizing of shoes and the fact that ice was cold and it hurt when you fell on it.

He watched as the guy started to skate, with the most emotion he’s ever seen, just gliding around like he was born right there, on the ice.

It honestly took eddies breath away, his eyes latched onto the angelic creature who was effortlessly skating, and felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He quickly grabbed it out and realized he completely forgot about the plans he made earlier that week with his few friends, and the fact that he was already late.

“Shit-“ he said quietly and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible and slip out of the upper side door of the arena.

—

He made it to his dungeons and dragons session only 40 minutes late. Of course he blamed it on work and traffic and anything he could other than the pretty skating boy knowing that he would get torn apart by his friends for being a creep and watching a complete stranger skate.

The last thing he needed was a reminder that he wasn’t normal like most of the people his age.

—

It was two days later when Eddie saw the guy again. He definitely didn’t wait around the last two shifts to see if he was scheduled for the private lesson after the free skate, and he absolutely wasn’t upset when it wasn’t him who skated onto the ice.

He quickly sat in the same chair as he once again just admired the way the guy could glide across the ice and not even look at where he was going. He skated with his eyes closed half the time he was out there.

It went on like that for about a month. Eddie watching him skate mainly every couple of days. Sometimes the guy wouldn’t show up, and Eddie would hide his disappointment and leave frustrated. Eddie didn’t realize how much it made his day to see someone else have a passion like he did. Of course his wasn’t as beautiful and graceful as figure skating, he played guitar.

Just as Eddie got into a routine of hanging around to see the private sessions, and who was renting them out, he was asked to Zamboni the ice for a week or two while the guy who usually did that job was out on vacation. Eddie said he would, not because he wanted to, but because it was an excuse to stay longer and see who was coming out onto the ice.

He left his stuff in the little rental office, and quickly made his way down to the back area where they kept the Zamboni. They taught him the first week of his job, and originally he was going to do this and maintenance, but the job in rental opened up around the same time and he opted out for that.

He threw his hair up into a sloppy bun, and got to work, pulling it out onto the ice. He let the machine do its job as he zoned out just making sure to keep it from running into things. The whole process took about 5 minutes and he was so focused on pulling it back into the area it was kept in the arena - he didn’t notice the guy had come in and started to put on his skates.

Eddie was walking back to grab his stuff when he got stopped in his tracks by someone calling out a kinda hostile “hey!”

Eddie looked around and saw him, down by the glass box, staring up at him. He stood there like a deer in headlights, thoughts pouring through his head.

Did I not Zamboni right?

Does he think I did a bad job-

The guy waved at him, telling him to come over with one simple hand gesture- so Eddie did. He walked down the steps and before he knew it, he was standing there just on the other side of the glass. “Uh… hey?” Eddie said, quickly looking at the ice to make sure it was smooth and a decent job.

“Why do you watch me when I skate?” The guy asked.

Oh shit- Eddie thought, his eyes snapping back to the guy, which now that he was closer noticed so many more details that made him somehow even more perfect.

He had a few small moles on his left cheek, one on his neck. His lips were pouty, cheeks puffy and red from the cold already, and his hair- his hair was so thick and this honey brown, just like his eyes.

“I uh- I -“ Eddie stuttered. “I just like to watch you skate-“ he said. It was so awkward he felt himself cringe deep inside. “I work here.” Eddie said again, trying to help his case- realizing quickly it absolutely did not help him at all.

“Okay…” the guy said his eyes flicking around, “it’s kinda creepy…” he followed his last statement. “Can I give you a tip?” He said, looking up at Steve as he Bent down to check and make sure his skates were tight and ready to go.

“Uh, yeah-“ Eddie knew he didn’t Zamboni right-

“Yeah of course, it’s also like the first time- I’ve done that- Zamboni the ice-“

“At least introduce yourself, you know- before you stalk someone.” The guy said, looking up at him with knowing eyes.

Oh he meant- oh shit-

“Right yeah- yeah of course-“

Eddie stared at the guy whose eyes waited for more of an answer. “Eddie.”

He said, giving the guy a sheepish smile, holding out a hand.

The guy stood up, and shook his hand finally telling him his name. “Steve.” He skated backwards away from Eddie, nodding slightly, and calling out “the ice is nice… better than the other guy who does it.” A smile peaking up on his face for the first time since the interaction. “You should take a seat, gonna be here for an hour.” Steve called out to him as the blades on his skates cut through the ice, the sound echoing around the arena.

So Eddie did just that, he sat down and he watched Steve skate.

[heegyukeluv]

love-battery (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Heeseung always would make you feel recharged just by being around. And you did the same to him.

my's note: hi hello here's a very fluff cute little thing! it's a request (thank you for requesting <3), so i hope you like it!!!! (have to say that when i chose the name of this fic, the jinyoung's song with similar name started to play on my head non-stop help)

warnings: skinship, established relationship, fluff, pet names, explicit language (i can't help myself. i'll always use at least one 'fuck' lol).

request: clingy gf with heeseung and it’s super cute and they’re in love, she really just misses him (here!)

wc: 3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

Even with your boyfriend’s tight schedule and the fact you both lived quite far from each other, you and Heeseung always managed ways to meet up and hang out for at least an hour or so – enough to work as a full recharge for Heeseung.

However, for the last whole month you only saw Heeseung three times. You were used to seeing him almost every day, either by going to his and staying for a bit or he coming to yours for the same reason, and it was pissing you off how annoying adult life was being so far, unabling you to do your daily basis chores, let alone drive to Heeseung’s studio to be with him.

Heeseung normally had a tough routine as a producer by spending long hours in his studio, staying up all night working on his music and constantly dealing with tight deadlines. Your favorite hobby was to grab a coffee and some snacks to surprise him by showing up unexpectedly; and of course, to sit on his lap while he kept doing his things. 

But now you were the one fighting against time, as you had to deal with your last year in college, struggling with your final project and with your respective project partners – who would have thought that working with people would lead you to be that stressed, huh?

Your life was a total mess at this point, your sleep schedule chaotic, your body aching, begging for a pause to get some proper rest, but you really couldn’t give yourself that luxury; all the submission dates getting closer and closer making you go crazy in desperation.

And on top of that, you haven’t seen your boyfriend, the main source of your happiness, in almost two weeks.

“This is so frustrating, Hee,” you said with a realistic sad tone, when you decided to ignore the blank page on your laptop waiting for a new plot to pop up in your mind, and give your love life a little more attention, calling Heeseung. “It’s almost like the world doesn't want us to be together.”

“Don’t say such things, my love. Not even as kidding,” he interrupted you to say with a gentle voice. “We’re going to figure out something, yeah?”

“I’m sorry, Hee. But– I’m dealing with a bunch of stupid assignments with stupid deadlines in this stupid degree I chose, and you’ve told me early this week that you were pretty chill with your work. But I didn’t even have time to invite you over the days you said you’re free! Not to mention that if you were here I’d be paying more attention to you and getting fucked with my project.”

“Y/N–”

“And when I’m free you’re the one swamped with work! And, please, I’m not blaming you, babe, please don’t take it the wrong way. I love you and I love that you can work with the thing you’re passionate about. I’m just… Frustrated,” you unloaded with a long sigh, voice trembling a bit since your feelings were, also, a mess and your heart aching. “And I miss you so much. I wish we lived a bit closer, so we could meet more often in moments like this.”

You heard Heeseung soft breathing through the phone. He decided to let you vent instead of cutting you off, because he, more than anyone, knew how overwhelmed you felt whenever you had to deal with submission dates and projects. It was your third project in your whole degree, this one being the most important one, and Heeseung saw you in shambles during your working time in the smaller ones, fully understanding how hard it has been with this final one.

“I’m sorry you’re having to go through all of this, pretty girl,” you could feel the comfort in his tender, sweet tone. You wiped out a single tear that tried to escape your eyes, curving yourself into a little ball on your couch. “But you don’t have to do this alone, my love,” you heard a weird noise through his phone, very similar to a door unlocking. Your door unlocking. You frowned. “Don’t freak out, bae. I’m entering your apartment right now.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. “What?” You whispered in disbelief, your phone falling off from your hand, your eyes widening as you watched your boyfriend walk through the front door, smiling big and bright at you.

His dark red hair was attractively messy because of the motorcycle helmet. He also carried a big backpack on his back and a plastic bag with the logo of your favorite food place.

“You’re kidding me,” your voice was barely a whisper at this point, your lips curving into a smile that grew bigger and bigger, still finding it hard to believe that the man talking to you on your phone was now in front of you. Your beloved boyfriend was now in front of you. “Lee fucking Heeseung!” You almost squealed, walking in his direction right after he put his helmet and his backpack on the ground, to jump on his open arms which were waiting to embrace you in a tight hug.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist and your arms on his shoulders, his firm hands gripping on your thighs to hold you close and steady as you buried your face on his neck, inhaling his scent as if it was your favorite drug. You heard Heeseung chuckling at your reaction and you finally noticed how fast your heart was beating, everything feeling unreal. All the frustration you felt waving off your body quickly.

“Hi, baby,” Heeseung said in an affectionate way, with you still hidden on the curve of his neck, making him let out a small laugh at your adorableness. He missed you so much.

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, pulling him into yourself as if you could become one before you started to kiss every piece of his exposed skin, from his jawline to close to his ear, to his cheek, the tip of his nose and finally his glistening, dreamy lips.

Heeseung let out a contented sigh when he felt your sweet taste, walking carefully through the living room so he could sit on the couch with you on his lap, the contact never breaking. He deepened the kiss by slightly brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, electricity running all over his body once you let him in to feel him closer, so intimately; his hands sneaked into your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist just because he needed to touch, to feel you more.

“I missed you so much, my love,” you whispered when you parted away to catch your breath, pecking his lip countless times as you said “Missed. You. So. Much. Oh. My. God,” and the last one lasted a bit longer, making Heeseung giggle and kiss you properly one more time. 

“I missed you too, pretty.”

Heeseung was looking at you with so much love, his eyes sparkling in joy for finally having you that close, touching, kissing you. He caressed your cheek while his gaze wandered all your face features, as if he was trying to memorize every one of them, completely endeared by your beauty.

Heeseung looked at you as if he just discovered what love is. 

You weren’t different, though. Your soft touch on his strands of hair, scratching slightly as your contemplated every piece of your very good-looking boyfriend, not holding yourself when your fingers started gently to trace his face; his big deer eyes now turned into little crescents, his pretty nose that you loved to kiss, the little charming mole on his forehead, and his so, so attractive lips adorning the most beautiful smile you ever had the chance to see. You were so in love.

Heeseung felt like he could stare at you all day and he would never feel tired, actually to have you close always worked as a battery recharge. And for you, Heeseung did the same, making all your bad feelings wash away easily because you had him, and you knew you could rely on him.

Ironically, the sound of your laptop on the coffee table indicating that its battery was running out, pulled you both out of your little love bubble, startling you slightly. The reality check hit you with full force, and the bottom of your stomach sank immediately.

You gulped, looking at Heeseung with a hint of sadness before you sighed and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you’re here, but I–”

“You have things to do, I know,” Heeseung cut you off mid-sentence. His kind voice, the small peck on your cheek, and his cute smile making you shiver and melt. “But don’t worry about me, okay? You do your things, I’ll be around for whenever you finish, and then we can cuddle,” he said simply, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re staying?” You questioned with eyes sparkling in confusion. “I don’t want you to mess up your sche–”

Heeseung now stopped your talking with a sweet kiss, and then another, and another, and one more just in case. “I’m staying, baby,” he chuckled at your tilted head, expressing that you were very much confused. “As I said before, I’m pretty chill this week,” he explained with a warm smile, mirroring yours. “Anything I have to do, I can do from my computer or phone, so I’m all yours this weekend, my love.”

Heeseung fell even deeply for you when he saw your eyes shining like you received the best news of your life. And for you, you actually did. To have your boyfriend for a whole weekend after days without being able to see each other, you truly thought you were dreaming. 

So to have Heeseung feeding you while your hands worked on your writing was definitely something that you hadn’t planned for your friday. He was openly giving his opinion as well after you cutely asked him to, paying attention to every detail you shared with him about the plot you were working on. 

“So your idea is that after he leaves the house, you give an extra zoom on the door knob because someone is going to open, even though the house is supposed to be empty?”

“Yes! And then it’s revealed to be actually his ‘dead’ twin!” You explained excitedly, noticing Heeseung gazing very passionately at you. You blushed, feeling suddenly too aware, because your story now has been read by someone other than you. “I– I know it’s kinda simple and boring, but I mean– I got the approval to keep working on it, so…” You shrugged, trying to act cool, but your pout was showing how insecure you actually felt.

“It’s not simple or anything bad, my love,” Heeseung couldn’t resist the urge of kissing your small pout as he reassured you. “It’s impressive how your creative mind works, I’m really proud,” he said with his voice filled with sincerity.

You gave him a shy smile before going back to writing, heart beating fast with his genuine words.

Heeseung never left your side. You needed him around you every single second, not only to compensate for the days you were apart, but because Heeseung was really your source of energy. So to write on your computer while having his fingers intertwined with yours became a natural activity during the moments you were working on your project. You could feel Heeseung’s love stare at your face during those moments, completely in love by your focused expression. 

Sometimes he would leave your touch to reply to some of his co-workers on his phone, giving them the attention they needed, but in the meantime his head would be resting on your shoulder, completely addicted to your touch and to having you close – his hair tickling your neck making you lose focus for a few minutes.  

You both wanted and needed each other with the same intensity. Heeseung always loved your clinginess, emphasizing how lovable you looked with your pouty face whenever he had to leave the bed to go to the bathroom or grab some food in the kitchen and “leave you to die alone”, like you normally would say in a very dramatic way. Especially because he himself was pretty clingy too, holding you in a tight back hug whenever you had to go back home after visiting him at his studio, refusing to let you leave his side.

To move in together was a big dream. However Heeseung always talked with you about finishing your studies first before committing your relationship on that instance, so you could have your freedom without him disrupting your focus; he also knew that he wasn’t ready to have you so close for that long, afraid of scaring you off by how much he would be around you, maybe losing his own concentration on his work. 

And this behavior was being shown at that moment, by you doing the lunch and him hugging you from behind.

“I have to be honest, I don’t really see this as ‘helping’, Hee,” you said with a playful chuckle, not really bothered by his big hands resting on your hips as well as his chin on your shoulder while you did all the work. He was clinging like a koala, making it challenging to move around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? I’m clearly helping you,” he said with a babyish voice, making you giggle. You could tell he was pouting too. “What if you get hurt? I have to be close, y’know? To save you from danger.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head behind and profusely resting it on his chest. “The danger?”

“Yeah, the knife and fire and stuff…” He explained like it was obvious.

You turned down the heat on the stove, moving away from it so you could face your boyfriend, just to meet his big, adorable eyes looking at you with a dramatically pleading expression. “You’re right,” you said softly, cupping his cheeks and planting a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for protecting me from the dangers of my kitchen,” you added a hint of sarcasm to your very affectionate tone, without holding your smile when he nodded proudly, before pulling you closer to kiss you properly as now your self-proclaimed hero. 

After you finished cooking – with Heeseung’s help, of course –, you both shared the meal, doing constant “love shots” but with your food, just so you could feel each other’s touch.

Heeseung didn’t let you go back to work on your project when you finished eating, saying you needed a bit of resting time with him. And how could you oppose such truthful words? 

So you spend quite a long time of your Saturday afternoon embraced in Heeseung’s arms and scent all over you, making it difficult to choose anything different from being on the bed cuddling him. 

After changing positions many times, you now were on top of Heeseung, face buried on his neck while he hummed some random song, hands gently caressing your back and scalp, making you wonder if taking a quick nap at that moment would mess up too much with your project work.

As if a sense of responsibility hit you, remembering all your deadlines and especially that you had to finish at least the plot writing by Monday – in two days –, you forced yourself to try to move away. Your body refused, though.

“I should go,” you said, muffed into his skin.

“Yeah, you should…” Heeseung added, not moving an inch to help you with that. In fact, he held you closer. Your warm body against his own helping him to relax. 

“Like, reeeally gotta go…” You didn’t move as well, trailing kisses all over his neck as you refused to get up.

“Definitely you do…” His voice was a bit raspy in a sweet, tender way that made it even harder for you to leave. He was about to fall asleep.

You sighed, “I missed being like this with you.” You lifted your head just enough to see his serene expression; eyes closed, lips slightly parted and a calm breathing. You almost cried with the fact that you truly needed to go back to your life instead of staying there with Heeseung. 

Your hands caressed his face with all the care in the world, making him open his eyes, “I missed it too, pretty. I miss you every moment I’m without you, actually.”

You noticed a soft flush  on Heeseung cheeks and giggled at the sight of your ‘so cool’ boyfriend blushing in front of you. 

You always appreciated how Heeseung was not only a good listener to your worries and maybe overwhelming thoughts, but also unafraid to show you his most sensitive and vulnerable side in order to make you comfortable on doing the same. You cherished his presence in your life with all you had, not being scared of loving him so openly, because he did the same for you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to tease a kiss. He smiled against your lips, closing his eyes again.

“I love you too, my love,” he murmured, mirroring your tone and capturing your bottom lip with his own, to pull you near and finally kiss you. 

You decided to stay for a bit longer, because Heeseung’s hands roaming your body with such care and tenderness, his sweet mouth working on yours, and his loving whispers against your skin were too irresistible.

The best excuse you found for yourself was that you were revitalizing so you could work better, your creativity would flow easily and you would finish it in no time.

And, well, he would be around you anyway, because he just couldn’t never get enough of your pretty face, or your joyful presence, or your addicting warm touches.

After all, Heeseung always worked as a recharger to your love battery, and for him, you were no different.

[anniebeemine]

isn't that sweet?*- s.r. x fem!reader

i’m working late, 'cause i’m a singer

warnings: oral sex (fem. receiving), slight voyeurism

The studio was dimly lit, the soft glow of the mixing board casting long shadows against the walls. You stood in the recording booth, headphones snug against your ears, adjusting the mic one last time as you prepared to lay down another track. This album was different—more personal, more intimate than anything you’d ever done before. And that was because of him.

Spencer sat on the other side of the glass, his gaze fixed on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, finding your rhythm before the music began. He was seated next to your producer, who was quietly conversing with the sound engineer, but Spencer’s focus never wavered. His presence was constant, steady and comforting, as you prepared to pour your heart into the microphone.

This album was a reflection of your life over the past year—every song, every lyric, a piece of the story you shared with Spencer. From the first tentative dates where you both stumbled over your words, nervous and unsure, to the quiet nights spent curled up on the couch, watching old movies, your heads resting against each other. Those memories, those moments, were what fueled your creativity.

You’d written about the way his fingers intertwined with yours during a late-night walk, how he always made you feel like the only person in the world when he looked at you. The way his eyes would light up whenever he got lost in a ramble, explaining some obscure fact or statistic with a passion that made your heart swell.

And then there were the nights where the world outside ceased to exist—the ones where you’d stay tangled in bed long after the sun had risen, whispering secrets and sweet nothings, your bodies and souls completely intertwined. The songs that emerged from those moments were the most vulnerable, the ones that spoke of love in its rawest, most passionate form. They were the songs that made you blush when you sang them, knowing that each note and word was a reflection of the intimacy you shared with him.

As the instrumental intro played through your headphones, you closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you. The melody was soft, almost dreamy, and you knew it would resonate with Spencer. It was the same melody you had hummed absentmindedly during one of your many nights in, the sound lulling him to sleep as you played with his hair.

You started to sing, your voice soft and controlled, carrying the emotion of the lyrics. The song was about a specific night—a night where time seemed to slow, and every touch, every whisper, felt like it was magnified. You had written it as a lullaby of sorts, a tribute to the quiet, peaceful moments you’d shared, the ones that felt like a sanctuary from the world.

The song came to an end, and you let the last note linger in the air before you pulled the headphones off, stepping away from the mic. The room was silent for a moment, the weight of what you’d just recorded settling over everyone.

Your producer leaned forward, a look of approval on his face. “That was perfect. I think we’ve got it.”

You gave a small, relieved smile, but you didn’t move from where you stood. The producer and sound engineer began gathering their things, the producer casting a knowing glance between you and Spencer. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Just lock up when you’re done,” he said. “Goodnight.” 

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Spencer alone. The silence stretched on for a moment before Spencer pushed the button on the console to speak through the speakers into the booth.

“Is there something else you want to record?” he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the edge of the mic stand as you looked at him through the glass. “There is… but I’m really embarrassed to do it in front of other people,” you admitted, your voice just above a whisper, even though you knew he could hear you clearly.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly. “Embarrassed? Why?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s… it’s a song I wrote. It’s about… well, about us. Specifically, about our… sex life.” You could feel your face heat up as you spoke, averting your eyes to the floor. “My producer suggested adding some… um, moans in the background, but it’s really awkward to do it in front of anyone else.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly composed himself, understanding washing over his features. “So… you want me to stay and just press record and stop for you?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief at his understanding. “Yeah. I can’t do it with them here, but… I trust you. It’s just, every time I try, it either comes out flat or too breathy. I’m too in my head.”

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

He walked over to the console, settling into the chair that the sound engineer had vacated, his fingers hovering over the controls. You adjusted the mic, closing your eyes for a moment to collect yourself before you spoke again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Spencer pressed the record button, and you began. The first few attempts were rough, your voice coming out boring and flat, lacking the emotion you wanted to convey. Each time, you stopped, shaking your head, frustration building as you couldn’t quite get it right. Spencer patiently stopped the recording each time, offering you encouraging smiles, but the tension was mounting. After a few more failed tries, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous giggle, breaking the tension in the room. 

“This is so awkward,” you admitted, laughing softly as you looked at Spencer, who chuckled along with you.

“You’re overthinking it,” Spencer said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Just relax. I’ll even turn around.” 

You nodded, appreciating his understanding, and tried again. But this time, the frustration only grew. The sounds were either too forced or completely flat, and each attempt left you feeling more and more tense. Finally, you let out a groan of frustration, stepping out of the booth to grab a bottle of water, trying to unwind.

Spencer watched you as you sipped the water, his eyes thoughtful. “I think I know a way to help you get authentic moans,” he said after a moment, his voice low and careful.

You blinked at him, trying to piece together what he was suggesting. At first, you were hesitant, not quite believing what he was implying. But the way he looked at you, his eyes full of that familiar warmth and affection, made it clear. He was serious.

“Spence…” you started, your voice trailing off as you considered it.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “There are no cameras in here,” he reminded you, his voice soft. “And I’ll be very, very quiet.”

You felt your heart race as his words hung in the air, a mix of nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Before you could respond, Spencer leaned in, his lips gently brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The heat of his touch, the familiar taste of his lips, sent a shiver down your spine.

His kisses grew deeper, more insistent as he pressed closer, his hands finding their way to your waist. You could feel his breath against your skin as he began trailing kisses down your neck, his lips soft and deliberate. Each kiss left a trail of warmth in its wake, a persuasive argument in itself.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as he reached a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. The sensation made your knees weak, and you found yourself leaning into him, craving more of his touch.

His hands moved up to cradle your face, tilting your head slightly to give him better access to your neck. “Just relax,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated against your skin. “Let me help you.”

His lips continued their journey, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck, sending waves of heat through your body. With each kiss, he was chipping away at your hesitation, replacing it with something far more potent: desire.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his mouth on your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. It was impossible to think about anything else, the world outside the booth fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped up in this moment.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, his voice a tender caress.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The nervousness was still there, but it was tempered by the undeniable pull you felt toward him. “I think… I think I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Spencer smiled, his hands gently squeezing your waist in encouragement. “Good,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “I have an idea.”

You watched, curious, as he moved around the room, grabbing a few of the equipment boxes stacked nearby. He brought them into the recording booth, carefully setting them up beneath the microphone. You followed him inside, your heart racing as you tried to piece together what he was doing. It wasn’t until he started arranging the boxes like a makeshift seat that you began to realize his plan. Your eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on you—he was setting up a throne for you, right beneath the microphone.

Your mouth went dry as you processed the implications, your body buzzing with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Spencer was always full of surprises, but this...this was something else entirely.

He caught your expression and gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and soothing. With a practiced ease, he shrugged off his cardigan, folding it neatly before draping it over the makeshift seat. He looked at you, his gaze warm and steady, before gently guiding you to sit down.

You hesitated for a moment, the intimacy of the situation sending a flush of heat through you, ending right at your core. You clench around nothing. But the way Spencer looked at you, the quiet confidence in his eyes, made it impossible to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the makeshift throne, the softness of his cardigan cushioning you.

Spencer knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you. The sight of him there, gazing at you with such intensity, made your breath hitch. He gently parted your legs, his hands warm against your skin as he settled himself between your thighs.

“I want you to focus on the sensations,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “Forget everything else. Just think about us.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your inner thigh. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine, your entire body attuned to his every movement. You felt his fingers loop around the sides of your underwear, pulling them down. 

“Aren’t you glad you wore a skirt?” He teased. 

You nod, closing your eyes to hopefully forget the fact that you’re in your workplace and anyone could walk in at any moment. Spencer kissed your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider. You can feel the cool air run over you and your soaked core. His tongue traced a line along your folds. You gasped, writhing beneath him. Spencer wastes no time in using his hands, circling a finger around your entrance as his lips find your clit. He wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking lightly. 

You moan lowly, your fingers finding his hair to give him a harsh tug. He looks up at you, relishing in the way your eyes are screwed shut, little pants leaving your lips. He lets his fingers slide into your pussy, pumping slowly as he kitten licks at your clit. 

“Fuck.” 

He smiled against your cunt and you just know that he’s come up with some cocky comment that he’s dying to say. You finally open your eyes and almost cum at the dazed look in his eyes. The hand that was on your thigh came up to cup your breast, sliding his way under your shirt. Spencer’s eyebrows perk when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. 

You wink at him, a smug smile forming on your lips. He pushes his fingers deeper. The action makes your thighs flinch, closing in on him for a moment before you relax again. Spencer hums against you, his lips sucking generously at your clit before his tongue massaged it in teasing little circles.

Spencer continued his relentless, expert pace, every flick of his tongue and gentle suck driving you closer to the brink. The sound that escaped your lips was a soft moan, barely more than a whisper, but it filled the recording booth with a delicate echo that made Spencer smile against you.

As his tongue circled and teased, the moan grew into a breathier, more desperate sound. “Spence,” you panted, the word tumbling out in a ragged exhale. Your hands clutched at his hair, urging him on, your breath catching in your throat as he continued.

The next moan was louder, more drawn out, vibrating with the tension building inside you. It was a sound of pure need, of surrender, and Spencer relished every note of it. The intensity of what he was doing made you lose all sense of composure; your breaths came quicker, more shallow, and each exhale carried a gasp, a whimper, a plea.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice trembling as he pushed you further, his name falling from your lips again and again. Every moan, every pant was a symphony of rising desperation, a crescendo of need that you couldn’t hold back.

Your back arched involuntarily, pressing yourself closer to him, and the moans turned into broken cries, the kind that left your throat raw. “Spence, I—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, the words lost in a strangled moan that was half sob, half ecstasy.

The sounds coming from you were almost primal now, a mixture of keening whimpers and breathless pants, each one more desperate than the last. You were close—so close—and it showed in every pant, every strained moan that escaped your trembling lips.

And Spencer kept going, his own breath coming in short, heated bursts as he listened to every sound you made, each one spurring him on, relishing the way he was drawing these noises from you. It was like music to his ears, a melody he never wanted to end, as your moans grew louder, more frantic, until you finally tumbled over the edge, your voice breaking in a long, shuddering cry of release.

Spencer sat back, a smug grin playing at the corners of his lips as he wiped his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. He started to rise, heading toward the control panel. “I’m going to hit record. I’ll be back in a second.”

You blinked, still catching your breath, and reached out to stop him. “Wait… you didn’t already record that?”

He turned to you, that same smug smile deepening. “Of course not,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “A good vocalist always warms up first.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re something else, Spencer Reid.”

He leaned in, his voice low and dripping with confidence. “Besides,” he added, his tone playfully serious, “I think this next take is going to be a hit.”

And he was right.

When you showed Spencer the plaque for the double platinum record, his eyes lit up with pride. “So,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “are you going to give me writing credit for this?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I think we can keep that our little secret.”

[reinawritesstuff]

featuring: rindou haitani x reader notes: nothing but pure fluff, friends to lovers, and rindou learning how to decipher his own emotions

Summary: rindou discovering what love is and how the object of his affection happens to be you

Rindou couldn't explain how it all started or what it was about you made his feelings evolve into something more.

When he first met you, all he could say was that he felt indifferent and you seemed like every other person he ever met. You weren't a fighter apart from any gang, just a regular person who lived a life so different from his own. You didn't like violence nor could he say you were comfortable with seeing people getting hurt. It made sense to him why it was the way it was since you were essentially opposites with no chance of getting along.

It was like fate was mocking him by letting you two meet everywhere he went. Not only did he attend the same school as you - you were his classmate by complete chance, thus increasing the likelihood of him seeing you. All he could do was ignore you whenever you attempted to talk to him every morning before classes would start. Why? He didn’t know, but he also didn’t know why you were so nice to him either despite him ignoring you. He assumed at some point you would figure it out; maybe you did but chose to ignore it.

However, over time, he just couldn’t do it. You were nice and he could see it. He'd be an idiot to not see you were friendly because you genuinely wanted to be friends, and not someone approaching him with a hidden agenda. He already had enough of the unspoken competition between him and his brother. As much as he loved Ran, he grew tired of living in his shadow and just wanted to be his own person. 

“Why do you even bother with me? You know I deliberately ignored you right?” He remembered asking you one day when you both were eating ice cream together.

You looked over at him in surprise “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Like trying to befriend me and whatnot. I’ve never seen anyone as insistent as you” He responded to you nonchalantly, though he would see you huffing in the corner of his eye. “Well excuse me for bothering you with my friendship”

Rindou snorted at the sound of you complaining “I’m not complaining now that I know you. It’s just…” he paused before looking down “I’m used to people approaching me because they need my strength, or they’re just using me as a means to get to Ran and I didn’t know where you were in all of that.”

He was being insecure. He knew he was in the way he was second-guessing his relationship with you. He also knew that saying it would sound as if he was accusing you; but at the same time, he wanted to protect the Rindou in the future; the Rindou who would end up getting hurt the most.

After a moment of silence, he looked over at you to see you in deep thought of yourself. He took that silence as admittance and it did ache him until you opened your mouth. “You know Rindou…I get where you’re coming from, I do. If I were in your place, I probably would be feeling the same way too.” You said with a shrug before you smiled at him, “Can’t speak for others; but for me and I’ll be real now; if I wanted to befriend Ran, I just would’ve done that already.” You continued, greatly emphasizing the ‘if’. “I don’t see why I’d have to get through you to be his friend. Seems like a very roundabout way of doing things if you ask me. I wanted to get to know you because you seemed like a nice guy”

Rindou frowned and scrunched his eyebrows. “You are aware I’m in a gang, right? Unless your standards are that low” to which you nudged his shoulder with a chuckle. “Oh shut it. You know what I mean. As much as I don’t like the whole gang scene, I do like talking to you. I don’t like your taste in music either but I do like the way you get so passionate over it.”

Rindou scoffed as he nudged you right back “And now you’re bashing my taste in music? Has anyone ever told you that you suck at comforting someone?” You rolled your eyes as you laughed at him. “I never claimed to be good at it”

“Clearly”

“Oi!” You huffed at him as you ate the remainder of your ice cream. “The point is, even though we don’t have too many things in common, I still consider you a good friend. You don’t mince words. When you’re happy about something, you genuinely are, and I appreciate that about you.” You said softly, eyes averting away from him. “I feel comfortable around you enough that I can just be myself. It’s usually so hard to have that with people, but it feels so easy around you because you don’t judge.”

“I mean I judge your taste in music”

“Rindou, shut the fuck up. I’m trying to have a moment with you here”

“You certainly became more foul after meeting me” Rindou chuckled, his heart feeling lighter. He never knew how you did it but you always had a way of getting him to smile. When he looked over at you to throw in another jab, he could see the back of your neck and ears red. Were you feeling embarrassed? He never noticed it before but at that moment, you felt cute to him, not that he would ever admit it.

Over the months of getting to know you, he started noticing things about you: your taste in fashion; food you didn’t like and tried to discard secretly, hoping no one would notice; your tells when you were put in situations you weren’t comfortable it. He didn’t know how he noticed it and made those connections in his head, but he did. He once ordered something for you before you could even tell him you wanted it. It was weird, and he didn’t know what it was but he brushed it off as knowing you well enough.

Then there were days when he would feel bitter. He didn’t know if it was directed at you, but he noticed the trend that it always seemed to occur when you happened to be around other people. It was weird to him. Since when did he start feeling bitter about you having other friends? He had friends of his own who had friends of their own but he couldn’t really recall having similar feelings around them, so why was that the case with you?

One day he accidentally stumbled across someone confessing their feelings towards you, and seeing you getting flustered over it. From what normally should’ve been a situation where he would use it as leverage to tease you, he could only feel bitterness grow as he stormed off. Rindou chose to pretend like it never happened as he never once brought it up to you, so he never knew whether or not you were already dating that person.

It was until one day when you had awkwardly brought it up to him during lunch, as you laughed about it, a blush showing clearly across your face.“So are you dating that person now or what?” Rindou asked with an attempt to sound indifferent, trying to mask that bitterness festering again in him. “Oh no, I rejected them. While I did feel guilty, I just don’t see myself dating someone I don’t like.” Rindou’s ears perked up at your words as his heart once again felt lighter. “Oh really? That’s a shame” he responded, this time unable to hide a grin from his face. 

He didn’t know what those feelings were anymore. Was it only because he considers you as a friend or was it something else entirely? He remembered asking Ran one night, who only laughed at him and told him he’d figure it out eventually. Certainly no help there in giving him answers.

Heading into the cooler months, as the seasons changed from summer to fall, he still hadn’t figured anything out to his dismay. Damn Ran and his insistence to not tell him anything, yet did everything to make fun of him.

Rindou then heard a ding from his phone, snapping him out of his thoughts. He received a message from you asking him if he’d like to see the trees with you. He was amused at your timing, it was like you knew he was thinking about you. He responded with a ‘yes’ without hesitation.

The both of you had agreed to meet up at the park, and Rindou had arrived there momentarily so that he wouldn’t keep you waiting any longer. Upon reaching you, he was surprised to see you already there with coffee in hand for both of you. “You got here fast, and with coffee too?” He asked with a chuckle, taking the coffee from you. “I was already at the park when I messaged you, so when you said yes I figured I might as well get some coffee too as thanks.” Rindou hummed in response as he sipped his coffee. It was exactly how he preferred it.

As you both took a stroll around the park, he couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing how excited you were over the leaves changing color. “Does seeing trees make you that happy?” He asked with a tease. You shook your head with a sigh “Geez, it’s not just about the trees. It’s about appreciating the way it looks. It can be pretty to look at if you give it a chance.”

Rindou turned his head in the direction of the trees, staring at the leaves. Some of them were still green, but you could see them slowly transitioning into a vibrant orange. “Uh huh…I guess,” he said unimpressed by it. He wasn’t someone who cared for nature all that much, but he did it because you liked it. As he turned his head to speak to you, he couldn’t help but pause at seeing how enamored you almost seemed at the sight of the leaves. 

Just then, he saw a singular leaf fall from the tree and land directly on your head.  “Looks like you’re becoming one with nature already hmm?” He said with a laugh, as he plucked the leaf from your hair, handing it to you instead. His eyes widened as he saw your eyes light up, giving him a wide smile in return. He doesn’t recall seeing you make that face, but it got his heart racing to the point he felt like time had stopped.

Oh shit

Suddenly everything made sense to him at that very moment. What those feelings were. It was love, wasn’t it?

Rindou couldn’t help but smile now that he found his answer. Not only does he want to see you smile more, he wants to see you smile at him specifically.

“I do see the beauty in it now…” he said with a mumble, his ears turning red at him vocalizing it for the first time.

“Hey, Rin!” You called out to him, not hearing what he said earlier as you were distracted by the leaf. “I guess you could say it really is Fall huh?” you said with a grin on your lips.

Rindou let out a sigh hearing your attempt at making a pun, but that being said he still couldn’t help but smile at you.

You really can’t choose who you fall in love with huh?

[sunshine-jesse]

Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley or

The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping

EDIT:

Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:

Anyways, without further adieu...

I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.

But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.

The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'

That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.

This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.

There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.

Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-

-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.

(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)

It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.

Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?

Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.

EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!

…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.

Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.

It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?

Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:

(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)

Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger. And he was.

(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)

In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole. In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:

And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.

Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.

But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.

And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.

By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.

So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?

(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.

However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)

EDIT OVER

It shows me that their relationship is all about control.

Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.

Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.

He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-

(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)

-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).

SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?

No. I don't think so.

Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.

And that's the point, because so would she.

I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.

In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:

Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.

And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?

Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.

And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-

-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.

It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.

In life...

...or in death.

How romantic.

So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.

[000-pawz]

how taesan loves ( zodiac series ) ˚ · .

how i think taesan would navigate relationships/love/communication based on his natal chart/birth chart!

wc: 1k+

more under the cut!

taesan is "communicative, free, and understanding" when he truly loves.

taesan is a tough shell to crack. because of his gemini moon, he is always looking for excitement and variety, which means that he doesn't "settle down" often. despite this, both his sun and mars are in leo, so he can be very loyal when he genuinely likes someone. he either will have a crush on one person for a very long time, or wait until he finds the perfect person for a long-term relationship.

if he is going to confess, he'll be very detailed and communicative about it. he doesn't take his feelings lightly!!! he's attracted to people who he can have engaging conversations with, learn from, and have witty charm. he's pretty sarcastic himself, so i think he'd also like to have someone who can meet him on that level. other air sign moon placements are a good match for him as they can share their values of freedom and understanding with eachother.

taesan has a high need for variety and change and he can get bored quickly if things stay the same for too long; especially if he feels mentally understimulated. this is why he likes people who are a little unexpected, wild at heart, and have a passion for trying out new things!!! >< introduce him to new music artists, fashion brands, movies, etc.

he'd like dates that involve experiencing the cultures of other cities, road trips, museums, and other things that involve learning ^___^ he'd also like getaway trips to other countries, sightseeing, and stuff like that!

his love language is words of affirmation. he likes to be complimented, whether it be for his taste in fashion, his appearance, his mindset on something, etc. he wants you to think he's cool!!!! and because of his leo placements, he's especially sensitive on his spine, so hugs where you run your fingers up and down his back are ideal <3 also placing your hand on his chest right over his heart when you kiss will have him folding!!!

he is incredibly talkative once he feels comfortable around you. he will talk your ear off for hours if you let him, and please do! communication and sharing ideas and knowledge is one of the best ways to get closer to him. let him info dump about all of his favorite things, and he would like it if you do the same with him!!!

once taesan feels fully safe and commited in a relationship, he can provide you with some of the best security, comfort, and care. with his moon squaring jupiter, he requires the same treatment. he might not be the most emotional person ever, but his loyalty and admiration go a very long way. he can be passionate and driven by desire, so i think people who can match that are a good fit for him. it doesn't seem like he'd be into the "opposites attract" type of thing.

he loves being the center of attention, even though he'll never admit it. taesan is a cancer venus, so he is very sensitive at heart, but he hides behind the dismissive and cold demeanor of his gemini moon. he is very emotionally intelligent and self-aware, preferring to analyze and process his feelings thoughtfully in solitude before confiding in someone.

back to his cancer venus, taesan pays attention to your actions more than your words. don't try to lie about being "okay" if you're going through a hard time because he will see right through you. he'll encourage you to confide in him and if you ask him to, he'll help you figure out how to go about difficult situations.

the biggest area for potential conflict would be his struggle with empathy and concern. don't get me wrong, he does have a genuine interest for his partner's feelings, but sometimes he can be too rational. while he prefers to resolve conflict through communication, he gets really uncomfortable in highly vulnerable or irrational situations. this is where he struggles to incorporate empathy into his communication style, rather than stating facts over feelings.

if taesan is feeling insecure or rejected, he has a tendency to retreat into himself. expect pouting fits and silent treatments if you ever make him upset. :< he can get fired up pretty easily if he feels disrespected, humiliated, or mischaracterized. he might even resort to petty tactics to see how much you really care about him. he's a leo-gemini sun/moon so he has no shame in playing games with you. he'll probably do and say things to get a reaction out of you, like trying to make you jealous or pity him. he can also hold grudges for a bit too (cancer venus lol)

once he has enough alone time to sort out his emotions, with his mercury in virgo, he'll probably organize all of his thoughts in his notes app before sitting down with you to talk because he hates when his words are skewed or taken out of context. he likes serious communication to be neat and thorough. screaming fights and intense arguments make him shut down and go ghost, so communication should be respectful and calm. when he's clear-headed, he can see from multiple points of view very well; "i see where you're coming from", "i understand why you feel that way and i'm sorry".

how can you make taesan feel loved? firstly, be understanding. he may have bouts of criticism and pessimism, so understand that this is just who he is and it's never directed at you or your character! he thinks that being understood and communicating needs and wants clearly are the most important things. he wants you to truly know him and you can show that in whatever way feels best. secondly, be free and full of whimsy! take him out to dance in the rain, roll down a grassy hill...just enjoy those unexpected moments with him.

taesan is truly a big kid at heart, but has built up these walls around him which leads him to being extremely independent. he wants his partner to value independence as much as he does, and understand that they can still be each other's safe spaces. he wants to be able to let his guard down around you, so be open-minded and love him through it all. he'll do the same for you <3

reblogs are greatly appreciated! lmk what u think or if you have any other takes!!! i'm always open to learning more :o thank u...<3

series masterlist

masterlist

[world0fmadness]

STITCHIN’ UP MY HEART

max verstappen x cosplayer! youtuber! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for max with a cosplayer partner!

୨୧ i’m so crazy excited for lollipop chainsaw repop so you know i just had to include a cosplay of my favourite girl ever, juliet starling! i really hope you guys are liking the headcanons so far, i’m actually finding them easier to work with than smau <3

♡ view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: superhero by hiroaki takahashi - everglow by shift up - snake eater by cynthia harrell

♡ you guys met after he stumbles across one of your videos on youtube!

୨୧ he knows what cosplaying is, obviously, and though he’d never really looked into it that much before there’s just something about your face in the thumbnail and the beautiful smile on your face that makes him click on it…

♡ he watched it all the way through <3

୨୧ he thought you were one of the most creative and passionate people he’d ever came across on the web and loved how softly you explained things to the viewer, speaking into the camera as if he was really there next to you and you’d been friends for years

♡ your videos very quickly became a source of comfort for max, he felt like you were such a well meaning soul and just loved your voice

୨୧ eventually, he gets the courage to send you a message on social media, professing his love for your videos and how passionate you are, offering you a vip paddock pass if you’d ever like to come to a race and chat with him

♡ to say you’re confused would be an understatement… who is this verified guy in your messages? f1? i mean, you know a little about it like how a lot of people watch it and it’s people driving fast cars but you don’t watch it

୨୧ but max’s message is just so sweet and heartfelt, you almost can’t believe it came from someone as famous as him… you thought most famous people were supposed to be snobby?

♡ eventually, you message him back! extending your gratitude for his viewership and kind words, making sure he knows how much they mean to you and you agree to visit the paddock, mainly just to have a conversation with max as you’re now enamoured with how sweet he is

୨୧ max practically screams in happiness when you accept his offer, already thinking over how he’ll greet you in person, and sends all the details over to you

♡ when the day to meet finally comes, you dress casual, not really knowing ( or caring ) about the “ right ” way to dress for an f1 race

୨୧ when you meet him, he’s surprisingly a little shy! having watched your videos, now seeing you in person for the first time, it feels like the roles are reversed, it feels like he’s not famous at all, just an awestruck guy meeting a celebrity

♡ you guys have a casual chat over some hot drinks in the paddock, conversation flowing smoothly and peacefully… yeah… you think this is nice… you think he’s nice… you could get used to this

୨୧ little do you know he’s thinking the same <3

♡ eventually, you have to leave but not before making sure he has your number to call you later, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek and bidding him a thank you and goodbye

୨୧ he didn’t want to wash that cheek for a week…

♡ fast forward like, two years and many dates later anddd you’ve been dating for a year and a couple months

୨୧ he’s absolutely your #1 fan, your biggest cheerleader

♡ you make almost all of your costumes by hand, purchasing fabrics and stitching it all

୨୧ so whenever max is out without you and sees some fabric he thinks you’d find useful, he’ll always buy it for you!

♡ sometimes you stream some progress of making your costume and there are SO many fan favourite moments of max popping in and out of the room to check on you

୨୧ him coming to give you some snacks and a drink ( usually a red bull ), asking how the costume is coming along, getting jimmy and sassy out of the room because they keep playing with the threads… even sometimes popping in just for a quick kiss which fans especially love

“ it’s looking good so far liefde, when do you think you’ll be finished with it? ” ( he just admires you with soft eyes and a smile as you tell him how many more days you think it’ll take to be done )

♡ he loves showing people on the grid your latest cosplay photoshoots! he’s like a proud mother, holding his phone up to engineers and other drivers so they can see and telling them all about how long it took you to craft the costume

୨୧ but they don’t mind, max is the happiest they’ve ever seen him with you and some of the drivers ( most of them ) actually think your cosplays are awesome, especially lando! he asks max to pass on recommendations of future cosplays to you and whenever you’re there with max, you and lando are non stop talk machines…

♡ his absolute favourite characters for you to cosplay are really badass girls, he thinks you look especially good in those and your personality fits them so well

୨୧ but he also thinks it’s so fucking cool when you cosplay male characters, keeping your hair the same and just slightly gender-bending the character

♡ one time you cosplayed as john marston from red dead redemption and it just completely rerouted his brain wiring… you think he might have a thing for outlaws now

୨୧ well honestly, you being a cosplayer introduced him to a lot of new attractions that he’d never think of himself having…

♡ when i say he was gagged when you cosplayed as lady dimitrescu from resident evil village, i mean he was fucking gagged

୨୧ he couldn’t get over it, when you walked out of your closet after putting on the costume he was slack jawed for at least two minutes! he almost didn’t want anyone else seeing this one because it just did something so special for him

♡ and don’t even get me started on the time you cosplayed dixie clemets from rumble roses…

୨୧ have you cosplayed aphrodite from god of war III just for max’s eyes before and it ended in your bodies being tangled in the sheets your shared bed, soft lips meeting in a dance of deep love and hushed sounds of pleasure filling the room?

♡ yes, yes you have…

୨୧ and obviously you don’t just cosplay characters because they look cool, you’re a huge gamer and are actually knowledgeable on the characters you’re cosplaying

♡ he absolutely loves when you go on rambles about the character you’re cosplaying! it mainly happens while you’re crafting the costume, you’ll go into a spiel about why this character is so damn good and he’ll just stare at you with his lips turned up in a smile and this look of pure adoration in his eyes ( which is sometimes captured on stream )

୨୧ often times you play games cuddled up on the couch together and he’ll point out characters he thinks would make a great cosplay

“ oh, look at her liefde! that design is pretty, no? i think you’d look pretty in that… ” ( he thinks you’d look pretty in a potato sack )

♡ obviously max streams racing games and what not but you actually get max into playing story games too!

୨୧ though he likes to keep those reserved for just the two of you, very rarely streaming them

♡ one of his favourite types of games to play with you are couch co-op games! brothers: a tale of two sons, unravel, it takes two, overcooked

୨୧ and of course, moving out… oh boy, that game has you guys either laughing so hard and giving yourself stitches or yelling at each other so loud about just going in the right damn direction

“ no! not that way liefde! oh my god, over here, please just come over here and help me with this ” ( you’re never actually angry of course, soft chuckles constantly slipping out in between yells )

♡ whenever you cosplay a character that requires a lot of make-up, he’s always right there waiting for you when you’re done with a make-up wipe in hand, gently helping you remove it all

୨୧ he really helps out a lot with stuff! whatever you need, he’ll try and help… holding down two pieces of fabric while you stitch them together? he’s on it! searching for a very particular patterned fabric? he’ll be looking at online stores every spare second he has! he says it feels good to help you

♡ and what a good helper he is…

yncosplays: this month’s cosplays so far! the latest being my favourite girl, juliet starling ( and a special someone’s head as nick ) this is my favourite one so far… watch how i made it here!

maxynforever: is that max’s head… ?

> f1lover: oh my god, it is 😭

maxverstappen ✔️: beautiful as always liefde! i’m always blown away by your talent to craft these costumes… though i must ask, was making a replica of my head to hang off your hip absolutely necessary?

> yncosplays: yes, yes it was <3

maxverstrapon: i don’t know wether to be impressed or slightly freaked out about seeing a replica of max’s head on her hip…

[verperina]

It Was Just for One Night

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader 

Summary: What was only supposed to be a one-time thing turns into a two-time thing.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 5,666

Author's Note: This is my first time writing in a while and my first time writing for Throne of Glass/SJM’s work. I’ve never published anything on here before, so please don’t be too harsh. I hate the dialogue and the smut, but oh well. Massive credit to @autumnshighlady for helping me with the smut and for being so kind.

You feel the faint touch of a phantom hand ghost along the skin of your bare back, leaving goosebumps. You suppress a shudder. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face, making your heart beat faster. You raised the glass of red wine to your lips and swallowed a mouthful down, trying to appear calm with your father standing beside you, conversing with another lord. They were talking about something that you had no interest in or care enough to act like you were listening to them.

His eyes were on you. Watching you. Always watching you. You finally let your eyes meet the king’s gaze and they were filled with pure hunger and desire. His sapphire eyes slowly trailed the entire length of your body, taking in the dark navy satin dress that had been gifted to you this morning. You weren’t even aware who had gifted you the dress, but it was obvious now. From the way his lips twitched and the hunger in his eyes became more and more apparent.  

It had only been a month since you and Dorian had slept together. A drunken fueled haze that had been filled with pure carnal desire. It was a one-time thing. You knew it would never happen again, but it didn’t mean that you would if it did. He had been a very generous and a very passionate lover. Making sure that you had found release, multiple times, before finding his own. When he finished, he asked if you were okay, dressed himself and left your chambers and that was it. You weren’t expecting anything after. It would be foolish to think so. 

You were surprised that the king had chosen you of all people to bed. You had heard that when Dorian was still the prince he was a harlot, so surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone more appealing since he’s the King of Adarlan.

After that night there were times when both of you would be in the same room and you would make yourself never look in his direction, or he would talk to your father about diplomatic matters and rather quickly, you would excuse yourself. You didn’t want anyone to find out. You could only imagine the scandal it would cause.

An older man was talking to Dorian, and the king nodded his head, pretending that he was listening. His crown gleaming in the light, rings decorating his long fingers, dressed exquistely, and seated on his throne full of pride. He was beautiful and he knew it too. 

You forced yourself to divert your gaze, focusing instead on the people dancing to the music and the decorations that adorned the room for the Yulemas ball. But you felt it again. That phantom touch. And this time, it wasn’t faint. It felt more apparent. More forceful. 

The touch stroked the length of your spine before landing on the curve of your backside, trailing downwards until it reached the back of your thigh, and gave a soft squeeze. You purse your lips as your hand clenches the stem of the wine glass, face warming, and you quickly glance at your father and the other lord, making sure they weren’t paying attention to what was happening, before looking back toward Dorian to see his eyes were still on you. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smug look on his face.

Arrogant prick. You couldn’t believe he was choosing to do this in a room full of people. Especially with your father right next to you. You shot a subtle look at Dorian, but it only seemed to amuse him. He cocked his head to the side, a mocking gesture, daring you to do something. The tension was starting to become too much. 

You swallowed.

“I’m going out to the garden for some air,” you said quietly to your father. He waved his hand in dismissal and continued his conversation with the man. You placed your glass down on the nearest table and began weaving your way through the crowds of people, careful to not get anyone’s wine on your dress. You could feel Dorian’s gaze burning through the back of your head, following your every movement. 

When you walked outside you inhaled the air, welcoming it into your lungs and letting the cold breeze cool your flushed body. Everything had felt too warm and crowded inside that room. Too overwhelming.

Snow fell from the sky, landing on the ground and kissing it a beautiful white. A few snowflakes landed in your hair. The wind was lightly blowing, making your skin prickle. You pulled a single rose from a bush, careful to not cut your fingers on any of the thorns. The rose was a deep, luscious shade of red with soft petals. You lifted the flower to your nose and inhaled its sweet and floral scent. There was a soft crunch in the snow behind you. Footsteps. You didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to. 

“That is a very beautiful dress,” Dorian said, his voice smooth. You turned your head to the side and met his gaze. Pure mirth in his stare. His raven black hair shining in the moonlight. “You look rather flustered.”

You kept your face blank, feeling a small hint of annoyance starting to bubble up inside of you. “Are you mad?”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “No, ‘Your Majesty’?” 

A roll of your eyes. “Are you mad, Your Majesty?” 

He grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.”

"My father was right there,” you huffed. “He could have seen. Anyone could have seen.”

“Yes, but no one did.”

“I’m not an exhibsionist.”

“I apologize, my lady.” He gave a mocking bow.

“Is this a game to you?” you ask, turning to face him fully. 

His brows slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun. We both did,” you explained. “It was a one-time thing, so why did you give me this dress and why did you do that in there?”

He was quiet for a moment, studying you, and then he said, “What if I want it to become a two-time thing?”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” you say cautiously. Surely, he wasn’t serious.

“I get to enjoy your presence once more,” he answered. “I rather enjoyed myself the last time.”

You try to hide your surprise, but he caught it. You kept your eyes on him, furrowing your eyebrows, and wondered why he wanted to sleep together again, with you, when he could have anyone else. You weren’t completely turned-off to the idea. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it.

In the dead of night, you would let your fingers slip inside your wet cunt and fantasize about his hands wrapping around your throat, his teeth tugging on your nipple, and his cock thrusting inside of you. The sound of his groans and your moans, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You felt a flutter low in your stomach. Your throat bobbed.

“We could enjoy each other’s company once more.” 

“What if someone finds out?” You cross your arms across your chest. “It would make things difficult for you, but mostly for me.”

“The guards wouldn’t say anything,” he reassured. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Surely the absence of your presence has been noted.”

“I announced that I was retiring for the night and told everyone to continue partying.”

“What if someone sees?”

“Everyone is too busy drinking and dancing,” he paused for a moment, looking you up and down, noticing that your body was stiff. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you not want to? If not, then it’s fine, I don’t mean to place pressure on you.”

You could tell that Dorian’s words were genuine. His face was soft and patient, waiting for you to respond. “I want to,” you admitted. His eyes became bright at your words. “I just don’t want to complicate things.” He waited for you to continue. “You’re the King of Adarlan. I don’t think people would be pleased to know that you’ve bedded me. I would probably be seen as a woman who tempted the king for money and power; as a whore.”

“It's no one's business what I do, or what you do. I am the king. My guards know to keep their mouths shut, especially the ones that are stationed outside my chambers. If anyone does find out, then you can come to me, and I will deal with it.” 

You thought about it for a moment, weighing your options, and glanced around the garden to see that it was still empty. You met his gaze once more and nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice coming out low. He took a step closer to you. 

“Yes.” You licked your lips, and his eyes trailed the movement. You took a step forward, glancing at his lips, tilting your head upwards and parting your lips slightly, giving him permission to kiss you. His hand came to cup your face, his thumb lightly stroking the side of your cheek while his other hand settled on your hip, giving it a hard squeeze.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, and it was then that you could feel the hardness of his cock through his trousers. You leaned your head forward, feeling his breathe as your lips were about to connect-

You jerked back as you let out a low hiss of pain as one of the thorns sliced into the tip of your index finger. A bead of blood pooled at the cut, making your skin sting. Dorian plucked the flower from your hand and brought your finger close to his face, his eyes inspecting the small cut and then he looked at you, a sly look on his face.

“You need to be more careful, dove.” He brought your finger to his lips, pressing light kisses onto the skin slowly, as if savoring the taste of the salt on your skin mixed with your blood. His tongue replaced his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your breath hitched and you could feel wetness start to pool in between your thighs. His teeth harshly nipped at the skin, making a small noise escape your throat. “Dorian,” you moaned quietly. “Please.” Your toes curled. He tossed the rose on the ground, releasing your finger, and brought your lips to his. 

His lips were cold but soft, and you ran your hands through his thick hair, your nails lightly scraping his scalp. You swallowed the groan that left his mouth. His hands are roughly squeezing your backside, pushing you closer to him. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth as you pressed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the aching tension.

“Not here,” you breathed.

He nodded and grabbed your hand, walking both of you out of the garden and through a door that had no one near it, and led the two of you back inside the castle. You had to walk fast to keep up with the strides of his long legs. The halls that he led you through were thankfully empty, not even the guards were positioned in the hallway, it looked like any rarely came through this way. He squeezed your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles. 

The hall to where his chambers came into view and the guards stationed outside didn’t so much as flinch as Dorian neared the door. They only gave a respectful bow to their king, averting their eyes, and pretended to not notice that his hand was interlaced with yours, or that his lips were swollen, and the tanned skin of his cheeks were flushed.

He pushed open the door and led you through his room, quickly closing the door. You stopped in the middle of the room and noticed it was rather untidy; books were open and lying on his desk and the table by the sofa, his bed was unmade, and a few of his clothes were on the floor. But it smelled like him. So much like Dorian.

Your back was facing Dorian, his footsteps sounding closer, the sound of his crown being placed gently on a table, and then he was right behind you. His front pressed against your back, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin, making you meet his gaze, sapphire eyes were blazing. His forehead rested against yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

Your breathing was growing heavier.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand released your chin, moving your head back to its original position and his free hand came to rest on your hip. His hand then wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly, and tilted your head back. Dorian’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear before his teeth tugged on the lobe of your ear, biting gently.

The hand on your waist moved until it was settled right above your pelvis, pushing you back so you could feel his cock. You slightly shifted your hips, grinding your ass on his hardened length, and you were pleased when a low groan left him.

He left a trail of rough kisses down the column of your throat, teeth occasionally nipping and harshly sucking on the flesh, marking you as his. Quiet moans escaping your lips as you let your body lean more into him.

The thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Phantom hands came to cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your dress, squeezing before pinching your peaked nipples, hard. 

A hiss left you, arching your back away from his body, but his hand pushed you back against him and held you tightly, and grabbed your face again, placing his lips on yours. The tip of your tongue meeting his own. Heat bloomed in your core. He bit your bottom lip as he removed the dress from your body and let it fall to the floor. You turned around, arms snaking around his neck and pulling at the thick strands of his hair. 

Both of his hands grabbed yours as he pulled his lips away from yours. Breathing heavily, he guided you toward his large bed. His cheeks were a flushed red and his once neat hair was messy from you dragging your fingers through it.

You climbed onto the bed and sat up on your knees, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again. His hand came to cup the side of your ass, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching before a harsh smack came down, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Your body jolted forward and you let out a loud, breathy moan. You felt yourself becoming more aroused. 

“You like how that feels?” Dorian asked. Another harsh smack came down, on the opposite side this time, when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you groaned, head tipping back in pleasure.

“I’m going to take good care of you.” The words sounded like a promise.

You tugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. You took off his tunic next, revealing the pale line on his tan skin from where the collar had been, and strong, firm muscle. Your hand came to cup his cock through his black trousers. Dorian hissed, eyebrows slightly creasing together in pleasure. You press light kisses on the pale part of his neck, sucking harshly, leaving love bites of your own and running your tongue over the bruised flesh.

He grabbed you by the neck, putting his lips back on yours. His kiss was deliberately slow. Teasing. Savoring the taste of the red wine on your lips. His fingers are pulling at the hair at the nape of your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his length against your stomach. Fingertips pressing into the curve of your neck as his tongue sweeps over your mouth. 

You moan into the kiss, feeling his phantom hands squeezing your ass, tracing the band of your underwear. His fingertips brush over your nipples. They’re cold with his ice magic. You shiver and his mouth curves in delight. The tip of Dorian’s nail grazes the hardened bud before he bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth. Your underwear is sticky with your arousal.

He keeps his eyes on you, watching how your head tips back, how your lips part as you begin moaning breathily. He rolls your other nipple between his thumb and index finger, leaving goosebumps on your skin from the coldness of his flesh. He sucks roughly, moaning around the bud as you pull at his hair, and then he tugs at your nipple with his teeth. His tongue laps over it before he begins sucking again. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him grin in satisfaction.

Dorian releases the abused flesh and he starts repeating the same motions on the other nipple, but this time it’s harsher, more animalistic. His hand starts trailing down your stomach and then cups your clothed cunt. A chuckle leaves his lips at what he found. “You’re so wet.” 

He dips his hand in your underwear and runs a finger through your folds. You start to slowly move your hips, rubbing your clit on the heel of his palm to relieve the aching tension. “Stay still,” he warns, “or I’ll stop.” You groan in frustration, but comply, hesitantly. He circles the entrance to your hole, gathering the wetness that had pooled there, and then slips a finger inside of you.

Your back arches the same time as you let out a choked moan. You clench around him, fighting the urge to rub your clit against his palm. Painfully slow, in a teasing manner, he thrusts his finger in and out. He takes his time in stretching you out. Your voice is husky as you say, “Kiss me.” You open your eyes to see that he’s already looking at you. Pure desire in his gaze. 

“Kiss me,” you repeat again. He obliges. There’s nothing gentle or soft about the kiss. It’s messy and fast and rough. Your teeth are clashing against each other, desperate to taste each other. Your breaths are labored, trying to breathe in more air.

He enters a second finger and when you gasp, he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders before brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

“Since that night I’ve thought of doing this again,” Dorian admitted. “I fucked myself to the thought of you. Imagining it was you stroking my cock.”

His words made you clench around his fingers. You could picture it. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the pillows, and his hand gripping his cock, squeezing hard. His groans coming out hoarsely, loudly. There was a sense of triumph in knowing that you had made the King of Adarlan fantasize about you. It was satisfying. 

“So have I,” you also admitted. 

“Tell me,” he demanded.

You swallowed. “I shoved my fingers inside my cunt and wished that it was yours instead. I thought of your tongue on my cunt, of your hand around my throat and your cock inside me.” 

Dorian’s fingers thrust faster the same time phantom hands tug at your nipples, a warm feeling blooming low in your stomach. Your moans were coming out in short gasps. “Dorian.” Your fingernails leave marks on his broad shoulders and your head tips back. “I’m so close.” The pressure that had been building was becoming more intense. He whispers words of encouragement and praise. 

And with a curl of his fingers you cry out, arching your body into him as your orgasm hits you. Your breath comes out in stutters, your body jerking and your knees trembling. His phantom hands help keep you upright. He coaxes you through it. And when your moans cease, he very slowly removes his fingers from your cunt with a squelching sound. 

He brings them to his face, inspecting the wet sheen on them. Dorian smiles. “Look at how soaked you are.” Your arousal coats his entire hand, dripping down to his wrist. And while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he puts his digits into his mouth and tastes your juices. Your breath hitches. His sapphire eyes darken considerably. 

The palm of his hand rests on your collarbone and he gently pushes you until your back is lying on the bed. He reaches forward and rips off the lacy material of your underwear. After tossing them across the room he takes a step back and greedily takes in the sight of you; a thin sheen of sweat is covering your body, your nipples are red and swollen from where he sucked and bit on them, and your cunt is dripping wet. 

“I need you,” your voice snaps Dorian out of his daze.

He starts to undo the button of trousers and pushes them down, removing his undershorts also. He steps out of them quickly and tosses them aside, and his cock slaps against his abdomen hard. You take in the sight; the fine patch of dark hair, the tip of his cock is red and leaking with his arousal.

You lick your lips, desperate to have his cock in your mouth. The previous time you fucked each other, you only briefly got to lick him, and you had forgotten what he’d tasted like.

He wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a firm stroke. He hisses. “You see what you do to me?”

Dorian walks forward, kneels on the bed and uses his phantom hands to restrain your wrists to the mattress. He lowers himself between your legs and an almost pained look crosses his features as he stares at your core, wet and gleaming for him.

It was a slow torture, him slowly kissing the inside of your thighs, nipping at skin and leaving love bites. His thumbs draw circles into your hips, and you keep squirming, wanting his tongue on your most sensitive part, but he seemed keen on the idea to tease you.

“Dorian,” you rasped. He would continue teasing until you begged for it. It’s what he wanted. You held his gaze and watched as he waited, a grin was on his face, but you could see his body trembling with restraint to keep himself from ravishing you. “Please.”

He cocks his head to the side, mockingly, and his grin is feline. “Because you asked nicely. . .”

Dorian took a long, languid lick up the center of your core. You let out a moan in relief and your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding up and down you, tasting you thoroughly. He peppers kisses along your cunt before he starts licking again. 

One of his hands comes up to pinch your nipple and you buck your hips against his face, but he throws an arm across your waist to keep you still. He wraps his lips directly around your clit and you cry out as he starts sucking the sensitive nub. You struggle against the phantom hands that bound your wrists. You want to run your fingers through his hair grind against his face.

Grabbing your thighs, Dorian drapes them over his shoulders to hold you closer and keeps his eyes pinned to your face. He wanted to watch you come on his tongue. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling ever so slightly. 

“Right there,” you gasp.

You watch as he presses his hips hard against the mattress and begins rutting against it, a soft groan leaving him and it vibrates through your core.

You try to free your hands from his magic, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.” You look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me touch you.” Finally, those phantom hands release their grip on you.

Your body writhes and your fingers rake through his black hair to push him closer, nails scratching along his scalp. Your cries of pleasure encourage him to keep going. His teeth scraping your clit is what makes you climax. His fingers quicken their pace, tongue moving faster, letting you ride out your high.

It leaves you trembling with needing more, but Dorian removes his tongue and fingers from you and leans back on his knees. His eyes linger on your abused cunt before he looks at you and you stare at him, too. Blue eyes full of adoration. His hair was in disarray, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and his chin and lips were coated with your arousal but he didn’t seem to care.

He looked devastating.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around so you were on your knees, ass in the air, and the side of your face was pressed against the sheets. His hand left a hard smack across your ass cheek making a yelp escape your lips. Dorian’s hands once again grab your hips to bring you close to his face, and his fingers tease your entrance, and you arch your back, urging him to bring you another orgasm again.

He laughed teasingly. “So eager, dove.”

He sticks his tongue inside of your cunt and your entire body shudders. He moans, as if this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. The taste of you was going to haunt him after this was over. The essence of you would haunt him. 

He presses his fingers inside your leaking hole and the pace is fast, desperate to draw a third orgasm from you. Dorian wanted you to come again, and again, and again. He needed you to come again. 

Another harsh slap to your ass has you moaning out his name. Your hands clutch the sheets tightly and you rock your hips against his face, and unlike last time, he doesn’t try to make you stay still. He lets you grind yourself on his face and makes his phantom hands rock your hips to move them faster. The tips of his fingers would leave bruises from how hard their grip was.

Lewd noises were coming out of his mouth and your face warmed from the sounds.

Your body trembles as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly and you feel yourself come again. A loud cry echoing against the walls of his room. He hums against your cunt, letting the vibrations further stimulate you. It isn’t until your whimpering that he finally relents. You’re panting, strands of hair clinging to your forehead, and your knees give out beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Dorian praised. He presses a kiss against your spine. And then another. His hand rubbing your red backside from the slaps he gave. His ice magic soothing the tender skin.

“Dorian,” you mumble.

“Are you okay?” he asks, running a strong hand down the length of your spine gently. Your skin prickles.

You manage a weak nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you murmur. Your eyelids were heavy and the perspiration felt sticky on the nape of your neck.

He helps turn you around so you’re laying on your back. You drink in the sight of him and he does the same. Dorian’s lips were shining with your arousal and his cock looked painfully hard. You wanted to kiss him. You reached out a trembling hand, and he eyed it before taking hold of it and leaning over you, bracing his body weight on his elbows. His nose brushes yours softly.

“Kiss me,” you breathe. He brought his mouth to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You were both frantic and desperate, and didn’t want to pull your mouths apart from each other. 

You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along the sharp cheekbone as your other hand played with the strands of his hair. His body was trembling and whatever self-control he had left was slipping away.

You reach a hand down, gripping his length and give it a lazy stroke. He makes a soft noise at the touch, slowly moving his hips as you start pressing kisses onto his collarbones. His forehead resting on top of yours, eyes closed and savoring the moment. You run your thumb over the slit, gathering moisture before giving a gentle squeeze that makes a low growl leave Dorian. That last bit of self-control was completely gone.

He takes his cock and lines the head of it up with your cunt and in one motion, he fully sheaths himself inside of you. A sigh of contentment leaves the pair of you. His pace starts off slow, languid. Your hips roll against his, trying to find a rhythm that matches. His hands roam over the sides of your body before landing on your plush hips. Fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Tell me how you feel.” He licked the side of your throat.

“Good,” you pant. “So good.” 

“You like me being inside you?” His tone was teasing, mocking, but you could hear how gravelly he sounded.

“Yes.” 

He presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. Tongue flicking over both nipples. Your legs lock around his trim waist, bringing him closer to you and you clench tightly around him, and his hips jerk, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from you both. Your head tips back in bliss and your entire body is buzzing from pleasure.

Dorian’s eyes were a shade of blue so dark they looked like the freezing cold waters of the sea. He moans out your name like a prayer and dips down to kiss you again, as if one isn’t enough. Your hands run up and down his chest, the tip of your nail scraping his nipple. His thrusts were becoming rougher, deeper, more punishing than before. Your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.

One of his phantom hands started rubbing your clit and a low pressure was beginning to bloom in your belly, making a breathy gasp leave you. The walls of your cunt start contracting. Hot, heavy, open-mouthed kisses leave a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. It was messy. Both of you were moaning into each other’s mouth. Both of you sounded so needy.

Dorian buried his face into the crook of your neck. A cry left your lips as his teeth bit down on your skin. His thrusts were brutal, each one bringing you closer to the edge, hips snapping into yours hard enough that the headboard was banging against the wall. He obviously didn’t care if someone heard. And neither did you. The fingers on your clit were moving faster and your body was shaking. “Please, please, please. . .”

That familiar coil settled in your lower abdomen snaps. Your back arching off the bed as you come, the walls of your cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck. Nails leaving red marks on his shoulders and down his back, and toes curling from the overstimulation.

Dorian fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder and his thrusts harsher; he was going to come. He breathes out a desperate, pleading noise, leaning down until his forehead is pressed against yours. He fucks into you harder. The sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the room. You give him words of encouragement, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

He comes with a deep, guttural groan. His hips stuttering. And you feel his seed spill into you as he rides out his high, fingertips gripping your hips so tight bruises would probably appear. His thrusts start to slow down before eventually stopping, and he pauses for a moment, panting heavily, before collapsing on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer.

You brush back the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead. Both of your bodies are shaking and slick with sweat. His breath tickles your skin. 

There were no noises in the room anymore save for the sounds of both of you gasping for air, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Dorian’s fingers loosened their tight grip on your hips and rubbed the flesh tenderly. A sigh of contentment left you. A passionate and generous lover indeed.

You could feel him start to grow restless. You unlocked your legs from around his waist and he gently pulled out from you with an almost inaudible hiss, and rolled onto his back right beside you, trying to catch his breath. The air in the room grew cold, his magic cooling the both of you off.

Your limbs felt heavy and you could feel his seed spilling out from you. You closed your eyes for a moment, still feeling the tingling sensation all over your body. Deep down you knew that no one would ever fuck you as good as Dorian just had. You didn’t know if this would happen again or if people would find out that you had fucked their king.

A small part of you inside felt sad knowing that you would be staying at the castle for only one more month before leaving to go back to your city. But you knew it was just sex. You didn’t expect anything more. It would be foolish to.

You could feel Dorian’s eyes burning into the side of your head, his lips parting. “Perhaps we should do this again.” The words were spoken nonchalantly, but you picked up on the tinge of nervousness. “Make it a three-time thing.”

You lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, making yourself appear calm, and felt a grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Alright, bet...

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: John Egan wants a date, he's ready to do anything to have it...

Warning: Flirting/ allusion to sex/ historical inaccuracies/ alcohol/ use of Y/n/ Swearing.

The bar was crowded, and it was full of soldiers and women hoping to get the attention of the soldiers. The music was loud, and the smell of alcohol was filling the nostrils of everyone stepping inside the bar. Y/n and her friends were on a girl's night out. She was a dancer, she danced in bars, it was her way of making money. No husband and parents were not happy with her career choice. She was alone. When they stepped inside the bar, they were amazed at how many men in uniform were inside. "Is it a new military base?" One of her friends, Ollie, asked. "I don't know, but I have a thing for men in uniform," Jocelyn said. Making the girls laugh.

John Egan was drinking. He was going on the base tomorrow and wanted to enjoy his last night before duty calls. When he saw her enter, he thought she was beautiful. Her presence in the room was hot. She stepped near the bar, ordering drinks. They made brief eye contact before she was dragged by her friends at a table. He had a new objective tonight: Get a date with her. He was watching her, laughing, talking and smiling to something her friend said. He clearly needed to talk to her.

When the girls saw a man approaching the table, they squealed, How was this handsome man going to talk to? "Good evening, ladies. Can I buy you something to drink?" Egan said, leaning against the table. Y/n smirked. It was the same man that she'd made eye contact with earlier. They looked at each other, making it clear who the chosen one. "We're good, but our friend here wants another one," Ollie said, pointing to Y/n. She mentally hit her, way to make it obvious, she thought. Y/n got up her seat and walked with Bucky to the bar. "I'm John, but call me Bucky," he said to her. "Y/n," She said, looking at him. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?" He flirted. "Drinking, just like you. I'm not working tonight, I thought I could go out and have some fun. What are you doing here, Bucky?" His name rolled on her tongue. He grins as he orders two shots of whisky. "Same thing as you, what do you do for work?" He asked, handing her the shot. "I'm a showgirl, I sing and dance to entertain people," She boldly said. She grew more confident about her job. At first, she'd lie about it. But now, she didn't care about the other people's opinions. They both drank the liquid and smiled. "You sing?" He asked. She nodded, looking at him.

"What would it take to get a date with you?" Bucky asked. They didn’t know how much they both drank or how many time had passed, but they both went to sit at a table. Just the both of them, her friends had left. She giggled when he mentioned a date. "Are you asking me out, Bucky?" She said, smiling. "Yup," he admitted. An idea came to her mind. The band was playing music, and it needed vocals. "If you go on that stage and sing a song, I will go out with you." She dared him. A spark in his eyes lit up. If there was one thing that John Egan loved, it was signing. Plus, the alcohol in his system made him more confident. "Alright, bet," he said as he got up his seat. He started to dance a little. The maestro looked confused, but when Bucky took the microphone and started to sing, he understood.

Y/n couldn't believe that he was actually doing it. She laughed as she heard his voice. It was joyful, raspy, and filled with passion. He knew he wasn’t a good singer, but he was getting that date. During the song, he looked directly in Y/n's direction. He had a huge smile on his face, and so did she. He was really committed to the song, and when there weren't any lyrics to sing, he was dancing again. At the end of the song, he took the mic again. "Thank you, I just earned a date!" He cheered. Y/n put her hands in her face. She was going on a date with him...

"I still can't believe you actually sang." She laughed. They both laughed. They left the bar after Bucky's performances. "Yeah, well, I wanted a date," he said, smiling. She looked down, blushing. "Now, what do I have to do to get a kiss?" She said. Bucky was speechless. She just flirted with him. "Nothing, darling, you can kiss me right now," he said. She looked at him, pulled him by his tie, and their lips crashed together. Bucky put a hand on her cheek. When they pulled away, his lips were red and a little bit swollen. "Holy fuck, can I kiss you again?" He asked. She nodded and their lips crashed again. Who would've thought that him singing would've get him that far. He was so gonna brag about it to Buck!

[shiraishi-kanade]

An Shiraishi is always trying to be someone else: a short and messy analysis on how Vivid Street (unintentionally) messed her up

You know, I kind of have my own issues with the "Wishing to the Blue Sky for Your Happiness!" event, but a lot of my criticism of it boiled down to "huh, it's kind of weird how they gave An this insecurity out of nowhere, she didn't struggle with being herself before. Seems to be a reach just so Shizuku could have a role."

But that was before the Vivid Old Tale, and boy I'll admit I was very wrong.

The relationship between An and Nagi are... Very interesting, to say the least.

But there's no doubt that An absolutely idolizes Nagi. Sure, there's been this line about An always wanting to he a musical like her father, but we also know that for the most part, it was Nagi who taught her to sing, as well as Nagi who acted as An's mentor figure in a more emotional way.

In a way, An won the lottery. She was born into a family that loves her, into a community thay loves her, and just so happened to be talented and passionate about something that community values most. However, that talent has left her little to no space to actually... See herself as someone outside of it.

Now, none of this is actually necessarily negative by default. Having high expectations to one's children isn't necessarily bad either; with the right approach, it can make them grow and want to grow. We've also seen this happen with Touya in his childhood, which us another neat parallel.

But, unlike Touya, An has been very comfortable in her role, precisely because of her talent and being able to reach the very high bar raised for her. That comfort just... never made her reach out to something other than the place and the future she was already familiar with, because she never needed to. She was Ken's daughter and she was talented and everyone in town loved her and she promised to be the better than her dad and everyone took her seriously. What else could she possibly need?

In a way, An had her dole cut out to her before she was even born.

And then there's Nagi.

Yes, Nagi is An's role model. But there's more to that than just An looking up to her.

More than just being taught by her, An actually picks up Nagi's mannerisms, forms or speech, and even moral values (pretty much the entire point of Vivid Old Tale).

An saw, too, how much Nagi meant for the people of Vivid Street. She wanted to mean as much for them, too; rather, she already did mean as much, but she needed to be someone to justify being loved. It's not necessarily a conscious thought process but more of a subtle one: if you notice your community loves some traits of you more than the others, or values some aspects of you more, you start to lean more and more into them in order to fit in and be accepted.

For An, those particular traits were being talented, being Ken's daughter, but also... Being very similar to Nagi.

Them acting "like sisters" has been highlighted over

and over

and over again, even by people unfamiliar with Nagi, well into An's teenage years.

And it's not exactly... A complete coincidence on everyone's part. At one point, Nagi openly states she wants An to be like her, to be able to see things from the same perspective. At least to some extent, some of the actions Nagi takes to make that happen are completely deliberate.

So An tries to be like Nagi. This is both a conscious effort on her part and something that just... Is sort of a hidden force that shapes her into who she is. If you watch Nagi and compare even the way she talks with people of the town to the more mature, somewhat-grown up but not quite there yet An we have today... There's so many similarities it's uncanny. An is still much more hot-headed and impulsive, but that caring, considerate side of her shines through even more than before.

An doesn't try to deny or hide that, too. In fact, she's actually pretty proud of it.

(Whether Ken lied to her to make her feel better or if that expression was just a reaction to being reminded of Nagi passing away & the masquerade that followed after that, we'll never know.)

But here's the kicker: there's so much of Nagi in An it's hard to pinpoint where Nagi-san's traits end and An's own personality begins, if it even does. Because of how early has everyone decided on An's future, and because An never did anything to even hint at wanting to do something different (which she didn't! Sometimes people want to continue their family's legacy and that's completely normal and fine - again, she just got really lucky, both with her talent and supportive surroundings), An subconsciously kind of accepted that being like Nagi is... Just who she is.

That comes with taking on Nagi's part in the community, too. In the same way Nagi took care of everyone in town by helping them out at events, so too, does An - just to a much lesser extent, by going out of her way to keep in touch with everyone, going to events, and helping at a cafe, too.

But An doesn't purposely mold or change her personality to be like her role model, too. This is important: An doesn't wear a mask because she doesn't need to. In her mind, she already is like Nagi, or at least, she's on track to be, without doing particularly anything different. Because they're just so similar they're so close and practically behave like sisters, and because An grew up singing in the town exactly like Nagi did, and because she loves the town just like Nagi did - what else could An possibly need to do except get better at singing and get more grown up?

You know, to reach that mature and down-to-earth side of Nagi that we often see in the past?

That side?

Yeah.

Now the Shizuan event's conflict isn't so out of place, is it?

But anyway, back to the point.

Because of Nagi wording things the way she does and because of people on Vivid Street making such a point of their similarities, An naturally assumed she would eventually become like Nagi. This is why, even aside from Kohane's improvement, aside An's abandonment issues, Kick It Up a Notch is a giant slap to the face for An, as well as her wake-up call.

Kohane taking on Nagi's mantle before An was able to, or potentially ever could, isn't just about singing - it's an attempt at An's entire sense of self, just as well as her place in the world, and on the smaller sense, her hometown, too.

Because if An is not Nagi, she doesn't belong.

Because An never knew how to do anything but sing. Because becoming like her family, like Nagi, was the only option she ever imagined for herself ever since she was a child.

And if An is not Nagi, then who the hell is she?

[this post was very much inspired by @the-one-that-weeps 's An analysis post, who kind of put this much more eloquently than I could! Go check them out.

All translated lines that aren't taken from the wiki transcripts are by lozybug on YouTube!]