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feelingsdumpcaptain · 5 months

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her heart isn't gone

A/N: this is literally just a bunch of drabbles put into one post :') and yes, maybe i was listening to his car isn't yours on repeat as i worked on this. i haven't written in awhile so i'm a little rusty but i can't keep editing this so sorry for any inconsistencies.

Words: 8.6k (haha whoops!)

Emily briskly makes her way toward the cafe near the hotel, hoping to get a chance at a pastry. She could feel the sun warming her back and she regrets the blazer thrown over her longsleeve. It was peak summer and the team arrived in Carmel late last night so the heat hadn’t set in yet. Now that she feels the heat early this morning, she wonders how much warmer it can get.

She tugs on the cafe door, the smell of freshly baked goods surrounding her. Her mouth waters and her stomach rumbles as she considers the different options.

Lemon blueberry muffin, almond croissant, cheese strudel, banana bread…

She decides on the lemon blueberry muffin but just as she’s about to ask for it, she watches as they take the last one and place it into a bag. Her eyes follow, seeing them hand it over to a woman at the register and sighs.

Emily makes her way to the front and glances at the coffee menu. “Hi, one salted cream vanilla latte and an almond croissant, please.”

Once she pays, she steps off to the side and pulls out her phone to check for any messages.

JJ (5:53 AM): Is anyone up for a run? Morgan (6:03 AM): Sorry, some of us have already finished our workout ;) Garcia (8:48 AM): Do you people ever sleep???

Emily huffs a small laugh. She goes to reply but hears her name called for her order and puts her phone away. She grabs her drink and croissant and goes to throw a ‘thanks!’ over her shoulder as she heads out. As excited as she is about her drink, it’s short-lived when she feels herself bump into someone else. She only loses her breath from the impact but the coffee in her hand falls from her grip and spills.

She glances down and her eyes meet yours, the one who took the last lemon blueberry muffin. Emily can admit she finds you pretty, even with the dazed look on your face as you look up at Emily. She can feel the heat rush to her face when she realizes she’s just been staring and offers her hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” Emily asks, giving a gentle tug. Her eyes scan your clothes. “Did the coffee spill on you?”

You shake your head, cheeks going pink. “I’m okay, thank you. No coffee stains either.”

Emily’s chest flutters at the flush on your cheeks, keeping her smile small. “As long as you’re not hurt.”

You wave your hand. “Really, I’m okay. Just embarrassed. Here.” You hold out the white paper bag, and Emily realizes it’s the muffin she wanted.

“Oh, no. I can’t.”

“I insist! Please. You spilled your coffee. Or I could buy you another?”

Emily glances at her watch and winces. “I don’t think I have enough time to wait for another one. It’s okay.”

You push the bag into Emily’s free hand. “Take it. It’s delicious. They’re known for these muffins here.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, then. I’m still really sorry about bumping into you. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“No worries. I could say the same for myself.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’m kinda known for being clumsy around town. Anyway, I better go before I embarrass myself even more. If you see me here again, let me know and I’ll buy you your coffee!” You give Emily a small wave and head out.

Emily leans back in her seat, glancing out of the cafe window. She arrived earlier than expected, and the cafe was still quiet. She was able to grab two of the lemon blueberry muffins right as they came out of the oven, two resting on the table. She could feel the chill in the air, but her iced latte probably didn’t help.

She hears the bell over the door ring, her eyes glancing over. Her eyes meet yours, a small smile on her lips.

“You’re here early.” You sit across from her and reach for one of the muffins.

“More like late night. I haven’t exactly slept yet, but I didn’t want to risk sleeping through the morning.”

You grin and bat your eyelashes. “Aw, you didn’t want to miss our morning munchies?”

Emily lets out a huff. “Please don’t call it that.”

“But that’s what we do.” You take a bite of the muffin, glancing at the iced coffee Emily held onto. “Is that your salted cream latte?”

Emily’s eyes narrow, pulling the drink a bit closer to her. “Maybe. Why?”

Your eyes go wide and your lips pull into a small pout. “Can I have a sip?”

“What? Why? You don’t even like the cream on top! You’ve tried this latte multiple times and each time, you say you don’t like it.”

“What if I change my mind this time?”

Emily laughs. “You won’t.”

“Are you following me?”

Emily rolls her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I live here so I should be asking you that question.” You bump your shoulder into Emily, a smile on your face. “Who told you about my secret getaway?”

Emily laughs. “Secret getaway? It’s the beach.”

“Yeah, but this spot in particular. It’s away from the main boardwalk and it’s hidden.”

Emily grins, leaning into you. “I have my ways.”

“Uh-huh. So you are stalking me.”

“Stalking? Please, you flatter yourself.”

You let out a small laugh, enjoying the warmth from Emily’s body. “I’m surprised you’re not working. How did you get a Saturday night off?”

“Told ‘em I had a hot date.”

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Emily rubs at the inside of her wrist, just below her watch. She tries to look at you but can’t bring herself to, focusing on the empty plate between them.

“What’s up?” You wipe at the table with a napkin, gathering the crumbs into a single spot.

“Well, we caught the guy last night so I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Oh.” You pause and look at Emily. “How soon?”

“Two hours?” Emily winces at the look on your face. “I’m sorry. We’re very… we move around, and fast.”

You can only nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying our… us. I just can’t stay.”

“No, I understand. I mean, I knew that from the start. I just wasn’t expecting you to leave so fast after you caught him. I thought you might get like, a day or two off.”

“As nice as that sounds, that rarely happens. You know what they say.”

“...What?”

Emily sits up straight and clears her throat, her voice lowering. “Crime never sleeps.”

You groan. “Ew, don’t ever say that again, please.”

“Hey, are you up for drinks tonight?”

Emily glances up from her computer screen, finding JJ leaning against her desk.

“Ah, not tonight. I’ve… got plans.” Emily hopes JJ doesn’t push but this is the third time she’s missed out on drinks with the team. “Next time?”

JJ’s eyes narrow, staring at Emily.

“Stop trying to profile me.”

“Only if you tell me why you haven’t been out with us for the past three Friday nights. The first time, fine, we get it. The second time, it’s a little suspicious. But the third time? You are not getting out of it without an explanation. I will tell Garcia on you.”

Emily huffs, leaning back into her chair. “I have plans.” She holds a finger up. “That I cannot cancel or reschedule.”

“Uh-huh. And does it, by any chance, have anything to do with a certain woman from a certain beach town we may have been in recently?” JJ’s smirking now, arms crossed. “And it wouldn’t be because she’s been visiting every weekend since then, would it?”

Emily only gapes at her. “How— who told you that? How do you even know about her?”

JJ shrugs. “I went on a run every morning there that no one ever showed up for. I ran through the whole town eventually and may have seen you at the same cafe around the same time with the same woman.”

“If you know, then why are you asking?”

“I didn’t but you just confirmed it for me.” JJ taps her desk with her knuckles before heading out. “Well, maybe next week you’ll bring her along. Goodnight, Emily!”

Emily only groans, dropping her head into her hands.

You step out onto the sidewalk, waving to the doorman. It was almost 8 and Emily was on her way. Your heart flutters in anticipation and you rock back and forth on your feet as you wait.

The sight of headlights coming down the street catches your attention, and you follow with your eyes as it approaches. You recognize the Jeep and get in, eyes meeting Emily’s.

“Hi,” you breathe out, hand brushing against the one resting the gear shift.

Emily gives you a small kiss on the edge of your lips, letting out a quiet hello before leaning back into her seat. “Ready?”

Your seatbelt clicks into place. “Uh-huh. Where are we going on this exhilarating Friday night?”

“Exhilarating? I was thinking of taking you to my place to crochet.”

“Emily.”

“What? You don’t want to spend quality time with me? Not to mention Sergio is just dying to meet you.” She pulls away from the curb, eyes focused.

“Oh, are you ready to introduce me to your family?” You tease, leaning close enough for her to feel your breath on her cheek. “Are we taking that next step so soon? You haven’t even taken me to bed yet.”

Emily’s hand immediately falls onto your thigh, her grip tight. “Don’t start.” She hesitates, before coming to a stop in a parking lot. “But… what do you think about it?”

You abruptly pull away from her, eyebrows raised. “What do I think about meeting your family? Emily, we haven’t even… it’s only been–”

“No! No, I don’t mean my family. Well, I mean I do but I don’t mean my parents. I meant more like my team.” Emily grabs your hand, pulling it close to her lips. “I haven’t told them anything but they have their suspicions.”

“God, Em, don’t scare me like that.” You let out a shuddered breath, closing your eyes. “Why do you want me to meet them suddenly?”

“Just… it would be nice, I think, if I could spend time with the people I care most altogether?” She glances at you, eyes wide.

“Oh, you’re good.”

You felt a paw lightly pat your face, the fur tickling your nose.

“Sergio, please. Five more minutes,” you groan. You turn over in bed, trying to bury your face in the pillow that still smells like Emily’s shampoo.

You hear a laugh from the other side of the room. “You should know better than that.”

“He’s your son, why isn’t he bothering you instead?”

“Because he knows that I have to get ready for work.” You hear Emily shuffling in her closet. “Hey, have you seen that blue button-up of mine, by chance?”

You pause, looking down at your body wearing that exact button-up. You pull the blanket up higher. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Might be in the dirty laundry pile? I can start it today while you’re at work.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She grunts, putting her shoes on. “Also, what do you think we should have for dinner?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” You sigh, realizing sleep is no longer coming.

Emily chuckles, sitting next to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? It’s supposed to be quick.” She presses a kiss onto your forehead. “And maybe we can…”

You smack her with her pillow. “Let you in my pants one time and now it’s all you think about. Get outta here.”

She laughs, resting her body on top of yours.

“Em! Please, I can’t breathe.” You push at her shoulders, laughing.

“You seem to be breathing just fine.” She relaxes her body even more, letting her full weight rest on you. “And I’ll have you know that you seduced me!”

“That’s not true! You’re the one who wined and dined me, showing off your fancy wine knowledge and your fancy French.”

“Fancy French?” Emily chuckles, rolling her eyes. “It’s just French, babe.”

She pushes herself up, adjusting her shirt before her eyes land on you. “Hey, that’s my shirt!”

“Oops?”

“You’re lucky I think you’re so cute.”

It starts with a small itch on your cheek during dinner that you brushed off. As you lean back into your seat as Emily drives, eyes drooping, you think it might be a stray hair tickling your face. Emily’s talking about possibly going out for drinks tomorrow night with her team but you’ve started to rub at your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” Emily’s brows furrow, watching you unable to keep your hands from your face.

“I’m okay, my face just feels a little funny.” The skin of your face actually feels so tight, especially when you try to smile. “Hey, Em…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Was there, by any chance, Thai eggplant in any of our dishes tonight?”

“I think the curry did. Why?”

You huff out a laugh. “Oh no.”

“Oh no, what? Should I be taking you to the ER?” Her voice is rising in pitch, eyes darting to try and think of the nearest ER. “Baby, you’re allergic? Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh God, do you need me to grab an EpiPen? Do you even have one?”

“Relax, Emily, I’m fine, and no need for an EpiPen. I’ll be okay, it’ll go away on its own. I’ll pop a Claritin and I should be okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re allergic? Are you allergic to anything else?” Emily’s biting onto her lower lip, eyes glancing over to you every few minutes. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

“I’m sure, but thank you for caring. And no, as far as I’m aware, I’m not allergic to anything else. I do try to stay away from fava beans though. Not allergic but it does make me feel nauseous.”

“Fava beans? What the hell are those?”

“It’s usually in like hummus and falafel, but I think you can make them into a dish itself? Not sure, but again, I stay away from it in general.”

“So hummus and falafel are banned from my house, got it.”

“Emily, don’t be ridiculous. You can have those in your house, they’re not going to kill me.” You pat her thigh. “Thank you for your concern though.”

“What if you accidentally eat it?”

“Emily,” you chuckle. “What’s the hummus going to do, open its container, scoop itself onto a spoon, and force its way into my hand?”

You spin yourself around in Emily’s chair, staring at the ceiling and wondering what movie to watch tonight. It’d been a long day for you, your flight being delayed stranding you at the airport for a few hours. By the time your plane landed, it was late, and there weren’t many cabs around. It felt like every part of your trip was a challenge, and you were just glad to finally be near Emily.

You glance at the meeting room she’s in and can only wonder what she’s discussing with Hotch that has her looking so troubled.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here! How was the flight?” Penelope leans against Emily’s desk. “I saw it was delayed.”

“You saw?” You shake your head. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Penelope grins, sending you a wink. “You should know better.”

“The flight was okay, definitely felt longer than usual. Then when I get here, there’s like no cabs at the airport. Which, fine, I get it, it’s late but seriously? And then when I try to get an Uber, the price is like triple the usual rate!” You roll your eyes, leaning back in the chair. “I should’ve just rented a car.”

“Well, at least you made it. Are we seeing you at all this weekend or is Emily hogging you for the whole time?”

“Ah, well, I guess that’s up to Emily. I’m up for a girl’s night this weekend.” You tap at your chin. “There is a cocktail lounge I’ve been wanting to try but I think they’re only accepting reservations.”

“Hm, interesting. I’m not making any promises but I’m gonna try and work some magic and see if I can get us on the list.” Penelope wiggles her eyebrows. “All you have to do is convince your big, bad girlfriend to say yes to sharing you.”

“Not a chance, Garcia.” Emily’s standing behind her, arms crossed.

“Aw, but Emily! We haven’t seen Y/N in so long and you always keep her to yourself every weekend.”

“Yeah, Emily, stop hogging me,” you tease, leaning forward onto her desk.

She throws her hands up. “Fine, we can do a girl's night. Pick a place and time, Pen, but tonight, we’re busy.” Emily tugs at your arm, pulling you to the exit.

“Goodnight, Penelope! Let me know about the cocktail lounge!” You wave, happy to be dragged away.

Once you get into Emily’s car, you can’t help but look at her and grin. “You don’t have to be so jealous, you know.”

She scoffs. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? You’re not secretly dating Penelope or JJ.” She pauses. “Are you?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Emily pinches your cheek. “Don’t be a smartass.”

“You love that about me.” You freeze, heat rushing to your face and the tips of your ears going pink. “Emily, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“I do. Love you, I mean. Granted, I didn’t think this was when I would tell you this. Maybe at a nice dinner or home but… I do.”

“Home?” You stare at her, heart stuttering. “You love me?”

“So much,” Emily breathes out.

You can only smile, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You’re something else, Emily Prentiss, but I love you too.”

“So… what are your thoughts on being neighbors?” You focus on the book in your hands, refusing to look at Emily beside you on the couch.

“Excuse me?” She lays her book down and turns to face you. “Neighbors?”

You hesitate before looking at her. “My contract in Carmel is ending and I’ve been offered an analyst position with the city. Here. I haven’t accepted yet because I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

She frowns, grabbing your hand. “Y/N… if it’s a great opportunity, you should take it regardless of my opinion.”

“I know but I don’t want to make it seem like I’m… being pushy? Or rushing you? It’s one thing to date someone long distance, it’s another to be in the same city.”

“Shouldn’t I be happy that I get to see you more often than just weekends?” She tilts her head. “Not only that, but if you don’t accept this position, doesn’t that mean you won’t have a job?”

“That’s not my point, Em. I just mean that maybe you might feel… suffocated. With me, here. Yes, we love each other but–”

“No buts.” She presses her finger against your lips. “But I’m hurt that you’re planning to be my neighbor.”

“What do you mean? You want me to live on the other side of town or something?” You grab her hand and move it to your lap. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No, I mean, why wouldn’t you just be my roommate?”

You splutter. “Excuse me? You want me to move in?”

“Well, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? If you got a place, we’d just be going back and forth between the two. Not to mention paying an unnecessarily ridiculous price for a place.” Emily begins to list the reasons on her fingers. “We have dinner together every night you’re here, you currently don’t have a car, this house is decently close to the city office, and I have the room for you. Obviously.” She leans back against the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh, and closes her eyes. “Any other concerns?”

You can only gape at her, at a loss for words.

“Now the real question is this: how much are they offering you to take the job with the city?” She opens her eyes to look at you. “Baby?”

You shake your head. “Their initial offer is for $175,000.”

“Christ, for maps?!”

“Hey! You use maps at your job all the time so you’re welcome. And I said it’s their initial offer. I’d technically be considered a senior analyst, so it’s closer to $200,000.”

Emily’s eyes roll back. “God, keep talking dirty to me.”

“Em!” You tug at her ear gently. “You’re so annoying.”

You can barely hear the knock over the music you have playing, but you’ve been expecting it. Swinging the door open, you find JJ and Henry standing with bags over their shoulders.

“Ah, my royal guests have arrived for the night.” You step aside to let them in, locking the door behind them. “Are we hungry yet?”

JJ groans. “Please tell me you made what I think you made.”

You turn the volume down on the sound system low enough to not have to yell. “That depends. What are you hoping I made?”

Henry wraps himself around your legs. “Pasta chicken, please.”

You gasp. “How did you know I made pesto chicken? Do you have superpowers?” You look up at JJ. “You can put your stuff in the guest room if you’d like. Or we can set up in the living room?”

“No, the guest room is great. I’ll be right back.” She grabs Henry’s bag from the floor and heads down the hallway.

“Alright, my dude, let’s check on the food. And I made brownies for dessert.” You guide Henry toward the kitchen, stomach grumbling. “Emily also better get her butt here sooner than later, or else.”

“Or else what?”

You jump, hand flying to your chest. “JJ, please, not everyone is an FBI agent!”

She lets out a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Habit, I guess. Did you need any help?”

You wave her off. “Nah, I got it. I have drinks in the fridge if you want some. There’s beer, wine, soda, and j-u-i-c-e.”

“Sounds good. Want me to grab you anything?” JJ tugs the fridge open, pursing her lips. “How’s the wine?”

“Don’t know, it’s Emily’s.” You let out a small laugh. “Feel free to open it.”

She shakes her head, pulling the bottle of wine out and a juice for Henry. “Her loss, I guess.”

“Whose loss?”

You both jump this time. “Christ, Emily!” You rub your temples. “I’m not going to survive like this. I feel like my heart’s restarted so many times since moving in.”

“Well, maybe if you listened to me about the music volume, you wouldn’t be so jumpy.” She tugs you close. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about music.”

“You have it on so you don’t feel lonely when you’re home alone,” Emily and JJ both recite.

“Wow.” You scoff. “I don’t say it that often!”

JJ leans down to hand Henry his juice, wiping the condensation on her pants. “You don’t have to. It’s always on when we come over.”

“And it’s always on when I come home from work.”

“Well, it’s better than just sitting here in silence by myself.”

Emily smiles, heading to the fridge. “I know you don’t like when it’s too quiet. It’s okay.”

Emily’s chin drops down to her chest and lets out a heavy sigh. She was late, much later than she told you. She rubs at the ridges of her house key feeling like a stone sat in her stomach. Things have been somewhat tense the past few weeks and she knows she hasn’t made it better. This is the fifth Friday night she’s missed, and it doesn’t help that it was your anniversary tomorrow.

She’d promised you she’d be home early but the team caught a case right after lunch. She tried to keep you updated throughout the day but by the time it hit midnight, you stopped replying. Emily pushes her way in, instantly rearming the alarm. Setting her bags down on the small side table, she heads further in, ears straining to hear for any movement.

She notes the lack of music and wonders how long it’s been off. By the time she makes it to the bedroom, she’s shed her shoes and blazer. Emily sighs once more when she sees you asleep in bed, Sergio curled onto the pillow beside you.

She makes her way to the closet, shuffling through to grab some pajamas. She can shower tomorrow morning, and maybe she can make it up to you and have you join her.

“When did you get in?”

Emily’s heart jumps as she turns to look at the bed. You’re still curled beneath the blankets but your eyes are staring straight at her.

“I’m just getting in,” she breathes out. Emily pulls her button-up and bra off, exchanging them for a large t-shirt. “Did I wake you?”

“No, Sergio did.” You glance over to the cat that’s now made himself comfortable halfway onto your forehead. “Everything at work okay?”

“Yeah, just got unlucky. We caught a case right after lunch.” She tugs her slacks off and settles into bed beside you. “Didn’t make much progress either, but the amount of bodies we kept finding were… a lot.”

You let out a quiet hum. “Make a profile yet?”

Emily shakes her head, rolling over to face you. “No, not yet. We’re missing something but we just haven’t found it yet.” She stares at you, hesitating just a bit. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay, Em, it’s work.”

“It’s not though. This isn’t the first one I’ve missed, and I’m sorry. I know it might feel like I’m not trying but I promise that I am.” She reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you or anything like that.”

“Emily, I mean it. I know how your job works. I’m not mad at you. Am I a little sad and disappointed? Anyone would be, but I’m not going to hold something like this over you. That’s like if you held a grudge against me every time I lose track of time when I’m working.” You tuck your face into her neck, breathing her in. “Just glad you’re okay.”

She squeezes you tight, letting her body relax. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah? What’d you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet but I’ll figure it out. Maybe…” Emily bites her lip, thinking. “Maybe after the case though?”

“Of course, babe. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You try to hold in your yawn, but Emily can feel it against her skin.

“Go to bed. I’ll wake you up before I leave tomorrow.”

“Mm, tell me about your case. Not too many details though.”

Emily smiles, letting her eyes close. “You don’t wanna hear about what they did to the bodies and where we found them?”

You shudder. “God, no. Just wanna hear your voice.”

“Emily, hey. I’m glad you answered.” You stuff as many shirts as you can into the small luggage, holding your cell phone between your ear and shoulder. “Listen, something’s come up and I’m on my way to the airport.”

Emily ducks into an empty conference room, leaning against the door. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”

“No, that’s not necessary. My mom called me and– it’s nothing. Not anything bad but I just have to help her sort some stuff out.” You zipped the luggage up, doing a quick scan to make sure the windows were shut and Sergio’s water bowl was filled.

“You sure I can’t do anything?” Emily turns to look out the window, unaware that she’s started to bite the nail of her thumb. “We don’t have any pressing cases right now, I can meet you–”

“It’s okay, I promise. Stay.” You set the alarm and lock the door behind you. “Just… it’s my brother. He’s always had a tough time once he finished high school. He’s been doing good, but my mom is worried. I just need to see what’s happening and have it sorted. I should be back in a few days.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m sorry, Em, my mom’s calling. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

Emily sighs when the call disconnects, shoulders slumping. It’s been a good few weeks since your anniversary and things have been getting better, but it just feels like something’s been off. She makes her way back to her desk and opens a new window on her computer.

This is wrong. You shouldn’t be looking him up. If she wanted you to know about him, she’d have told you by now. It can’t be that bad.

Emily groans, closing the window.

“What’s wrong, my dark fairy?” Penelope perches herself on the edge of Emily’s desk. “Trouble in paradise? Don’t tell me Y/N’s still mad at you. Haven’t you been taking any of my advice? Groveling, presents, and ravishing her every chance you get?”

“Penelope, please, not so loud.” Emily shakes her head. “It’s not that. She said she had to fly home to handle some stuff that’s come up and she mentioned her brother. I don’t really know much about him and I was gonna…” Emily wiggles her fingers and points to the computer. “But I can’t bring myself to do it. That’s– I shouldn’t do that, right? It’s wrong?”

“Oh-ho-ho. The good ol’ dilemma of wanting to find out what’s going on vs. not betraying someone’s trust.” Penelope leans in, lowering her voice. “As a hacker, I say do it. As a friend…”

“As a friend, don’t?”

Penelope darts her eyes to the computer. “I’d still do it, especially if I think it’s for someone’s safety or well-being!”

“Pen!” Emily drops her face into her hands. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Want me to?”

Emily thinks about it for a few minutes, worrying what your reaction might be. “Just… If you do it and you don’t find anything pressing, don’t tell me that you did it. But if it’s something bad, then tell me. I need to know if I need to be there too.”

“You got it, goth queen.”

“Happy birthday, Emily!” You lift Sergio from the floor and press his face against her cheek. “Welcome home. I hope you’re ready to celebrate.”

Emily smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Sergio’s head. “If that means relaxing on the couch with my two favorites, then I’m so ready.”

“Not just that but I also have some extra surprises in store for you.” You set Sergio into her arms and give her a quick peck. “I just need to grab them. You go get comfy and I’ll meet you in the living room?”

“It’s a date.” Emily watches you head to her office, shaking her head in disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s where she’s kept them hidden and I didn’t even think to look in there, Serg.”

Emily places Sergio onto her bed as she goes to change into pajamas. She glances at the box at the top of her closet, wondering if today would be the day.

“Em? You almost done?”

She lets out a breath, shaking her head. Not today. “Yeah, I’m just about finished. Be there in a sec.”

Lowering herself down to her knees beside the bed, she brings her face close to the cat and lowers her voice. “Listen here, buddy. I’m going to need you to put in some work and be extra cute and irresistible. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” He only stares and blinks at her.

“Oh my god, I’m losing it,” Emily mumbles, scooping Sergio back into her arms to head back to the living room. Her eyes widen when she sees the gifts on the small table. “Uh, Y/N? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who paid for a month-long trip for my birthday and didn’t let me chip in. We also flew first class, Em, first class.”

She scoffs, plopping down onto the couch. “That trust fund isn’t gonna use itself, so what better way than to spend it on you?”

You push her shoulder, settling in beside her. “I could say the same for myself, minus the trust fund. Do you wanna open gifts first or later?”

“Mm, later. I just wanna lay here with you.”

“Any movie suggestions?”

“You pick.” She buries her face into your neck, closing her eyes. “It’s been a long day so nothing too heavy or intense, please.”

“Taxi?”

“Again?”

“You said I could pick!” You poke at her side, scrolling through movies. “Do you wanna do a TV show instead?”

Emily only mumbles.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for that detailed and clear answer. That narrows down my search immensely. I have a top 3 for selection.”

“Stop being a smartass.”

You laugh, selecting Taxi anyway. The movie starts and as you both sit there, you can feel Emily’s body going lax. “Happy birthday, Emily,” you whisper.

“No, Emily, absolutely not. You can’t drive like this!” You argue, holding her car keys close to your chest. “Hotch said you can take the rest of the week off, so why don’t you?”

Emily only gives you a look.

“Uhg, I know. Can’t you just, I don’t know, get a ride from someone? I can call JJ and she can swing by?”

“I’m already up later than usual, Y/N. It’s 10. The day’s already started for the team a long time ago.”

You bite your lip, glancing at your computer. You don’t have any pressing deadlines coming up so you could technically take an early day. The real dilemma is getting Emily to agree.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” You straighten your shoulders and clear your throat. “And if you don’t agree, you’re going to have to think of another way to get to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“You let me drive you to work. I can take you now and pick you up later.”

Silence.

You can feel the heat spreading on your cheeks as you wait for Emily to say something, anything. “Em?”

“Nobody drives my Jeep but me.”

“Emily Prentiss, you literally got shot yesterday. If you think for one second I’m going to let you drive with an injury, you are out of your mind.”

She grits her teeth. “Y/N…”

“Emily.” You stare at her head-on. “If you love me as much as you say you do, you’ll let me do this for you.”

She dips her head, closing her eyes. “Fine, you can drive my Jeep but if you get a scratch on her, I’m putting my cold feet on you for a month!” Emily turns around with a huff, going to grab her work bag.

You can’t help but admire the new ring that sits on your finger as you sit at your computer. It’s been two hours since you clocked in but you can’t concentrate. The butterflies in your stomach haven’t gone away since you woke up and Emily smiled at you. Biting your lip, you try and focus on the map in front of you.

Your phone buzzes on the desk and you sigh.

Emily ❣️(9:53 AM): Get to work.

You startle, looking around the office and debating on whether you should turn the music down or not. There’s no way she’d have cameras set up without telling you, would she?

You (9:55 AM): I don’t know what you mean 🙂 Emily ❣️ (9:59 AM): I know you. Now get to work. We can celebrate again when I get home 😜

You can feel the tips of your ears go pink, locking your phone and setting it face down on the desk. Instead of getting back to work, you open a new browsing window instead and immediately search for rings. You’ve yet to find one that would fit Emily, and it’s starting to feel like you’re going to have to make a custom piece.

Your phone buzzes against the desk, causing you to jump. There’s no way you were getting anything done today.

When you swing the door open to a red-eyed JJ, your stomach drops. The way she’s looking at you is something you’ve never wanted to experience.

“JJ… don’t.” You shake your head, the ring on your finger feeling so, so heavy.

She takes in a deep breath, her voice shaky. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. She– they said she didn’t make it off the table.”

The only thing you can hear is the music you’ve been playing all day and the sound of your breathing. JJ is speaking to you, hands moving, but it’s like no words are coming out. You can’t process anything she’s saying and you can only stare into her eyes.

JJ would never lie to you and she would never put you through this if she knew there wasn’t a possibility of Emily surviving. She’s guiding you back inside, her face tight.

“Y/N?”

You look at her, finally taking her in. The tip of her nose was pink, her ponytail was a mess, and her shirt was rumpled.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m–” You’re at a loss for words, uncertain.

“I asked if you wanted to stay with me.” JJ grabs onto your hands, her eyes roaming your face. “You don’t have to be alone tonight, or any night. I’m sure Henry would love to have you and Sergio over.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to take care of one more person.”

“Y/N, it’s okay, really.” JJ glances around, wincing. “I think it would be best. At least for one night? And then we can go from there, okay? If not for you, then for me.”

You sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. You stay right here. I’ll grab you a few things and then we can go, okay?”

As JJ makes her way into the bedroom, her eyes water. This is not how she wanted to find out the two of you got engaged over the weekend. Taking a deep breath, JJ is quick to grab a change of clothes and Sergio. She finds you still sitting on the couch, the music turned off.

“Come on, let’s head out.” She squeezes your shoulder before handing you Sergio.

You slowly stand, looking down at the black cat, realizing that he won’t understand why Emily will no longer be coming around. You take in a breath and blink back the tears as you move to turn the alarm on. “Are you sure, JJ? I can stay, really. I’m sure you’d like to be alone too–”

“I want you to come, Y/N. Please. I’d like to keep you close tonight.” JJ frowns, the indecision clear on her face. “I can’t tell you everything yet, but once things are settled, I promise I will. I just need to make sure you’re safe.”

The drive to JJ’s is a blur. It felt like it went by in the blink of an eye but at the same time, it felt like hours. As you both make your way to the front door, it feels like you’ve been awake for hours. Wasn’t it just this morning that you were making plans with Emily for Friday? You have a dentist appointment tomorrow, your mom wanted you to call her back, and there’s a deadline coming up–

Your head throbs.

JJ pushes the door open, the lights off and the house is silent. “Well, looks like everyone’s asleep. Here.” She guides you to the guest room you frequented every girl’s night, not bothering to turn the light on.

As you sit, you look at her once more. “JJ…”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll figure things out, okay? And if you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

All you can do is nod as you lay down, tugging the blanket over you. “This is real, isn’t it, JJ?”

She pauses at the doorway. “Yeah, Y/N, it’s real.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “And she’s not coming back.”

“No,” she whispers.

You can feel the adrenaline and nerves finally hit, and somehow your eyes close.

“I don’t know how that makes me feel! Isn’t that why I’m here?” You raise your eyes to Dr. Crane, the psychologist that JJ has been forcing you to go to. “I told you from the start that I didn’t think that this would help.”

Dr. Crane leans forward, setting her notebook aside. “Y/N, in the past two months, do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you?”

You throw your hands up, defeated. “Sure, why not?”

“You insist that being here wouldn’t help you but you come to every appointment. That’s three times a week, by the way. You start the session calmly, and as the questions progress, so does your anger.” She taps her desk with her pen. “Not only that, but you’ve been unable to say Emily’s name once in any session, you refuse to answer questions you don’t like the answer to, and you frequently try to change the subject when I ask about your engagement.”

You wince, glancing at the ring on your finger. “Not much to talk about. It didn’t last very long.”

Oh, that one hurt.

“Look, people grieve differently, right? This is how I’m doing it.”

“And do you think that’s healthy? Being unable to say a name? Wearing a ring that you seem to resent whenever you talk about it?” You can feel yourself clenching your jaw as you look at your hands. “Are we finished for today?” You don’t wait for an answer, but stand and grab your things.

“Y/N, a loss is something so many people experience but very little know how to process. If you continue this way, how long do you think you’ll last before you’re forced to confront it?”

You say nothing as you storm out of the office, the frustration building. JJ stands from the waiting room, a frown on her face as she sees your haste to leave. She looks back toward the office before following you with a sigh.

“Y/N, you said you’d try–”

“This is me trying, JJ! I’m just– I’m not ready.” You stand on the sidewalk, staring at her. “I’m not ready to accept she’s gone. Every day I wake up, thinking that I had a bad dream. I look down at my finger and I see this ring and I wonder how much longer it’ll be until I can take it off without feeling like I’m trying to forget her.”

JJ shakes her head, hand reaching for you. “We can find you another psychologist if you want. If you think Dr. Crane isn’t helping, then we can–”

You shake your head, taking a few steps back. “No, I know. I just– I need to be alone for a little while, okay? You’ve done a lot for me these past few weeks, JJ, and I appreciate that but I just need to think.”

“Let me drop you off, then. Where are you going?”

“No, it’s fine. I can walk. Please, JJ. Just let me be alone for a little while. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll call you?” You take a few more steps back before turning away.

“Y/N! You call me if you need a ride, okay?”

You throw your hand up in acknowledgment as you briskly walk away from JJ, your head pounding.

They’re everywhere. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, it’s like they follow you all day long. You know it’s not true, but that’s what it feels like. Just how many people actually drive Jeeps? Maybe you’ll look at some data later.

It’s like the car itself was following you, trying to force you to acknowledge it. None of them are her’s though. That one’s sitting in the parking garage, untouched. Over the past few months, you’ve thought about selling it but can’t bring yourself to actually do it. It’s not like you drive it, but it’s just one more thing to hold onto.

You tap at your keyboard, the posting halfway finished. This is the fourth time you’ve tried to sell this Jeep but every time, something stops you. The first time, the wifi disconnected. The second time, Sergio jumped onto the desk and stepped onto the keyboard which caused the window to close. The third time, you kept getting interrupted by phone calls from work so you just gave up. But now? Now you don’t think you should sell it at all.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You buckle your seatbelt before looking at Emily.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She pulls away from the curb, the engine rumbling as she made her way to the highway.

“Why’d you get a Jeep?”

Emily grins. “What’s wrong with my Jeep?”

“Nothing! Just… it’s not what I would expect from someone who works for the FBI. I feel like you’d have something more, I don’t know, practical? Discrete?”

“How much more discrete could this be? It’s all black, even the rims!”

“Yeah, but I imagined you having like an SUV or something. All blacked out, reinforced, or bullet-proof, you know? Not a Jeep.”

“How do you know it’s not reinforced or bullet-proof?” Emily speeds up now that she’s on the highway. “Besides, if I ever had to, I could go off-road in this baby. Wanna see?” She jerks the steering wheel slightly, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Emily, don’t you dare! If we’re late to our reservation again–”

“Baby, on our Friday night? I would never.”

You sigh, turning your computer off. You can try again tomorrow.

“Do you think I should do it, JJ?” You gaze out of her car window, recognizing her neighborhood. “Or is it too soon?”

JJ takes in a deep breath. “I– I think you should do it if you think you’re ready. And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

“I should try though, shouldn’t I?” You begin to twist the ring on your finger, hesitant. “It hasn’t been that long but it feels like it’s been years. I feel like I’ve been living without her for so long now, but…”

“Y/N, if you want to try, you can. And if you change your mind, you can always cancel or leave. Whoever it is that you’re thinking of is hopefully a good person and can understand where you’re coming from.” JJ pulls into her driveway and turns her car off. “Look, it can be a group outing if you want. No expectations.”

You take in a deep breath, chin dropping to your chest. “My coworker. She’s been… very persistent. She knows but I can’t tell if she’s genuine or if she’s just trying to–”

“Get into your pants?”

You huff. “Yeah.”

JJ nods, getting out of the car. You follow her up through the front door, the sound of the TV on and the washing machine running.

“Then we do a group outing. You can see for yourself and we can tell you if anything feels off, okay? Or if you want, we can ask Penelope to do a quick check on her beforehand.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

JJ (7:51 PM): You sure you don’t want one of us to pick you up instead? You (7:53 PM): It’s a little too late to be asking me, JJ. She’s supposed to be here at 8. JJ (7:54 PM): And if she’s as understanding as she says she is, she wouldn’t mind.

You sigh, shaking your head. The windows light up from a car’s headlights and you make your way to the door.

As you lock the door behind you, your eyes find your coworker, Lucy, standing at the passenger door. As you approach, she opens the door.

“Hi.”

“Hello. You look beautiful.” She tilts her head. “Shall we?”

“Thank you. You, too.” You slide into her car and it feels all wrong. The height of the car, the way you fit in the seat, the windows, even the smell. You shake your head.

I have to try. I just want a good night out, whether that’s with Lucy or with my friends.

Letting out a breath, you try to relax in your seat as Lucy maneuvers her way through the city. Your eyes are playing tricks on you because you keep thinking that you see Jeeps in every parking lot you pass. You’re grateful when you arrive at the sports bar.

Once you’re settled in and made introductions, you find yourself sandwiched between Lucy and JJ in the booth. Thankfully JJ is on the inside, and you instinctively sit closer to her. It’s an easy night thanks to the group and you’re able to avoid any awkward conversations with Lucy because of them.

JJ leans in close, lowering her voice. “Doing okay?”

You nod, patting her thigh. “Yes, thank you.”

Lucy stands from the booth, shooting you a smile. “Would you like a refill?”

You didn’t even realize you had finished your drink. “Sure, yes, that’d be great. A whiskey sour, please?”

“You got it.” She makes her way to the bar, disappearing.

“Thoughts?” You murmur, fingers tracing the rim of your glass.

Penelope rests her chin in her palm. “She’s not bad, my sweet, but there’s no sparks if that’s what you’re asking. Something feels a little off too, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“She’s nice, Y/N, just…” JJ pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. “It just doesn’t feel right yet.”

It’s 2AM and Lucy insisted on walking you up to your door. She’d gotten tickets for a concert and you figured you could try being with just her without a group.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You rub the house key in your hand, trying to maintain a distance. Although her company is nice, you don’t think you could handle anything physical with her.

“Of course.” She pauses, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I know it’s late but–”

“Actually, Lucy–”

“Ah.” She nods her head, taking a small step back. “Sorry, too forward? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I know, so cliche, but it’s true. I thought I was ready to try again but I don’t think I am.” You try to smile, but it falls. “Everything feels so wrong right now. Not just you but just… every part of my life. I thought that if I put myself out there, it might be what I needed to get things going but, as you can see, it’s not working.”

“I figured.” Lucy pats your shoulder, giving you a small smile. “I didn’t think you’d say yes in the first place, but you did, so I think I ignored all the signs too. I’m really sorry, Y/N. If you ever want to talk, you can text or call me anytime, okay?”

“Okay. And I’m really sorry, Lucy.”

“Don’t apologize. I knew what I was doing, too. I’ll see you later.”

You turn away and let yourself in, leaning against the door. Your chest feels so heavy and you wonder how long you’ll continue to feel this way. All you want is for things to go back to the way they were.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #also this is my first time posting on tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird #still learning tbh #lol also not me writing this after stopping for like 4 years #:')#mine

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modelbus · 3 months

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Could I request a Singer!Reader x Tommyinnit fic with the song ‘So American’ by Olivia Rodrigo? I think it would be cute if tommy bragged about reader on stream and she wrote songs about him <3

I assume you wanted a song fic, and if not… too late… whoops…

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader

So American

Drivin’ on the right-side road He says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes

Tommy’s eyes are on the window, looking vaguely surprised every time that the Uber takes a turn and reaffirms that, yes, he is meant to be driving on the right side of the road. It was something he jokingly called “barbaric” when he first visited your parents with you, but now he simply gives you a disgusted look to confirm that his beliefs on it hasn't changed.

His arm is over your shoulders, playing with a loose thread on your sweater. Technically, it’s his sweater, but you claimed it as your own this morning. You claim most of his clothes as your own, actually. You liked wearing his baggy sweaters, he liked seeing you in them. Your fans go wild for it.

A fair trade, in your opinion.

His clothes were softer than yours for some reason, and they smelled like him. Plus, he had about a gazillion sweaters. He could definitely afford to spare some for you.

“The fuck is that?” Tommy asks, squinting at someone in a chicken costume dancing on the roadside with a sign. “Are they a fucking chicken?”

“It’s advertising.” You explain, laughing at the look on his face.

“Take a photo, take a photo.” He directs you, barely waiting for you to get your phone out before he snatches it to take a photo while the Uber drives by. Then he flips the camera to take a selfie of you two, making a horrified look for the photo. You mimic his expression. “There, send it later, I’ll post it.”

“Got it.” You take your phone back, zooming in on the photo of you two to see how you look in it. Your hair’s a little messy, but that's to be expected. It’s a long Uber ride, after all.

“You look pretty as always, stop inspecting the photo.” Tommy grins at you, yawning after.

“Yeah yeah.” Clicking your phone off, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Tom.”

“Damn right, whatever I say.”

And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much

“This mod adds alligators to Minecraft.” Tommy says, showing you it.

He’s trying to find a collection of mods for a new modded Minecraft video, but he’s run through most of the good working ones. And he wasn’t receptive to downloading a virus for a video on the bad mods.

“What do you call an alligator in a vest?” You ask, looking back down at your phone. “An investigator.”

He stares at you. After a moment of silence, he snorts. “That was so shit. Never make a joke like that ever again.”

“You still laughed.”

“But it wasn’t funny.” He stresses. “It was a pity laugh. Your joke was pitiful.”

“So you say, but you laugh every fucking time.” You smile brightly at him: he can’t help but smile back.

“There aren’t even any fuckin’ alligators in England, man. You’re so American!” Tommy nudges you with his elbow, going back to scrolling through mods.

So American. A common insult, but he has a way of making it seem endearing.

“And you’re so British.”

I'd go anywhere he goes And he says I'm so American

Tour life is exhausting.

Traveling from place to place, staying in hotels that range from absolute shit to five stars, you start to wonder why on Earth you’re doing this. But, for all your complaints, you know Tommy is even more exhausted. After all, he’s the one performing damn near every day. And although he loves it, you know it’s draining.

So there you are. Waiting in the wings after every show, giving him a hug when he runs off stage. Enduring the same creaky hotel beds as he is, although he uses your body as a pillow while you use the hotel pillows.

Despite it all, it’s incredible watching him shine. He’s in his element, sharing comedy and humor with the world. And every single show, he always seems awed at how many people show up.

You’re glad you get to be there to see him flourish and to support him through it. Even if you get stuck with the odd-job of trying to fit Freddy into a dog costume a few too many times for your liking. Even if Tommy drags you out onto the stage for bows despite your lack of being in the actual show and your protests.

Simply put, you’re happy to be wherever Tommy is. He inspires your songs, pages of your notebook filled with the mere idea of his stage presence.

Your fans are probably tired of it by now. You’re not.

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me When he's with me

“Turn the light off.” Tommy groans, face in a pillow and arm thrown over your stomach.

You glance at the light above the bed, the switch within arms reach. The hotel room is otherwise dark, matching the time of how late it is. And yet you can’t go to bed. With Tom next to you, your mind is racing, inspiration racing through your thoughts like lightning in your veins.

“I’m almost done.” You promise him, knowing you’re not. The notebook full of song lyrics and ideas is crammed full, the page you’re working on is half empty. It’ll be filled by morning.

“Bullshit.” He complains, blindly grabbing for the notebook and pen. He whacks you in the arm, making you shove him, and he finally gets his hands on your prized notebook. “Fucking thing.”

Yelping when he drops it off his side of the bed, you try to lean over him to grab it back. Instead, he acts like an octopus, throwing all his limbs around you like you’re a damn stuffed animal.

“Tom—“

“Light. Off.” He demands.

“I need my notebook—“

“Light.” He repeats slowly. “You have a recording tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t mean I need sleep.” You grumble, but reach out and flip the light off. The hotel room plunges into darkness, and Tommy makes an agreeable noise.

Within what seems like mere seconds, he’s out as easily as you had turned off the light. Exhausted from his stream earlier, no doubt. By all means, you should be exhausted too. Yet the warm body next to yours keeps you wide awake.

If you blink, or close your eyes, he might not be there in the morning. The best damn thing to ever happen to you, a British guy. You won’t lose him, or everything good he’s brought to you.

Laying your head on his arm, you stare blankly at the ceiling. Half-formed lyrics with no background music swirl around in your brain, pushing insistently at your cerebral cortex in a desperate bid to escape from being thoughts and becoming reality.

Tommy snores loudly, knocking you directly out of your thoughts. Laughing, you nudge him with your foot. He rolls, suffocating you with the way he ends up half atop you.

You’re more than happy to let him.

But ain't it love? I think I'm in love

Two steps forward, five back. Turn, flip your hair gracefully.

The metronome ticks in time with your moves, keeping count for you so you stay on time. Although you preferred the singing part of your job, you tough it out with your choreographer for dances. Besides, seeing it all come together is immensely satisfying.

“Run it through one more time girls!” Your choreographer, Elain, shouts with a clap of her hands. You scramble back to your spot, flyaway hairs already sticking to the back of your neck. Who needs a workout when you have dance?

By the time you’re finished with the last run through and take a break to chug some water, you’re dripping sweat. Attractive? No. But you worked damn hard, and it’s proof of that. All of your other dancers are sweating too, chatting between swigs of water.

You grab your phone, swiping it open to check your messages. Your manager was meant to email you about a certain venue sometime today, and you didn’t want to miss it.

But the second you open your phone, it vibrates with a call. A photo of you and Tom pops up, his name broadcasting across the screen. You smile automatically, knowing damn well he has your schedule memorized to call you during breaks.

“I thought you were streaming?” You ask, accepting it and raising it to your ear. One of your dancer wiggles her eyebrows at you, knowing exactly who it is.

“If only my man was that good to me.” Another girl jokes, laughing.

“I thought you were dancing.” Tommy snarks back on the phone. “Slacking, huh?”

“Oh, fuck off. I’d like to see you dance. Last time you broke a vase.” You lean against the wall.

“It was in a stupid place and it was fucking ugly.”

It was on a table, and it was flower-patterned.

“It was fine, Tom. You just can’t dance. Wait— I take that back. You ‘club girl’ dance.”

He gasps commercially, then starts shouting into the phone. “You bitch! I do not! I am a sexy sexy man while dancing!”

Your jerk your phone away from your ear, laughing despite the fact he probably just burst your eardrums.

“Break’s over!” Elain shouts, eyeballing you in particular. You nod at her, bringing your phone back to your ear. Luckily, Tommy’s stopped shouting.

“—Jack goddamn manifold is coming over for the stream, so I have to hide all your shit because I don’t trust him with it—“ Tommy is saying, rambling about a topic. You wish you could skip choreo to listen to him for ages, FaceTime him and watch while he talks. God, you miss him. You really should plan a visit to England again soon.

“Tom.” You cut him off. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get back to dancing.”

“Is it already—? Oh, yeah.” He sighs. “Fine, I guess I can let you leave my amazing presence. Call me after, or else.”

“Promise.” You assure him. “Love you.”

“Love you!” He echoes back enthusiastically.

You end the call, frowning down at your phone for a second. Definitely need to plan a new trip.

"Girl, stop frowning!" A dancer calls out to you, and you laugh, dropping your phone.

"Yeah yeah, I know."

You're lucky to be in love.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #tommy mcyt #tommy x reader #tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit imagine #tom simons

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basu-shokikita · 7 months

Text

Dethentines 2024 Day 7

Will you be my Valentine?

Picture me arriving to the finish line wheezing and dying, 'cause that's me right now. I don't know why I thought that finishing the entries on the very same day of posting was a good idea but that's what ended up happening. Never again, hopefully.

Either way, here's my last entry for Dethentines, aka the one that matters the most because it's for Valentine's Day so I made an extra effort and you get a whooping +2k words for today. It's Skwistok, obviously, but the rest of Dethklok get a pretty decent amount of participation because I wanted to go out with a bang. Or try to.

Also, I'm linking to this song for no reason.

Thank you so much for organizing Dethentines this year! I had lots of fun and I'm happy to have managed to participate in all days ✨ See you around~

“And then we does the things like-” Skwisgaar made a high pitched noise. “Like-” He made an explosion sound. “You gets?”

“Right, like-” Nathan made a deep growling noise. “And then-” A boing-like noise followed. “And then some more…”

“Ja!” Skwisgaar nodded enthusiastically. It was really easy to talk about music with Nathan, it’s like they read each other’s minds somehow. “We has to…”

Suddenly, Toki walked into the living room. He stopped right when he saw the two of them. Skwisgaar raised a hand to wave at him, a reluctant smile on his face. However, Toki only frowned in response and left.

“Uh-oh.” Nathan watched Toki’s silhouette slowly get smaller. “What did you do?”

“Eugh…” Skwisgaar let his arm drop on the couch. “He ams mads abouts Vals and Tines days.”

“Valentine’s Day?” Nathan repeated in confusion.

“Ja, he askeds if I wanteds to spends wif hims. Goes ons a dates togethors…dats stuff…”

Nathan waited a moment and, when Skwisgaar didn’t continue, he asked. “And what did you say?”

Skwisgaar winced a little. “I says it was fuckings stupids and jackoffs things whats we donts needs.”

“Woah!” Nathan sat back in shock. “Woah, Skwisgaar!”

“Whats? We ams alreadies togethers sorts of, okeys?” Skwisgaar shrugged. “And Valentines ams dildos” He mumbled. “ I don’ts gets it.”

“Yeah, but Toki likes that shit, remember? He’s, uh…” Nathan struggled to find a word that wouldn’t be offensive. “...Different.”

“Pfft.” Skwisgaar snorted. “Differents ams rights.”

“Besides…” Nathan’s eyes wandered to the living room. “I don’t think it’s that weird to want to do all romantic shit when you’re in love. Love might not be cool at all, but it is pretty brutal.”

Skwisgaar pouted, unable to refute Nathan on that. Discovering his feelings for Toki had been a pretty brutal experience. “I guess you ams rights.”

“You gotta apologize to him, dude.”

“Eugh.” Skwisgaar looked up to the ceiling, unable to find reasons against.

–

They were having lunch and Toki was too busy finishing up his mountain of spaghetti to notice Skwisgaar had been staring at him for the past 5 minutes. It was late and there was nobody else in the kitchen but them. Well, besides the Klokateers.

Skwisgaar decided to make an attempt. “Toki?” He called him hesitantly.

Toki kept eating as if nothing had happened, slurping loudly and spreading cheese on the pasta like his life depended on it. Frankly, Skwisgaar wasn’t sure Toki had heard him or not.

“Toki?” He called him a second time.

Still nothing, Toki was gulping from his glass of water. “Mores, please!” He said, after slamming the glass on the table.

“Sire!” One Klokateer immediately appeared with a pitcher of water and filled Toki’s glass to the brim.

“Thank yous.” Toki said before he resumed eating.

“Tok-” Skwisgaar decided to cut the bullshit and sat on the seat next to Toki. There was a subtle acknowledgement, as Toki glanced to his side before returning his attention to his food. “Toki, listens.” Skwisgaar said, gently placing his hand on Toki’s arm.

Toki kept eating, completely unbothered.

Truth to be told, Skwisgaar wasn’t used to being this ignored, especially not by Toki, so he felt the discouragement in his gut. He cleared his throat. “Ams sorries about de other deis, okeis? I didn’ts…realize how imporkstants it ams was to yous, soes…”

“Dat was goods.” Toki said and Skwisgaar raised his eyes with expectation, but Toki was staring at his now empty dish and rubbing his belly.

He sighed. “Tokis, please, we can does what you wants. I won’ts complains, justs-”

Abruptly, Toki stood up and walked away without looking back. Skwisgaar buried his face in his hands in frustration.

He really fucked things up this time.

“Ye gotta mehk it up to him, dood.” Pickles suddenly spoke behind him and Skwisgaar almost did a somersault from shock.

“Eugh! Pickle!” He glanced at him, horrified. “Whens dids you get heres?”

Pickles grimaced like he was offended. “Dood, I’ve been here de whole time.”

“Huh…” Skwisgaar could not remember for the life of him seeing him here but , oh well. “Waits, what does you means makes it ups to him?” He squinted. “Whats does you knows?”

Pickles snorted, gesturing dismissively with one hand. “Nethan already told me ‘bout it. You broke Toki’s heart, didn’t ye?”

“Wells…” Skwisgaar winced. “I wouldn’ts…puts it like dats…”

“An apology just wahn’t do.” Pickles leaned into Skwisgaar’s ear. “Ye gotta surprise him yourself.”

“What?” Skwisgaar turned to him in horror. “You means…?”

Smirking, Pickles nodded slowly at him.

–

Skwisgaar looked at the door with preemptive regret. He was one second away from leaving and forgetting the whole thing. This was his dignity on the line now, nothing to joke about.

Toki’s face flashed in his mind and Skwisgaar closed his eyes in defeat. His breath hitched and his heart raced as he knocked on the door thrice.

It only took a few seconds for it to open, and behind it, a confused Murderface appeared. “Schkwisgaar? What do you want?”

“Is never thots I woulds says dis, Moidaface.” Skwisgaar was already short of breath. “But I needs yous helps.”

Murderface crossed his arms with a scowl. “Thisch better not be a prank.”

“I don’t has time for pranks.” Skwisgaar said as he made his way into Murderface’s room.

“Hey!”

Uncaring, he slammed the door behind him and Murderface gave him a stunned stare. “I needs yous helps now.”

Murderface looked him up and down, like he wasn’t sure what to make of Skwisgaar’s words. “Thisch ischn’t a gay thing, right?”

“Whats?” Skwisgaar was appalled. “N-well, it ams kinds of gays, actuallies.” He sighed. “You ams goods friends with Tokes, rights?”

“I guesch.” Murderface shrugged noncommittally which honestly irritated Skwisgaar but he decided to let it go.

“Does he, eugh…Does he talkeds about Valskentines with yous?”

“Oh,” Murderface rolled his eyes and turned around. “All the fucking time! Me and Schkwisgaar are going to do thisch! Me and Schkwisgaar are going do that! It’sch my firscht Valentinesch ever, Murderface! I’m scho exschited!” He made a disgusted noise. “Made me schick, really.”

The guilt piled up on the pit of Skwisgaar’s stomach. “Does you…remembers any specificks?”

“Uhh, he schaid it would be the firscht date ever for you guysch so he wanted to do everything…” He rested his back against his deck. “Firscht, have breakfascht in bed. Then, go to the petting szchoo to pet the catch. After that, walk in the park while holding handsch and eating…” He shuddered. “Hot dogsch. Then, planetarium vischit to look at the starchs. Then, go to the theater to watch a movie…and then dinner at a fanschy restaurant. He did schpare me the detailsch for the night after that, thank Chrischt.”

“Eugh…” Skwisgaar was impressed. “You shores remembers de hole thingks.”

“Well, he wouldn’t schut up about it!” Murderface defensively and opened the first drawer of his desk. “Look, he even made drawingsch of it!” At once, Murderface spread a bunch of drawings over the top of the desk.

One of the drawings had them petting cats, in another they were walking in the park with the hot dogs, looking at the stars, at a fancy restaurant…there were even some drawings of things Murderface hadn’t described, probably things Toki couldn’t fit into their schedule.

“Why does you has dese?” He asked.

Murderface blinked a couple of times before looking away. “We like drawing together, okay? And he alwaysch leavesch hisch drawingsch here. Idiot.”

“Rights.” Skwisgaar stood up. “I thinks I gots all I needs now, so I’m goingks-”

“Wait, what do I get in exchange?”

“Eugh…Toki’s unconskditionals loves?”

Murderface buffed. “Big deal.” Skwisgaar was walking to the other when he spoke again. “I know it’sch not any of my buschiness but…” Skwisgaar turned to look at him. “He kind of, really likesch you, scho…yeah.”

Unbelievable, even Murderface was lecturing him now. Skwisgaar couldn’t imagine sinking lower. “Rights. Thanks, Moidaface.”

“Whatever.”

Skwisgaar closed the door, a new determination finding its way inside him.

–

“Whats ams dis?” Toki asked, upon finding a letter next to his plate during breakfast. It was a bronze envelope with a blood red seal.

“Hm?” Pickles was stuffing oatmeal down his throat. “No idea, dood.”

Toki was skeptical, looking at Nathan and Murderface eat in silence. “Where ams Skwisgaar?”

Nathan, currently attacking a beef steak, replied. “Uhh, probably sleeping? Who knows. It’s Skwisgaar.”

Still not quite convinced, Toki ripped open the envelope and found a letter inside except there was nothing written in it. Just a red guitar vaguely shaped like a heart. “Alrights, who ams doings this? It amsnt funnies.” He asked with irritation. He wasn’t in the mood to get pranked on Valentine’s Day.

“It’sch probably schomething to do with playing the guitar.” Murderface blurted and the other two glared at him. “Or schomething.” He added to save face.

Toki squinted at his friends. “You guys amsnt collsudings togeders, ams you?”

“No.” All three of them said at the same time, which only made it more suspicious.

“We’re just eatin’ our breakfast here.” Pickles said.

“Yeah, why would we care about anything that ischn’t our breakfascht?”

“It’s not like today is a special day or anything.”

Toki got up from the table, unamused. He wasn’t going to bother with this, he would just get to the root of the problem and cut it off. Simple as that.

“Skwisgaar.” He knocked on his door. “Ams not in de moods for dis okays? Soes just-” The door opened with a creak, revealing an empty bedroom. Toki looked inside, intrigued and found lit red candles melting on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he realized they were skull shaped.

On the bed, there was a guitar made of red rose petals and a pile of Deaddy Bears in different brutal outfits laid in place of the pillows. The TV was showing ‘Love and Guts 4’ Toki’s favorite horror movie and, under it, there was a box of sugar-free chocolates with a note on them.

Meets me wheres we first kiss

Toki’s eyes widened upon reading. Did he mean….?

–

He couldn’t help it, he was supposed to be mad but he couldn’t help running towards the location, excitement drumming inside his chest. What was he expecting? What was going to happen? What had Skwisgaar planned?

When he reached the double-door, he found it only marginally open so he grabbed the knob to reveal the inside.

Skwisgaar was sitting on a stool inside Murderface’s closet, guitar in his hand. He seemed to have been caught off guard because he made a surprised noise when he saw Toki.

Toki tried to catch his breath. “Skwisga-”

Abruptly, Skwisgaar started playing the guitar. First the E, then the G sharp minor, then the C sharp minor, then the A. Then he played the whole sequence again.

“Does you wanna be mines girls-boyfriends…” He sang unsurely. “We’lls walks to the cemeteries and alls kiss you agains…And makes ours dead friends blushks…We ams getting marrieds right dere on de seens…” He inhaled shakily. “Does you wants to be mines best friends? Yous can drives me crazies alls over agains…And alls bores you death oooh, doesn’ts matters when we ams in love. Rights?” He smiled at a speechless Toki.

Then the guitar got heavier, but Skwisgaar’s eyes were still on Toki. “Does you wanna be mines boyfriends?” He continued. "Does you wanna be mine boyfriends? Does you wanna be mines- Does you wanna be mines?” He stood up and kept playing, now closing the distance between them as he finished up the song. When it ended, he had essentially backed Toki against the wall.

Skwisgaar’s expression softened, the confidence from playing was fading into reluctance. “Ams sorries about everythings, Toki. I didn’ts realize how impskortants dis was to yous. Lets me makes it up to yous. Is calleds reservations fors a restaurants and bookeds de movies and plansetariums, ands the pettings zoo has spots fors us and-” Impulsively, Toki locked their lips together and Skwisgaar lost the trail of his thoughts.

“It ams okay, Skwisgaar.” He said when he pulled away. “I just thoughts you didnts…” He shook his head, smiling. “Doesn’ts matters.” Giggling, he laced their fingers together. “Soes, boysfriend?”

Skwisgaar felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “Dats- Dats what de songs-” He stopped babbling and his face turned solemn instead. “Eugh, ja.” With a heavy swallow, he asked. “Does you wants to be mines boysfriends, Toki?”

Toki’s smile was like a thousand beams directed at once at Skwisgaar. “Ja, I wants to bes your boyfriend, Skwisgaar.”

Smiling back, Skwisgaar brought Toki closer to him. “Cans I kiss mines boyfriends now?”

“You cans.” Toki said, the happiness leaking from his face.

As they wrapped around each other, Skwisgaar felt only slightly bad for the mess they were about to do in Murderface’s closet.

But only slightly.

–

“Well, it sure sounds like they’re havin’ fun.” Pickles commented, ear to the closet door.

“Now who’sch gonna clean after them!” Murderface complained. “My closchet isch gonna be dischguschting!”

“Murderface, you don’t even clean your own room.” Nathan countered, already looking tired.

“Yeah, well, neither do you!”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re fucking rich. Just call a Klokateer to get it done.”

“I guesch!”

The closet door banged so loudly that all three of them jolted.

“Okei!” Pickles clasped his hands together. “Who wants t' get wasted to feel less miserable on Valentine’s Day!”

“Me!” Nathan and Murderface replied in unison.

“Let’s leave the lovebirds, then.” Pickles made an example as he walked away from the closet and the two soon followed him.

“Fuck Valentine’sch Day!” Murderface said.

“Yeah, it’s capitalism brutality, and not the kind that benefits us.” Nathan agreed.

“It’s stoopid as hell, like whoa! I’m in love! Big deal!” Pickles threw his hands into the air.

“Yeah.”

“Totally.”

They smiled at each other. Seriously, fuck Valentine’s Day.

#dethentines #dethentines2024 #metalocalypse #skwistok #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #pickles the drummer #william murderface #nathan explosion #valentines day #my writing #no beta we die like men etc

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ftm-radio · 5 months

Text

My gender is 4 years old

...and four days, as of April 15th. This post is a bit late. 😅

Four years ago, all the confusing little puzzle pieces I'd been collecting came together in a genuine eureka! moment and I realized I was transgender. It was exhilarating and terrifying and it undeniably changed my life for the better.

The last few years have felt pretty damn slow and I've had to scramble over a few frustrating obstacles (never changing my name AGAIN, lmao, that was annoying as fuck) but it's all been worth it and now it feels like I'm really making headway.

I started testosterone this past year! I did that! I'm almost 7 months on T now! Currently on a dose of two pumps of gel, which I have only missed applying once in all that time because I was literally sick. The changes are gradual but they are real and they have already brought me so much joy and made me so much happier in my humble flesh prison. 💗

The most anticipated change for me (and for a lot of transmasc folks, I imagine) is my voice, and BOY (heh) am I happy to share this data comparison with you:

[ LEFT: A screenshot from the Voice Pitch Analyzer app, dated November 3rd, 2021. It shows that OP's voice registers fully within the female voice range. RIGHT: Another screenshot from the app, dated April 12th, 2024. This one shows that OP's voice registers mostly between the Androgynous and Male voice ranges. ]

My voice is so different now. It sounds different, it feels different, and in just the last week or so I swear it has gotten a little rougher and raspier and I am LIVING. I could not be happier!!!

...okay, fine, I could be happier lmao.

I'm adjusting to my deeper voice and still learning how to use it in a way I like & that feels best to me, so I'm starting to do some casual at-home voice training again after basically forgetting about the concept completely since 2021. (Whoops.) But I am already so much happier and more content with my voice than I have ever been in my life, so it's only getting better from here, lads. <3

I've also had to go to a lot of appointments and answer a ton of phone calls about said appts recently because I kinda fucked up my eyeball (it's better now, don't worry! and be gentle to your eyes, they are delicate and eye drops are so fucking annoying when you're doing them seven times a day, jfc) and my voice has reached a point where I was a lot more comfortable interacting with strangers and I also didn't notice any surprise or confusion when I introduced myself with a male name! It was kind of amazing.

Also singing is even more fun now. I love love LOVE singing along with a male vocalist and feeling the way my voice kinda rumbles through my chest. 10/10 sensory experience.

Other changes aren't nearly as exciting or obvious as my voice, but here's a quick (?) rundown, for those who are curious:

Mood — Gotta be honest, I don't think I've really noticed any significant change in my day-to-day mood, though I may not be the best judge for this because I have trouble figuring out what/how I'm feeling in general, tbh. But I think I have certainly gotten more comfortable and content with myself and I'd even go so far as to say I feel a little more confident these days. It's nice, I appreciate it.

Acne — I definitely noticed a change in how my acne presents itself on my face. I wouldn't say it's worse than before (I've had very bad acne since I was a young teenager and only got medication for it like, last year which has helped immensely) but I think it's different. More little red spots and roughness than the unpleasant and painful pimples I'm used to. I don't even mind it, really. Oddly affirming.

Facial Hair — I've got facial hair. I really do!!! Not clickbait!!! It's not much, not enough for me to be brave and take my dad up on his offer of shaving lessons quite yet, but it has grown in enough that I don't feel silly including it in self portraits! 🤭🧔🏻 Got a little bit of a mustache happening, a little bit at the sides of my face, some fuzz on my chin (with one LONG hair that I can only assume has been greedy and stealing his brothers' growth), and a frankly surprising lil patch of hair under my jaw. On a semi-related note, not sure if my brows have gotten much darker/thicker. They might have? idk.

my new discord icon, hehe... 👁💜🪓

Body Hair — I have gotten a little more hair on my forearms, and it may have gotten a little darker too! I have a tattoo on my arm just below my left wrist and it's been surprisingly helpful for measuring arm hair growth because for years my tattoo was not covered by hair at all but the left side of it's a little fuzzy now... 😏 I've gotten more noticeable hair growth on my upper arms, which were basically hairless before (free gender euphoria every time I put on my T) and on my thighs. Don't think my lower legs have gotten much hairier, and I'm a little impatient about it lmao. I want to get hairy enough to rival my brother.

Energy/Appetite — Can't say I've really noticed any differences here? I am not a very active person and I already struggled with appetite and getting myself to eat before I started T (thank you adhd & poor eating habits 🥲💀), so I can't quite tell if I'm ignoring more hunger signals than usual. 😅 I am hoping to get more active and start doing more physical activity now that it's starting to get warmer outside again, so hopefully that will help me see these sorts of changes and also get me into some better eating habits as I expend more energy and work up a proper appetite! (Also, since we're on the topic... a reminder for all of us that taking care of yourself and feeding the body you live in is a million times more important than aesthetics and numbers on a scale. ❤)

Menstruation — I am still getting my period right on schedule, but I am happy to say it is considerably lighter than it was before I started testosterone! My period has begun getting shorter, too. It lasted for roughly 7–9 days before, but I was bleeding for exactly 7 days last month, and only 6 days this month. I'm not sure if this trend will continue at such a dramatic rate, but if my next round is only 5 days I will be very excited about it, lol. My uterus can retire any day now, please...

Bottom Growth — if any of my friends read this part, don't speak to me about it lmao — Yeah... there's a little bit of something happening down there. Not a lot, and I haven't really noticed any pain or sensitivity, but there's a Difference. Aaaaand I like it. 😌 I am looking forward to any and all future developments. 😏👉🏻👉🏻

Okay! I think that's it, really.

I know I haven't been super active on this blog for quite a while now (I have really gotten into fandom blogging on my main lmao, and also discord is my favorite thing right now, it's where 90% of my friends live) so I hope this nice, long, ramble-y post makes up for that a little bit. <3

Not gonna make any promises that I'll post here more often, but y'know. I might. It could happen. Definitely not leaving this blog to sit and gather dust, that's for sure. I'll still be reblogging stuff semi-frequently, even if I'm not writing up my own posts.

So goodbye for now, and thanks for tuning in! 👋🏻📻💖💙✨️

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halliescomut · 3 months

Text

Love Sea Ep 2 Watch Along

I am a couple days late because migraines suck, but I'm finally sitting down to watch ep 2. I'm gonna try to gives some first inpressions here, but we'll see how we go.

-Opening shot and I accidentally caught crew in the back of the boat. Hehe...whoops. Can't always catch that.

-When he says "what this man's sex taste like" does he mean literally or figuratively??? Like...I'm just not sure if it's wonky translation, or ???

-Okay, but the way Mut put's their legs together, but keeps their torso's apart....like touching, but not invading Rak's space....that's kinda hot.

-I do come from a seafood family, literally my maternal grandparents ran a seafood restaurant for over a decade, but I'm not a seafood person, so I kinda feel like the food stuff is going over my head.

-Like...I knew it was gonna happen, but I'm still blushing so hard. That eye contact is DANGEROUS.

-Peat's muscles!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!

-Literally Rak is so cranky that he hurt himself and cut off sexy time. His grumpy face.

I love Mook so much. I would die for her, she's so precious.

Are those generic baby shark bandaids??

I love how quickly Rak takes advantage of the loophole Mut presents him with. He immediately is like "you are correct, this is not my bed, let's bang!" (Also I fucking loved this line in the trailer. It's quippy, it's clever, Fort delivers it so well. Perfection.)

I mean...if your gonna engage in sexy time on the beach...oral would be your best option, so....

Jesus with the leg over the shoulder....goddamn.

Those hips are moving quite a lot Rak, be careful with Mut, you don't want to break him.

The mouth wipe.....I'm dying. I will say the timing was a bit fast there at the end, but like...legit portrayal of oral, and not just vaguely refering to it is new in Thai BL, so props for that. (Also it was one of my bingo squares. Yay me.)

I was predicting the whole "I'm inspired, we gotta go back to my room right now", but that did not stop it from being funny as hell.

Is Tongrak basically Mame's self-insert?? I just thought about this, bc they used the MMY logo for the fake website, probably just so they didn't have to bother with getting a non-copywritten one, or pay to use a real one, but like I just thought about this, since he's a writer who writes Y-Series, and part of what P'Vie does (I'm pretty sure) is make them into shows.... fascinating to consider.

We do see the cover for The Boy Next World, both the BN one and the orignal manga-style one...interesting.... As well as the cover for Love Director, which is one of the novels directly related to the LITA side of the Mame-verse....also interesting.

Rak's fake insta is hot. I tell you what, Mame shows got their issues, but costuming is pretty much always on point.

Okay so P'Vie is an actress...still involved with Rak's shows, but not the director I guess.

I really do get distract by how pretty Peat's eyes are.

Okay, Though he was just showering, but then I saw the motion... the blushing begins again. (Look I know I've written smut, and I watch BL, but I'm still Ace, so a lot of times my reaction is very Edwardian noble lady. I'm sorry!)

No, but I paused it to write that last sentence and the look on Rak's face!!!!

Rak is very bite-y. It suits his character, really. I Like it.

That was....very athletic.

I have thoughts about the sex scene. I'll save those for the 'Thoughts' post though.

I do think it's funny that Rak is so disturbed because the sex was good. That's funny.

Side note, I know this is an adult show, it includes a lot of adult themes, but somehow the Hallmark Movie-ness of Mame's shows makes it feel very weird when people cuss. Like, it feels odd for Rak to say Fuck there. It somehow just gives the vibe of 'see how grown-up we are with the cussing'. IDK if that makes sense, or if anyone else feels that way.

Mook's reaction to the forehead kiss is so cute, but P'Vie's got two episodes to get her act together, or I'm gonna start to dislike her.

I still don't remember the name of Mut's friend (I'm sorry) but I do think he's very funny. The actor is doing a very good job.

I know IRL, I would hate the entitledness/possessive-ness of Rak, but that was kind hot.

I love how amused Mut is by Rak. It's one of the things that feels like Fort peeking through tbh.

Oops...none of us did consider that a considerably long motorbike ride the day after some pretty vigorous back door sex may not be the best idea. But also, I feel like this is part of why prep/aftercare is important, and they (meaning BLs) should focus on it more. Like it's wouldn't fix everything, but it would help.

Oh, I really do like Mut's friend...who's name is Palm....I will try to remember.

I doubt this was Mame's intention, but I do appreciate the discussion of how franchised tourism can be harmful to local residents.

Sweet Mut so shy about taking genuine compliments. That's so cute.

Oh I'm familiar with that kind of manufactured flippancy when it comes to speaking about family ties that have been broken.... there be trauma there mateys.

God I have a lot of incomplete thoughts about this scene. I'm gonna have to rewatch and break it down later.

Oh, Rak is 100% a self-insert.

I do wonder when we're gonna get more info regarding that first thought about escaping though. It feels like Rak is trying to keep things surface level, but is accidentally revealing more than he intends.

I respect the attempt to get info out of Kom. I also respect Connor for not giving any.

I'm excited for the diving and underwater shots, but Rak--why the fuck are you wearing a small fortune in high-end designer jewelery for that?? like, leave that shit in your room dude.

Also, I've officially decided I love Palm and his doofus-energy. I will now protect him with my life.

God Bless Wetsuits! Amen!!

Sir what the fuck are you doing???? If this were a different couple I'd say Rak is well on his way to a spanking.

But also, this is so pretty,

Flashback!!! Yes, another bingo box, but also...why do drama parents always break up directly in front of their kids?

There's a metaphor happening about not diving alone and the flashbacks and reconciling his traumas in relation to love/trusting men (in a romantic way)....my brain is too stupid to make a cohesive explanation, but it's there.

I love the way Mut just looks at Rak... like it's fascinating how much Fort is able to portray with his gaze. I thought that during LITA, but it's confirmed here. Because, yes the longing/loving gaze is alive and well, but you can see the concern, the confusion, even the questioning that's happening. It's wild.

Well that's all for the episode. I'll probably rewatch tomorrow and thry to organize my thoughts into something vaguely cohesive, but no promises. Despite the very swift jump into the sex, we got a lot of insight today, into to both of them really.

#love sea #love sea the sereies #love sea ep 2 #tongrak #mahasamut #mutrak #tongrak x mahasamut #fortpeat #peat wasuthorn #fort thitipong

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gyougherea · 4 months

Text

crp/mh pride hcs

got inspired by a mutual (the-s1lly-corner) <3 i wanna have a silly post about my silly guys. under cut bc i might get long

jeff the killer

jeff feels very greyrom/aro bisexual to me, i think he "prefers" women because he doesn't wanna admit he's bisexual at first. idk if he explicitly uses the greyrom label or anything but it describes him pretty well. he/him

liu woods / homicidal liu

can we give it up for TRANSHETS!!!!!!! realized he was trans (ftm) at a young age, didn't get to transition until adulthood because the only family who supported him was jeff. mainly to hide from his past he's also stealth about being transgender. he/him

sully (liu's cohost and protector) is arohet i think? idk haven't thought much but i do think liu and sully have slightly different seuxalities. it/he (EDIT: its sexuality is also influenced by the fact that it's an introject of jeff)

jane the killer

lesbian and also trans mtf!!! transbian jane epic win. i think she knew for a while that she was a lesbian and then also realized she was trans in high school as she was going further through puberty. i think she's femme lesbian specifically??? she/her

nina the killer

bisexual (initially had a pref for women, now just has a pref for the glasgow killer, aka jeff), cis girl but LOOOOOVES experimenting with pronouns!!! she/her default but PLEASE use neopronouns on her she would literally die for you if you got wacky with it

ben drowned

even if he wasn't ethereally both 12 and 32 he would still 100% be aroace. that shit does not intrigue him! he also uses he/they pronouns, maybe it/its. lost their gender in the whole becoming a computer shit

ticci toby

transmasc nonbinary, biromantic asexual! he/him pronouns specifically, despite not being a man he really leans into masculine terms and also even is on T and gave himself top surgery! yes. to himself. don't ask. it looks awful. world's worst top surgery scars award

clockwork

she/her. not butch not femme but a secret third thing (the butchest lesbian twitter can handle before getting scared /ref)

tim wright (two hcs)

normal hc is that he's biromantic aceflux! he doesn't really have a preference, frankly he's nervous about entering a serious relationship regardless of gender. his asexuality is kind of a roulette; he also probably falls between sex-neutral and sex-repulsed. he/him

"my house now" hc is that he's an intersex butch lesbian (not sure which exact intersex disorder but one of the ones i'm debating is something with 46,xx dsd?) that doesn't care about gender but uses he/him and masc terms because someone called him that and he was like "why not lol". he/him but frankly not offended if any other pronouns used

masky uses he/they in the first hc, it/its in the second hc

brian thomas (two hcs)

normal hc is that he's a gay man! discovered he was gay pretty early on in life and was probably tim's unofficial bisexual awakening back in college. very open about his identity, he's like the queer beacon in my eyes. he/him

"my house now" hc is that he's a lesbian and trans mtf! for the longest time she thought she was a bisexual man, but then in her late 20s to early 30s realized that not only did she feel like One Of The Girls(TM) but also that the only "man" she was attracted to was tim, who's not a man, so whoops! transbian time! she/her

hoodie uses he/it in the first hc, it/they in the second hc

jay merrick

trans ftm and bisexual! went on T but hasn't gotten top or bottom surgery before becoming the nefarious skully or whatever. cracked his egg in college, but probably figured out he was biseuxal in high school. he/him

skully uses no labels just vibes. queer/abrosexual and genderfluid are probably the labels that best describe them but again they don't fucking care. they/them default but sometimes uses others depending on which of their "many" are at the forefront

jessica locke

now if that's not the biggest lesbian i have ever seen in my life... her and taylor absolutely get married in lesbians after the comics are over. jessica probably always knew she didn't like boys but didn't realize she liked girls until a fateful sleepover in middle school or something. she/her

nothing specific for the others rn, might make a part 2 if i come up with more <3 adios

#jay's jots #pride headcanons #creepypasta #marble hornets #jeff the killer #homicidal liu #jane the killer #nina the killer #clockwork #ben drowned #ticci toby #tim wright #masky #brian thomas #hoodie #jay merrick #skully #jessica locke

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mushiewrites · 4 months

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Just A Little Bit

well....it's certainly been a minute, hasn't it

but what better way to come back than lee!George week??? If you didn't know (or sleep under a rock), @wishitweresummer is hosting a lee!george week, perfectly named lee!GeorgeSummer (make sure to use that as the hashtag if you contribute)! if you click this link, you can find out all the details about the upcoming week! I got to do my own lee!george week last May and it was the most incredible thing, I honestly am so excited to see what everyone does!

okay, anyway, we're starting off with day 1 - first time!

this idea came to me randomly at 5:30 this morning when I saw a random text post, and it gave me the biggest shot of inspiration, and FINALLY cured my writers block! so much so that I...wrote a pretty long one. ha ha...whoops. aaaanyway, thank you to summer for hosting this awesome week and for cheering me on while you watched me destroy george in the ending, and thank you to my partner in crime @awkwardtickleetoo for listening to me whine about writers block for months, and for supporting me through it all AND reading this before it was posted. couldn't have done this without you both, thank you so much <3

OKAY I promise I'm done rambling, please enjoy the fic! :D

(lee!George / ler!Dream / ler!Sapnap : 4.5K words)

“Dream! Come on, I have to show you something!”

Dream rolled his eyes as Sapnap called him from downstairs for the fifth time in under a minute, chuckling to himself at how impatient he could be. Despite being annoyed, he was also incredibly intrigued, and so he saved the video he had been editing before standing up to go see what all the fuss was about. On his short walk to the end of the hallway, he could hear George squealing and protesting, though he couldn’t make out what was being said.

“What is so important that it couldn’t wait until I finished the video?” Dream called as he reached the thin railing at the top of the steps, clasping his hands around it and leaning forward to find where the two boys were. However, his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he took in the unexpected scene below him.

In the living room was Sapnap, straddling a very squirmy George on the couch. George was screaming and thrashing around while Sapnap was beside himself with laughter through it all. They continued to fight as Dream quickly made his way down the steps, almost losing his balance as he refused to take his eyes off the two as he descended.

“What are you doing-“ Dream’s question was cut off by a squeal from George, who was throwing his body around so violently it looked as if Sapnap was riding a bull.

“DREAM! STOP HIM!”

“Well, what is he-“ Again, Dream’s question was cut off by a scream, this time coming from Sapnap. George had attempted to knee him between the legs, and Sapnap had barely stopped it before it was too late.

“Well now you’re really fucked, aren’t you, George?” Sapnap leaned down close to his face, invading his space with a wide smirk as George’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. He shook his head from side to side frantically, spewing out apologies and practically pleading for his life.

“No! No nohoho no! P-Please! Sapnap, come on!” George pleaded through nervous giggles as he continued to kick and squirm, attempting to escape the smaller boy in any way he could. But Sapnap held his own on George’s waist, clamping his thighs tighter together and giggling triumphantly when it effectively lessened the squirming.

“Can someone just tell me what’s going on?” Dream spoke up awkwardly, now standing at the end of the couch, unsure of what to do. Sapnap and George immediately looked towards the voice, almost as if they forgot the other was there in the first place.

“Oh, right! So, our best buddy Georgie here is- MHF!” George had successfully slapped a hand over Sapnap’s mouth, preventing him from sharing the information with their third party. Sapnap raised an eyebrow down at George, and no more than a second later Sapnap’s hands lowered onto his ribs. The hand over his mouth immediately dropped as George brought his arms to his sides, pressing them tightly against his body as he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in what seemed to be agony.

“George are you-“

“Oh don’t worry, he’s fine! He just doesn’t want you to find out about his little secret.” Sapnap cut him off once again, causing Dream to run a hand through his messy curls in frustration.

“Shut UP, Snapmap!” George hissed from below Sapnap, articulating the dreaded nickname as he reached both hands up to try and cover his mouth again. Unfortunately for George, Sapnap’s strength was too much for him, and his wrists were scooped up into a tight hold.

“If he doesn’t want me to know, it’s okay!” Dream blurted out quickly, seeing how panicked George was becoming. Sapnap shook his head as he chuckled, looking down at George with wiggling eyebrows before he turned his attention back to the blonde.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Sapnap started, his chuckles turning into bright giggles as George struggled harder than he had before to break free. The older boy let out a scream, trying to talk over Sapnap, which in turn only made him more keen on exposing him. George continued to scream every time Sapnap attempted to even open his mouth, and finally fed up with the boy, he placed his hand harshly over George’s mouth. When the noise was finally muffled, Sapnap flashed Dream the biggest smile he had ever seen in their time living together.

“The big secret is that our little friend here…” Sapnap raised his eyebrows as his mouth hung open, pausing for dramatic effect to make Dream laugh. “Is extremely, devastatingly, ticklish.”

Dream felt his jaw drop slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, no doubt looking like a lost puppy as his two friends watched his reaction. George whined behind Sapnap’s hand, squealing when Sapnap released his previously held wrist in favor of roughly squeezing his cheek. The pinching hand was quickly slapped away, but Sapnap made sure to keep his other pressed tightly over George’s mouth. Dream made his way over to where they were on the couch, standing over them and shrugging his shoulders at the two.

“…Really? That’s it?” Dream questioned, not understanding what the huge deal was.

“No, like, Dream. You have to see it. It’s kind of insane how ticklish he is.” Sapnap explained, giggling as George began screaming behind his hand again. Dream looked down at George, purely out of curiosity, and was surprised when the brunette immediately turned his head to face the couch cushions. He chewed on his bottom lip as he turned his gaze to Sapnap, questioning the action, but it went ignored.

“I’m serious! You need to see it! No, wait. Actually, you need to experience it. You need to tickle him, Dream!” Sapnap exclaimed, giggling again when George tried to buck his hips up to make Sapnap lose his balance.

“No, come on Sap, I can see he doesn’t like it.” Dream spoke softly, craning his neck slightly as he leaned his body forward to try and get a glimpse of George. This only made him lean into the cushions more, now trapping Sapnap’s hand between his mouth and the couch.

“No no, don’t mind him! He’s fine, Dream! Just scribble your fingers here!” Sapnap poked at George’s lower tummy twice, making George jolt underneath him and causing Dream to jump back at the panicked action.

“Sapnap, no, we don’t have to-“ Dream tried again, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot, watching as George fought for his life underneath the youngest boy. Sapnap finally removed his hand from over George’s mouth, successfully opening the floodgates to his screams and frantic laughter. George kept his forehead pressed against the cushions, leaving room for him to continue yelling as he blindly battled with Sapnap’s hands that were actively trying to render his own useless.

“It’s fine! He loves it!” Sapnap countered through bubbly giggles, his voice growing louder to drown out George’s girlish screams as he finally managed to wrangle the small wrists down against the couch.

Dream crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his elbows in thought, trying to find the words to make Sapnap stop, when George finally turned his head away from the couch. This left room for the two to finally make eye contact. It was brief, only lasting a few seconds before George turned back towards the couch, but Dream knew immediately what was really going on. It wasn’t that George was uncomfortable like he had initially thought; it wasn’t because he hated it.

Dream was incredibly familiar with George’s tells. Like how his nose would scrunch up whenever he tried a new food he didn’t like. The way George would mess with his hair whenever he got tired, always tangling small strands around his pointer finger without a thought. Dream knew that whenever George would stomp down the steps to steer clear of him until he satisfied his inner hunger-beast.

And he definitely recognized this particular George.

The deep red in his cheeks. The glassy eyes. The continuous whining through his protests that seemed never ending. Dream knew what this really was. George was simply embarrassed.

Realizing this, Dream felt all the tension in his shoulders melt away, finally allowing his arms to drop and a smile to form over his face. He took a step forward, his knees lightly pressing into the seat cushions as he leaned his upper body over George. Already anticipating he would hide further into the couch, Dream brought a hand up to lean on the back of the couch to steady himself and used his free hand to run through George’s hair. Dream’s smile widened when George let out a high pitched whine at the feeling, angry at his body for betraying him as he leaned into the touch.

“Someone’s embarrassed.” Dream stated nonchalantly, sending George into another round of loud protests that had Sapnap in near stitches. Hearing both boys giggle only made George’s blush spread, and he quickly hid his face back into the cushion as his face continued to rise in temperature.

“Awh, is wittle Georgie embawassed?” Sapnap teased, squeezing his wrists a few times playfully to make George struggle against him more. To his surprise, George wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard anymore. Dream was still scratching lightly at his scalp, and the longer it went on the more Sapnap felt George relax beneath him. Slowly, Sapnap released George’s hands, silently observing as the wrists stayed pressed to the couch despite not being held down anymore.

“You’re both idiots.” George mumbled quietly into the fabric, bringing his left hand up to cover his ear and the visible side of his face to hide his own smile. Sapnap reached out to grab onto his wrist, ready to pull it back down, but Dream stopped him before he could. Sapnap met his eyes in confusion, only to have his features soften a few seconds later when he understood the silent agreement Dream was trying to make.

“Oh, come on, George. I can tell you love this. Just let it happen.” Dream suggested, receiving a high pitched growl in response. His hand never wavered from carding through George’s hair as he slowly brought himself down into a kneeling position, therefore freeing up the hand he was using to balance himself against the couch. He brought the hand down the front of the cushion slowly, allowing George time to stop him if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. Just like Dream expected.

“If you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?” George’s nod was almost missed, and would’ve been if Dream hadn’t been watching the blush slowly spread onto his ears. The tips of them were beginning to turn a deep shade of red, and Dream wondered if his cheeks were the same hue. He quickly dispelled the curiosity though, not wanting to make George shy away while in this very vulnerable position.

“Mh mhhm.” Sapnap and Dream exchanged a quick glance to see if the other had caught what George said, but unfortunately neither did. Sapnap sat back on his heels, providing George more space to breathe as Dream did the same. The only touch left on George was the hand steadily scratching, with Dream’s fingertips lightly resting against the seat cushion next to his torso.

“What was that, baby?” Sapnap tried to be as soft as possible, understanding the importance of keeping his tone neutral so as to not spook George.

“My…my hands.”

“What about them?” Dream spoke next, leaning a little closer in to hear the muffled speech.

“I just. I can’t keep them down once you start.” He practically whispered, bringing his other hand up to cover his face completely as he spoke. Dream moved his hand from the couch to rest it against George’s bicep closest to him, rubbing soothingly over the shirt sleeve with his thumb.

“That’s okay, angel, if you need to stop me you can.” He reassured George, carding a little more harshly through his hair as a playful gesture with his gentle words.

“Well…it’s not that I want to. I just…can’t help it.” George let his voice trail off into a whisper, obviously embarrassed about his confession. He quickly tried to twist his body away from the two, but was stopped by Dream’s sudden grip on his arm. The older boy whimpered, allowing himself to be returned to his position on his back, facing the ceiling. His hands were still clamped tightly over his face, a poor attempt at blocking the two from seeing his blush. Dream and Sapnap just about cooed audibly at that, but stopped themselves before they ruined the calm atmosphere they were currently in.

“Do you want me to hold your wrists down for you?” Dream asked. George slowly spread his fingers apart, meeting Dream’s eyes before speaking.

“No, not you! Sapnap!” He barked, closing the gaps in his fingers when the two laughed at his outburst. “You think I want Sapnap to do that to me? He’ll kill me!” Sapnap sat up on his knees with a hand thrown over his heart like he had just been shot, offended by George’s accusation.

“To be fair, he does have a point, Sap.” George giggled quietly at the comment, causing Sapnap to poke timidly into his lower ribs with both pointer fingers. Dream watched as George’s body jerked to the side, amazed at how such a tiny touch could produce such a reaction.

“See! I told you he was bad!” Sapnap playfully slapped Dream’s shoulder when he noticed him looking, further proving the point he was previously attempting to make.

“Shut up!” George screeched from behind his hands, moving them up his face slightly until he was able to lightly grip some of his hair that draped over his forehead. Dream shot one last warning glare Sapnap’s way before he turned back to George, delicately gripping his wrists and moving them slowly towards Sapnap; slow enough that George could stop it if he wanted to.

But again, he didn’t. And again, it was exactly what Dream had expected.

Sapnap took George’s wrists, moving them down until his hands rested against the couch on either side of his thighs. Dream sat up further, crowding a little more into George’s space in order to place both hands on either side of his ribcage. He looked down at George, searching for any sign that he wanted this to stop, that he was uncomfortable, too nervous, but Dream found none. And so, he lifted his hands from the couch and let them touch down onto George’s body, not moving them yet, but resting so he could get used to the feeling at his own pace.

“Fuck!” George cried out when he felt Dream’s fingers press against his lowest set of ribs, throwing himself upwards as his back arched into the sky against his will. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into the couch again, embarrassed by his own reactions.

“I didn’t even do anything yet, George.” Dream snorted.

“I-I know but, like, I know you’re gonna!” George whined, throwing his head back when Dream poked his cheek to get him to return his head straight so they could see him. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to look at either of them but still obeying Dream’s quiet request anyway.

“It’s alright, Georgie. It’s just a little tickling.” Sapnap teased, vibrating George’s wrists softly into the couch as he spoke. George giggled at that, followed by a deep exhale he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. And after that much needed release, his nerves were finally calming down.

“I know, I know. But it’s still, like..y’know, flustering or whatever.” George grumbled, peeking out of one eye to see what the two were up to. Just as he decided to do that, though, Dream poked gently up his ribs, directly up to the highest ones, stopping there when George shrieked in response.

“Plehehease please please! No!” His laughter was louder now that Dream was focused on such a tiny, hypersensitive spot, unable to hold it in any longer. Sapnap giggled along with George as he made sure to keep the squirmy boy down, leaning forward slightly to put more of his weight into restraining George.

“You’re okay, George. Like Sap said, it’s just a little bit of tickling, right?” It was Dream’s turn to tease him, relishing in the feeling of being the one to make George react like this. He pressed two of his fingers into both sides of his upper ribs, rubbing slightly to see what George would do.

“FUCK NOHOHOHO!” George was howling at that, the sound of heavy thudding coming from behind Sapnap as George drummed his legs against the couch as he thrashed. Dream wished he could whip out his phone and snap a picture of Sapnap, who looked as if he’d just found a goldmine. Technically, it was Dream who found it, but Sapnap’s reaction was just as good as George’s was.

“Are you doing okay?” Dream asked loud enough for George to hear over his own laughter. He saw a slight nod but decided to pause entirely to make sure, not wanting to overwhelm George.

“Yehehes, I’m okay, just…please, you hahave to move!” George pleaded as he let his head lull to the side, breathing heavily through his nose as he recovered from the mini tickle attack. Dream rolled his eyes as he watched George’s chest heave up and down dramatically, still surprised at the intense reactions such little tickling was causing.

“Okay, giggly boy, I hear you loud and clear,” Dream began, lifting his hands up and wiggling his fingers over George’s torso. “How about…here?”

“Wh- NO!” George’s protest came too late as Dream tapped his fingers gently over his lower tummy, kneading gently into it and giggling softly to himself when George squealed in response. He felt his finger catch on the edge of his bellybutton, making George’s laughter jump an octave. Dream ran his fingers over the spot directly under it, back and forth, over and over, until eventually deciding to spider them out towards his hips. Sapnap bounced as George attempted to buck his hips into the air, squealing when Dream’s thumbs found his hip bones and rubbed into them roughly.

“Oh, there’s good, huh?” Dream commented, looking up to Sapnap for confirmation while George was busy laughing under his fingers.

“Definitely a good spot. I like to get there when he’s being annoying.” Sapnap answered, laughing when Dream tweaked his hip bones again, causing George to squeal through his hysterics. He noted the spot in his mind and continued his ticklish journey to the spots that made George laugh the hardest. His squeezing migrated up to his sides, eyes widening when George suddenly twisted his whole body away from Dream. Sapnap used his knee to press into George’s hip, trapping his waist down against the couch so Dream could continue tickling up his sides. Dream tested the spot further, letting his hands dip under George’s shirt to skitter cold fingertips along the warm skin.

“Dohohon’t! Plehease!” George begged as Dream’s fingers continued their venture, making sure to knead over each and every rib as they climbed higher and higher. Sapnap watched in awe as George squeezed his eyes shut tighter, a few stray tears collecting together at the outer corners of his eyes as he continued to laugh himself silly.

“Please? But I have to! You wanted this, remember?” Dream reminded him, using two fingers on each side to act as if his fingers were actually walking up his ribcage. George squirmed from side to side, as much as he could with Sapnap’s full weight practically holding him in place.

“‘H-Hold my hands Sapnap! Dream, don’t tickle me too much pwetty pwease!’” Sapnap mocked, breaking out into his own laughter when George let out what could only be described as a lion cub’s roar trying to cover up Sapnap’s teases.

“Stohop, idiot!” George pleaded through his laughter, kicking harder against the couch as he tried to expel the ticklish energy that was coursing through him.

“Awh, Dweam, I think the pretty kitty is angwy!” Sapnap pretended to pout, sticking his bottom lip out as much as he could as he looked at Dream for fake sympathy. Dream gasped at the comment, feigning surprise at George’s complaints.

“The pretty kitty is angry?” Dream stopped tickling for a moment, removing his hands from under George’s shirt and bringing one up to rest under his chin as he pretended to think over his options. “Well, I think I have just the thing to help with that!”

“Wait, no, nonono!” George cried out, throwing himself forward to try and counteract Sapnap’s weight to knock him off balance, but all he accomplished was giving Sapnap more of a reason to make him suffer.

“You wanna play it like that, baby boy? Okay, I can do that.” Sapnap spoke flatly, stopping his moments for a second before throwing himself further over George, flinging his arms up and over his head, pressing his wrists deep into the cushions as George begged and apologized profusely under him.

“Noho NO! I’m sorry! I’m sohoho sorry!” George tried to talk his way out of his impending doom, but it fell onto deaf ears as Sapnap leaned forward slightly, dragging his wrists up further until George’s arms were practically straight up over his head. The position had him completely stretched out, not only extending the area of his torso, but more importantly, leaving a very vulnerable opening under his arms.

“Sorry won’t cut it, George. We want you to be happy! We can’t have our little kitty angry, now, can we?” Dream spoke over the screaming, ignoring the many apologies and threats that were now being thrown their way. “You leave us no choice, pretty boy.” With that, Dream lunged forward, letting his fingers dance under George’s arms with speed and precision that only a ballerina could possess.

It was an understatement to claim that George lost his mind.

George screamed out, high pitched and desperate as Dream’s fingers made circles under his arms, zoning in on the very centers. His laughter was hysterical, having no choice but to lay there and take whatever tickles Dream decided to make him endure. There was a brief pause, just to let George take in a quick gasp of air, and then Dream was back to the torment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad, George.” Sapnap chortled, watching as the small body below him writhed in ticklish agony. Dream took this opportunity to shove his hands inside of George’s shirt sleeves, using his two pointer fingers to gently scribble at the outer parts of his armpits, watching for every tiny jump and twitch from George as he did.

“Yeah, I’m sure I could be doing something much worse,” Dream smirked, looking up at Sapnap with raised eyebrows as he began to spider all ten of his fingers under George’s arms. “Something like this, right? That’s worse?”

“Wh-wait, wa-AHAHAHAIT! NOHOHO!” George was full on shrieking now, squirming and thrashing and throwing his body every which way to try and escape the torturous feeling. As Dream continued the tickling, George quickly lost his ability to speak, just blurting out little half pleads here and there whenever he got a second to breathe. His head was titled so far back the two thought he might snap it off if he leaned it back any farther. The tears that had been clinging to his eyelashes finally fell, rapidly descending down each side of his cheeks, right over his ears, that were burning hot from all the laughing.

“Okay I think- woah! What- Sapnap!”

Just as Dream had noticed the tears and decided to put an end to George’s torment, Sapnap had other ideas. He let go of George’s wrists, allowing him to fling them down, nearly decapitating Dream in the process, in favor of reaching behind him to squeeze the inner part of George’s thighs. His laughter refused to go any higher, and so it went silent as he pounded his fists against Sapnap’s own thighs.

“Okay, Sap, that’s enough. We’re not trying to kill him!” Dream reached behind Sapnap, quickly putting an end to Sapnap’s vice-like grip on George’s thighs. Sapnap rolled his eyes with an overexaggerated sigh, annoyed that his fun was ruined before it even got started.

“I guess you’re right.” Sapnap pouted again as he climbed off of George, picking up his legs and placing them over his own thighs as Sapnap sat on the couch next to him. He rubbed at the sore muscles, giggling when bubbly laughter exploded from George at the action.

“Y-You were supposed tohoho be nihihice!” George weakly pointed a finger in Dream’s direction, causing the two boys to laugh along with him when he pointed the complete opposite way of Dream, his eyes still closed as he took in quick gasps through the leftover giggles to try and steady his breathing. Dream slid his arms under George’s torso, picking him up and maneuvering a very limp George into his lap as he climbed up onto the couch next to Sapnap. He draped George’s back over his thighs, using his arm as a headrest for George.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just hard not to get carried away when I’m tickling someone this cute.” Dream smiled down at him, bringing his thumbs up to rub the tears away from under George’s eyes. A moment later, George’s eyes fluttered open, his hands coming up to rub his knuckles harshly into them as he got used to the light again.

“Yeah, yeah. Remember that when I get you both back, later.” George threatened, giggling up at the two when they exchanged nervous glances. “Yeah, that’s right. And don’t think you both will team up on me again. You’re both too smart for that. You’ll turn on each other, just wait.”

Sapnap and Dream turned towards each other, smiles slowly fading into determined looks. Suddenly George was on his back on the floor as they both scrambled to run out of the living room, trailing each other up the steps, shouting threats and cursing each other as they made their way to their respective rooms, slamming the doors behind them. Not even a second later, George heard his phone vibrating like crazy on the couch cushions above him. He picked up his phone, smirking when he had messages from both boys, detailing each other’s weaknesses and vowing to make amends with him to take the other one down. George giggled to himself, standing up and walking over to where Patches had been sitting on the other end of the couch, snuggling up with her.

He had them exactly where he wanted them.

(you can find this fic on ao3 here!)

#lee!george #ler!dream #ler!sapnap #ahhh this was so much fun to write ): <3 #mushie fics #mcyt tickle #my stuff #lee!GeorgeSummer

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berrypass-de-murdler · 28 days

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84. The Tour of Death

MAde a post regarding book progress but literally no one saw

So uh have another episode

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico is early!

LOGICO: The only thing worse than being late is being EARLY PAIINNNNNN SMOKY: Wanna join us? We’re taking a tour of the studio! LOGICO: I GUESS… COPPER: Oh look who’s here.

With them, Lapis, and Raspberry, Logi wants to leave now. But it’s tooooo late! Wanna know what else is too late? The tour guide is dead!

LOGICO: Who could have possibly seen that coming. SMOKY: Uh-oh! Who could have done that? LOGICO: [facepalm]

Lapis looks pure evil, Copper looks… worse than usual, and Raspberry looks traumatized.

LOGICO: Are you alright? RASPBERRY: …I’MMA GO LIE DOWN…

The tour begins, without the guide.

LAPIS: I’ve always wanted to meet a celebrity. LOGICO: Okay, I'm not 'CELEBRITY' enough for you I guess?

Copper wants to bite Raspberry’s throat.

RASPBERRY: PLEASE… PLEASE NO… ENOUGH… LOGICO: The fuck is wrong with you two? COPPER: WHAT YOU MEAN WHAT’S WRONG, WE HATE EACH OTHER’S GUTS YOU KNOW THAT!!!!! [heavy panting and blushing] SMOKY: Oh, wow! LOGICO: Stop saying oh wow.

Not much is happening here, at all. It’s just a normal tour, just with no guide. Raspberry left at some point I guess, that’s pretty sus. Frankly, Lodge is bored with this tour, and this case. So he makes some fun out of it by calling Irra.

IRRATINO: Iiiiiit’s shorty! LOGICO: DO NOT IRRATINO: I’m kidding. Whazzup. LOGICO: I don’t know, what’s up with you. IRRATINO: Okay bro, you have GOT to see the freak storms that are happening right now. It’s so cold in here! LOGICO: Did you just call me ‘bro’? IRRATINO: Knew you wouldn’t like that. Whoops. Anyway, um- LOGICO: Not to mention I CAN’T see the freak storms?? IRRATINO: All right, all right! LOGICO: Oh right I forgot. I’m on a tour of the Midnight studios right now, and the tour guide is dead.

Logico explains the weak testimonies he was given, most of which have to do with some fake award.

IRRATINO: Well see, Lapis and Raspberry must both be telling the truth, or else Smoky is lying too. See, now you’ve got me using logic! LOGICO: I love you. IRRATINO: What?

Logico quickly hangs up. He had a feeling Raspberry wasn’t guilty. In fact… Smoky is.

SMOKY: FATHER, I TOLD YOU I COULD DO IT! HAHA! This is just like a Midnight mystery! Oh my god! Can I be in the movie?? PLEASE?? LOGICO: NO, fool! You are NOT an important character!

Logi storms off, done with all of this. UGH!! When will the movie start?…

The end!

Jumpscare

Where did evybody go

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

#murdle #cartoonmurdleverse

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driftycities · 1 year

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Okay everyone, take this as my official introduction to the LITG fandom! I haven't written any fanfic in 5+ years, and this is my first LITG fic, so please be kind!!

I'll be uploading to ao3 as soon as I'm off the waitlist (didn't realize there was one, whoops), so for now please enjoy it here!!

Excited to talk and theorize this season with you all 🥰

💕 MC/Lewie fluff

🏠 Post-villa AU

📝 7.2k+ words

“Babes, fuck, I’ve really gotta go!”

Lewie rarely swore. Sage had noticed that about him pretty early on, and she found something so charming and pure about it. When he did swear, it came out of him as more of an aggressive whisper than anything else, and sometimes he even apologized after. She’s pretty sure she had uttered a curse at least once every time she spoke in the villa, but he never minded. He always gave her his softest, cheekiest smile, like he was amused with the language that would come out of her mouth. The first time she heard him swear was when he stubbed his toe on the end of their bed one night, a few nights after they were finally allowed to be a couple for the first time in the villa. The “Oooh, shit” had come out of him so quietly Sage wasn’t sure if she even heard him correctly. But for some reason, the innocence of it all had made her heart flutter.

Since then, Lewie has only cursed aloud in front of her if one of four things were happening: 1) he hurt himself (for a professional midfielder, Sage always wondered how he could be so clumsy around his own furniture), 2) he was drunk, 3) they were fucking (Sage’s personal favourite; the first time she heard his low growl ‘fuck’ she nearly came right then and there), and 4) he was running late to the pitch. Today was number four.

It was their last game of the season, and if they won, they would be promoted to Championship football. They weren’t expecting to be this successful this season and Sage could see the pressure was starting to mount on Lewie over the past few months. It had been even worse for him over the past week after an unexpected loss, and she worried he was spending too much time taking care of his teammates instead of himself. She did everything she could to ease his stress - two-hour back rubs, making his favourite dinners, motivational pep talks that she wasn’t sure were working or not, and a lot of blowjobs. She never imagined herself enjoying blowjobs as much as she does now, but it was something about the way he reacted to her - his low moans and subtle gasps as his body shook from pleasure - that made her go just as crazy. And Lewie never let her go without returning the favour. In those moments Sage could see his stress crumble as he allowed himself to breathe, but it never took long for his walls to go back up. He tried to hide it as best he could so as not to worry her, but she felt him toss and turn at night, noticed how often he was zoning out, and saw something that resembled fear behind his small smiles. He brushed it off as nerves, but he was a terrible liar.

Sage came out of the bathroom, scrunching her damp, blonde hair in a towel to see Lewie hurriedly tying his training boots and muttering to himself. He was dressed in his warmup gear - a blue training jacket that complemented his blue eyes perfectly and fitted black and white joggers that left little to the imagination - with his duffle bag already thrown over his shoulder. He hadn’t had time to fix his hair that morning so his blonde strands looked like a dishevelled mess, but hell, she didn’t mind. He looked so fucking good.

Almost two years later and she still couldn’t believe her luck. Their luck. They had won Love Island with over fifty per cent of the vote, her sister had come in second with Marshall, and her and Lewie’s best friends, Grace and Ozzy, had come third. Lewie’s old football team had been promoted to a higher league that same summer - something he described as only the second best thing that had happened to him that year - and shortly after, he had been transferred to Charlton United, a London team that brought him into the third tier of English football, and right into Sage’s flat. They had excitedly made plans to move into a larger place if his team got promoted this year, somewhere a bit closer to the training facility, and she was planning on opening up another gym in Greenwich.

Everything was going a little too perfectly with them. It scared her sometimes, and each day she woke up half expecting World War III to be burning outside because at least that would make a bit more sense than whatever fucking perfection was going on here. Both of them got along with each other’s parents (even their parents were good friends now), Sage had been preparing to move to Cardiff until Lewie landed here by some miracle, they were planning to get a dog together (and both wanted a Bernese Mountain Dog since they were children, go figure), and if she thought she was in love with him the night they won, she wasn’t sure what to call it now. Something even deeper, more profound, something unspoken between the two of them that gave way in small touches and glances.

They had fights, of course, but Lewie was almost just as perfect during an argument. He handled her hot temper with grace, never raising his voice and allowing her space to cool down before they could talk calmly. He owned up to his mistakes and apologized whenever he did something wrong, which was rare. Sage could see why he made captain at his new club within just three months. He just had a natural easiness and camaraderie with everyone he encountered. She would spend the rest of her life wondering why he chose her if he gave her that gift.

“Babes, gimme a kiss real quick, I have to go!” His hurried Welsh accent snapped her out of her thoughts and she smiled at him, kissing him with sweet haste. “I’ll see you at the game, yeah?”

“I’ll be the one wearing number eight,” she winked. She found it funny that he still asked when she hadn’t missed a game - home and away - since they’d been in London together. “Don’t forget, Amelia and Marshall and Ozzy and Grace are coming too!”

“It’d be hard to forget with all of Ozzy’s good luck messages,” he laughed. He gave her another kiss, this time letting it linger with a soft hand on her cheek. “I’ll see you lot there. I love you.”

“Good luck babes, I love you. You got this.” They shared another smile before he left, and she had to laugh as she glanced at the clock. Lewie considered himself “late” if he wasn’t at least two hours early.

Sage would always be grateful that Lewie was on the pitch and not with her in the stands, screaming a curse every other word and maybe bullying the referee just a little. He may appreciate her passion, but be utterly horrified by the words coming out of her mouth. She blamed her dad, who had season tickets to Arsenal games while she was growing up, and exposing her to football culture at a young age. She cursed for the first time when she was 11, calling the referee a “fucking wanker” in her oversized Thierry Henry shirt, and perhaps the first time she made her dad proud. She did get a lecture about her language afterwards, but it was hard to take her dad seriously when he couldn’t stop smiling.

Thankfully, Amelia was with her today, so she didn’t have to hide it like when she watched games with Lewie’s parents. God, that had been torture. His parents assured her they didn’t mind, but they shared the same tranquil nature as Lewie and she didn’t want to ruin their peace by screaming at a man just trying to officiate the match, however poorly he was doing it.

“Oi, what a piece of fucking garbage!” Amelia huffed and sipped her beer, shaking her head. “What piece of shit let him graduate referee school?”

“They’re all pieces of fucking shit!” Sage countered, shaking her head and sipping her drink in unison with Amelia. They were only twenty minutes into the match, but that was more than enough time for their blood pressure to spike. Behind them, Ozzy and Grace silently watched the match, chuckling at Sage and Amelia.

“You two are the real entertainment here,” Grace laughed, wrapping her arm around Ozzy’s. “Who would have thought I’d enjoy a football match this much?”

Marshall slung his arm around Amelia’s shoulder, wearing a bright smile as he watched the match. “I’ve gotta bring you to more games, love, your yelling is kinda turning me on.” With that, Amelia giggled as she buried herself into him. Sage was about to tell them to get a fucking room, but the referee then allowed the opposing team a penalty kick after a very unintentional and barely noticeable “handball” and she felt her anger being redirected.

“Oh, what the fuck buddy?! Did you even pass your last eye exam?!”

“I’ll pay for your new frames you fuckin’ shithead!”

Grace stifled a giggle as Ozzy playfully shook his head. “You know he can’t hear you two, right?”

“If he could, I’d be banned from this place a long time ago,” Sage mused, watching as the other team scored an easy goal from their penalty. “Oh, fuck.”

Amelia’s face fell as she swapped glances with the rest of the group, a knowing look on all of them that resembled the subtle fear Lewie had been carrying around with him all week. Marshall hugged Amelia closer, quietly whispering, “It’s alright, he’s got time. Still early.”

Sage found Lewie on the pitch as they fell back into their starting formation, watching as he energised his teammates and ensured their heads were still in the game. He moved to the crowd then, lifting his arms and clapping to make sure they were still energized too. Sage loved how much he loved his fans - he knew they were an integral part of the team’s success and their noise always motivated him. Once he got the crowd roaring again, he looked for her face in the seat that’s been reserved for her all season, and smiled sweetly when he caught her eye. As he waited for the whistle he placed his hand subtly over his heart, and she mimicked the motion, smiling knowingly at each other until the whistle forced his attention back to the game.

“God, you two are so perfect,” Amelia sighed, smiling at her sister. “And you’re going to have very blonde and perfect adorable little babies one day.”

Sage couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head a little. “Well, you’re going to have little Jason Mamoas running around, so you’re one to talk.” She wrapped her arm around her sister and leaned into her, sighing softly. “Babes, this is the biggest game of Lewie’s career so far, and if he loses this one I’m afraid I won’t be able to comfort him in the way he needs.”

“Oh please,” Amelia scoffed, squeezing Sage’s shoulder. “That boy lives to make you happy. He’ll be okay as long as he knows the people around him are okay, especially you. Besides, he’s got a lot of reasons to fight for this one.”

Sage would’ve questioned her further, but Lewie had the ball and he was making the Oxford players look like they still played in youth league. She cheered as he showed off his footwork, manoeuvering himself and the ball out of small spaces, eventually serving a perfect cross to the box and right at the feet of their striker in waiting. He hit the ball perfectly, and it soared into the back of the net, triggering the crowd to erupt in a crazed hype of applause and yells. Sage was confident she was the loudest of them all.

It stayed 1-1 until halftime, and Marshall and Ozzy left to retrieve everyone another round of drinks. With a bit more alcohol in their system, Amelia and Sage grew a little louder and a bit more brazen in the second half, with Grace joining in on the referee shaming, laughing every time she insulted him. “Oh shit, this is fun!” she mused.

Eighty-eight minutes in and they were all a bit more rigid as the game came down to the wire. A tie wouldn’t matter, they needed to win if they wanted to be promoted, and the whole stadium felt it. Sage had her eyes fixed on Lewie for the past ten or so minutes, watching as his sweat coated him in a sweet glisten and made more noticeable the tan he’d been developing over the spring, and his already insane quads. He adjusted his captain’s armband as he waited for a throw-in, running his hands through his drenched hair, although it was no use. He subtly battled with an Oxford player as they awaited the throw-in, deep in Oxford’s territory. When the ball landed at his feet, Sage swore she had never seen such determination and hostility in his otherwise innocent blue eyes. Fuck, she thought, biting her lip. He’s going to get the fuck of his life tonight. He won the battle (as he usually does), and started dribbling toward the Oxford box, only one defender in his way-

“What the fuck?!”

Lewie had yelled so loud when he hit the ground that she was sure the TV audience at home probably heard it. The defender had tackled him savagely just outside the box, prompting a quick whistle and a yellow card that most certainly should have been red. Sage watched as Lewie got up and wiped some grass and sweat off his forehead, shaking his head. She breathed a quick sigh of relief knowing that he was okay, but her anxiety refused to let up as Lewie prepared for the free kick. He lifted his shirt to wipe his face, his abs peaking through and glistening in sweat as he chattered with a teammate about their tactic.

Lewie was going to go for it. She knew he was, and the team would be stupid not to let him. Whereas he wasn’t always the most confident around her, he was confident on the pitch and he was confident as fuck when it came to free kicks. That was his speciality. Her magician.

He waited for the whistle as he quickly looked in her direction, giving her that signature smile and hand on his heart. She replicated the motion, giving him an encouraging nod that she wasn’t sure he’d be able to see.

“Come on, Lew,” Amelia muttered anxiously, her hands on her face. The clock was at ninety minutes now, and the assistant referee announced there would be just two added minutes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, two?! What a fuckin’ shithead.” Sage was practically bouncing up and down now, shaking her head at the referee and holding her hands together to calm her nerves. Grace put her hands on her shoulder, giving them a quick squeeze.

“He’s got this, love,” she whispered encouragingly.

The whistle sounded, and Sage watched as Lewie’s chest moved with a deep breath, his hands at his hips. His vision narrowed on the top right corner of the goal, and then the ball, and he delicately jogged up to it, kicking it forcefully with a curve to get it behind the wall. The entire stadium held their breath at that moment, a deafening silence as everyone watched the path of the ball…which made the ding of the crossbar that much more painful. Sage’s breath hitched as the rest of the stadium groaned and yelled unpleasantly, but she could barely hear them. Her senses were locked on Lewie, who was trying to save the play after the ball bounced back into the box, but a defender quickly punted it out of play.

The whistle sounded to declare the game over.

The Oxford away fans stormed the pitch from the other end, where their players met them halfway, shouting and celebrating like it was their home pitch.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lewie. He had collapsed to his knees after the whistle, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, hands on his hips. He was completely zoned out, staring at the crossbar. She didn’t want to imagine what kind of shit the fans yelling at him behind the goal right now. He ran a hand through his hair before leaning forward on his arms, his head in the damp grass, and she hoped that would help muffle the sound of the stadium. If he needed to be in his own world for a moment, then he deserved to do that for however long he needed.

It seemed like he was in that position for ages before he slowly climbed up to his feet, the life drained from his features as he used the end of his shirt to wipe his eyes. He walked over defeatedly to his teammates who had also let their legs collapse from underneath them, some of them sitting in the grass, some laying on their backs, some just standing motionless as they tried to drown out the celebrations on the other end.

He hoisted each one of them up, telling them something in their ear and slapping their back affectionately. He gathered the entire team before they walked to the stands, applauding and thanking their fans for giving them their Saturday afternoon and sticking with them.

They made their way around the stadium, and Sage saw Lewie crack a small smile for the first time as he met a young fan in the first row. The little boy had been crying, but something Lewie said made him smile, and his eyes lit up when Lewie took off his jersey and handed it to him.

What a fucking man, Sage thought, her own tears glistening in her eyes. Just had the worst heartbreak of his life and he’s out here making sure this boy has something good to leave here with.

As the team made their way into the tunnels, Lewie looked up at her seat for the first time and mustered a small smile, shirtless and fiddling with his captain armband in his hands. She offered a smile back, but he had already switched his gaze to Amelia. He shook his head subtly at her before looking down and heading into the locker room.

Amelia sighed sadly next to her, and Sage glanced over, asking, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Amelia smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. “C’mon, let’s go wait for him outside.” She wrapped her arm around Sage before they joined the rest of the crowd shuffling out.

An hour later and Sage was climbing into the car with Lewie, who had switched into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. He had taken a quick shower, but his hair was still a mess, and his eyes were red with strain.

��Lewie, you still up for dinner, mate?” Ozzy called gently, opening his passenger door for Grace.

“Yeah,” Lewie replied through the window, and it wasn’t lost on Sage that his voice was just slightly hoarse. “We’ll see you lot there at 8, yeah?”

“See you there, Lew!,” Amelia called, smiling at him encouragingly. “You did great today by the way.” Lewie just nodded as Amelia and Marshall got into their car, driving away behind Grace and Ozzy. Lewie watched as they drove off and once they were out of sight he dropped his hand from the gear shift and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel and burying his face into his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered softly, his body slightly shaking.

Sage had never seen him like this. He’d lost before, but he never carried it like this. He always tried to find the positives after a loss - “we just need to work on our defence more”, “I’ve gotta get the guys to play with a bit more heart next time”, “we can beat them next time, it was just a bad day”, “I’ll train harder next time”, “we need to work on our set piece tactics, that’s all”. She understood why this loss was so different - he had been so fucking close to the Championship league and it fell apart right in front of him, at ninety minutes and not enough time to recover. There was no ‘next time’, at least not until the new season in three months, where they’d have to start from scratch again. She felt his pain then when the crossbar dinged, when the final whistle sounded, and she feels it now. She felt everything with him. But she wanted more than that - she wanted to make him feel okay with the loss, at peace with it, she wanted him to know that she was still so fucking proud of him and that was never going to change.

She rested her hand on his back, rubbing it softly as he tried to steady his breathing. “Babes,” she started gently. “I know this one fucking hurts, but you have to know how fucking proud of you I am. One bad moment does not define you. You played your fucking heart out there today and you were bloody amazing. Can we talk about that fucking assist? Blew my fucking mind. And after the game, you let yourself process your thoughts for however long you needed before getting the team together and thanking the fans, who don’t always deserve it, but you do it anyway because that’s who you are. You made a little kid’s whole fucking week because you want others to be happy even when you’re not. You encourage everyone around you to be better, you make sure everyone around you is okay, and you deserve that peace too. This one will take some time, yeah, but next season you won’t just be fucking promoted, you’ll win the whole fucking thing. I’ve never met anyone as determined or modest as you, and you deserve the whole fucking world.”

He sighed and sat up straighter, looking over at her for the first time and taking her hand softly into his own, kissing it sweetly. “I love you. Thank you for always being here, win or lose, or…tie.” He squeezed her hand gently and smiled sweetly, but she could tell he was still holding something back. He looked down at her hand, sighing softly again. “I just…” he started, swallowing. “I didn’t know what to say to them. In the locker room. I had no idea what to fucking say. This one was big and it was my bloody fault.”

“Hey.” Her voice was soft as she held his cheek in her hand, his stubble tickling her slightly. “It wasn’t your fault. You led this team so fucking well this year and brought them to where they are right now, isn’t that right, Mr. Leads-The-League-In-Assists?”

He smiled a little wider this time, nodding hesitantly. “Yeah,” he mused. “I just…” He trailed off, waving his hand slightly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” He gave her an almost-convincing smile as he squeezed her hand again. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?” His eyes were as sincere as she’d ever seen them, and she felt his love just through his gaze. Two years later and she was still getting butterflies.

“Yeah, I know. I love you just as much, if not more.”

He scoffed at that. “Mmm, sure. Let’s get you home so we can get ready for dinner.” He leaned over to give her a kiss and she held him to her lips, kissing him hard, trying to convey all of her love and pride for him in just that single moment.

They didn’t get to the restaurant until it was almost 8:30 - Sage’s fault, and definitely not Lewie’s, who had been ready an hour and a half earlier. He had come to expect this after nearly two years together, hell, he knew it way back in the villa when she was always the last to come downstairs. He never minded it, he actually loved it - she was always worth the wait. And once they moved in together he started being something like her hype man, watching her try on outfit after outfit and telling her how fucking amazing she looked in everything. He wasn’t much of a help in that way, he supposed, but he wasn’t lying, and he definitely wasn’t planning on stopping. Once an outfit rendered him speechless, she knew she had found the one. Tonight, it was a sleek, pastel pink dress that hugged her curves with a slit that travelled to her thigh, and for a few moments, as he stared at her, he forgot all about the match.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand, scanning the room for their friends until Amelia waved them down from a corner table. Lewie moved his hand to Sage’s lower back, guiding her over and awaiting the surprise when she saw-

“Our parents?!” She exclaimed, looking up at him in shock. He just smiled, nodded and led her over to see them.

They greeted their parents happily, and Lewie pretended not to notice his mum’s lingering gaze on his still reddened eyes. He was surprised when Sage’s dad opted for a hug instead of their usual handshake but took it appreciatively. They had grown quite close over the past couple of years - her dad was well into his football and tried to convert him into an Arsenal fan but with no luck. He went to a lot of his games, always sitting with Sage, and Lewie was pretty sure he’d heard them wildly insult the ref on numerous occasions. He never said anything - he didn’t want to embarrass her, and he loved the image of her and her dad acting like lunatics in the stands. It never bothered him, he was proud that she had his back like that. He just smiled to himself and played harder for her.

“I’m sorry about the match, Lewie,” her dad spoke quietly into his ear. “You played great as always, but I’m sorry you couldn’t go through with your plan.” He gave Lewie an encouraging smile as he pulled away, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “Right, now that they finally showed up, can we eat?”

Throughout dinner, Lewie’s hand never left Sage’s thigh, like letting go of it would just bring him back to the ding of the crossbar. Her touch was like a fucking drug, starving off the bad thoughts that he had after every poor match. He tried to keep it to himself most of the time, which was usually pretty easy, but this one was nearly impossible to keep in. He had plans. And he worried that the ding of the fucking crossbar would ruin everything. He gently squeezed her thigh as he tried to convince himself that the fucking ding wouldn’t haunt his dreams tonight.

He listened as Sage laughed with Amelia, trading stories of their childhood like they always did when they were together. He was surprised at how many stories they had, but they always left him amused as he imagined a young Sage getting into trouble. He talked with her parents a bit more, going over his plans for the summer and when his pre-season training would start up again. He reminisced on villa memories with Marshall, Grace, and Ozzy, bringing him back to one of the happiest times of his life as he held Sage closer. His mom had told him what a great game he had, and that it must’ve been a gust of wind that moved the ball to the crossbar. He appreciated the effort, but it left him feeling worse. Sage dropped her hand to his thigh then, squeezing it assuredly and smiling at him. He mustered up a smile of his own, but it couldn’t help the pit in his stomach.

After they had finished eating, Lewie reluctantly left Sage’s side to get a drink at the bar at Ozzy’s request. He ran his hand through his hair as he leaned on the bar, fiddling with one of the coasters. “You can still do it, y’know,” Ozzy muttered, looking over at him.

Lewie shrugged defeatedly, sighing sadly. “You know it’s complicated now.”

“She would follow you across the fucking globe, mate.”

“I don’t want to put her in that position.” He glanced over at their table, watching with butterflies in his stomach as she tipped her head back and laughed intoxicatingly at something her dad said. The pit returned soon after, though, as he was reminded of the circumstances. “I’m not moving her away from her family.”

“You remember when she almost moved to Cardiff with you?”

“I went along with it because I knew I had the London offer coming in,” Lewie admitted, flipping the coaster in his hands.

“Well,” Ozzy sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that was further than where you might be going now.” The bartender came over and took their order, pouring their two scotches quickly before handing it over. “You just need to talk to her. Let her have a say in this decision.”

“I’m not going, Oz,” Lewie said, taking a sip of his scotch. “I’m staying in London. We have plans here. She has family here. We have you guys here.”

“So you’re going to deny the opportunity you’ve been given because what?” Ozzy was facing him now, waving his arm around, growing a bit impatient. “Because you think she’s going to say no? Because she’ll miss her family? You guys will be a train ride away from here, and all of the plans you have here can be done elsewhere.”

“It’s more than a train ride,” he muttered. “Her life has always been here, Ozzy. She’s happy here. She has family here, her business is here. We have another shot next season, I’ll just make damn sure it happens for us this time.” He rubbed his face in his hands, shaking his head. “She’s done so much for me already, mate, I have to give her something in return. She deserves this at least.”

“Lewie, at least give her the fucking option. If she found out you had this offer on the table and you didn’t take it, she’ll never forgive you.” Ozzy took a swig of his scotch, shaking his head. “Scratch that, she probably would eventually forgive you, but that’s just how much she fucking loves you. And if we’re talking about what she deserves, she deserves to know what’s going on with your life right now.” He gave him a pointed look before walking back to the table, sitting down beside Grace and wrapping his arm around her, getting himself up to speed with the conversation.

Lewie slowly drank the rest of his scotch at the bar, battling himself in his mind and mulling over the past few months. He would have bet on a promotion two months ago when the team was in top form and playing well together. But one bad game after another, and here they were. He blamed himself for a lot of it - as captain, he should have led the team better. He should have kept them motivated. He should have done a better job at reminding them what was on the line. Maybe he should have been harder on them. Maybe he should have been more understanding. Maybe he should have been practising his fucking free kicks a lot more. He had no fucking clue, but he would be going over every moment in his mind for a long time, no matter where he ended up at the end of the summer. He would’ve loved to keep playing with this team - he was proud of how much better they’d gotten over the season, he was close friends with a few of the guys, and they were in London. He’d been here for a year and a half now, and he liked to think this is where his life was. Surrounded by friends, Sage’s family, her business, and her. Her life was here and he’d worried she wouldn’t feel at home anywhere else. She’d been more than willing to move to Cardiff with him after the show, but he made her wait until the January transfer window, knowing he had a few clubs interested in him. The London move was a dream come true for both of them, and he knew she’d been relieved. He’d hate taking that dream away now.

His eyes flashed up to the screen above the bar, seeing the match’s highlights playing over. He sighed as he watched the free kick, cringing at seeing how fucking close he had been. He swore he could hear the ding all over again as he finished his scotch and returned to the table.

Sage looked questioningly at him as he sat down, but he squeezed her hand under the table to let her know everything was alright. He had no fucking idea if it actually was, but he did know Ozzy was right. She deserved to know what was going on with him.

Everyone said their goodbyes not long after, and Sage thanked their parents for the surprise. Lewie shared another hug with her dad, thanking him for coming to his match and to dinner. “You still have my blessing,” he just replied quietly. “Win or lose, or tie, her answer will be the same.” Lewie smiled and nodded his appreciation, trying to ignore the pang in his stomach.

As they climbed into their car, Sage sighed loudly. “You alright, babes?,” he asked, looking over at her as he shut the door.

“Lewie, what the fuck is going on?” She asked, looking at him pointedly, her soft green eyes pleading with him. “Why are our parents out for dinner with us? And more importantly, why are your parents here from Wales, and why was it such a fucking surprise?” She sighed again, running her fingers through her blonde waves. “Amelia has been acting weird all day, you’ve been acting weird, my dad has been acting weird, Ozzy has been acting weird - and what happened at the bar with you two? It didn’t look like he was very happy with you.”

He sighed softly, moving his body awkwardly in the car so that he was facing her. He took her hands in his, fiddling with the rings she wore, and noticing how empty her ring finger looked. She deserves to know what is going on in my life, he told himself, taking a deep breath. No matter how much it scared him, she deserved a choice. He looked up into her eyes, admiring how the moonlight bounced off them. He noticed that on their first date in the villa, when he was telling her his dreams and his dream date, and he felt his body fill with warmth as he remembered taking her on that very date a week after the show ended. They had been through so much since then, but he never doubted their relationship, never doubted that she was his person, never doubted that they would grow old together with their five plus dogs and a house on the beach.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

The question caught him off guard, and he shook his head, looking at her incredulously. And he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Babes, if I were breaking up with you, why the hell would I invite our parents?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking down and laughing. They giggled together for a minute, and he welcomed the sound. It calmed him. “But you’re being very serious and very weird tonight, so it crossed my mind.”

He shook his head again, smiling softly but confidently at her like it was the wildest thought she ever had. “We weren’t supposed to lose today,” he started finally, squeezing her hands. “It wasn’t the plan.” He sighed as she moved her body to face him.

“That’s okay,” she started softly. “You still played amazing, and next season you’re going to win the whole fucking thing. You guys are more than-”

He nodded, gently putting his finger to her lips. “I know,” he smiled. “Thank you for saying that, but please, let me finish.” She nodded, kissing his finger and letting him continue. “I had a plan for today - I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Once we started climbing the table earlier in the season, I thought about it. For a bit, I thought no way in hell we wouldn’t be promoted. We were doing really well, in top form, and so I planned something for the last game of the season. But then we had a couple of bad matches, and everyone else started playing good all of a sudden, and I just…” he trailed off, sighing again. He tried to keep himself on track. “My plan isn’t important, but losing the game today just mucked up a lot of stuff in my head. I just had this vision, and now I’m a bit scared, to be honest.” She gently squeezed his hands as he caught his breath. “My agent told me a few weeks ago that some clubs were interested in signing me this summer. I don’t have a whole lot of say in this stuff, but I can say no, so please remember that.” He squeezed her hands, meeting her eyes pleadingly, wanting to make sure she knew that no is an option. She just nodded, waiting for him to go on. “Most of the offers are from other level three teams, but one…”

“Oh my god, Lewie,” she started, her eyes widening. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled onto her face, having a good feeling about whatever it was he was about to say.

“One of them is from the Championship, and specifically, Middlesbrough.”

“Middlesbrough?!” She threw her hands around his neck, hugging him as best she could in the close confines of the car, but she didn’t care. Any offer from the Championship was huge, but Middlesbrough?! They were a good, solid team, and looked to be promoted to top-flight football in the next few years. She was so fucking proud of him, and he deserved all of this.

He held onto her, letting himself smile into the crook of her neck. He knew she’d be happy for him, but her happiness was still so fucking contagious that for a moment he forgot why he didn’t tell her sooner. “Babes, fuck, I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

“I haven’t anything on paper yet, don’t get too excited,” he told her, smiling as she pulled away. “But they’re looking to restructure a bit heading into next season, and they want a ‘solid, leading number eight’”. Her smile just grew wider, and he was grateful for the night sky for hiding his small blush.

“Lewie, this is fucking great news! You deserve all of this,” she told him, the moonlight giving way to the sincerity in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It’s Middlesbrough, babes, not exactly a stone’s throw away from London. And I knew if I told you, you’d want me to take it. But you have your whole life here…your family, business, friends…I can’t let you move away from all that. And I’m not going anywhere without you.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s why winning the match today was so important. We get promoted and I get to stay in London to keep building this life with you. Your dreams are here, and I’m not taking that away from you just so we can go chase mine. I just want you to be happy.”

She smiled sweetly at him, cupping his face in her hands. “Lewie Griffin, you are my dream. I can run a gym anywhere. I’ll arrange visits with friends and family, and we can spend your offseasons here during the summers. But there is absolutely no fucking way you’re saying no to this. I am happy wherever you are. London is not my home, you are. My dream is to wear your kit number to all of your matches until you’re a cranky, forty-year-old captain who can’t bring himself to quit. And when they finally make you, we can retire to our house on the beach with our five-plus dogs.”

He smiled at her sheepishly, leaning into her touch. “Babes, I feel like it’s easy to say that, but I’m gonna be pulling you out of London into a place where you don’t know anyone, away from your gym, not to mention how cold it gets there.” He looked sadly at her, his mind replaying all of the plans they had made when they thought he’d stay in London for a while longer. “I don’t want my job to dictate where you live, it’s not fair.”

“Lewie,” she sighed softly, still smiling at him. “You worry about me too much.” She softly caressed his cheek with her thumb. “I don’t care where I live, as long as you’re with me. I can handle the cold, I can make friends with the other WAGs, and Middlesbrough has miles of gorgeous coastline. Maybe we can invest in that house on the beach before we’re old and grey.”

He took her hands and held them to his forehead, shaking his head. “Why you gotta make everything sound so perfect and convincing?” She giggled. “Nah, I’m serious,” he laughed. “I’ve been really struggling with this, y’know.”

“You don’t have to hold this stuff in, babes, I promise it’s always scarier in your head,” she assured him, looking into his soft eyes. “It’s you and me forever, we’re a team of two.” She winked at him before adjusting herself. “Now tell me about this plan you had, because it seemed pretty fucking important, and Amelia was being weird as today.”

He contemplated for a moment, wondering if he should ask her now. He’s known he wanted to marry her as soon as she stepped out of the villa on the first day, so he really wasn’t sure what he was waiting for after two years. He just knew it had to be perfect - that’s what she deserved from him, always. And a parking lot was far from it.

He glanced at the backseat quickly, making sure his duffle bag was still in the car, where he had safely kept the ring for eight months now. The pitch would be locked up now, but his manager had given him a spare set of keys after he found him waiting outside at 4 am one day to start training early. Lewie decided then that he would still go through with his plan that night, but not in the parking lot of a pub called The Cow.

His parents would be here all weekend, they could still celebrate tomorrow.

“Buckle up,” he just told her, smiling cheekily.

“Lewie Griffin,” she mused, doing as she was told. “Full of surprises today.”

#litg #litg lewie #litg s6 #love island the game #help I wrote this for three days and I kinda hate it now #but alas

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lividria · 3 months

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Funny Story: The Thousand-Year Door (Part 2)

Yea, remember the time I made a post about how everyone associates me with this game's Vivian because that's also my name, I'm also trans and my OC persona character looks similar? I have now beaten TTYD and I already wasn't opposed because I liked the character but I used Vivian for literally as much time as possible once I got her so uh

Here's some of the highlights of my playthrough, spoilers obviously

In the chapter 8 Shadow Sirens rematch (I know they're the Three Shadows now but I'm used to the old name, fight me), I had Goombella out to get tattles, tried to switch over to Vivian, and the FUCKING GAME CRASHED? Which I interpreted as Beldam getting so pissed it broke the space-time continuum, thankfully I saved right before and Vivian later dealt the final blow to Beldam to win the fight when I tried again

Shadow Queen kicked my FUCKING ASS HOLY SHIT, it took me 3 tries, I feel like if I were to rematch Prince Mush they would be so much easier than SQ it wouldn't even be funny AND THEY'RE A SUPERBOSS, I WIPED THE FLOOR WITH JUST ABOUT EVERY PRE-CHAPTER 8 BOSS BUT THEN THE FINAL BOSS WRECKED MY ASS LIKE SHE WAS TACO BELL

One of my friends hyped up Bonetail as being even harder when I immediately went to do the Pit after the credits, I JUST beat them without using any items (Though I did eat a couple in the earlier levels of the Pit) and it was so much less intense than what I expected, especially because I got really lucky with bingos and Pretty Lucky (badge) so I was never in any danger

Yes I know about Whacka, yes I know what I have to do to fight them, yes I'm gonna try them, but that's for tomorrow

I was actually trying to get 100% tattles this playthrough but only realized far too late I didn't get the tattles for the scripted Shwwonk Fortress encounters (Not the Golden Fuzzy, though, I got them & their Fuzzy horde) and I don't know if those guys respawn or are anywhere else so uh fucking whoops

I laughed my ass off when the Atomic Boo had it's own battle theme, that was the most unnecessary thing ever

Chapter 3 made me absolutely lose my shit because all I did was do all the Trouble Center side quests before that and I was somehow hilariously overpowered (I actually got a Power Plus from was their name Dazzle or Sparkle? So that's probably why) I destroyed everything and everyone, I knew about the poisoned cake but I didn't know leaving it killed that poor Koopa, I was completely floored by Bowser not having his boss theme (It's used in the Chapter 8 fight don't worry), and laughed for like a half hour straight at Grubba actually just dying at the end of the chapter after confessing to murder, can you actually find him anywhere after that because I never saw him ever again and Jolene said he was out of the picture so I choose to interpret that as Mario just straight up killing the guy

I fucking hate Rawk Hawk, I rematched him a couple times, all of them unintentionally besides for one time I was like 2 points off a level up, he goes down so fast it's so cathartic, I got an e-mail at some point from him that looked like he was saying he's a better fighter now, I'm gonna go beat his ass right now to prove he ain't

I somehow got Vivian into that bucket in the hidden part of Rogueport Harbor, she teleported out before I could screenshot it, I open Tumblr and first thing I see is that one post that's art of bucket Vivian, reality is taunting me I swear

For the several years on Discord I've always made it a thing to exaggerate some personality traits whenever it'd lead to funny jokes, so I have this entire gag persona I'll put on sometimes where I'll act like a narcissistic asshole out of nowhere (which is pretty easy because I'm incredibly easy to anger and thus act like a jerk more than I should), and it's some of the same people I do that with that compare me to TTYD Vivian sometimes, so imagine my reaction when I see the dialogue implying Vivian has a crush on Mario when I always switch out the player character with myself in my head, Vivian has a crush on essentially herself

I never used Zess T. once throughout my entire playthrough so imagine my horror when I check the requirements for 100%ing the game and seeing the recipes are there in the Journal menu, yea fuck no lol, I don't even know if I'll get all the Star Pieces & Shine Sprites but I am definitely not catching up

So uh yeah really good game

#paper mario #paper mario ttyd #paper mario the thousand year door #ttyd #ttyd spoilers #spoilers #paper mario spoilers #i'm not doing every combination

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fourraccoonsinacoat · 1 year

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Head Full of Ghosts

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge, as well as the friendships and relationships she has with her companions. Plus, everyone gives shit to Gale about his cooking. Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Pining, Humor, Violence, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Developing Romance, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature (Will eventually be Explicit, just not there yet.) Current Chapter Count: 3/? Read on AO3 (Will post chapters to Tumblr, as well.) Current Word Count: 13,050

Author Notes: Hello, Tumblr! Longtime lurker, first time poster. BG3 has reignited my love for writing fanfic - I think it's legit been over seven years since I've written a fic. The dry spell has now been broken. BG3 has grabbed me by the throat and pulled me back in and damn, if I'm not enjoying the hell out of it. I've got an ongoing fic on AO3, so I figured why not officially join Tumblr and dive headfirst into the fandom? Should anyone read my silly fic, I dearly hope you enjoy it. All these characters currently live in my head rent free.

Chapter 1: Misfits

The toll house burned as Karlach whooped, exacting rage and fury on everything within the abandoned building. Her glee might have been infectious if it hadn’t been so damn dangerous.

Luckily, Eli and her merry band of misfits had gotten clear of the structure before the worst of the fires caught. They now stood in the middle of the dirt cart path that led to the toll house entryway, watching the scene unfold in front of them with the same morbid curiosity with which townsfolk might watch a public hanging.

Wyll rubbed the back of his neck, cringing slightly as the loud and unmistakable crash of something glass-made reverberated from within the inferno.

“Maybe…” he started hesitantly, then cleared his throat. “Maybe someone should stop her?”

Honestly, Wyll was too pure for their group of maladjusted headcases. Between being forcibly inducted as Emerald Grove’s newest mediator, and trying to figure out just what in the nine hells was going on with the illithid tadpoles in their brains, Eli had not had much time to get to know Wyll. Like her, he was a warlock, though he was being rather cagey about who or what his patron was. She guessed it had something to do with his contract, and it wasn’t as if she had much room to judge.

Eli couldn’t even remember who the hell her patron was. That knowledge was a gaping black hole in her ruptured memory. Sometimes, late at night, in the stifling silence when the chaos of the day had finally died down, she’d try to recall…anything. Anything about her past life beyond the images of blood, death and rot that swirled in her mind. She was never successful, and her attempts usually ended in a roiling headache. The holes in her brain were deep, dark and remained unknown.

“These days I’m trying to avoid situations that end with me burnt to ash,” Astarion’s snark brought Eli back to the here and now. “But if you’re confident in your ability to be fire retardant, then by all means,” he finished the thought by motioning towards the building with a bit of a flourish.

The building was now practically engulfed in flames so bright that it was difficult to look at. She was pretty sure she could hear the roof caving in. Eli pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes, the light and sound of it all was causing her already throbbing headache to grow and fester behind her eyes.

“Stop trying to suck the joy out of things, Wyll,” Eli said, with a bit more bite than she had intended.

She couldn’t see it, but she heard the eye roll in his response. “Fine. Far be it from me to deny someone their little moments of destructive bliss.”

Eli huffed in response and felt a presence move up next to her.

“Another headache?” Shadowheart’s voice wasn’t quite concerned, but it did have a hint of guarded interest, and for Shadowheart that was just as good.

“Think I’m going on day three now,” Eli responded with a groan. She let her hand drop from her face and opened her eyes, blinking back against the influx of light.

No one spoke it out loud, but they all knew the significance of that statement. Three days ago, Eli had woke in the middle of the night to discover Alfira, a kind and gentle tiefling bard, brutalized and dead…by Eli’s own hands. The shame, guilt and confusion from that night was still a gaping and painful wound within. Alfira was a constant and haunting presence, a reminder that her mind and body were not her own. She could recall flashes of memory from that night, and she desperately wished that was not the case.

The fear in Alfira’s eyes was emblazoned upon her brain and it followed her into her dreams. She was not sleeping well, if at all. And the terror that she would once again wake up to find she’d torn open another of her companions, one of her friends…it was enough to fill her nights with nauseating dread.

“Maybe Gale can cook up a sleeping potion for you when we get back to camp,” Shadowheart suggested with more softness in her voice than Eli was used to. “I’m sure your penchant for rummaging through our wares until all hours of the morning isn’t helping things,” she chided a bit more coolly.

Eli gave her a non-committal half smile. She’d taken to perusing their camp’s growing hoard of books during her sleepless nights. Reading kept her mind busy, and off of other darker thoughts that stalked her steps.

“Given the unholy smells being extruded by Gale’s cookpot the other night, I’m not sure I’d trust him to brew a sleeping potion someone is expected to wake up from,” Astarion said cheerily, stepping up to Eli’s other side opposite Shadowheart. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little extracurricular nighttime activity.”

The suggestive smirk he gave Eli caused the pit of her stomach to tighten.

“Yes, because reading is so titillating,” she deadpanned back at him. Astarion was a shameless flirt, and Eli wasn’t in a mood to deal with him while her head was splitting open from the inside out.

Astarion, however, was not dissuaded.

“Darling, it’s not my fault if you choose a boring activity.” He emphasized the word ‘boring’ and Eli knew exactly where this was going before they even got there.

He leaned in closer and she caught the faint scent of spice and rosemary that always lingered in the space where he’d been. Nine hells, why did she know that?

“You know I’m only a few tents away if you ever want to try a more stimulating activity,” he purred. A small shiver ran up her spine as she felt the breath from his words against her neck.

A derisive snort came from Eli’s other side. “Really, Astarion, were you never taught not to play with your food?” Shadowheart said with the hint of a smirk, which turned into a full grin when Eli shot her a dark glare.

Eli suddenly felt very aware of a certain spot on her neck as she looked back to Astarion, whose red eyes had been lingering there before they flicked back up to her face. She met his gaze and thought she saw something hungry flash across his expression before he looked to Shadowheart.

“Call it an appetizer,” Astarion replied in that smooth and sultry voice that danced so effortlessly from his lips. “Something to get the blood pumping before the main course.”

Eli was starting to feel something akin to what a rabbit may feel when being circled by wolves. Astarion had inched closer to her as he spoke and teased, pushing into her personal space with bravado and squaring up to her like an animal on the prowl. Eli had experienced this behavior from him before, and she hated it. Not because of any issues with personal boundaries - she didn’t even know if she had issues with personal boundaries, considering how full of holes her memory was. No, she hated it because of how her body responded. And she doubted it was the sort of response Astarion was looking for.

All of his bravado, his confidence, how sure of himself he seemed when he pressed near to her, playing his games. It triggered an anger in her she didn’t recognize. A cruel and dominating rage that wanted nothing more than to grab him by the throat and force him to his knees, demanding respect. She was no rabbit fearful of wolves, no plaything for him to tease. She’d flay him sternum to navel for his insolence.

“Stop,” Eli muttered, moreso to herself than to Astarion.

Her head was pounding as she tried to shove those unwanted and vicious thoughts back down into the unknown void of herself. She took a tentative step backwards and nearly collided with Shadowheart, who managed to step quickly out of the way. Eli felt a hand on her shoulder and reflexively flinched away, internally trying to wrest herself from the cloying vile madness that was building in her brain.

“Sorry,” Eli heard Shadowheart say.

Glancing to Shadowheart, Eli saw she had her hands raised in a conciliatory gesture. Likely, Shadowheart had reached out to try and steady Eli. The problem was, Eli didn’t trust herself when her mind went red and hazy.

She didn’t want anyone touching her in those moments. She didn’t want anyone ending up like Alfira…

“That’s enough of that,” Wyll’s strong voice held a very clear note of annoyance in it. “Leave her be and let’s get back to camp. Lest we get lost out here after the sun goes down.”

Eli appreciated the sentiment, but she almost wished Wyll had stayed silent.

“Ah, the dashing Blade of Frontiers here to save the pretty damsel from the dangerous vampire,” Astarion said, with more than a hint of contempt to his words.

Astarion and Wyll did not play nice. They reminded Eli of two dogs posturing and vying for control when they were near one another. And, unfortunately, everyone else got pissed on in the process.

Astarion continued to bait the hook, voice sickly suggestive. “Hoping she’ll offer you a place to sheath your blade tonight if you play hero?”

Eli wheeled on Astarion with a glare that only succeeded in making the elf smile wider. For all of his pompous confidence, Eli did take note of the fact that Astarion had backed off from her. At least in the physical sense. He seemed more than happy to continue his verbal assault.

“You vulgar bastard!” Wyll barked back, angrily stepping towards Astarion who was grinning like a feral cat. Wyll was taking the bait.

“Lolth’s rotten nickers!” Eli exclaimed, exasperated and over all of this. “If the two of you want to have it out, fine! Just know I’m not asking Withers to bring either of you miserable assholes back if one of you kills the other!”

The blood in her head was pounding again, pulsating painfully behind her eyes. Eli threw up her hands and turned away from the squabbling men, only to see that tiefling barbarian, Karlach, watching all of them with a grin.

“You lot seem fun as hell!” she proclaimed with a laugh as the toll house continued to blaze like an inferno behind her. “Still cool if I tag along?”

“Yeah, sure,” Eli responded. “We all seem to be in the same shithole of a boat, so if you want to grab a paddle I’m not stopping you.”

Eli smirked and Karlach’s face lit up with excitement. “That’s the spirit!”

The next few moments were a blur. Moments in which Eli felt very much like a passenger in her own body. Astarion wasn’t letting up, and from behind her Eli heard his goading voice as he continued to taunt Wyll.

“You know, Wyll, if you’re ever curious about what our dear, sweet Eli tastes like, all you have to do is ask,” Astarion’s sly words were dripping with inuendo.

Eli snapped.

She rounded on Astarion like a displacer beast loosed from hell, stepping into his personal space just as he had done to her earlier. Eli, however, was not playing games. Her head felt like it was exploding from the inside and her vision was beginning to swim. She needed to get out of here. She needed to leave before she lost control. She needed to put this flippant, disrespectful maggot in his place.

“Would you FUCK OFF with your self-aggrandizing bullshit!” she roared.

Eli was up in Astarion’s face now, all venom and rage as she tried to maintain enough control to keep herself from driving a dagger through his eye like the monster inside of her was demanding.

“I’ve let you feed on me ONE time, and that has been the extent of any nightly activities between us,” she growled, locking eyes with the vampire spawn.

Astarion was a few inches taller than her, but in this moment it didn’t matter. They had all seen Eli fight. They’d witnessed the absolute carnage and power that she was capable of, and while most of that ability came from whatever deal she’d made with her patron, they had all sensed something else beyond her skill as a warlock. Something foul and brutal and violent that she seemed desperate to keep restrained.

That thing was leaking out now. Pressing at the barricades in her mind wrestling to break free. It wanted blood and gore and anguish. It wanted out.

“So, keep your pathetic attention-whoring charade in check or I’m going to lock you in a coffin and burry you so fucking deep even the worms won’t be able to find you!” Eli snarled, eyes glittering with a mania that indicated she was far from joking.

Eli didn’t know the chord she’d struck in Astarion – she didn’t even know if he had chords to be struck. She didn’t know how her words wrenched unbidden memories to the surface of his mind, like puss oozing from an infected wound. She didn’t know the torments inflicted upon him. Didn’t know that her words caused his chest to tighten with anxiety as unwanted recollections flashed in his mind. Days, months, years trapped in lonely confinement at the whim of his abuser. Locked away and starved because he said something displeasing or because he begged to be spared the agony of having his scars cut open once again because his master was bored and wanted to play.

Astarion had gone very still in the face of Eli’s wrath. And as the haze of anger in her mind dissipated and the realization of what she’d just said crashed down upon her, her eyes went wide and she took a quick step back. Her head was a mess and she felt like she was coming up out of a dream and seizing control of herself once more.

Shadowheart, Wyll and Karlach stood by, staring with a mix of shock and morbid curiosity. They were not going to get involved, but they damn sure were going to watch this disaster play out.

“I…uh…” Eli stuttered as she pulled herself back from the brink.

Her movements felt lethargic and wrong, as if she were a step removed from the actions her body was taking. But she kept hold of her mental steering wheel and willed herself to maintain control.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Astarion,” she lifted her gaze, wanting to meet his eyes so she could explain and apologize again.

But Astarion wasn’t looking at her. At least, not at her face. His eyes were fixated on the collar of the burgundy undershirt she wore below her chest armor. His expression fluctuated somewhere between grim detachment and smoldering hatred, crimson eyes glassy and distant.

Eli felt an unnerving sensation of being looked through.

“Astarion?” she questioned, voice softer and tinged with an edge of worry.

She took a tentative step forward and raised a hand towards him. Had he been struck with an incantation? A curse? Maybe Shadowheart or Wyll had cast something as a means of intervention?

Eli was about to turn and ask them when Astarion flinched back from her outstretched hand as if she’d struck him. His eyes snapped to hers and burned with a hostility she’d never seen from him, not even during the famously vehement rows he and Gale would get into over Gale’s cooking (the arguments usually ended with Gale shouting, “You aren’t even going to eat any of it, anyway!” and storming off in a dither).

“Don’t,” Astarion snarled through clenched teeth and a tight jaw. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Icy loathing dripped off his every word and Eli suddenly recognized the defensive posture he’d put himself in, leaning back and away from her with hands ready to go for a weapon or even swing at her should she move closer. He reminded her of an animal trapped in a corner, baring its fangs at something…

At something dangerous. At something intent on hurting them.

Shit. Had her outburst really been that bad? Had he really thought she was going to attack him?

A pang stabbed through her stomach as she realized…of course he had. Because of what she’d done to Alfira. She’d already proven she was capable of brutalizing the people around her, no matter how innocent they were. They thought she was dangerous. Astarion, a godsdamn vampire who’d crept up on her in the middle of the night, thought she was dangerous.

She needed to get herself under control. This wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle. At least not for the people around her…

“Astarion, I’m really fucking sorry,” she backed away from him, giving him space and bringing her hands back to her sides. “I’m not even entirely sure what happened. Things got…hazy. I’m really sorry.”

It was a piss poor excuse, and an even worse apology. She knew. And it seemed he agreed.

“You can choke on your apology,” Astarion snapped as he shoved past her. “If the tadpole turns you tonight, it wouldn’t be too soon.”

The sheer venom of his words stung as painfully as if he’d stabbed her right there on the spot. She opened her mouth to reply, but could think of nothing worthwhile to say. So she snapped it closed and watched him walk off down the path that led back to camp.

Well, some fantastic leader she was turning out to be. She already didn’t understand why anyone thought she, with her magnitude of memory loss and murder happy tendencies, was the ideal candidate for a position of authority. She was awful at this shit!

Eli had spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was. In all that self-reflection, she’d concluded there were two things she was really good at. Killing people and drinking.

Fuck, what she wouldn’t give to be doing either one of those things right now instead of this.

She turned a miserable expression on her remaining companions. “Is it too late to go back to the mind flayer ship and just surrender?”

Wyll laughed and sided up to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder and trying to be reassuring.

“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” he said. Then, with a somewhat darker smirk, “And if he doesn’t, we’ll just stake him. Luckily for us, our benevolent illithid captors saw fit to crash us in the middle of a forest. Trees everywhere.”

Wyll grinned while Eli just gave him a deadpan stare. He wasn’t helping. Maybe he wasn’t too pure for their little group, after all. Maybe he was just as much of a dumbass as the rest of them.

Eli looked to Shadowheart, who simply rolled her eyes before glancing after Astarion as he continued to walk further and further from the party.

“I bet he just needs some time to cool down,” Shadowheart mused. “Men can be irrationally dramatic when they put their minds to it.”

The grin on Wyll’s face fell as Shadowheart started to follow Astarion down the path. Eli trailed after her, glancing to Karlach in the hopes of making some sort of conversation to distract herself from all the pain and noise in her head.

“I’m just happy to be here,” Karlach laughed.

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smaller-comfort · 1 month

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In conclusion:

On the one hand, I do have a lot to say about this story. On the other, it's been a weird few weeks and I probably need to take a break from the internet for a while, in general. (Am I going to? Probably not.)

All things considered, my notes are a lot less hysterical than I was expecting. Here we go!

The expanding text was a last minute addition, but I'm glad people had fun with it. I certainly had fun with it. The "Pause" at the top of chapter 6 probably makes me laugh the most, but the ones in chapters 3 and 4 were what made me stick the cuts in there to begin with.

I really wasn't expecting to actually finish and/or post this one any time soon (or ever???) but, like I said- a weird few weeks. I don't usually hyperfocus on a single project like this, and lately my brain feels like it's going to implode. Anyway!

Who is the second person narrator in the expanding text? I leave that as an exercise for the reader.

Death of the author and all that, but here's some of the background stuff that probably ought to be in the story but isn't:

It's really only a few months between Dreaming Still and Save Scumming; Aephorul wasn't actually lying about the spell being a rush job, and Resh'an absolutely did not do his due diligence before he opened that vial.

They're idiots! That's it, that's the real theme; they make each other stupid, and they mirror each other's poor decision making constantly.

(I'm not trying to be like...a subtle writer. I have these themes and ideas nailed to a two-by-four. I am going to beat someone to death with them. At least, that's how it feels to me, but I realize that may not necessarily translate as well as I think it does.)

After not speaking to each other for a thousand years and then getting thrown back together- however briefly- during the events of the game and Loser Takes All, they're both desperate for any excuse to see each other again. They just have to make things complicated for themselves.

Aephorul really could have just sent a letter, like "hey wanna grab coffee somewhere neutral sometime and ~not argue~ for a little while less-than-three winky face winky face?" (He dictates.) And Resh'an would've replied back, "I don't drink coffee anymore" along with a location and time. (He does still drink coffee; Aephorul swings by Sea of Starbucks and gets him his favorite latte.)

Resh'an intended the time loop to be insurance, in case something did go wrong. Whoops. He can't help it, but he's really only playing twelve dimensional chess with himself. Aephorul, meanwhile, is playing poker. I could torture this metaphor a little more, if you want.

Pure, organic, unfounded headcanon territory! Aephorul can't manipulate time the way Resh'an can- but he does know more about time magic and alchemy than anyone else in the universe except Resh'an. When he's paying attention, he's able to see what Resh'an is doing, and he's on hyper alert after his embarrassing lapse in Dreaming Still.

He doesn't have a clear sense of the events of those other loops, but he does get a pretty clear idea of the emotions he's experiencing. Anger tends to compound itself.

Hokay so. In the game, Resh'an splits himself into 3 "clones" during Garl's borrowed time. Those aren't empty puppets; my theory is he made a time loop, iterated himself, and then reintegrated those loops into the main timeline. That's sort of what happened here. The time loops are separate and concurrent, so my cutesy framing device is slightly misleading; technically no one is going back to restart the loop.

Okay, technically some of them do. There were probably more iterations than just the three in the story. They're not really important, except one of them is going to be a standalone story at some point (no happy ending).

It's not linear. Don't worry about it.

There are some fucked up implications here! This is not Resh'an's first rodeo/orgy/extremely ill-advised gangbang. It's also not the first time Aephorul has sexually assaulted him. It might be the first time those things happen in conjunction with each other, but Resh'an is being fairly literal when he says none of this is new to him.

Does this even rate in the top 10 of horrific things Aephorul has done to Resh'an? It might be like...8th or 9th place. Definitely not in the top 5, in Resh'an's opinion. (He and Aephorul have very different opinions about this.)

The fact that he and Resh'an now have wildly different ideas of what constitutes "fun" is also difficult for him. He'll get there eventually. Maybe.

Aephorul really wants to pretend things between them haven't changed; before they began fighting, they would've gotten up to all kinds of weird and horrifying shit with each other, because it was fun and they were bored. (What's the point of being immortal if you can't use it to spend a few centuries inventing bizarre recreational drugs and weird sex acts? No point at all.) He's not used to asking for permission when he could always just take it for granted that Resh'an would ultimately enjoy whatever he had planned. The fact that Resh'an no longer appreciates his fun little surprises is difficult for him to deal with.

One thing I really hope comes through is the way Aephorul's actions are him being extremely reactive to Resh'an's level of vulnerability. He can be gentle when Resh'an is willing to show that he's in pain. If Resh'an had begged him not to go through with it, chapter 3 wouldn't have happened; if chapter 3 didn't happen, then chapter 4 couldn't happen. It takes Resh'an being completely broken for Aephorul to be willing to show his face. Even then, he can't help responding to Resh'an's initial anger like a complete fucking asshole, before his 'wait, shit, I fucked up' instincts kick in.

It doesn't matter in any meaningful sense- what Aephorul does is inexcusable on every level- but he does erase the memories of everyone who participated in the gang rape, and most of the audience was illusionary. There's a few plot hooks in there that I may or may not pick up in a future story.

But really, I'm done with plot for a while. I think most of what's going to follow this will just be more snarsty porn. Enthusiastically consensual snarsty porn, but snarsty porn all the same.

(Since I'm apparently not done experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known, I do intend to finish the oviposition story. Someday. Probably.)

I feel like I can summarize a lot of their relationship at this point like this:

Resh'an, face completely neutral and voice pleasant: Say one more word and I am going to mcfucking lose it.

Aephorul: one more word

Resh'an: *mcfucking loses it*

Aephorul: *shocked Pikachu face*

I listened to Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence and the Machine so many times while editing this that I think I'm now stuck with that as my Resh'an song. Embarrassing.

(Aephorul's song is, unfortunately, still Where's the Girl from The Scarlet Pimpernel.) ("We were cut from the same surly star" come on, how can I not.) (...okay also Bad Touch by The Bloodhound Gang.)

Resh'an literally broke the space-time continuum because he couldn't bring himself to kill Aephorul. This story was, in part, me wanting to work through why. I have apparently decided that it's because they're in a horrifically toxic codependent relationship that most likely will end with them destroying the universe and each other.

...okay, and honestly, when I wrote the end of Dreaming Still I was kind of like "shit, I can't just write the same scenario as Loser Takes All again." I mean. I could. But I had to do something a little different. Then it got out of hand, as things so often tend to.

This is the longest thing I've ever finished! I am actually quite proud of it! It is probably going to be at least a month before I can stand to look at it again. *sighs, and walks into the lake*

#my fic #philosopher's bone(r)#literacy was a mistake #it's fine i'm fine i'm not *actually* going to walk into the woods and never return #i'm just crashing harder than usual after finishing something

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eddiemunsonssparklyeyes · 2 years

Text

I'm writing a longer fanfiction and hit a bout of writers block, so I decided to take a break and write something else. I've seen a lot of perv!Eddie fics, but not a whole lot of perv!reader. I've never written smut before, so I decided to give it a go. I am open to (begging for) any feedback. Also, I'm on mobile and can't figure out how to insert a break, so this is just a really long post. Whoops.

Summary: You catch your best friend Eddie in a compromising position and decide to have a little fun with it.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, masturbation (m and f), reader watches Eddie without his knowledge, penetration (p in v), there are probably a couple I'm forgetting, but basically just smut

Word count: 2.1k

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You didn't mean for it to happen. Eddie had invited you over to watch a movie, and you were bored at home, so you decided to show up a little early. It all started innocently, you swear. You got to his trailer and knocked on the door. There was no response, which was odd since his van was in the driveway. You walked around the side to his bedroom window to see if he was in there, and the sight before you did away with any innocence you might have previously claimed. There was Eddie, sprawled out on his mattress, eyes closed, with his hand around his cock, pumping, his fist up and down. You froze. You should look away. You should turn around and go home. That's not what you did. Instead, you looked around for any potential witnesses to your perverted indulgence. When you didn't see anyone, you inched closer to the window, eyes wide in awe. You could hear his moans of pleasure and felt a knot building in your core. You clenched your thighs together and began grinding against the seam of your jeans as your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong. This was so wrong. But that made it so much better.

"Y/N." Eddie let out a breathy moan and your eyes snapped open.

He must have seen you. But, no. His eyes were still closed, and his hands were still stroking that pretty cock, all the while he was moaning your name. You almost came right then and there. It was tempting to stay there watching until he finished. You imagined the thick spurts of white, hot cum that would shoot from his tip and cover his abdomen in a sticky glaze. Your mouth watered thinking about how sweet it would taste to lick it off of him. You had to get out of here.

You rushed home, and by the time you made it, it was the time you and Eddie had originally agreed on meeting. Not wanting him to worry, you called him.

"Hello?" His voice was slightly husky and you bit your lip trying to clear the dirty thoughts from your head.

"Hey, it's me. Something came up and I'm going to be a little late. Is that okay?" Your voice was shaky. You hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine. I'm just running a little behind. I can be there in an hour?"

"Okay. Sounds good. I'll see you then."

You placed the phone back on the receiver and rushed off to your bedroom. You rifled through the drawers of your nightstand looking for your trusty vibrator. You stripped from the waist down and pressed the power button. The vibrator whirred to life as you laid back on the bed and pressed it to your throbbing clit, moving it in steady circles. The pleasure was instantaneous. Your brain replayed the scene of Eddie stroking himself and moaning your name. You trailed a hand up your body and began kneading your breast, imagining it was Eddie's hand that was pinching your nipples. Your hips bucked up into the vibrator and you let out a stream of high-pitched, whiny moans.You came harder and faster than you ever had, screaming Eddie's name. You clicked the vibrator off and lay there drawing shallow, ragged breaths as you came down from your high.

Clarity began to set in and the realization of what you had just done struck you. You had just spied on your best friend masturbating, and then ran off to masturbate to the thought of him masturbating to the thought of you. How were you supposed to face him after that? You chewed your lip pensively and decided the answer was: in a much sluttier outfit than you had been wearing.

You rummaged through the closet looking for the perfect outfit. You settled on a red lace top with an open back and just enough cleavage to garner attention, but not so much as to be obvious. You paired this with a black, leather miniskirt that clung to your curves and a pair of heels that accentuated those curves perfectly. You were going to have fun with this.

When you got back to Eddie's house and knocked on the door, he was not prepared for the sight before him.

"Hey-- whoa. You look..." He trailed off as his eyes wandered over body, practically drooling.

You batted your eyelashes innocently, "What?"

"What did you have to go do that involved you wearing something like that?" He asked and stepped aside so you could enter.

"You don't like my outfit?" You pouted.

"No, it's not that. It's just very... you know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter."

You shrugged, "You ready to watch the movie?"

You couldn't remember what the movie was or any details about it because you were too busy trying to rile Eddie up. It started with you kicking your heels off and snuggling up next to him on the couch. He was becoming visibly tense, and when you gently rested a hand on his knee, he stood up abruptly.

"I'll be right back." He said and walked off. He returned with a joint and sat back down next to you taking a slow, shaky drag. You had an idea. You made a dramatic show of stretching across him and plucking the joint from his hand. Taking your own drag, you ventured a glance at him. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed as he watched you intently. You slowly blew the smoke out and asked,

"You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head and swallowed hard. This was all going according to plan. The movie finished with a few more "accidental" grazes and with the both of you getting higher by the second. When it was over Eddie looked at you and licked his lips pensively.

You tilted your head, "What's up?"

"That's what I was going to ask you, actually."

"What do you mean?" You feigned innocence, and fought to hold back your smirk.

"Well, first, you show up an hour late. Which is no big deal, except you're never late. Then, when you get here, you're wearing this--," He gestured toward you, "And you act like that's a perfectly normal outfit, and not at all distracting. And then you were all over me during the movie. What's going on? Is this some kind of joke?" There were tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He really thought you were just being mean.

Your heart hurt for just a second at his pain, but you quickly slipped back in to your confidence. Placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing gently you admitted,

"I have a confession to make."

Eddie raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward you, gesturing for you to continue.

"I wasn't late today."

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I was actually here early."

He still didn't understand, so you continued.

"I got here and knocked on the door, but no one answered. So, I went around to your bedroom window to see if you were in there, and..." You trailed off waiting for him to connect the dots.

His eyes grew wide and his face was glowing red, "Oh! Oh my God! You saw me... oh my god! So what? You saw me jerking off and left?"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean "not exactly?" Eddie's voice was raised, but he wasn't angry so much as embarrassed.

This was the part you were worried about. Once you told him he might get mad, but you had a gut feeling that he wouldn't.

"I watched you."

His mouth dropped open but he didn't say anything.

"And..." You took a deep breath. This was it, "I thought you looked so fucking sexy, I just had to get a closer look. And then I heard you moan my name. That's when I left." You paused to gauge his reaction. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. You continued, "When I got home I called you. I had my hand in my panties the whole time, listening to your voice. Knowing what you had just been doing. I went to my bedroom and I used my vibrator and I came so hard, and I screamed your name."

"Holy shit." Eddie whispered.

"Are you mad?"

He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward him, placing your palm on the throbbing bulge in his jeans.

"Do I feel mad?"

You stepped closer to him and looked up.

"Wanna have some fun, pretty boy?"

In a flash, Eddie picked you up and shoved you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as his lips met yours in a desperate, messy clash. He grinded into you and you threw your head back with a pleasure moan. Eddie took the opportunity to move his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and biting.

"Bed...room..." You sighed breathlessly.

He carried you down the hallway to his room and threw you down on the bed and pulled his shirt off. He stood over you for a moment before asking,

"How far do you want to take this?"

"All the way." You assured him.

Something changed in his expression. There was a new kind of fire in his eyes you'd never seen before.

"Take your clothes off." He ordered.

You obeyed with out question, sitting up on your knees and unzipping your skirt. You pulled your shirt off over your head and shimmied your skirt off over your hips, leaving you in nothing but your matching, lacy, black bra and panties.

"Jesus." Eddie breathed.

You stood up from the bed and reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, maintaining eye contact with Eddie the whole time. It fell to the floor and he let out a guttural growl as he shamelessly palmed himself through his jeans. You hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and discarded them next to your bra, exposing your dripping cunt to Eddie who eyed it hungrily. He approached you quickly and ran a finger through your slick folds.

"This all for me?" He teased.

"All for you." You confirmed in a breathy whisper.

He began rubbing circles on your clit and leaned close to your ear, "You're so fucking beautiful. You know that? Fucking perfect."

You whimpered in response. You had come here tonight thinking you had the upper hand, but Eddie had taken control. He continued whispering in your ear.

"I can't tell you how long I've fantasized about this. About you." He plunged a finger into your entrance and you gasped.

"Are you gonna make my dreams come true?" He asked.

"I'm gonna be even better." You promised.

He pushed you back on to the bed and began taking his pants off.

"You're a fucking perv. Watching me jack off. Little slut." He pulled down his pants and boxers and his rock hard cock sprung free, "You're gonna have to make it up to me." He crawled over top of you and lined his cock up with your entrance. He gave you a look that asked 'Is this still okay?' And you nodded.

Slowly, he pushed into you, stretching you out. He gave you a few seconds to adjust, and then began thrusting in and out of you. After a few thrusts he began picking up the pace. You grasped at his hair and clawed at his back, looking for anything to ground you. He was filling you up perfectly and each stroke was bringing you closer to your climax at a speed you would have previously said was impossible.

"Fuck, Eddie! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cried as you unraveled into an incoherent, babbling mess.

Eddie grunted and began thrusting harder, "Is the little slut gonna cum for me?"

"Oh, God! Fuck, fuck! Yes! Eddie! I'm cumming!" Your orgasm ripped through you and before you had time to process, Eddie had pulled out of you and was pumping his cock with his fist.

"Where'd you want it?" He asked.

You wordlessly opened your mouth.

"Jesus fuck. You're gonna be the death of me." He moaned as he crawled up your chest and positioned himself over your mouth.

Within a few strokes he was releasing his load onto your tongue. You relished in the taste as you swallowed it down. Eddie collapsed on the bed next to you.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, rolling on his side to face you.

You followed suit and giggled, "From your wet dreams?"

"No, sweetheart, you were right." He pulled you close to him, "That was better than any wet dream."

#perv!eddie #perv!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfiction #smut

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