#it was supposed to be short but oh well ive never made anything short a day in my life

[amoristt]

tempt you (evocatio)

「 ✦ seong gi-hun / reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // genderless reader, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn but in a oneshot way, post games gi-hun, reader wants to take him away from all this, songfic

a/n: this song has been on LOOP since i started writing this omg. i love nbt so much and i loved writing this!!!! word count: 6k || original request (x)

・❥・The man that had showed up at your doorstep that frigid, stormy night was not the same man you'd once known. Shared the same face, same hair, same body- albeit soaked to the bone with the downpour. But there were more differences beyond his hair dropping streams down his face and the fading wounds. There was this... sense of him. A somber, wounded aura that carried an eternal frown and dark eye circles. He looked lost, like a shell of himself, gutted from the inside out.

Six months had done a terrible, terrible number on him. Six months had chewed him up to grueling bits and spat him out at your doorstep this broken, mangled thing.

Gi-hun wouldn't talk about it- whatever it was. He wouldn't talk about much of anything at all, really. That was one of the other changes you noticed about him right off the bat- your old friend would have filled any and all silences with endless chatter and laughter. Now, he existed in silence, like a melancholic ghost.

You'd always been so fond of him- and he, of you. He chose you more often than he didn't, sought life from you and you did all the same. Even with his problems, even with your own, you both found solace drinking on your balcony overlooking the small city, watching busy bodies scurry below like insects. Two struggling souls trudging through the meddling marsh that was life and it's many, many choices. Almost too many to handle.

You loved when he chose you.

Which is why when he'd showed up now, without so much as even a hello, you couldn't turn him away. Not even after the silence. Not even after you'd spent more nights thinking of him until it felt as thought your head would crush under the sheer density of his absence.

Or perhaps, it was the guilt you felt- the guilt that had saddled you like a pony and rode you until you were weak in the knees and sick in the head.

He'd come to you, then, strained and desperate pleading for funds to pay for his mothers surgery. A good cause- more important than anything else he'd ever 'borrowed' for. But back then, you had only just started working, and you could barely afford the roof over your head. He left that day with his tail tucked between his legs and you remembered thinking, man, you had fucked up something so good.

And when he never came back, you knew it to be true. And it killed you.

The most heart twisting change, standing before you now, was his smile. Or so, the lack of it. Oh, how you loved his smile- even when he was being an ass, even when he was lying. You loved that toothy, boyish grin and the uptick to his voice as he spoke with you. His expression was miles below now, with a frown so drawn that it carved deep lines into his skin.

He just needed some sleep.

Specifically, he needed someone with him while he slept. Something about paranoia and nightmares. It was certainly an odd request- but you were sure he knew you would be the best candidate for the job. Working from home and leading a rather... Introverted lifestyle, you seldom had visitors, and you never saw your bed before 6am. You spent countless evenings with him before, laughing amongst the latest hours of the night.

This was different. No laughter. No drinking, or telling jokes and stories until the birds began to chirp. No room for the good things in life.

Just sleep.

He needed a watch dog, and in his tired eyes, you made the perfect hound.

You were softer with him after you let him saunter inside your little home, probably softer than you had ever been in your entire life. Every step trailing him was quiet, like you would spook him if you moved too quickly. He stood in the middle of your living room dripping water onto your floor, unmoving, until you brought a towel. When he didn't react, those eyes so far away and abandoned, you decided to just towel him off yourself.

Removing his wet coat was a far more nerve wracking process. Not because he was upset- it was actually quite the opposite. He wasn't anything. Just stared into nothing, lost in a thick fog as you undid all the buttons and peeled the heavy fabric off his broad shoulders before tossing it to hang over a kitchen chair.

Whatever had happened to him while he was gone had changed him. Damaged him. It made you feel bad for the nights you cursed him, your anger getting the better of you when he never returned a call or text. Guilt had turned you into this unsettled, bitter beast. You missed him- you missed your friend. You always dreamed of him coming back, but you never expected this.

A part of you wondered if maybe you should get him to a hospital, for all you knew, he could have been concussed or injured. But when you tried to even bring the idea up he was quick to shoot it down. Even quicker to grab your arm when you tried to get up, like a knee jerk reaction, fingers grasping around your wrist tightly, then gentler when he realized.

He just wanted to sleep.

So, you let him.

That first night, you sat at your kitchen table, watching him rest. A thousand and one questions bounced around behind your eyes, your skull became quite full of burdened wonders. What had happened to your old friend, to make him so damn afraid?

During the hours he made quite the symphony of sounds. Sometimes it was these quiet little sighs, sometimes they were tense, ground out huffs. His brows would knit with the frustrations of his dreams, fingers gripping into tight fists before loosening to open palms over the softness of your couch. All these agonies that he couldn't run from, always finding him, even in his dreams.

You wanted to sooth him, run your fingers through his thick unkempt hair and hush all those petrified whimpers.

The birds warned of the sun before it showed face over the earth, the sky fading from a murky black dotted with stars into a softer hue, a halo of blue engulfing the distant horizon. Surely when he rose, he would be akin to a zombie, bleary eyed and drained after such an egregious rest.

Gi-hun awoke on his own just before brazen golds would streak over the clear morning sky with nothing but a slow rise to his feet. He looked... Decent, enough. Wiped the tired from his eyes and settled his hands on his lap. You watched him from the living room doorway, leaning against the frame, pity building quite the foundations within the cavity of your chest. He looked so defeated. You wished you could grab him by the shoulders and shake him out of it, snap him back into that bright soul you'd once known, but something about the state of him told you this wasn't something that would just go away.

Something had happened to him. Something so altering it rebuilt the very presence of him.

When he realized how you lingered, watching him, he stood and bowed before you. And then he was grabbing his semi-dry coat and slinking to the door, slipping outside without another word.

It didn't sit right with you. You had this gnawing, chewing feeling that perhaps you should have tried to convince him to stay. It felt too much like that day he'd left, so broken. It ripped chunks into your conscious until you ran to your door and threw it open, peeking down the hallway of your apartment complex. You saw the outline of him down the hall.

Come back when you need to, you'd called. He only looked back long enough to offer you a respectful bow before he was gone around the corner.

He didn't come back for nearly five days. Five days that you spent thinking about him incessantly. Between having missed him while he was gone and always wondering where he'd went, now that he was back, you somehow had more questions than answers. What was going on with him? Was he in danger? Is he still in danger? He'd said he was paranoid- paranoid about what? He clearly trusted you, but would he ever trust you enough to tell you?

The second night that he showed up, it was the same story, minus the rainstorm. He slinked into your domain but this time he slid his shoes off at the door, sauntered to your living room and plopped himself down on your couch. He fell asleep quicker that time, slept deeper, too. You took the time to catch up on some reading, but it was hard to focus on the writing when every now and then Gi-hun would make this pathetically sad noises. Noises that you wished you still wished you could soothe and hush.

Before he had gone to sleep, he'd told you this would be the last night he came. He would not tell you why, but he reeked of shame. You spent the entire night wishing, praying this would not be the last.

He broke your heart again. Whether he knew it or not.

That morning, you tried to make conversation. You kept it light- if he had plans that day, if he slept well. He didn't entirely ignore you this time, but offered little more than nods or soft hums of confirmation. But it was something. You could always do something with something.

Just don't disappear again. Even like this.

He left that morning with a gentle thank you and nothing more.

-

It seemed, to your dismay, Gi-hun had been true to his words.

Night after night rolled on, the days blurring into weeks and then into months. Your life had become interrupted, rocked by his two mere visits, unsure why you were so affected by the man. He was like a parasite under your skin, a creature who'd taken up housing within the confines of your mind. His sunken in features, his melancholic thousand yard stares, the way he was entirely shrouded in depressing mystery.

You hadn't realized how much you had missed him, hadn't realized how much you appreciated his company those two nights. Even sad. Even barely even a company at all, you loved him there.

Two months had passed by the time you saw him again. With an arm full of groceries and your mind lost elsewhere, you meandered up the stairs to your floor. Dim lights lit the way as you went, step by step through the complex full of sleeping bodies. You were lucky your local grocery store was open at all hours of the night, being as it was currently four in the morning. It felt all too natural for you.

Daylight brought too much... Energy. Skittering glances and chirpy tones that you really struggled to keep up with. The night was safe. The night was quiet.

You're so lost in thought that you almost don't realize there's a figure standing down the hallway. Well, you do notice them, but you don't realize they're standing in front of your apartment until you're just a couple doors away. They hadn't seen you yet, standing as still as a statue before your apartment with their hands limp to their sides.

Fear rippled up and down your spine as you took in the sight of him. In the low light, you could barely make out a few key details- short black hair, a heavy dark coat and even darker pants. No one you could immediately recognize. You rarely had visitors in the daylight let alone in the middle of the night.

What the hell could they possibly want with you at this hour?

There's something familiar about the figure, you realize, as you too stand there stuck in place watching them. The way they lean forward, almost curling into themselves as they stood. The low hang of their head.

The person raises their hand to your door, making a fist, unaware that your home sat vacant. You expected them to knock, bracing for the sound, but they freeze, almost like they're too nervous to actually draw the attention. Just barely an inch from your door. Hovering. Torn between choices, choices, choices.

Their confidence fails them. Their arm falls loosely to their side.

They take a step back- just close enough under the light for you finally get a good look at their face.

Your breath leaves you all at once.

With so little light, it's difficult to really see their features. But you'd know them anywhere- you just aren't sure how you hadn't recognized them the second you'd taken the ghastly state of them.

Gi-hun.

A wave of heart-wrenching distress drew your quizzical expression into a deep frown, worsened when he took another step back and fully committed to taking his exit. You never would have known- wondering why he had left you still. Wondering why you couldn't do more for him, why you couldn't be the hand that delivered mercy for him.

Or at the very least have been the hand that held him through it all.

Seeing him like that, you also couldn't help but wonder if this has happened before. Had he really been so close this entire time? Just merely struggling with the courage to be and exist around you?

When he turned to face you, he didn't meet your eyes. He didn't even realize it was you standing before him. He's quick to flick his heavy hood over his head, eyes focused sharp onto the floor.

"Gi-hun?"

And suddenly he's a deer that's stopped dead in the glare of beaming headlights. Bewildered, off guard, his hands still shoved roughly into his pockets when he flicks his gaze up to meet yours. Your name tumbles off his lips in stammers.

"You look terrible." Your voice comes out much more... Deadpan than it had sounded in your head, but you can't stand the idea of him just walking out. You've got him now, you can't just let him go. "Come on, let me get my stuff in and you'll lay down."

You hope that the way you don't leave room for no convinces him to just stay with you. It's the easy route- let you slip that invisible leash over his throat and guide him into the warmness of your home. To be a creature that is cared for, sheltered and fed and sleeping easy, away from it all.

For a moment, he didn't follow, and that disappointing stone began to snowball into something larger in your gut, but then, step by step, he gave into you. He stood a foot behind you while you unlocked the door, this somber and uneasy presence over your shoulder.

It was like coaxing a beaten animal. Every movement calculated, slow. Every word something sweet and digestible.

He certainly must have been tired that night. By the time you were done putting groceries away, he had already slipped his boots off at the door and laid out on the couch, accepting the giving hand of slumber. You wished you could have spoken with him, but you couldn't imagine stripping him of this.

You spent the rest of your night watching over him like some sort of guardian angel. This omnipresent being hushing his qualms and drawing him in with whisper light touches and kind words. A bed of feathers, a head full of clouds.

When the sun rose and morning dew settled over your windows, you expected him to leave just as quietly as he'd came. The thrumming, erosive need of your own rest started to diminish your flame, but... he didn't leave. Hypnotized by the glorious sun, maybe, or content to watching birds flutter past your windows. The world wakes up around him. This is the first time in 8 months that you've seen him basked in daylight.

He was just as beautiful as you always remembered. Some of him had changed- he was a little skinnier, a little more hollow, but he was still him. The golds and yellows mapped the outline of him in shimmers, poured honey into those dark, autumn eyes.

Perhaps you had been wrong about the call of daylight. This felt safe.

"Good morning." You'd said, leaning your elbows on the table, overlooking him. "Sleep well?"

He actually spoke to you, that day. A simple and sweet sound. "I did. Thank you."

"You said you weren't gonna come back."

"I know."

"I'm glad you did." You swallow. He turns to look at you, brows knit in perplexion. "I've been worried about you, you know."

Infatuated, is more like it.

"Worried?" He says, like he cant believe it. Like he doesn't know the state of himself.

Or, perhaps unsure as to why you would ever bore concerns about someone as small, as insignificant, as him.

"Well, yeah." You push away from the table, turn away from him, using the excuse of preparing coffee as a means to escape his watchful eyes. Ironic, considering you spent almost all of your recent time together taking in every detail of him. "I was worried something had happened to you. Or that you weren't sleeping well."

"I haven't been sleeping well."

"I can tell. That's why you're here, right?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Don't be. I'm just, y'know-... Like I said, I'm glad you're here. Makes me feel better."

He was quiet for a time.

"Thank you."

You turn to face him, almost expecting him to be standing with his coat in hand, ready to dip and escape the moment. Vulnerability, even despite using you as his watchman, was never something he enjoyed. Not then, not ever.

He's still sitting on the couch. You jump at the chance to keep him around, even if it's only for a few extra minutes.

"I'm making some coffee, I'm gonna make you a cup."

Once again, there is no room for no. He doesn't fight you.

What a lovely feeling that was.

Exhaustion was a cheap, cheap price to pay for his company.

-

You became his routine. This steady and true piece of him, all comfort and no worries. Silence was a virtue that went understood and, at times, appreciated.

He couldn't say, and you didn't have the bearings to ask. You didn't even know where to start. So you let him into your domain and offered up the few things you did have: a warm home, a comfortable couch. Sometimes you made him tea, sometimes you made coffee. Sometimes he slept through the night bearing thrashing slumbers. Sometimes he murmured named you didn't recognize.

Sometimes he didn't sleep at all, but still regarded your very soul next to him enough to charge his lethargy. You gained nothing except he, himself.

Color began to return to his face over the weeks. He even smiled at times and the way he sighed out something dripping in relief after he'd walk into the barrier of your home was reward enough.

Staying longer was a slow, slow tumultuous process, but when it was done, it was done. And it was perfect. You made time for him- real, safe human companionship. Words would never do justice the thickness growing between you both, filling the gaps and the crevices until there was no space left at all.

With time, your own sleeping schedule had become so twisted you rarely found the ease to sleep at all. So willing to watch him, so willing to stay up with him if he decided that day was as good as any to linger. You gave it all for him- your time, your kindness, your softness so reserved but ready for him.

Gi-hun had become your routine jus as much.

You began to fall asleep with him. You'd sit on the couch upright, tip your head back against the plush cushions and he'd curl up next to you, resting a pillow between your legs and his head. Sometimes you wished he wouldn't.

Let me cradle you, let me hold you. Let me take this all away.

When his dreams turn into darkness that threatens to swallow him whole, you pet down his hair and stroke your thumb over his angular cheekbones, and oh, how he sweetens up. How those hard, jagged edges soften into mounds, soothed by the very touch of you. Oh, how your heart would swell. Flutter in the cage of your chest and try to break free, burrow it's way into his own chest and beat for him.

When he would rise with the early sun, there would be these moments, these fleeting moments, where you would catch the pieces of him shimmering in the golden haze.

Bits of him would poke through that endless sky of ravenous clouds, fingers clawing and tearing and dragging until, if even more a moment, he could see you on the other side. Like sun blitzing through the storm, these great halo's of light that shone over you like the finest of golds.

But then it would all come crashing over him all again. Those beautiful lights would suffocate with the weight of his demons, and he would tuck himself among the noise, hiding.

Lonely in that heaven of his, shutting the gates just before you could find yourself slipping through.

Like two magnets drawn so fiercely, pulled in this undeniable gravity, just as equally shoved apart when the friction threatened to become too much.

Let me in.

He still, even now, clams up whenever you'd try to pacify those tensions, raw and flayed to the very nerve.

The split ends of him would gather and settle at the very tip of his tongue. You don't understand the bear trap, the lingering look in his eyes when he is desperate to tell you but just can't find it himself to spit the damn words out. He's reaching through the void, searching for you despite sitting a merely foot away. Perhaps he's afraid to let you in, because, to bring you in would be to share the grief. And he could never do that to you- his safehouse. He companion. Something untouched and undisturbed from the dirty paws of his inner monsters.

The little pieces of him that chipped off like rust and scattered over your touch were always that of guilt. That was the center piece of him- a great table cloth stained in remorse you couldn't quite put your finger on.

What have you done, Gi-hun?

What have they done to you?

One night, when the words that left his tongue were too heavy to burden, he'd told you that he was sorry. Sorry, for making you be this necessity for him.

"You shouldn't have to put up with this." He'd said, with eyes that refused to leave his lap. Refused to see you beside him. You just touched his shoulder gingerly, reminded him that you were there, you would always be there.

"I don't have to. I love putting up with you."

"You don't deserve this-... this work.

"It's hardly work."

"It is. It's rotten work."

Gi-hun's eyes were far away, and so you drew him back to you, watched those beautiful irises take you in. Right next to him. Your hand the beacon of light guiding him through the dark seas, the hand that leads as it touches his arm. So small in nature, so significant in meaning.

"Not to me," You whispered, and you could see him in his expression, your Gi-hun. "Not if it's you."

-

Tonight he's smoking out on the balcony by the time you're finished with a shower. He should be sleeping- catching up on the rest he always sought to capture in his hands, always evading him without you, for some reason. The moon is high, the stars are twinkling. It's a gorgeous sight if not for the fact that he's out there in a t-shirt and it's freezing. You pluck his blanket from the couch and slide the door open, cringing at the cold air.

"What are you doing?" You sigh, tossing the blanket over his shoulder.

"Thank you." Gi-hun takes a long drag from his cigarette and clutches the blanket to himself with his other hand, as if only just now realizing how cold he was. Smoke and hot breath leave him in great plumes of grey that swirl into the night. Snowflakes dot the balcony railing and catch in his hair.

The wind is so cold it's almost freezing your soaking wet hair, but you couldn't imagine leaving him out here alone.

You sit beside him on the bench. "...Can I stay out here with you?"

Gi-hun nods. It's silent for a long time between the two of you, this comfortable, pleasant energy mounting in the gaps between your bodies. It's a feeling you've gotten used to, one that you've come to appreciate the sparing times you get it.

You could do this forever, you think. Just enjoying the existence of him.

"Your hair."

You blink at him, and he's looking at you. Really looking at you. He reaches out and gently catches frozen strands on his fingers.

"You should go back inside. It's too cold out here." And then he's holding his cigarette between his lips so he could pull the blanket from around his shoulders and toss it over yours instead.

"We should both go inside." You're both shivering messes. He doesn't answer right away, but he puts his cigarette out in the ashtray before leaning his elbows on his legs. You reach out and tentatively touch at his arm. He doesn't immediately- pull away like he's had before, always so scared of the touches, so you take it further. Little steps here and there. Always testing the waters of him.

You trace your thumb over his knuckles. He watches you with this delicate expression, pliable and tinted. Gentle, you take his hand into yours.

"Let's go inside."

It's not so much of a command than a plea. But he takes it as one anyways and lets you bring him to his feet. He stands a whole head above you but moves like you're carrying him, leaning into you ever so subtly. There's something different about him tonight. He's willing, not fighting the way you're taking care of him. The hard lines of him are blurring just enough for you pass right through them. The gates of him are opening with splinters of light striping your fingers.

A sense of him that he's ready, maybe, to topple over and spill all of his guts onto the hardwood floor right before you.

You bring him to the couch and he sets himself down gently beside you. For a time, you're both silent, but you're still holding his hand and he's still letting you and his eyebrows are drawing into these pensive lines that you cant stand to see anymore.

Stop thinking. Stop worrying. Look at me.

"Gi-hun." You whisper.

Look at me.

His eyes don't tear from their hold forward, unfocused and far away, that lucidity of him slipping through your fingers like sand.

Please, look at me.

Your hand leaves his so you can gingerly move his face to look at you, your fingers catching his jaw, barely, just barely begging with your actions for him to just look at you. He doesn't fight you. His eyes finally meet your line of sight and he's clearly struggling with something deep, deep within the confines of his very soul. Lines of guilt, traces of shame, short shallow breaths of apprehension.

Why are you so afraid of me? When you are so lonely?

Oh, there's tears forming in his eyes. There is something different, tonight. You bring your other hand up to catch the other side of his face.

Let me fix this. Let me help you, fix this.

"Gi-hun."

There you go, finding pilled tears gathering at your waterlines all the same. Sapping the emotions from him, feeling for him. An extension of him. All these feelings flowing through you like a trickling stream turned into roaring rivers. His expression falls all over again like its his fault. There is so much of him underneath it all and you want to drag it out, you want to save him in a way he never thought he'd have again.

He swallows hard, struggling to gag down the emotions threatening to spill out.

His skin is soft under your palms. Smooth. You want more.

"Let me in." You whisper. "Talk to me."

Your fingers are holding him so sweetly in your grasp, taking the weight from him, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the sides of his cheeks. Any moment now, you're sure he'll back away like the frightened animal realizing it's been ensnared. He always does, with shameful eyes and guilt eating away at him in droves, unable to cope with himself and unable- unwilling to let you help him.

The old him would nip at heels for a scrap- a beggar, a taker. But not anymore. He wouldn't let you in the way a wild animal wouldn't feed from your giving hand.

You want so much more of him. You want to pull him from the fire that lapped up every bit of life he had left to offer. You gently pull him into you, a winged hug.

Gi-hun doesn't answer you.

But he lets you bring him in. He buries his face into the cradle of your neck and he breathes so, so deeply that you're sure it must hurt his lungs to finally suck air so real that everything else must feel stale in comparison. His heart is thrumming like a drum against you and it reminds you that he's alive, reminds him that he's alive, and moving under your skin and letting out quiet breaths into your warm flesh that lights you on fire.

Was this was the way in? Gentle hands, a cooing voice, arms that could never seem to hold him tight enough?

You would do it for a lifetime. Whatever he wanted, whatever he needed.

"It's okay."

He gives in. Falls into you like Icarus seeking the fiery hot glow of the sun, unfurls himself and clutches you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to this life. Like you're the only thing worth being tethered to.

Tears are stinging your eyes, your lower lip is trembling something awful. He's right there, everything you've been praying for, longing for. Shaking into shattered bits and pieces right in your very arms.

Fall apart, I will rebuild you.

When he drags back, you re-find the sides of his face.

Don't go, don't go.

He's looking at you with raw, real emotion. Simmering embers flaring into open flames when his eyes meet yours, fingers that seem to try and find their way into the very being of you. He's flicking fervent glances from your lips to your eyes- you can't take it anymore.

Give it all to me.

You drag him down to kiss you. And he, despite himself, let's you.

He braces himself with one hand on the backrest of the couch behind your head and let's you take him in. His other arm is caught in the air, hovering just above your arm, so desperate to touch but so afraid to break this perfect, perfect moment.

Always thinking. Always hesitating.

You lean into him, deepen the kiss and drag him into you, clashing like those magnets, all hands and shifting bodies. Finally that broad hand finds you, the knuckles grazing your shoulder up to your neck, to the curve of your jaw. He rests it there, holds you, cups you like a precious thing to him. All those frustrations are spilling from him in the form of pensive brows and sighs against your lips.

You drink them in, greedy and hungry to take, take, take.

Give it all to me. Let me carry it for you. Let me breathe you in and never breathe you out.

The hand he braced himself with twists into the fabric of the couch. You lick into his mouth and fuck, he lets you. Make's a small noise in the back of throat that makes you shiver. He's moving in tandem with you, this timid game of push and pull until it flames into something far more fervent.

Let me give you this.

You make sweet sounds to spur him on, and it seems to work. He's losing his edges, he's finding himself through you.

It takes only one swift nudge at his chest for him to fall back onto the cushions, head nestled on the arm rest, one leg slung over the edge of the couch and the other outstretched underneath you. He looks perfect like this, kiss-drunk and running on pure devotion. All else non-existent except you.

"Gi-hun," Your voice reaches him in a whisper, barely able to be heard at all. His breaths are leaving him in shallow pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Spotlighted under the focus on him, so drawn to you, so full of you, that you could see yourself in the mirrors of his beautiful eyes. When you lean down to kiss him again, capture him into you even further, he props himself up on his elbow to meet you there.

Straddling his hips came as natural as the tide reaching to the moon. And his hands come to find you equally as instinctive- but he thinks too much into it- hesitates all over again just an inch or so above your skin. You break the kiss only long enough to settle them onto you, your skin warm against his palms from underneath your thin night shorts. He breathes out something strangled and fond. Looks at you like you put the stars in the sky one by one, just for him.

You would if you were able to. Just to show him, just to prove how much he meant to you. Show him something better, kinder.

Gi-hun, in all his devastation, had fallen so far from the the light that he truly never believed there would be sunlight ever again. He would always be this buried, maimed creature. But he finds it in you, this glowing angel that unfurled great, great wings and carried his damned soul from the pits of hell. He finds it in this, his beating heart, your gentle voice, his fingers shaking but they search for you all the same.

You let them find you. Let them drag along your warm skin. You lean down to kiss him once more and he's all too greedy to take you in, one of those hands placed on your hips reaching up to hold your jaw and keep you there. He needs this. He needs you. Even if he can't find the words to tell you, he needs you.

You kiss life into his very being, breathe the air back into him. He's getting antsy, he's starting to squirm, that emptiness in him replaced with something of heat stricken substance, a fire coaxing and drawing.

More, more, more.

Flushed, skin warm and twitching under your wandering touches. Brought back to life by the taste of your lips and the seeking touch of your hands slipping underneath his shirt. 

[wcnderlnds]

here for you | peter parker

・❥・ summary: after getting kicked out, peter comes to the rescue like always ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: n/a ・❥・ authors note: this is my first time writing for my beloved peter parker!! its also the first time ive wrote anything in like a month. this was a request from this list. feel free to request any!

The rain was falling hard in New York City. It was one of those cold, rainy nights that had most people bustling through the streets with their umbrellas hurrying to get home. Unfortunately, you were one of those people. The heavy thud of the raindrops falling on your umbrella and the usual sound of the busy New York traffic were the only things keeping you grounded in that moment. The puddles on the pavement soaked your favourite pair of boots as you aimlessly wandered, suitcase full of belongings trailing along with you as you dragged it across the concrete. This wasn’t how your day was supposed to go. Your original plan had been to sit in front of the fire, cup of cocoa in your hand as you watched Love Actually. Too bad you had forgotten to pay your darn rent. 

Money had been tight lately. Balancing a part time job and university was no easy feat. So much so that you had ended up sacrificing your job for the sake of your mental health. You had thought your savings would be enough until you had a better grip on things to find another job but you were wrong. The well had run dry and after another missed rent payment, your landlord had kicked you out. 

When it rained, it definitely poured.

As you stepped into a particularly deep puddle, the familiar sound of a ‘thwip’ sounded above you. Craning your neck up, you spotted none other than the famous Spider-Man perched on a lamppost, head tilted as he looked at you almost like he was examining you. The corners of your lips almost tugged up into a smile as you imagined the concern in his eyes under that mask. Peter Parker had shared his secret with you almost the day he’d found out himself. You were his best friend after all – the two of you told each other everything. The eyes on his mask widened in questioning.

“Got kicked out,” you shrugged. Saying it out loud made it feel all the more real. Not that walking through the streets with everything you owned in a suitcase didn’t.

After checking to make sure nobody was around to hear, Peter spoke. “Meet me at my place. Gotta take care of something first.”

With that, he swung away no doubt on his way to tackle some crime. At least in a city like New York, Spider-Man was never short of something nefarious to keep him occupied. The whole city was like a hub for superheroes and criminals at this point. It was so much so that you were almost desensitised to it. Maybe that had something to do with the fact your best friend was one of those superheroes. Your feet carried you to Peter’s apartment, knocking on the door when you approached. No answer. He must still be out. A sigh passed your lips as you sat on the floor, back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of you as you waited for that nerdy, cute friend of yours to arrive. The raindrops from your jacket were dripping on the floor. Huh, you hadn’t realised it had been raining that hard. Probably too lost in your own thoughts. 

It was ten minutes later when the door to the apartment opened – Peter must have swung in through his window. The pros of being Spider-Man meant you didn’t have to deal with such meander things as walking. Sometimes you wished that spider had bit you so you could swing your way through the city without a care. His mask was in his hand as you stepped through the threshold, the door shutting behind you. His big, brown eyes looking at you with concern.

“I know you have questions and I’ll answer but I really need to get out of these wet clothes right now,” you cringed as you pulled your jacket off, your jeans sticking to your legs.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure, sure. You can… use the bathroom. You know where it is,” Peter nodded, his cheeks tinting pink at the mere thought of you getting changed in his apartment. He knew he shouldn’t have thoughts like that but he couldn’t help himself. Throughout the years Peter had somewhat started to develop feelings for you. It was something he beat himself up about every single day because there was no way you felt the same way for him. Why would you? You were incredible and he was… him. No, Peter would always keep this secret to himself. There was no way he was ever going to lose you so if it only meant friendship then he’d take it.

“You should have told me you were struggling to pay rent!” Peter exclaimed. Once both of you had gotten changed, you’d situated yourselves on Peter’s couch, a blanket thrown over the two of you as you filled him in on your situation.

“Peter, no offence but you can barely afford to pay your own rent let alone help me.”

“I would’ve found a way.”

A smile lit up your face, hand reaching out to give his a squeeze. “I know and I am so lucky to have someone like you looking out for me like that but I could never ask that of you.”

Peter’s eyes glanced down at your hand atop his, barely containing how sweaty his palm was starting to feel at your simple touch. He was down bad. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down a gulp, shaking his head. “You know I’m always going to be there for you, right? Always. No matter what happens. I would do anything and everything in this world to help you and protect you. There’s nothing more precious to me than you.”

His words hit you straight in the feelings, your heart beating a mile a minute like it was about to burst out of your chest. The sincere look in his eyes, the way he always seemed to make you his number one priority – there was nobody who looked after you as fiercely as Peter did. Despite everything he’d been through with his family and losing Gwen, he had never let you down. The second your eyes met his it was like the whole world had stopped still. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat as Peter’s delicate fingers reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture making your stomach do flips.

“Stay here with me…. for as long as you want,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” you leaned into his touch. The moment lingering between you, neither wanting it to end. There would be many, many more moments just like this one – you just didn’t know it yet.

taglist: @strawb3rrystar @decaf-mother @ldydeath @mistysconcilium

[wildshona]

Samhain Sacrifice

Sorry this is a long one.

So, yesterday I got up in a sort of Goth dress and stockings and went to a party, having made myself look nice and pale. Btw the dress came down to my knees so no naughty stocking tops. I knew theer would be kids at the first part of the party.

So Chris and i arrived at about 6 and the party had been goin on for about an hour already. It was at Toni’s – yes, I know, I wanted that just like my followers no doubt too – anyway there was a marquee in her garden . i think i’ve said that she has a fuck off big house next to the common. Anyway, there were jugglers and fire eaters and a punch and judy show and all sorts of Victorian hucksters and games and a fortune teller who told me that there would be many men and women in my life. Good to know huh, keep hoping you folk. Anyway the kids who were all dressed up in Halloween costumes and looking cutely scary were having a great time and the grown ups were too and drinking in moderation cos there were kids there. Oh and food was kid type food – hot dogs and burgers and inedible stuff for vegans.

Anyway the kids part of the party ended at 9 and the vanilla folk went home and the party could start tho there wasn’t any sign that this was going to be a sex party. Sure some of the new arrivals were dressed in dead cheerleader or dead sexy schoolgirl outfits and there was  lot of leather and pvc about but nothing that shouted time to fuck. So there was drinking and dancing and a bit more food and god i haven’t mentioned Toni.

She was doing gracious hostess dressed in this long white gown that was really clingy. I mean really clingy. Fucking obvious theer was no underwear under there.

Anyway there was a big cheer when a gong sounded at 10 and it was announced that Samhain had begun and then things carried on. Then a pair of arms came round my waist from behind and a voice whispered

Do you trust me Shona? It was Toni

Yes

Will you do anything i ask of you tonight?

Fucking yes – well actually i just said yes and i could feel my nipples go hard against my corset bodice.

About quarter past eleven Chris came up to me – we don’t stick together much at parties unless we’re fucking – Toni says follow me. OK then. So i follow Chris and there are people changing out of their party gear and putting on black robes like you see in horror films – complete with the hoods three women, two men and Chris made a third. I had a white one. I was expected to dress down to nothing and put it on – well everyones was doing the same and im not exactly shy and im wondering whats going to happen very aware of my hard tits and my wet cunt.

Anyway at eleven forty forty i guess a gong sounds and we process from where we heve changed int the marquee where everyone applauds and parts and ive got a man and woman in front of me and to my side and behind me – Chris is behimd me. Then we go from the marquee into the reception hall and then into what I know is the diningroom except everything has been taken out except the table which has a heavy red cover over it and there are candles everywhere.

And there is Toni thick black hair loose, her lips bright red, her eyes highlighted in purple and black and her robe is scarlet and clingy

I feel Chris behind me unslip the catch on my robe and pulls i off my shoulders to the floor and i am naked and if my nipples got any harder i could stab someone to death with them. Naked in front of Toni and oh yeah all the party guests who have crowded into the dining room.

I’m helped up to lie down face up on the table. And a short sword or long knife take your pick is rested on my body with the hilt between my tits, the crossguard under my tits and the blade pointing down to my cunt. Toni says something in a language i don’t knoe – not latin cos though i never learnt latin I can recognise it. One of the acolytes i suppose u call them gave her a goblet to drink out of and she did and gave it back. Then she put something on my lips an ointment of some sort and it made my lips warm and sensitive, then on my nipples fucking hell that felt so good and then on my clit and my cunt lips – fucking hell i was suddenly warm and i was breathing heavy and shaking a little.

She took the sword/knife off my shaking body and handed it to an acolyte. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. She was holding my hands at my side so that i couldn’t move. She probably only kissed me for a few seconds but it seemed like forever. Then she stood up and took my nipples between her fingers. Who the fuck was moaning like that – ah, me. Just a gentle tweak and i was shaking and my breathing was coming really fast. Then she touched my clit and stroke my cunt – just one stroke and the orgasm came from nowhere and i was shaking like i was having an epileptic fit and the orgasm cam in wave after wave and three of the acolytes held me down – they were standing on the side where Toni was so the party could still see what was going on - and the orgasm went on and on and on and i was almost – no i really was screaming with pleasure and fucking LUST.

Finally i started to subside. Toni kissed me again and swept out of a door opposite the one we had all come through. The acolytes help me off the table and put another robe round me – not the one from earlier – it was white like the other but almost transparent and didn’t join at the front so my cunt was in full view.

It was gone midnight now and the party carried in til 2. The acolytes had disappeared. Chris told me later that Toni had paired three couples, including him, and they were all sent off to a bedroom each to fuck. There are 8 bedrooms in the house apparently. So I wandered around the party where it seemed everyone had the right to kiss me and touch me though not to do more. Toni had changed into another robe – purple this time and wore a gold circlet on her head – god i am so in love with that woman.

Chris came to take me away eventually. Toni gave me a long lingering kiss as I left.

I can tell you that as soon as we were home i jumped on Chris and fucked and fucked him until we both fell asleep. I dreamed of Toni.   

[morganbritton132]

ahhhh i just spent the last three days reading every post on the emtts tag and im in love with your whole little universe. i kept meaning to make a list of all of the little things but i kept getting distracted and forgetting so i only started at april 18th bc i NEED (subject to your willingness to expand/care act this particular part of your universe) to hear more about all of the little stories of steve getting arrested (particularly hopper arresting steve?? and them breaking into steves parents house?)

thanks for this amazing space!! you’ve made a universe that ive been thinking about constantly and that expands on the characters in such a beautiful mundane way, its very cool!!

ps i just read one of the follow ups in the death threat part where steve admits he doesn’t want to stop teaching bc dustin asks eddie about it and i think im about to cry holy shit

pps on the death threat part with diane oh god. like just steve having to figure it out in front of her and her explaining to him and him admitting to just not being ok i just

First, thank you so much! This is all so very nice of you to say and props for getting through everything in three days. It is quite a bit! It’s honestly amazing how much has been written in such a short amount of time. I’m only going to cover Steve getting ‘arrested’ and I’ll touch on Steve and Eddie’s breaking and entering at a later date.

Steve started having seizures a little after they closed the gate on the Upside Down for good or, well. They started noticing that he was having seizures after they closed the gate. It was heavily implied in the undertone of his doctor’s voice that these seizures were likely going on for a while and that they likely not going to stop anytime soon.

Steve took this news as well as anybody could.

Everybody was kinda waiting for him to have a breakdown over it, but it never happened because Steve was – well, he wasn’t fine. Obviously. But it is what it is, right? If the worst thing to come out of all this Upside Down stuff is that he’s a little dumber than he was before than how could he complain?

Max was learning how to walk again.

What Steve didn’t take well was his doctor telling him that he wasn’t allowed to drive anymore. In fact, he did not take that news at all. He completely ignored it, and he ignored the looks that Robin when give him when he drove himself to work, and he would say, “It’s not like I’m driving the kids around or anything. It’s just me.”

“And that’s supposed to make me worry less?”

“I pull over if I feel weird.”

He wasn’t actually driving all that much anyways. Robin got her permit and Eddie got the all-clear to drive again, so no one needed to rope Nancy into lecturing him about ‘the dangers.’ He didn’t need Dustin’s complaining or Eddie’s ‘hey, maybe you should listen to them’ or Joyce stopping him on his way out the door. And he didn’t need Hopper.

Steve was learning to accept that sometimes he needed help. He was doing better, but Steve practically lived alone despite the jokes people were making about him being at Eddie’s all the time, and he wasn’t going to bother someone just because he needed toilet paper.

Steve was sitting in his car outside of the Fair Mart, trying to remember why he needed to go there in the first place, when there was a knock on his window. He startled and blinked hard twice before looking over at the drivers’ side window. He frowned.

Hopper was standing there and he looked annoyed. He gestured for him to get out of the car and Steve frowned more, fumbling with his seatbelt before pushing the door open. For lack of anything else to do once he was out of the car, Steve said, “Hey, what’s up?”

Hopper frowned more like he was annoyed with Steve which was, in itself, was really annoying because Steve didn’t do anything. He was just here to buy… He was here to get… Wait. “Huh?”

Hopper sighed loudly and repeated himself. Slowly. “Give me. Your keys.”

Maybe it was Hopper’s tone or maybe there was some stock in what his doctor said mood swings, or maybe Steve was just tired of everybody treating him like a baby that needed taken care of and watched. Just when Hopper reached to take the keys out of his hand, Steve shoved him away.

Everything kinda blurred at the edges and the headache that’s been wedged in the corner of Steve’s jaw pulsed. He didn’t really take a breath until Hopper shoved him against the hood of his car.

Hopper cuffed metal around his wrists and said, “Good going, Harrington.”

Steve yanked on his arm and snapped back, “You’re not even a cop anymore. You can’t arrest me.”

“Call it a citizen’s arrest.”

Eddie laughed for four minutes of Steve’s five minute phone call at the police station. He laughed so hard that Steve knew that he was holding his side where the bites were the deepest because they were still tender, and Steve just rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. Are you gonna get me?”

“Hm, yeah,” Eddie grinned through the phone. “Yeah. It’s a little ironic that the Prom K-“

Steve hung up the phone.

The ‘charges’ that Hopper (not a cop) threatened to ‘throw the book at him’ for were driving without a valid driver’s license. There was a part of Steve that knew that this was all just for show to teach him a lesson, but still argued that he had a valid license because no one took it away from him, and actually, “This is false imprisonment, right? Maybe I should call my family lawyer.”

It was even more annoying that Eddie – rolling into the building smelling like weed an hour later – agreed with Hopper. 

[grape-icing]

hi!! could you write a short story thingy between cg! roxy and regressor! dave? platonic ofc!!! i think roxy would act as a mother figure to dave!!! maybe dave comes over to roxys for a playdate for the first time, and he’s a little nervous to be so vulnerable around someone for the first time!! idk, you can take whatever creative liberty you want with it!! :)) thank you!!

HAIIII IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! IVE HAD TESTING ALL WEEK AND I HAD NO IDEAS!!! SORRY IN ADVANCE IF ITS BAD!!! I'll also post this on ao3 :33333

Actual story!!

Dave was pretty nervous about John's doctor's appointment because he knew John would call a babysitter. Which was fine he supposed due to the fact he already told everyone about his regression but he hadn't been watched by anyone else before. Bluh!!! Even the thought of it made him anxious. Dave curled up next to John, filled with worry.

“Something worry bud?” John questioned the sudden movement of the younger boy.

“Uh no” Dave replied which was a lie because he didn't want John to get worried and potentially miss his appointment. Although now that Dave thought about it���.

Well never mind, the mystery babysitter was here. Dave really hoped it wasn't someone in his family.

“Oh! That must be her.” John got up and raced towards the door.

“Hiya Roxy!” Dave was doomed, why did it have to be his mom? Sister? thing of all people, well at least it's not Dirk.

“Ok, so he knows where everything is and stuff. Uh, am I missing anything? Oh, his favorite juice is in the fridge. Shoot I'm already late! Okay got to go, bye Dave I love ya!” John quickly left.

“Hai Davey!” Roxy announced. Dave turned away.

“Oh um okay. Do you want to watch a movie or play or….uhm…do something?” Roxy questioned, trying to get him to do anything.

“No,” Dave said quick and bluntly.

“You don't wanna do…anything like at all? Not even a movie?” Roxy walked over and sat right beside him.

“I- uhm sure, I guess,” Dave replied not trying to hurt his mother's feelings. Dave didn't actually know if Roxy considered herself his mother but she didn't mind being called “Mom” so maybe.

“Good!! So whatcha wanna watch honey?” Roxy reached over to grab the remote.

“Uhm I'm not sure, maybe Octonauts? You can pick if you want though.” Dave said in a softer voice than earlier.

“Nah, Octonauts work!” Roxy quickly put the show on and wrapped an arm around Dave, which he wiggled and squirmed his way out of.

After around 20 minutes Roxy suggested they go outside and get some fresh air which Dave very nervously said yes to.

“Need any help getting your shoes on, baby?” Roxy asked while bending down to him.

“no” Dave stated. Roxy saw right through the lie and helped him tie his shoes.

“Uh m-mom,” Dave muttered.

“Hm? What is it pumpkin?” Roxy questioned as she finished trying the younger one's shoes.

“Nothing much. I was just wondering if it was hot outside.” Dave asked while standing up.

“Oh yeah, it's going to be very hot, perfect for playing!” Roxy said cheerfully while grabbing her purse to leave.

“Oh” whined Dave.

“Is something wrong muffin?” Roxy asked due to the tone of his voice. “If you don't want to play that's okay, we can get ice cream if you want!”

“I want um ice cream, please” Dave followed Roxy onto the front steps.

“Alrighty! We can totes do that, I think there's an ice cream place right around here.”

Roxy carefully held his hand the entire walk home, which Dave thought was nice. After about five minutes of walking, they made it to the ice cream parlor.

“Look! We're here!” Roxy bumped Dave on the shoulder to draw his attention.

“Mhm,” Dave quietly followed his mother over to the counter to order their ice creams.

“Okay I'll have one strawberry ice cream and, what do you want Dave?”

“Uhh cookies and cream please.”

After the two got their ice cream they started to walk back home.

“Hey Rox, do ya know um when dad is going to be home?”

“Yeah, he has to run some errands so it might be another hour or two. Don't worry though! Me and you will have loads of fun.” Roxy reassured him that the time would fly by and she'd be out in no time.

“It's okay if you don't want me to stay. I'm not mad I promise.” Roxy gently stoked his hair.

“N-no I don't want you to leave I just don't want you to uhmm never mind.” Dave quickly cut himself off before starting to try and speed-walk home.

“Dave baby slow down. You can tell me anything! I wouldn't say a peep to anybody, not even John!” Dave hit a full stop when she said that.

“Uhm well that was kinda it, I don't want you to go and talk about me to like, I don't know, Rose or Dirk?” Roxy turned to Dave and pulled him into a hug.

“I would never do that, but I can understand why you would think that. Hehe, I talk a bunch so it's reasonable.”

Dave and Roxy stood, embraced in that hug for at least a minute straight before going back to walking again.

Once the two of them returned to the house Roxy decided it would be best just to stay home due to the heat instead of playing outside. Roxy put Dave’s show back on before realizing he was probably still hungry.

“Hey sweet pea, you hungry?” Dave silently nodded. While Roxy went to cook him something, Dave slowly moved over to where he kept all of his little items but started to hesitate, finally, he picked up his bottle.

“Whatcha messing with Dave?” Roxy asked, coming into the room to check on him.

“Uh n-nothing?” Dave squealed out as he quickly shoved what he was holding behind his back.

“Are you sure? Because that didn't seem like nothing?” Roxy questioned as she got closer. “What’s behind your back, Dave?”

“Nothing like I said!” Dave said in an elevated tone, leaning away from her, trying to conceal what was behind him.

“Dude, I need to see what's behind you so I can make sure it’s nothing dangerous.” Roxy pulled his arms away from his back, which was surprisingly easy.

“Pumpkin if you wanted a drink you could have just asked. I'll bring it when I bring your food. I'll be right back!” Roxy placed a small kiss on his forehead and went back to the kitchen.

While Roxy was in the kitchen she quickly filled up his bottle with the apple juice in the fridge, Grabbed his food, and made her way back into the living room. When she got there she handed him the plate.

“Um, thanks” Dave muttered while eating a big spoonful.

“Of course!” Roxy answered.

“Oh, wait! Here’s your bottle, sweetie.” Roxy handed him his cup and sat down beside him. Dave mumbled something inaudible and shoved it where it couldn’t be seen due to him being embarrassed by it. Which obviously confused Roxy.

“You okay little dude? I saw you hiding your drink, any reason for it? if it’s because of me, you don't gotta worry, I don't care whatcha do as long as you’re not getting hurt or making a mess.” Roxy moved closer so she was basically right against Dave’s back, She gave him a small hug from behind. Dave leaned into her warm embrace and cautiously reached for his bottle, looking over at Roxy to make sure she wouldn't judge him or anything like that. Roxy planted a small kiss on his head as he finally started to drink his juice. After around twenty minutes Roxy pulled a blanket over him as soon as she realized he was asleep.

“Hey! I'm back!” John announced, getting cut off by a loud “shhh!!” from Roxy.

[lovinggreeniehours]

pen thread music flame and comet? (@snowpuffclovers)

i can finally essay about takaharaa :DDD yayyy

����️ pen: say a fact about your self insert, it can be absolutely anything! short or long winded!

(hehehe angst)

when takahara absorbed the magic from the forbidden door, he obtained inhuman powers, among a few other things. one of the 'other things' could be read as somewhat of a curse? because ever since absorbing that magic, people have started to forget him

people he knew well and were close with weren't quite affected, of course. but acquaintances would find that his face, name, and voice have blurred in their memory. if an old classmate hadn't talked to him in a few months, there's a good chance they're right on the cusp of forgetting him altogether

he and solomon made a talisman to give to people that's charmed to help them remember. and to ease takahara's nerves a little. it's hard to go through life everyday having to remind everyone who you are. especially as someone in diavolo's inner circle

but he supposes it helps a bit during investigations, that people do not remember his face. but it keeps him up at night sometimes, wondering if he'll wake up the next morning only to find that his entire family had forgotten him

🧵thread: what would your self insert wear in the source your f/o is from? it can be multiple outfits or just one!

ooooh takahara has a lot of outfits lmao. i have yet to make better refs though 😭 so ill take the time and ramble about it instead im so sorry about how long this is HDDJFFJ

in s1 and 2, takahara's casual outfit is his signature red hoodie, grey pants, red sneakers (very random but important design note: after lesson 6, he always keeps the hood up because he feels like it better protects his neck :) ) it's very unassuming and comfortable, as that's how he hoped to be perceived

god wait that is so strange to say lmao not to tangent but 🥹 wow character development 🥹🥹 "oh no! guy who used to try and fade into the background and avoid attention realizes that he likes attention and has been deprived of it his entire life! he begins to work on himself and become confident so he never has to hide anymore and- oh fuck he's been cursed to be forgotten by everyone" like wow okay 😭

i haven't thought about it much before (just a little hehe) but takahara's wardrobe changes actually kind of do reflect his character huh 🥺 yay. go me im so good at this

his rad uniform is very standard. as i said, bland and unassuming. the most customized thing in there his how he uses the red sash as a scarf (also to cover his neck). as time goes on, the scarf becomes a staple part of his design. and i like it a lot because it's still takahara signature color red (more vibrant than his hoodie though 👀), but unlike the hood, it doesn't quite hide his face. takahara in rad uniform is like. almost foreshadowing for how he feels at home in the devildom. how well he fits in there without even realizing

(extra: in s2, takahara very briefly has a white and blue outfit when he and lucifer visits takahara's family in the human world. it's meant to directly contrast his usual color palette AND emphasize the demeanor change/masking takahara does in his old life as a human compared to how he's grown to be like in the devildom

in s3, takahara's outfit is somewhat similar as s1, but he has a black shirt, red hoodie (it's a slightly brighter red and has a zipper left open this time), and a denim jacket. i don't think about s3 much but ive contemplated whether or not takahara should put down his hood this season

now s4 and onwards is the outfit i usually draw takahara in now :D which is the light brown trench coat, signature scarf, boots, and rad emblem! these are his work clothes essentially. since by this time, he's joined diavolo's inner circle 👍

EXTRA BONUS: his nightbringer outfit, which i do have a reference for hehe. takahara has like a million more outfits for different events, but these show up the most in the main story :)

bonus: do you have a weapon? if so, describe it or show it!

hmmmm i wouldn't call it takahara's weapon exactly, but he had a rapier during nightbringer. which plays a um. somewhat significant role, let's say 😁

🎵music: if you/your self insert had a theme song, what would it be?

THIIIIIIIS!!!! THIS ONEE!!!!!

hate me sometimes - stand atlantic is The takahara song and it has been his theme song since the moment i made him 🙏 amen. i will be talking for actual days if i was told to do lyric analysis about this song so that's all i will say

bonus: an extra song that fits your self insert and your f/o!

if you ask me to lyrically analyze easy to hate - waterparks i might actually kick your door and talk for a million years but just know. that this is THE ARIFER SONG. it is SO their song. and i adore it with my entire being

i viscerally remember when i was first writing up their story and making the playlist and being so stuck because i couldn't find a single song that fit them well enough. AND THEN THIS SONG JUST. RAN ME OVER 😭 all the lyrics about them source trust me

🔥flame: does self insert have an enemy? if so, who is it and why are they so hated? what was a particularly heated moment between you two?

my enemy is lucifer. i hate him because he exists and for a heated moment there was- (is shot)

um. serious answer idk 😔 like to be very frank takahara hasnt hated anyone more than lucifer HDSHHSG like seriously 😭 he's not. an emotional guy. there are people that annoy him or people that inconvenience him but they don't really matter to him i think. he just calls annoying people worms,,,

and like the question is so funny to me, you can't say HEATED MOMENT and ENEMY around takahara 😭 that's the fucking enemies to lovers guy 😭😭

☄️comet: what was a moment where your self insert really shined? this can be a badass moment, a moment where you felt important to the overall lore, or just a really cool and important moment!

takahara mattering to the plot? 😭 lmao since when /j

i think the first things that came to mind are all instances of takahara trying to protect his siblings (the grimoire incident in lesson 6, distracting lucifer so they can sneak up to the attic unnoticed, all the times he steps in front of them when he senses danger) 🤔 hm. yeah i genuinely find it hard to find a very specific moment where he "shines", as the question put it. it's just that a lot of his more important moments involve his relationships with others

the only moment i think he really has for himself is absorbing magic from the forbidden door but god that is so trauma heavy i don't know if im allowed to call that badass lmaoo 😭

maybe, i'll consider that bit in nightbringer when lucifer loses control in cocytus so takahara (no longer powerless) gets to magic fistfight him :) HDDHFSGH

[catnipsims]

BESTIE @aliengirl tagged me, thankou !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sims Tag

1. What’s your favourite sims death? The city living pufferfish one 😭 its kinda silly hgishughuhdg

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? well i used to be maxis match but idk anymore hiushguriugiosrhig alpha cc is so pretty on the previews but often looks... crunchy????? in game... so i guess i tend to stick to mostly mm???

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? I've never played far enough of any household to notice weight gain 😭😭😭

4. Do you use move objects? GIRL YES 😍😍

5. Favorite mod? i CANNOT live without more columns in cas & no cc wrench 😭😭

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? first one i got back when my game was still a legal copy was city living !

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? LIVing !!!!!!!!!!!!!

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? i have an unhealthy attachment to veronique, the model sim i made back in 2020. (Shes the one i used to model my recent Octavia hair) her tag

9. Have you made a simself? yes on multiple occasions 😭here

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? I just choose random ones most of the time???? but after checking creative seems to be a common one??

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? Oh the fourth one, that new warm brown one, i keep needing to restrict myself from using it on every single sim i ever make....

12. Favorite EA hair? really love the short parted one from the free update back in september?????? of 2021

13. Favorite life stage? the few times ive tried playing in live mode its been young adults so that one????????

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? im only ever really in cas eiughisghiruhg. i build sometimes but i really never play in live mode so i guess builder????????????

15. Are you a CC creator? well im supposed to be but cc creating is just on the backburner rn 🤭 also bugfixing gives me anxiety

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? i have the 5-ish mutuals that i keep harassing with my silly comments, but definitely no full on squad

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) ts4 was the first one i got, and the only one ive really played, so i guess that one

18. Do you have any sims merch? nough 🥰😍🤪👍

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? i tried and forgot about it 😭😭😭 so currently no

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? i think i used alpha cc back in like 2017????????????? and then i transitioned to my hardcore maxismatch era back during the early times of this simblr if you were there no you dont i ate your memories of me and now its just all over the place (maxis mix????????? idk)

21. What’s your Origin ID? i think its just catnipsims????? i could be wrong but i dont use the gallery anyway....

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? oh thats a difficult question 😭😭 id say @pralinesims, @simandy, @clumsyalienn, and @marsosims !!!!!!!!!!

23. How long have you had a simblr? since summer of 2019 i think???? yes i was 12 dont bully me

24. How do you edit your pictures? editing???? never heard of her.... no but i use photoshop for whatever minor adjustments i want to make through liquify and adjusting contrast and whatnot

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? any occult related anything will fullfill my sim creating needs 🤭🤭

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? since im so rarely in live mode i dont really have any opinion on gameplay ghihuighruie but i really really love the aesthetics of snowy escape in like every aspect but gameplay (cas, buildbuy, world etc.)

tag @barbieaiden, @marsosims, @eva-andsomenumbers, @avornalino, @woosteru, @ravensim, @wastelandwhisperer / @adrasteamoon, @radical-sims, & @chelseasasimmer and anyone else who i forgor 😭😭 sorry my brain is not the best

[consistent-self-destruction]

oh wow, the last time i posted was basically exactly a year ago lol.

well both a lot and nothing's changed much, i'm back to b emo again so that alone should say enough without saying anything

if anything things have gotten WORSE lmfao, i'm literally not supposed to be here right now but unfortunately the attempt fucking failed

nobody tells you how embarrassing that is - how did you fail at everything INCLUDING trying to kill yourself LMFAO, LIKE DAMN YOU REALLY CANT WIN

okay im being silly to cope but idk. when i got in touch with my counselor after it happened, she asked how much i wanted to be alive here on a scale from 1-10, with 10 being i literally wanna die right now in this instant, and 1 being miraculous healing and lifetime peace. the first day after i told her 8.5. three days later i said 3. it's a few weeks later now, and ive realized that my answer to the question has been sliding up and down everyday.

this is not even what i wanna talk about, i don't know how i ended up talking about that lol. anyway actually wait ANOTHER sb but artists im obsessed with rn: ka$hdami and 6arelyhuman okay moving on now ummm im trying so hard to be a 1 on that scale and maintain optimism and hope but like things keep going wrong and everything keeps irritating me and i genuinely feel like shit and i dont want to feel like shit because freaking 2014 just started, the year just started but unfortunately i am not optimistic about this year at all - i can't predict what will happen or how it will go or feel, everything is uncertain and im tired of being so unsure and incapable and it makes me want to leave earth because it's all just so tiring and now im just rambling hhhhh

to gather my thoughts coherently.. im bleeding out my fucking gooch. my charger is broken and wont charge my phone unless it's at an angle. my back camera is broken, my phone's been having storage issues, i don't feel pretty these days, i don't know what to do with my hair, it's freaking cold as hell in my house, i've got a sore throat, the only bathroom in the house with a bathtub has cold water so i can't take any soothing baths which is one of the best parts of being home, my sleep schedule is entirely in reverse, and i just feel so energetically exhausted. the house is a mess and my room is cluttered and my mom wants me to take down the christmas decorations, and i WANT to because cleaning makes me feel productive but i just don't have the stamina or ENERGY, like i feel physically sick and unwell and irritated and run down and incapable and i hate it so much, why is 2024 already off to the worst. and that's just in the present tense. in the future tense, like i said i am not optimistic about this year at all. i anticipate it being a really really difficult year and it makes me wanna cry because i don't wanna do it but i know i need to. you know how they say you have to get through the storm to see the other side? or some shit like that idfk, i dont wanna go through the storm! im so tired of the rain im so tired of being cold im so tired of goosebumps and anxiety and uncertainty and all of it !!!!!!! i've been trying to find my way through a storm for YEARS and it has not let up ONCE. i want to stop but i tried doing that and the universe just took me off pause and made me keep going, why couldn't they just let me join the stars. it would've been so much easier.

instead i have to stay here and try my best to heal and recover and work around my issues but i just can't imagine it, i can't imagine getting better i just don't see it. i can daydream about a version of myself that's better and stronger all i want, but i know in my heart that she'll never exist because i've been trying to be her for years and i just can't get there. i keep falling short. i keep failing. i keep taking L after L after L and im just. so. tired. i don't want to try anymore.

it's not always like this. sometimes there will be something that motivates me and makes me feel inspired to live again. but it always passes by and i come back to these feelings and this state. i keep falling back into this hole and it's such an exhausting up and down and back and forth.

the reason im here being emo again is i just feel like i can't talk to anyone about this. usually when i come back to this freaking blog that's the case. i always come back here when i have feelings that i need to release but i dont feel comfortable sharing with anyone. i don't wanna say anything on my spam because i don't want anyone to see all this negativity and darkness in me, and i don't want my close friends and innocent people to be randomly laden with this kind of depressing energy just as the year FRESH started and they're only casually scrolling their feed. you know what i mean? i hate scrolling my feed and seeing depressing shit. i don't wanna do that to my friends. i want peace and good vibes and good energy and a clean refreshing start to the year for them. i want them to be happy. i dont wanna post on my spam something that will gut their heart out, bring their mood down, and make them see me different. and it's the same with my best friend. not so much the last part cause they already know all these sides of me. and that is really relieving. but the only reason why i hold back from telling them this right now is because of the first reason - the year just started. they don't need this energy. we've already been having realtalks that are depressing enough. they dont need me calling them and texting them every time i feel depressed and manic and lost - that would be so shitty and i hate people who do that. it's energy stealing and self-centered. and for obvious reasons i don't talk to my family about these things. so i am left with this silly little blog, my beautiful void. oh how i love speaking into the void. it gives the illusion of speaking to someone without actually speaking to anyone. it's a perfect release.

but yeah idk, long story short im on my period, im sick with a sore throat, freezing in my house, feeling ugly and tired and incapable and irritated, with an inability to find optimism for the future and worst of all NO HOES! <;/3333

dude.. no because my love life is an entirely different type of pain. it's so... dude.

in the very least, i should be starting long-term therapy this year. that's the plan at least. my counselor gave me some recommendations, offices to call, and i have my dad's support. i'm gonna call in the numbers either tomorrow or thursday. i say this as "in the least" because even though i know it's supposed to be helpful, im not too optimistic about it. i don't like how many times i've used that word smfh. but im not - i don't really look forward to opening up about my 5 billion issues to a complete stranger. i have a hard enough time with the idea of how people perceive me. when i first started having sessions with my counselor, it really did not help because i didn't open up to her in the way i was supposed to. i told her surface level shit and sugar coated things instead of telling her the important things. im worried im only going to do that again. i don't like people seeing the worst of me - even when im PAYING them to see that side of me and when i NEED to show that side of me in order to FIX it. rahhhhhh. i also don't really look forward to it because i just see it as something large and overwhelming and unsolvable. my mental health that is. i don't look forward to tackling it in therapy. for only once a week? with that rate it's gonna take YEARS for me to figure myself out. and not only do i not have that kind of time, but it sounds so frustrating - slow agonizing progress, if any progress is made at all. im in such a pessimistic mood right now and i'm really not always like this - but this is also just the logical side of my brain. i just don't see it working out. i want it to. i want it to work badly - that's why we're going to try it. but i still am not optimistic about what the outcome will be and i am more daunted by the emotional and mental energy it will take out of me. i am second guessing if i should do school at the same time as therapy. i don't think any of this will go well. i only see myself getting consumed by things all over again - losing energy and motivation and time and getting depressed when everything goes wrong again. i think i might just also be scared by the process of healing. healing itself is not scary - but the process is terrifying. i don't trust it. i don't know if it will work. every time i thought i was healing i was just spiraling into a new unknown. the process of healing sounds so energetically draining, it sounds so deceptive, it sounds so emotionally torturing, it sounds fake, and it sounds incredibly time consuming and i already am NOT in time's favor. so i guess that's why i am not optimistic about this year - because i already know what the theme is. i already know what my focus is. this year for me, is all about healing and learning myself better. learning how to overcome my worst habits, my worst thoughts and emotions, and navigate situations that trigger them. this year is intended to be the year i start therapy. the year i put my mental health in the spotlight after years of trying to navigate it and figure it out on my own. i know the fact that im going to have professional support and guidance is supposed to be encouraging, but im so focused on the fact that there is so MUCH i need support and guidance with - and i need to tackle all of it once a week.. while in school... engaging with the very environment that deeply triggers me as i try not to be triggered, figure out ways around being triggered, SUCCEED at not getting triggered so i can therefore succeed in my academic environment, AND also figure out ways to make money on my own on the side. and that's not even going into deeper detail. idk, i just have so many needs to meet, and a billion things on my mind - obligations, responsibilities, needs, and they're all scrambled up in this big black scribble in my brain that's so thick i can hardly see through to the other side. and i don't like that blockage. i don't like that lack of foresight and clarity. i don't like the uncertainty. it makes me nervous and hesitant and resistant. i want to resist this year and this life so badly.

but all in all im just so tired. as always. it never goes away. the rage and frustration and exhaustion it just never goes away and i just really want a long long hug and a nice backrub.

please.

- 1.3.24 | 1:05 AM -

[lowpolyshadow]

sonic frontiers review go!!!! (non spoilers then MASSIVE spoilers under the cut) TLDR overall score: i would say it's an objective solid 8/10, but for me personally i just. i just had so much fun. 10/10

gameplay (combat/bosses) 9/10 gameplay (cybers) 6.5/10 gameplay (shmovement) 8/10

i fucking Love. Comboing Shit For Video Game Combat. it's Fun. it's Exciting. I Love That Shit. excellent combat system, i just wish either skills were harder to unlock or there were just more to unlock (preferably the latter i guess, but i can't think of anything i want ... added ... it's just that skill points are so easy to come by and i maxed out the tree pretty fast, so i have a bunch of excess points for nothing. tbf i have a LOT of excess EVERYTHING but)

bosses were fucking excellent. THE highlights imo. mob fights and stuff are fine, everything manages to be its own puzzle which i adore but mini bosses and bosses are the shit. the cyberlevels are fun genuinely but either too short to get into, have some jank physics in a couple of them, or . well some of them aren't that fun GJKLASDF but i didn't hate them! ive only played sa2 so i only recognized those ones + the Super iconic ones (chemical plant and all that) and that probably affects judgement since blind reacting to a sonic stage is the fun part imo

they're ridiculously easy (to... me at least) though. besides 1-2's s rank which i finally got, i was able to get all four missions done for every cyber level within one sitting ... on average like . 3 tries per i'd say (blind first, going back for any red rings or ring reqs, and then speed) with some taking a few more for speed but never more than like. 10-20 min tbh. in general i almost want a very hard mode bc the game overall was a very chill time, which is fine but sometimes i want my shit rocked

parries being Not timing based both threw me off (bc i would try to let go at the exact time when in fact you just hold it) and made them feel a little less ultra cool since sonic will just hold the parry for as long as ... you do, essentially (though there is heavy end lag on it so if you don't parry anything that's at least punished) it's a minor tryhard gripe where i wish there was like a PARRY parry i could toggle or smth

i like being sonic in a big environment it's just fun. the amount of fucked up shit you can do is great, he truly is a prime candidate for bigass open areas (and he controls pretty nicely, just got a couple weird moments and things like he goes into 'trick' mode too easily or some platforming things don't work the way they're supposed to bc you go too fast lol)

story…… 8.5/10 characters 10/10 i like them :)

character writing was absolutely the highlight for me this game, good banter, many quips, overall just characterization i adore and love to see i was well fed this game with my beloved little scrimblos it was a good time

the story itself went pretty hard ngl, a lot more lore than i expected and generally it was sonic taking its ridiculous plot seriously again which is all i wanted !!!! it's like somehow ridiculous but probably the most straightforward story they've done in a while, but that's not a bad thing. good story i pogged a few times

music 11/10 straight bangers they just don't fucking miss

i don't think i have much spoiler stuff i'd wanna say other than i genuinely think they hyped themselves too much at the start. like the gameplay was fun learning how it works, how movement goes, the setup and everything etc. etc. i always 100% the map first thing as soon as i can then go through for anything i need/pick stuff up along the way and then i do the boss fight

and that first boss fight. is so fucking sick. oh my god. i felt like. if i was 12 and played this and got to experience that boss fight the way i did now it would've literally changed the trajectory of my life. it DID change the trajectory of my life right now at 23 it was just pure hype, i was so giddy, i had the biggest fucking grin i was literally ready to physically pop off yelling LETS GOOOOO i just let the little tutorial popup chill while i head banged to the song like dear fucking god dude. INSANE intro they set the bar way too high off the bat

wyvern/second boss was perhaps my favorite mechanically just bc it really goes at you the most, you gotta react a lot and parry a lot to get through the fight which is Fun .... giganto/first boss tho. easily the most memorable experience in gaming that i've had in years. it was just so phenomenally done, probably biased bc it's the first one but shadow of the colossus-ing your way up to his fucking head to get the emerald, turn into super sonic, hear that FUCKING SONG

but this game has sonic be so fucking anime and that means knight/boss 3 easily has the best fucking finisher when sonic picks up a sword the size of the island itself and does the most anime cut in half shot he possibly can god it was so fucking SICK THIS GAME IS SICK SONIC IS THE COOLEST

the story weakness imo is the ending where they had so much build up but not a Ton of payoff, not even talking about sonic like essentially dying in soul/mind and then being revived with friendship (based tbh) but like the last boss fight and last islands just weren't nearly as cool as the others imo .... supreme was a lil similar to giganto and went by a lot faster than expected, probably bc by that point sonic's probably juiced up from upgrades (i went all in on attack no defense too lol sooo) ... i love a good bullet hell but i wanted a super cool super sonic fight, a hyper sonic fight, something that lets me go to town and see a fucking Spectacle

fun bullet hell but that wasn't what i'm HERE for (also finally hearing im here was sick but the fight itself really was so short/not quite as hard or anything innovative that it.... ehhh .... plus it was oddly quiet compared to the other songs i think, like, the sound mixing)

the ending feels a liiiittle rushed? The End is cool as a concept especially with how fucked up we know it is but i dunno, it really does feel like it blew the load a little too early and the ending just didn't live up to earlier hype/expectations

but it was still fun it just. it just didn't make me Feel the way giganto did, the way wyvern did, knight was where the hype started dropping off a liiiittle but knight was still a fucking SHOW where sonic beats a mf with his own shield AND THEN BLOCKS A SWORD BIGGER THAN MOUNTAINS WITH HIS OWN FUCKING HANDS THEN USES IT AGAINST HIM ITS' SIK IT'S SICK the final boss didn't have any truly THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME bits that really let you walk away going YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH and that's the part they need to fix

also no boss rush :/ brings the score down tbh i want to relive these things so fucking bad

the character relationships were soooo good though i just. gughugh. i don't want to get emo again but GOD they're such good friends they love and care about each other, i'm obsessed with amy saying how sonic loves the world and he has so much love to show because it's true sonic just LOVES living he loves life he loves getting to just Be and

tails is growing up on him faster than he expected .... uuu ....

and the fucking SONIC AND KNUCKLES BAYBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAH BUTTING HEADS SNARLING AT EACH OTHER LAUGHING AND GIVING FIST BUMPS AND TALKING SHIT THEY WERE SO GOOD YEAHYEAHYHEAY MOTEHRFUCKING KNUCKLES SWEEP BABY LETS GOOOO

god. so good. so fucking good. this is a game about love (sonic and his friends, eggman and sage of all people, the koco and their. selves? their history?, even chaos technically ....) and who am i if not a fucking Sucker for that shit. lets show that creep the real super power of team work

i did not actually hear vandalize in game yet because that is apparently only if you go into the final fight on easy or normal (i played to completion on hard exclusively) but the "true" ending song by nate goddamn wants to battle is INCREDIBLY sonic. one way dream is soooo reach for the stars/endless possibilities. it just makes me Feel happy. it's a little melancholic the way all of frontiers sort of is, but it's still hopeful and all about like. going forward. overcoming anything in your path and getting better for it and seeing the start of another new adventure and that sure is sonic the hedgehog

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[cheezyballs7]

Can you do a diluc x male reader please

Plote line ig: diluc and reader started dateing and donna got jealous

Idk i just like to make fun if donna cuz why not please and thanks

Hey anon! Sorry its taken so longg ive just been very busy- thanks for the request tho!

and omg yes pls I want jealous donna so bad- idk why but still. Also sorry i got so confused on the pov that I just did second- ik- unoriginal but anyways, i hope you enjoy and that this was everything you were hoping for :)

(this ended up kinda short and bad but oh well-) Diluc x Male reader

————————————————————————

Diluc had been admiring you for a while now. Ever since you’d first stepped into Angel's share he was swept away by your beauty. The way your eyes sparkled under the dim lights of the tavern. The way you spoke with such confidence, the way you moved with such grace. Everything about you made him fall in love with you.

At first Diluc thought you didn’t think of him as anything more than your bartender. But then one day you asked him out.

After a few dates the two of you had decided to make things official and announce that you were together. Most people congratulated you two but others hadn’t taken the information quite that well.

Like donna.

Walking into mondstat donna would be your first sight. Sighing, you decided that instead of ignoring her again you’d ask her why she seemed to despise you so much. “Hello donna,”

“Hmph.” She turned her head to the side and refused to speak with you.

“Donna, do we have a problem? Did I do something wrong?” “Of course we have a problem! How dare you take Diluc! He was supposed to be mine!”

She looked like she was about to burst, whether it be that she would tackle you, cry or scream, something was going to happen.

“Do you know how long I’ve loved him?? I’ve been working at a floral shop just so I could give him flowers, and then you walk in all handsome and fancy claiming you're from Liyue or something and not even 2 months later you're dating?” Donna screamed.

You didn't know what to tell the heart broken girl. You loved diluc and he loved you. There wasn’t all that much to it. But there stood a very angry person, jealous of what you and Diluc had.

“I’m sorry donna, I can't do anything about it though,”

She just looked at you angrily one more time before strutting back off to whatever she was doing before.

Later on, you were helping Diluc close up Angels share for the night when you decided to bring up donna and how you didnt think you were good enough for him.

That he should have someone like Donna instead.

“You are the most special, amazing, handsome, kind and outgoing man I could ever ask for. Don't ever say you're not good enough. And I would never wish for anyone other than you,” Diluc said as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Thank you Diluc”

[grapesodatozier]

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie���s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

[komoreangel]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

[rrasado]

Hello Rras-san, if you have a free time, can you please do a TW headcannon request. Please do a headcannon of the dorm leaders meeting GN! MC’s mother, who is similar to Lady Dimitrescu, with the towering height and glowing eyes. I’m curious about what’s their reaction. Thank you and stay safe.

Meet the Mother

I’m also praying for them at this point dkdndj ive only ever seen Lady Dimitrescue in like clips and tiktoks but I know fully well she’d slice me in half.

When they meet your mom

As someone who also has an intimidating mother, he’d likely be less as shaken as the other dorm leaders dkdn. He really has to look up just to meet her gaze and when he does well..he wasn’t sure what the safest option should be

It’s more on how he meets her in my opinion, if it was planned and on purpose then a little mental pep talk would save him BUT, once he comes face to face with her. Boy would he feel tiny. Like an ant or a door mouse I suppose

“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you madam”

Would momentarily forget how to speak given the sudden chill Riddle would feel once his simple gaze locks with glowing orbs but hey he’ll get used to it djdjd

Knowing how much moms can be scary, he’d makes sure to watch what he says with Mc’s mother regardless. Even if she does offer a cup of tea to the redhead.

Leona can easily go both ways but both routes end up with him just- immediately straightening up his posture because hand to god his already tall stature isn’t enough to measure up with MC’s mother.

Oddly enough, the initial fear and intimidation becomes subtly respect and admiration. Unlike in his home where beast women were revered for their strength. Your mom was normal in biology yet..has twice the effect

“Your mom...?. Nice to meet you I guess..”

Don’t take his reluctancy to answer as hesitance, as a beast one should survey their situation, he’s just testing the water and how much exactly he can dip. More so when his senses all seek to hyphen when your mother looks at him with that killing gaze of hers.

Suffice it to say Leona is the second to take it calmly, you’ll know who’s the first later on dkdn. Tho it would explain to him why you yourself have little to no fear in this school.

Azul, is on the caught off guard side, more specifically- he thought and normal height was exclusive to fae and merfolk so hoW TF- please excuse his sudden faltering he needs time to process.

His first instinct is well, treat her like how he treats the tweels...if the tweels were women and stand at an astonishing 9ft height-

“My my it’s quite the prestige to meet you Madam~”

Behind that cover up of an introduction is an irked octo who feels like a guppy and would rather sink in his octopot. He’ll do what he does best and make do with the situation, perhaps he can use this opportunity to his advantage who knows..

What he does know is that, fear and bigger people aren’t only from the depths. Literally.

Kalim Kalim tut tut tut our dear sunshine please calm down- he likely has a habit of, always meeting someone in eye contact, but the one time he regrets this is when he meets gazes with your mom.

When he looked it felt like he was pulled out or something? He’d never admit it but it was like when he was staring at Jamil during his overblot. Except in this case it’s well...normal. And not of danger?

“Nice to meet you! Would you like anything?”

He’ll use his hospitality to make up for whatever initial slip up he’s made so far. There’s something about your mother that makes him wanna..be decent to at the very least. He has good Intuition when the situation calls for it and this was one of those times.

By the end of the day he’ll compliment your mother for the powerful aura she gives off. To which it’s met with an all knowing smile.

Vil, we all know he’s an actor, someone who’s been in the entertainment industry for so long. Which by extension means he’s seen his fair share of extreme things.

But a behemoth woman wasn’t one of them, especially one without effects nor magic nor special blood whatsoever- no no darling he isn’t scared maybe shaken but he uses his skills to put on the charm and try deflecting your mother’s naturally intimidating aura with a charismatic smile.

“It’s quite the honor to meet your presence Miss.”

A dash of charm here and there and you got the two getting along nicely, Vil even using his vast knowledge of beauty cosmetics and ways to intricately form viable compliments to your mother to which she finds amusing.

But when your mother leaves you’ll Shiite literally see him stopping to catch a breathe, it seems keeping up charisma also takes toll on the star. He’ll admit..now he knows here your beauty comes from. But that’s what he hears from rook anyways..

Idia for some reason I’d feel like. He is fuming on the spot not out of fear but more on admiration cause, as common as tall people are in his family assuming his height is from genes. It’s rare to find tall people in the norm.

She really does remind him of a lot of characters from franchises he follows. But his anxiety knows better than to start rambling about the comparison to your ever glowering mother

“H-hi- great seven I c-can’t-“

You’ll have to ease him of his nerves, he really doesn’t know how to handle the feeling because he really is torn between that anxiety and admiration. Better idea to also bring Ortho along if he does meet your mother.

He is tall as well but he still needs to look up and try not to collapse from the glowing gaze and ever amused smirk on your mom’s face. It feels like he’s being looked down on which he literally is but he also doesn’t wanna just run away out of fear of disrespecting her.

Ahhh yes, the unbothered one, well to be specific the “curious” one. MC are you sure you are not part fae or your family having history of one? How peculiar...

In short malleus is the best person to introduce your mother with given how normal he treats her to which your mother finds nice for a change of pace, yes she may still have to look down a bit to meet his gaze but honestly I think malleus has the capacity to make himself taller if it’ll make your mother more comfortable.

“I presume this is much better for us Miss”

A true gentleman through and through. The only reason he isn’t as fazed as the others is because of how much he’s already seen through his lifetime. But still that is not to say your mother is a norm oh no no no far from it in his book.

After all that gaze of hers wasn’t something normal even for him. Perhaps the nice chat you’ll all share will clear things up? Maybe so.

[technowoah]

Revolutions Always Fall

You should've learned from L'Manburg. The Butcher Gang was a mistake.

- REQUESTED!

- I tried to put 2 requests in one here.

- its really long 🤧🤞🏽

Prompts!

13) "You made me lose all my faith and trust in you"

38) "They warned me about this.” “About what?” “You.” 

47)“Are you satisfied now...?”

⚠︎ memtions of blood, voilence, fighting, swearing, Technoblade's execution episode. Angst.

Masterlist!

Dear Technoblade,

I wont make the same mistakes again

- an old friend. ♤

Technoblade was always a threat, and you learned that from L'Manburg. You had befriended him when he joined Pogtopia and very quickly you two seemed to click. He saw the world through different eyes and that intrigued you. You wanted to be him, live life the way he does it for just a day.

He was a killing machine, he was smart tactical, but still had the thirst for blood that made him be so smart and tacitcal with how he kills.

You on the other hand were not a big fan of killing, but this war was an exception. This war made you practice, it made you angry, it lit a fire underneath you that you didnt know you had. Along with the other members of Pogtopia, Technoblade helped you fight, how to wield a sword, knife, gun, anything that you can get your hands on you turned it into a weapon, you Soon enough you had mastered weapons and you werent so passive.

You questioned yourself if this was living through Technoblade, the need to fight, hunt, to protect. You felt poweful. As you hold your own crafted swords in your hand you know what you can do. You could do so much damage with this sword, he gave you that sword. It wasn't special at all but you made it special, because in your eyes it was.

"You can do so much with a sword, people just don't know how to use it to its fullest potential. They dont know their full potential either. But now you do."

Thats what he said to you in between those stone walls called Pogtopia.

After what he said to you had done so. Used the sword to your full potential, used anything to your full potential. You wanted to be more and more you became.

"You ready?" Technoblade smirked.

"Hell yeah Im ready to kill that bastard." You smiled

"Woah-oh! You weren't saying this a couple months ago."

"Schlatt deserves it. That's not L'Manburg. This is L'Manburg." You stretched out your arms to the others who were gathering armor and polishing their weapons for the battle yet to come.

You smiled knowing this will all end soon, you wouldn't be in a cave anymore, you wouldn't have to hide the fact that you knew where Wilbur was and that he was planning the attack, Pogtopia will be no more and L'Manburg would be back.

"L'Manburg will be back." You said while taking a sword out of a chest.

"Sure." You heard him scoff beside you.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked slightly offended. Wasn't he fighting for the same thing?

"I dont know. Revolutions always fall." He turned his back to you and walked away leaving you to your own thoughts.

You hated it. He was right, he was always right and you hated it. And everyone else did too, they knew he was right. It wasnt what the majority wanted, we wanted L'Manburg while he didn't want to be held by government in the first place. That's what he meant that day in Pogtopia.

L'Manburg, one defeated, was now growing once more. After the "end" of L'Manburg you couldn't forgive him. Your anger and the feeling of betrayal kept growing and growing everyday, every time you picked up that damned sword he gave you. It was the best sword you had, you had enchanted it multiple times. You had to use it, but the only thing was the memories that came with it.

Your anger only worsened as time went on, having to hear about Technoblade and how he was such a threat to L'Manburg only made you want to destroy him and the past you two had created. That would be the closure you needed, but someone was already three steps a head of you.

In spite of your anger you and Quackity had the most magnificent idea to make a gang to finally kill Technoblade for the sake of L'Manburg. The idea was to go confront him at his house and take him back to L'Manburg for an execution. You were on board with the idea 100%. This was better for L'Manburg and better for yourself, finally someone who got you.

Quackity and you planned tirelessly to try and get Technoblade's location and bring him back. The Butcher Gang was made from the cabinet of L'Manburg. During these long days you two grew closer, you two were so different in ways of thinking, but you two shared the same end goal which worked out in your favor. You two went through hell and back just to find out that the easiest way to get to Technoblade was sitting in L'Manburg right at that moment. Philza, some may say Technoblade's only friend at the moment. He was loyal to Technoblade and you dont blame him at all, but you needed to find out where his companion was.

It was all going well, the Butcher Gang had put Phil on house arrest and Tubbo had found a compass that led them straight to Technoblade's location. Everything was going well and according to plan, you didnt want to show it on your face as you saw Technoblade's house from the spot in the woods the Butcher Gang was hiding in, but you wanted this so badly. You didnt where he was going to be, he could've came and bestowed more destruction. It was like knowing he was there, but not knowing when he was going to strike.

The anxiety that came with not knowing where Technoblade was always with you, but now it wont be.

The Butcher Gang ended up taking Technoblade by force back into the city. You were proud that you were all able to get the blood hungry pig-man to come back with you all. He was behind bars with an anvil hanging high over his head. As Tubbo gave his speech your short lived happiness soon faded as a man appeared and smoke filled the area. You started to get attacked by what seemed like Dream and Punz while Tubbo continued to yell for Quackity to pull the lever to finally kill Technoblade.

"Pull the lever Big Q!"

"Kill him Quackity!" You yelled with him.

He did it. The anvil fell fast towards Technoblade's body, but as fast as the anvil landed on him his skin, bones, and blood regenerate and return to its normal state. Your eyes widened as the totem in his hand began to disintegrate into gold dust.

"DAMMIT!" You yelled in agony while Ranboo and Fundy continued to fend off Dream and Punz until they retreated.

Once they did you realized Technoblade was gone, you saw him in the distance running away from the scene, but you couldn't let this happen. You couldn't let the fear of Technoblade being out there doing God knows what forever. The fear of him boiled in your heart as you broke out into a sprint towards Technoblade.

As you ran into a more secluded area you heard footsteps behind you. You glances back to see Quackity following your lead with an axe in his hand. Slowing down a bit you both ran side by side.

"Let's get this son of a bitch!" Quackity huffed as you both came across a cave.

You both knew Technoblade was in there so you both prepared for the mental and physical pain you would both endure. This wasn't like the Butcher Gang where it was 5 against 1, it was 2 against 1 and you've seen Technoblade fight this fight before.

"You ready to kill this bastard?" He calmed his breathing down.

"Of course I am." You kept your eyes foward.

You walked deep into tha cave to see 6 chests and a sign that said "final control room", that bastard. Wanting to be quiet you tried to sneak up on Technoblade, but Quackity's anger got the best of him.

"What the fuck is this Technoblade?! What the hell are you doing here?" He asked gripping his sword too tight.

"It not what it looks like." Technoblade airly laughed. He had an enchanted pickaxe in his hand and an open chest with netherite armor.

"How the hell did that anvil not kill you?!" Quackity yelled.

Technoblade started laughing, he was laughing, he was taunting us. "Do you really think that death can stop me? That you could kill me that easily."

Your emotions tried to get the best of you as you tried not to let frustrated tears fall onto your cheeks.

"How did you do it? What... How did you even do that?"

"You think that can stop me Quackity?" Technoblade asked again.

"Just answer the fucking question!" You yelled before either of them could speak. It was silent for a while before Technoblade slowly spoke up.

"A totem. I used a totem of undying. I always have it on me." He smugly said.

He continued on. "You know what?! You know what? Ive got a lot to say, I was gonna say it at the trial, but we got a little bit interrupted. You know I tried convincing you guys that government was not the answer, the government was actually the cause of all your problems!"

You rolled your eyes as he continued his infamous speech.

"I tried to convince you guys by fighting alongside you as brothers and you cast me aside, you used me. I tried to use force, but you still formed a government! And when I went into hiding, when I retired, when I swore off violence, you hunted me down, you hurt my friends." Technoblade finished.

"Techno you dont understand what we're fighting for!" You started finally finding your voice. "I thought you were for us! You were always against us!"

"I was always for you! I needed you guys to understand!"

"We needed YOU to under-"

Technoblade interrupted you. "You dont understand me! You never did!"

"At least I fucking tried and you gave me so much shit for it! I wanted to be you Technoblade. I wanted to see life through your eyes, I was fascinated by how you walk, fight, your mind."

Your anger began to subside as you continued to speak. "But, you made me lose all my faith and trust in you."

Technoblade laughed again. "Same here! You guys left me! Betrayed me so-"

"So the feeling is mutual." You growled.

It was quite for a minute, but you could feel Quackity's sympathetic stare as you poured your feelings out to a man who dosen't even matter to you.

"They warned me about this." Your arms gestured to the area the three of you were in.

"About what?" Technoblade scoffed.

"About you." You stared at Technoblade. It wasn't a glare, it was more calm.

"Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy...Even Ranboo." You airly chuckled.

You had stopped talking trying to get yourself back together. Quackity caught that you weren't talking anymore so he spoke up.

"What we have up there is a country and what we need here is organization and power. And I dont care how long it fucking takes me or what I have to do to get you Techno. Im going to fucking kill you. Im going to kill you Technoblade." Quackity gripped his axe in his hand.

"I just have one question Quackity." Techno smirked.

"What do you have?" Quackity responded and you took the sword out of the sheath hanging on your hip.

"Do you think you two are enough to kill me? Even unarmed with iron armor?" Technoblade closed the chest that held netherite armor signaling he didn't need that. "Do you think you both could take me?"

"Oh we do." You spoke up. "We need this, Technoblade."

"You know what?" Quackity rose his axe and you followed suit. "Lets find out you son of a bitch!" He charged towards Technoblade and you followed close behind.

Technoblade started running out of the long cave, but you two followed. He threw potions on the ground as he turned around and fought us head on. You were able to get a couple of cuts and hits on him, but he was cutting you more with his pickaxe.

The thing about Quackity was that he thought he was invincible. He kept going full force towards Technoblade, hopefully he would focus on him so you could finally get a critical hit on him. Your heart rate kicked up as your face came too close to his pickaxe. And it kept going, each swing he took towards you became closer and closer until Quackity slashed his arm with his axe.

Technoblade whipped his head his way. "I have a pickaxe and I'll put it right through your teeth!"

Technoblade swung his axe and slashed Quackity's face, including his eye. He then turned his pickaxe to the flat side and swung it, hitting the side of his head. The blow to his head sent him flying against one of the walls of the cave, knocking him out.

He then turned to you and in a flash you could tatse the metal of his pickaxe as it swiped across your face blinding one of your eyes as well as Quackity's. He had hit you on the side of the head like he did with Quackity. Your body was aching as you fell to the ground, your mind slowly shutting down. You were loosing a lot of blood quickly, and so was Quackity. You two knew you were going to find the strength to get out of this cave and follow Technoblade's path out.

You laid on the cave's cold floor realizing that this was a mistake. You were too loyal, easily swayed, you were a follower. You never knew when to stop, from L'Manburg to Pogtopia to The Butcher Gang you seeked things you couldn't have. You couldn't have L'Manburg, neither Pogtopia, you couldn't kill Technoblade and ease your fears snd anxieties. You need to seek that some where else.

Your mind began to slip, and you fell into unconsciousness.

You should've learned. He was right. Revolutions always fall.

The Butcher Gang was a mistake.

Dear Technoblade,

I remembered the day. It still pains me. The day you spawned those wither. I thought you were the traitor, but turns out I was wrong at the time. Im sorry for that.

I also remember when you left me for dead. But I made it out as you see.

But now I am resigning from L'Manburg. Im going my own way, my own path, and I don't want you on my path.

Think of this as closure, something I never got. As I am writing this I dont know why I am giving you closure, lifting a weight off of your shoulders, you dont deserve it.

I know people say that to you alot.

You really made a dent in this damned place.

I hate what you're doing. You get to live in solitude while we get to live in the debris you left here. I wanted to be like you.

I hate to say it, but I learned a lot from you. I hated what I learned, about myself, about you, about the current state of this horrible place.

I wont make the same mistakes again

Are you satisfied now?

- an old friend ♤

[erin-bo-berin]

Prove It

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request of Spencer getting mad at being teased and being motivated enough to prove he’s not vanilla. This took forever from the time it was first requested for me to write and post it, so I’m so sorry to the anon who requested it. It feels like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve posted a smut too, so enjoy some smutty Spencer to start your week. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Word Count: 4,246

“I will never understand it.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

You sat down in one of the chairs in the jet, across from coworker and teammate Derek Morgan.

You and the team you were a part of, the Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU for short—of the FBI had just solved another case and were on the way home.

You’d seen plenty of sickos before, so another one didn’t seem to surprise you. Of course, it was disgusting and aggravating, horrifying and awful, but you never pretended to understand unsubs in the first place. So you were quite curious about what Morgan was thinking out loud about.

Spencer Reid plopped down in the chair next to you with his cup of coffee.

How the man managed to live off coffee and actually go to sleep was a mystery to you. At this point it would benefit him to just have his coffee injected into him through IV, that’s how much he consumed.

“This S&M stuff,” Morgan waved his hand, “It’s insane.”

The case they’d just recently closed had involved a guy who had taken his violent sexual desires a step too far and found himself turned on by actually murdering women. Whether it was by choking or gagging, somehow he’d discovered he got a sexual release from killing his female partners.

What started as auto erotic asphyxiation—something that was incredibly dangerous to begin with—had turned to something more sinister and even more deadly.

“When done right, it’s actually not as bad as some of these unsubs make us believe,” Spencer said.

“I’m sure you know all about it, don’t you kid?” Morgan replied, sarcastically.

“Anyway,” he continued, before Spencer could cut in again, “I’m not judging people who do it, it just seems like even when it’s done right, it’s too dangerous to even be exciting. It’d be a mood killer for me.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t bring out your dominant side every once and awhile,” you smirked, teasing him.

“Hey, I’m all for some good rough sex. I’m not as vanilla as pretty boy here, but I’m not about to emotionally and physically scar Savannah.”

“Hey! What’s that’s supposed to mean?!” Spencer protested.

Savannah was Morgan’s wife, now of three years. They had a son together, Hank. Being a parent according to Morgan, you didn’t get much “mommy and daddy time”, but even then, it didn’t stop him from shamelessly sharing details about his sex life. You got used to it; it was just a Derek thing anyway.

“Sure, I’ve done some tying up and spanking, but that’s mild compared to some practices in BDSM. I once asked Reid about it and unfortunately learned more than I ever wanted to about it.”

“Excuse me,” Spencer broke in, “What’s the vanilla remark supposed to mean?”

Both yours and Derek’s heads turned to see Spencer’s brows furrowed.

“Kid, vanilla ice cream is spicier than you,” Morgan teased.

“Oh come on, that’s not true!” Spencer retorted, exasperated.

“I’m sorry Reid, I just can’t imagine you being kinky. I mean do you just spout facts during sex or what?”

You held back a snicker although you heard the rest of the team chuckling.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer flushed.

You averted your eyes from his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for a little while, the team none the wiser to your relationship. You couldn’t quite defend him without giving it away.

It wasn’t really a secret per se, you just mutually decided not to say anything until it became more serious. You had only slept together a few times anyway, so it wasn’t like you were familiar with his sexual proclivities.

“You’re more vanilla than Vanilla Ice,” Morgan joked, making you choke on your sip of water, laughing.

“How would you know anyway?” Spencer crossed his arms, his face now a deep red, “I could be kinkier than you know.”

“Dude, when’s the last time you even slept with a girl?” Morgan asked with a raised brow, “Wasn’t it that bartender Austin from a case 11 years ago?”

Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t going to say anything and you knew it because it would give away yours and his personal business.

“That’s what I thought. Vanilla,” Derek laughed, standing to refill his tumbler with more whiskey, “Don’t worry Pretty Ricky, not everyone has to be an animal in bed.”

He patted Spencer’s shoulder as he walked by to head to the back of the jet—and the whiskey decanter.

You could tell by Spencer’s pursed lips that he was annoyed.

You promised yourself that when the jet landed, you would apologize.

•

You had been wrong.

Spencer wasn’t annoyed.

He was pissed.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you repeated for the hundredth time.

Once the jet had landed, everyone went their separate ways, so no one was the wiser when you’d climbed into Spencer’s car. You had spent more time at his place lately than your own, so you were heading back to his apartment with him.

The entire drive was filled with tense silence. His jaw stayed clenched all the way home.

“Spence, please talk to me. If I hurt your feelings, that wasn’t my intention.”

You followed him into his apartment, watching as he sat down his go bag and satchel by the door. You sat your own things near his, as well.

You didn’t miss how tense he was, indicating his anger.

“Spence-” you began, but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed,” he snapped.

You were taken back, unsure if you’d heard him right the first time.

“What?”

“I said, go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself. And don’t make me do it myself cause you will regret it.”

You stood frozen in place for a second, your mouth opening and closing. By the look on his face, you could tell he was serious. 

“O-Okay,” you stammered, walking backwards to the bedroom.

You had no idea what he had planned, but deep down, you could feel the tingle of excitement beginning to work its way to the surface. Maybe some rough sex would ease his anger.

You were out of your shirt and pants before you reached the bed. You pulled off your bra, letting it fall from your fingertips and then rid your underwear before climbing onto the bed like you were asked to do, laying back.

It was at least a good ten minutes before Spencer came into the room, with something in each hand.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer you. 

He sat what appeared to be a glass of ice on the nightstand and grabbed one of your wrists, starting to tie it to the bedpost with what you now realized was one of his ties.

You watched as he tied the opposite one before you spoke.

“Spence, I-”

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you unless I say to speak,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you.

His face lingered above yours, his lips not far from your own. He didn’t kiss you yet, but you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the anticipation of his lips finally being on yours making you anxious. 

His nose nudged yours gently as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lidded, although they occasionally flicked up toward yours. He knew how much you wanted him to kiss you and he was using that to his advantage.

Finally, it came, feather light. It was like kissing a cloud, the faint touch not nearly enough to satiate your needs. You tried to lean upwards to meet his lips again, taking what you wanted, what you needed, but he pulled out of your reach, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Oh so this is how it’s going to be?” you mock pouted.

“My bed, my rules,” he answered.

The anticipation of this kiss made your heart race and your breath hitch. If he was willing enough to deprive you this easily and this early on, what else was he capable of?

When his lips finally met yours, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner, considering you were currently tied to his bedposts. His mouth glided along with yours, the intensity picking up rather quickly. 

His hunger and anger seemed to meld into one as he kissed you roughly, pulling back enough to capture your lower lip between his, his teeth softly scraping over it. A small, satisfied sigh emitted from you, against his lips.

Your mouth parted as you continued to enjoy the feel of his mouth on yours, his tongue being both graceful and teasing at the same time, it moving swiftly over your bottom lip.

You were already struggling with your restraints, wanting to touch him as he kissed you. Normally, your touch was everywhere on him when you kissed. From his face to his shoulders and chest and in his curls, you ravished being able to touch him. But you didn’t have that luxury right now and it was absolutely killing you.

He pulled away, lips hovering over your jaw as he kissed it just slightly, ready to move on to other areas.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have more than enough proof that I’m anything but vanilla,” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against your throat.

Your thighs clamped inadvertently as you suddenly became even more turned on than you had been previously. He reached over you, towards the ice, grabbing a cube.

You watched him intently, gasping sharply when the shock of cold touched your skin, just along your collarbone.

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” he asked, sliding the ice cube along your chest.

You nodded eagerly, biting down on your lip as he moved the ice over the swell of your breast and across your nipple making them tighten, both from the cold and your arousal. His lips followed the trail of ice over your breasts, tongue moving out to encircle your nipple and flick it. He repeated it on the opposite side and you gave a moan of approval at his explorations.

A trail of water was left behind on your skin as he continued on, gliding the ice down the middle of your chest towards your stomach. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin at the continuous icy cold sensation.

“You’re so hot, you’re making the ice melt quickly,” he purred.

His touch left you as he reached back towards the nightstand to grab another cube. Apparently he’d been right, as the first cube had melted completely. 

Once the coolness touched your skin again you found yourself gasping. As tantalizing as this teasing was, you were extremely turned on by it. You could feel the heat within your body, your core already starting to pulsate with arousal.

“I really hate that I can’t touch you,” you groaned, tugging on your restraints.

“But that’s what makes it fun, sweetheart,” he grinned, placing a kiss on your stomach.

The ice cube moved down one of your sides, over your hip, where he gave it a playful squeeze. Then the cold hit the top of your thighs, his other hand gliding to the top of the opposite one.

You were desperate at the point and automatically widened the space between your legs. If anything, you were going to let him get a good view of just how wet you were.

His eyes flickered downwards then back up towards your face, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You squirmed, anxious for him to do anything.

“Problem, love?” he cooed.

You glared, arching your hips in an attempt to get some sort of contact.

He chuckled, spreading your legs further. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the ice moving over your outer lips definitely wasn’t it.

You hissed at the sudden cold, but you didn’t hate it at all. Not like you hated these fucking restraints. You cursed when he pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned.

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillow, tugging at your bound wrists again.

You wanted to push his head or his hands to your throbbing core; maybe both at this rate.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered.

“Okay,” he relented, sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been a good girl so far.”

He reached over you, pulling the knotted ties loose from around your wrists. It was like sweet freedom to you. 

Before you could even touch him, he’d taken a hold of you, rolling you over so you were straddling his stomach.

“Ooh, I’m in control? I like,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You didn’t quite make it to his lips.

“Think again.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs, roughly pulling you up to sit on his face. This, you hadn’t suspected.

“Oh god,” you moaned lowly as his tongue slid up your outer lips.

His hands held your thighs tightly and he wasted no time diving right in. His tongue flicked your clit and you had to grab a hold of the headboard just to make sure you didn’t collapse on top of him.

Of course oral sex had been a part of your sex life with Spencer prior to this, but never in this way. He was usually more timid about it. But right now, he went for it in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Fuck, Spence.”

You groaned, his lips circling your clit to suck on it briefly before releasing it with a tiny pop of his mouth. His tongue flicked over it again, alternating in speed and pressure.

You had thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt a finger slide into you. You could’ve sworn you almost lost your mind at that point. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, matching the now slower speed of his tongue that seemed to be licking everywhere but your clit.

“Dammit Spencer,” you groaned, slightly grinding against his mouth for some friction.

You jerked a bit, a surprised squeal coming from you when his hand came down on your ass. It wasn’t a bad reaction though, it had just excited you even more.

“Did you just spank me?!” you asked incredulously.

He hummed, sending a delicious vibration against your clit as his hand came down again on your ass making you moan loudly.

You had no idea there was this side to him.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes baby,” you whined, your hips moving back and forth over his face as his fingers and tongue drove you crazy.

The faster his fingers went, the harder his tongue moved. You were gripping the headboard so tight, your knuckles were white.

“Ah!” you squealed, at an additional spank.

It wasn’t hard enough to be too rough and painful, just hard enough to be incredibly sexy, sending a charge directly to your currently, extremely stimulated clit.

It was also incredibly appealing to you to feel the slight scratch of his facial hair against your nether regions as he ravished you. 

You could feel your entire body tensing, preparing for the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. Apparently, Spencer could too.

He worked you until you came shattering apart above him. His name mixed with a loud moan and curses sprinkled in.

When the high had ebbed a bit, he moved you back to sit on his stomach, a wolfish grin on his face. You still felt a bit dazed since there was still a bit of buzz left tingling within you.

You noticed then that your boyfriend was way overdressed.

“It’s time to do something about these,” you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

He allowed you to pull his shirt off, but his hand grabbed yours just as they reached for his belt.

“I am going to fuck you bent over my desk and only bent over my desk.”

He gave you no time to react as he’d already lifted you in his arms and stood from the bed, heading to the living room.

“Spencer, what? I-”

The words died on your lips as he entered the living room and his desk came into view. Normally, it was stacked neatly with his books, files, paperwork that he needed to complete, pens, pencils, a couple of coffee mugs, the works. But now, it was completely clear, showing off its deep, dark brown, glossy desktop.

Heat pooled in your stomach when you realized he’d planned ahead for this. He’d imagined bending you over his desk, having his way with you. You swallowed back a moan, already eager for him to be buried inside of you.

Instead of immediately pushing you over the edge of the desk, he sat you on top of it, facing him.

You bit your lip, quite literally looking up through your lashes at him. His tongue moved over his lips, his hunger for you apparent as his hands traced every inch of you.

From your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs and around towards your bottom, squeezing it gently, his hands traveled every part of you before capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was no innocent kiss. It was fiery and filled with the mutual hunger for one another. He was still kissing you when he slid you off the desktop, your feet touching the floor once again.

He turned you and had you bent over the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds. You heard the clink and whir of his belt as he unbuckled it, the sound alone sending a charge through you.

You shifted impatiently, much to his notice. He smirked, running a hand between your legs teasingly, as he pushed his suit pants out of the way with the other hand.

He wasted no time on gentle and loving movements. He entered you roughly and quite honestly, when you weren’t expecting it.

You whimpered. The feeling of your most intimate parts stretching just enough to accommodate him was one of the best feelings in the world to you. 

By this point, you’d lost the ability to be quiet. He’d already brought you to one earth shattering orgasm and that was after the tantalizing ice foreplay that had turned you on beyond belief.

Your constant moans filled the room as your hands gripped the edges of the desk.

Your hips were tight in his grip as he thrust into you fast and hard, your own body bouncing off his in the opposite direction. He, for one, was much louder than he normally was. Grunts, groans, mumbled curses and pants came from behind you as he had his way with you.

His lips hovered over your neck, his appraising moans ringing in your ears.

“Fucking shit, fuuuck, Y/N,” he groaned before attaching his lips to your neck.

He sucked harshly, hard enough to know that hickies would be present for the next few days.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the slight sting of his teeth bearing down into your shoulder, but coupled with your current pleasure, it was actually hot.

Your back arched as he focused on what he’d learned—quite quickly, you might add—was one of your absolute sweet spots, his hips aiding in thrusting deeply within you.

Spencer’s hand snaked up your spine, tangling in your hair, his fingers wrapping around a few strands. It surprised you when he pulled on it, firm enough to pull your head to the side. You moaned at the sensation, ready for him to do anything at this point. You were so turned on, you were a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

“Still. Think. I’m. Vanilla?”

Each of his words were clipped, growled into your ear and enunciated with a forceful thrust.

“No,” you rasped, quickly losing control of yourself and becoming delirious from the ecstasy he was providing you with.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he grunted, halting his movements completely.

You about sobbed in agony, wanting the feel of him back. Your hips automatically moved backwards to get some more friction, but Spencer held them still.

“Tell me,” he groaned, the slight strain in his voice indicating he was struggling with keeping still, himself.

You cursed, craving the delicious sensation of him deep within you again especially since you were on the brink of shattering like broken glass.

“Who’s not vanilla?” Spencer taunted.

He began moving once again, his motions slow and teasing. He slid in and out of you with long, lackadaisical thrusts although he made sure each move was deep enough so you could feel every inch of him within you. 

“Dammit Spencer, please,” you mewled, encircling your hips in small movements.

His low groan that came from above you was telling enough that he was trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Answer me,” he murmured huskily, his lips traveling up your back, hands reaching forward to massage your breasts in his hands.

“Answer me,” he repeated, “And I’ll fuck you like you deserved to be fucked.”

Your mouth dropped, a haggard moan escaping your throat. You weren’t used to hearing Spencer dirty talk and you’d realized that you instantly loved it.

His facial hair scratched your cheek as his mouth moved in the vicinity of it, sucking on your jaw.

“Be a good girl and answer me and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, baby girl,” his low whisper came, one hand gliding between your legs, finger ghosting your clit.

“I’ll make you cum harder than you even imagined. Until you’re dripping all over my cock. I wanna fuck my girl, good, Spencer purred.

“Oh my god,” you cried, the overstimulation of his words and his touch finally getting you to lose absolute control of your conscious mind.

“You, Spencer, you,” you moaned.

The only sounds that filled his living room were the mixed moans and the sound of your bodies moving together as he fulfilled his promise and resumed his earlier pace though more erratic this time.

Your inadvertent clenching around him with every move was making him lose control quickly. 

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you whined, clenching the edges of the desk so hard you knew your hands would be sore later.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you registered that you most likely sounded akin to a pornstar right now, though you didn’t spend much time on the thought. The fire in your veins was igniting the growing pressure in your stomach, like a furnace growing too hot.

It took less than a few moves before you went tumbling over the cliff of ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut, your vision going completely white behind your closed eyes as you managed out a satisfied, bliss filled cry.

It was like lightning had struck your body except the electricity had come straight from the pit of your belly. Spencer had been right, it was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced.

It was the body shaking, breathtaking, best kind of high ever, type of intense.

His own had soon followed as you’d tumbled down the rabbit hole of your own delirium. His hands gripped your sides and his body shuddered behind yours.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he groaned repeatedly, still moving with you, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of both of your orgasms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as you arched back into him, reaching behind him to grip his hair as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

It took a few moments before both of you stilled, your breathing hard, heart beating wildly. 

When your senses had somewhat turned to normal and the rushing of your blood in your ears had calmed down, you noticed your legs shaking—a definite sign of a good fucking.

You felt his breath on your neck, his breathlessness matching your own. Your body felt slick against his from all of the exertion, but it had been totally worth it. 

Spencer pushed your hair to one side of your neck, burying his face into your neck sweetly before leaving a gentle kiss there.

“My god, Spencer,” you half laughed, trying to focus the tiny bit of energy you had left on attempting to stand.

Disconnecting himself from you, he turned you to face him. He lifted you back on to the desktop to sit, not caring that your thighs were currently slick with the product of his own orgasm. Your quivering legs were thankful for the momentary reprieve though.

“I know,” he smirked, “Didn’t know I had it in me, huh?”

“Definitely not,” you smirked, lifting your face up towards his.

Your lips met his lazily. You spent a few minutes enjoying one other, mouths parting and meeting over and over, enjoying the post coital consequential kisses before getting cleaned up.

His hands splayed over the tops of your thighs, stroking gently. He may have been rough with you earlier, but you knew his gentle touch was him wordlessly assuring himself you were okay.

You were actually more than okay—you had definitely been well fucked.

“Spencer?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Hmm?”

He pulled away from you, his eyes opening, his dreamy, currently hazy, hazel eyes meeting yours. 

“Remind me to never listen to Morgan ever again.”

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