#thank u for ur kindness :D

[neetily]

I'm so happy you're back! When I couldn't find you on ao3, I was crying to my boyfriend about the whole thing. I'm genuinely relieved to find you safe and sound. I adore your fics and honestly it introduced a new fav tag because no one else can write about magically linked pocket pussy like you do lmao

It's a niche kink so I'm hoping to request it. Oh, and welcome back!

im so sorry for making u cry omg... hope you're doing better now !!! im so much safer and doing so much better now, i can't wait to write for everyone again :D !!

i love the magic pocket pussy tag tbh. i found out about it through... osomatsu-san fanfics of all places lmao. i've been obsessed with it ever since... so happy to meet another enjoyer...

are there any other request details you want to send my way before i default to something you might not enjoy? like what character you want, any other details etc? hmu :D

[fatuismooches]

Hiii, after reading a part of your fragile!reader brainrots (which are absolutely amazing and original) I thought about how the reader would reach when meeting the traveler or even Nahihi because Dottore isn't a big fan (obviously) and in my mind he likes blames the gods so how would the reader be like? Would they be angry, understanding? I can think about a lot of different scenarios

Anyway have a great day/night! ^^

Fragile reader interacting with Traveler and Nahida rots my brain often. I think I already have quite a few brainrots/a fic about you meeting Traveler, but overall, you dislike them. Obviously, they're an enemy of the Fatui, and you know agents under Dottore who were hurt by them that you liked a lot. They also got Signora killed indirectly, and while you weren't the closest with her, you respected her will to go on even after her husband's death. Something you weren't sure you'd be able to do. Fragile reader would like to toy with and mock the Traveler, only being cordial to them if Dottore would like them to for the sake of business. However, perhaps there are some times when the Traveler would catch them accidentally being vulnerable.

Nahida, on the other hand, well, you'd rather not even think of her. Especially if we're following the canon timeline where Dottore deletes his segments (I reject it in my heart) Reader wouldn't even be able to be in the same room as Nahida. The only God you pay any respect to is Her Highness the Tsaritsa for what she has done for you and Zandik. While Dottore isn't outwardly hostile to her, you don't cut any words. You refuse to be polite. Not just because you hate the Gods for cursing you with this illness, it hurts your heart to see Dottore rejected from his homeland so blatantly.

However, Nahida would be very curious about you. She finds that you are similar yet different from the Doctor. He's purely logical, yet you're good at reading emotions and people. The Archon wants to know what someone like him sees in you. What you see in him. Because she couldn't figure out the answer by herself.

[eightyuh]

i'm so glad the group chat agreed w me after sharing this aosidfjuiosdfhiuahfoas

[updatingranboo]

ranboo is currently wearing an R800 mc skin :D

credit goes to the lovely sirvee_ on twitter!! give them some love <3

[achirding]

[chwejongho-archive]

❄️your winter gift has arrived, @secnghwa!❄️

a series of gifts for mutuals through december!

[seumyo]

eeuuummyy just wanna tell you that i heart heart hearttt you sm. you tried your best and that's all it matters. love you lots, don't forget to drink water n get lots of rest!! bakugo loves u

Senniee 🥹

[goodlucktai]

thank you for pulling me through

one piece pairing: brook & luffy word count: 2k title borrowed from precious love by james morrison smile again au

read on ao3

x

[The livestream begins without any introduction, the camera stationed to that side so that the baby grand piano and the bench are both in profile. The Soul King himself is sitting in front of the keys, playing scales idly and humming to himself. He seems to be waiting for something.]

skuuuullj0ke  Anyone know what this is?

gremlin energy✨✨ @ skuuuullj0ke check his pinned

existential dread but make it cute  @ skuuuullj0ke probably an apology

A handful of angry bees @ existential dread but make it cute Apology for what?? 

A handful of angry bees There was a loss in his family

A handful of angry bees Get some perspective maybe??

existential dread but make it cute  @ A handful of angry bees i paid like 200 dollars for my ticket and he canceled a week before the show

👻SOUL PARADE👻 @ existential dread but make it cute Literally his brother died whats wrong with you?

👻SOUL PARADE👻 @ existential dread but make it cute Also his team worked with all the event organizers to get everyone refunded asap so idk why youd choose to cry about money you already got back.

5924874392607 imagine spending 200 usd on soul king tix lmao 

gremlin energy✨✨ @ 5924874392607 i think you’re in the wrong place actually

skuuuullj0ke  Yikes

[A door somewhere out-of-frame opens with a mighty slam, and someone lets out an ‘oof’ as it presumably bounces back off the wall and knocks the wind out of them. Brook turns around on the bench to face the newcomer, an animated smile on his face. “So glad you could join us!” “Sorry, sorry,” a younger voice replies brightly. “Zoro went the wrong way and we ended up at a Mexican diner somehow. The food smelled amazing so we had to get some. And then Barto was there because I think he’s still tracking my phone? But he paid for lunch so that was cool. And I brought you some steak tacos!”  “In that case, all is forgiven!” A teenage boy in a worn straw hat finally scrambles into view. He launches himself at Brook for a full-bodied hug that almost knocks them both onto the floor. Brook catches him easily and hugs him back with equal enthusiasm.]

clankclunk imagine being this extroverted 😭😭

Jen.  I dont know who this child is but I’d die for him

⋆｡°✩lullabyparry⋆｡°✩ OH MY GOD ITS LUFFY!!!!!!!!

gremlin energy✨✨ He looks like hes doing a lot better !

A handful of angry bees Aww we haven't seen Luffy on here in ages 👒💛

Water 7 🔛🔝 Is anyone else worried about the dude apparently stalking his phone?????

clankclunk @ Water 7 🔛🔝 no that’s just bart. he’s weird but harmless.

existential dread but make it cute  @ Water 7 🔛🔝 lbr wed all stalk brooks contacts if we could 💞

skuuuullj0ke  We really really wouldn’t though

stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 @ existential dread but make it cute hey mods come get this weirdo

👻SOUL PARADE👻 @ stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 I wouldnt worry. His sister is the mod today and she wields the block hammer with an iron fist  

⋆｡°✩lullabyparry⋆｡°✩ @ 👻SOUL PARADE👻 lmao our queen is in the room 👑🙇

[“Come sit, Luffy,” Brook says cheerfully. “Ah, but first, throw your bag as hard as you can that way so the food smell doesn’t distract me this entire time,” he adds, pointing off to the left. Gamely, the boy gathers his tote bag together in his hands and flings it with what appears to be all the strength he can muster. It clatters noisily against something off-camera and there’s a deafening bang.  “Perfect!” Brook declares.  “Ah, wait, I forgot that was Sanji’s stuff,” Luffy says.  “He’ll get over it,” an unnamed person replies off-camera.]

Jen. RIP whoever sanji is 🙏

skuuuullj0ke  So much chaotic energy, so little time

clankclunk Luffy’s been here for 1 minute and already something is broken. New record??

[Moderator] Nami 🌊☀️ @ clankclunk Not even close. 

newname92 Woah when he threw the bag and his shirt fell open for a sec

newname92 Did anyone else see that crazy scar????????

A handful of angry bees @ newname92 You know what, I'm not even going to bother explaining why that was an insensitive question, because I’m not actually your kindergarten teacher 

[“My manager as well as the rest of my team have been very forthcoming about my recent absence,” Brook says, seeming to address the thousands of people watching the stream for the first time. “I know that the cancellation of my Sunny Days tour was a disappointment to many of you, and I’m very sorry for that. You know by now how important it is to me to be able to share my music with you all. But I do not regret it, because as much as I love the stage, my heart lives at home, and home is where I was needed.” Luffy leans against him, his head barely making it to Brook’s shoulder. He lays his own fingers on the keys and starts up a stumbling rendition of Binks’ Brew. The musician’s more practiced hands guide him along patiently.  “While there was plenty of anger to be heard from a number of you,” Brook goes on, “mostly your voices poured out to my family in sympathy and support. Your kindness means more to me than I can explain, so I’ll simply say thank you, thank you, thank you.”  “Thank you!” Luffy adds. “I always said Brook’s fans were the best.” “That you did,” Brook confirms cheerfully.]

stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 Not me literally tearing up in the break room rn

👻SOUL PARADE👻 Oh OK cool I’ll just sob horrifically into my pad thai then thanks so much Soul King

clankclunk HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL WHEN THEY EXIST

⋆｡°✩lullabyparry⋆｡°✩ 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Water 7 🔛🔝 Ive only been a soul king stan for like 2 days but already i would give my life for this family

stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 @ Water 7 🔛🔝 welcome to the crew 🏴☠️

[“So the reason for this livestream is not to apologize,” Brook says. “But rather something more personal. Today marks the very start of a brand new year, and also the birthday of one Ace D. Portgas—the first birthday we find ourselves celebrating without him.” “Ace can’t be here anymore, but he loved a good party,” Luffy pipes up. He’s still smiling, but some of the energy is gone from him now. His hands are in his lap, no longer tripping merrily across the keys. “We’re gonna make sure he hears it from wherever he is. Marco and Thatch and everybody’s gonna be there.” “That’s right! But the party is later. For now, I’d like to play him a song.”  “A birthday song?” Luffy asks.  “His favorite,” Brook confirms.  He begins to play without further ado, accompanying himself as he sings a slow, acoustic version of James Morrison’s “Precious Love.” Luffy watches him with wide, lamplike eyes, expressive face strangely unreadable. Brook’s voice swells and fills the room.    [CAPTIONS] 🎶 I was so lost, didn't know what to do with myself.  I was my own worst enemy, I was lost and oh, I needed help. Then you came along, and saw what state I was in. You picked me up when I was down, showed me how to live again. 🎶   A young man with hair dyed vivid green comes into frame, but only to sit on Luffy’s free side with his back to the piano. His face can’t be seen, and he doesn’t offer any obvious condolence or comfort; but he sticks his elbow out, and Luffy immediately loops their arms together, and that seems to be more than enough.  There is movement from elsewhere in the room. The light shifts as the door opens again, and shadows move across the wall as the three by the piano are joined by an unknown number of other people. Luffy looks up and whoever he sees makes him smile. Brook continues singing, soulful and slow and golden.    [CAPTIONS]  🎶 I say thank you, for pulling me through, I'm a lucky man. I didn't know what life was, but now I understand. 🎶]

Jen. Okay i did some googling. I dont really follow artists personal lives beyond what they share on their own social media bcus its not really any of my business

Jen. But goddamn this is sad 

skuuuullj0ke  @ Jen. Bro I cried so hard when I found out about the accident i had to leave class

stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 @ Jen. No joke. Some of my friends met ace backstage once during brook’s sabaody tour, the second night of the oakland show, but i never got the chance. Still, his entire familys grief was so raw and horrible, i know in my heart he must have been like a really really wonderful guy

gremlin energy✨✨ Ace is in a lot of the older videos on this channel, those are still up 

gremlin energy✨✨ I’m not saying go be super weird about it but if you watch like 2 of them you’ll understand immediately 

Water 7 🔛🔝 @ gremlin energy✨✨ Ace was brooks brother?

A handful of angry bees @ Water 7 🔛🔝 Not biologically, but yeah. 

gremlin energy✨✨ @ Water 7 🔛🔝 They all sort of adopted each other. Even Ace and Luffy aren’t biologically related but that’s so much a non-issue that i cant remember the last time it ever came up 

⋆｡°✩lullabyparry⋆｡°✩ @ Water 7 🔛🔝 they’re family 

clankclunk I didnt know this was ace’s favorite song. I didnt even know this song existed. Adding it to everything as we speak 

👻SOUL PARADE👻 @ clankclunk This cover might be the most beautiful thing Ive ever heard

skuuuullj0ke  @ 👻SOUL PARADE👻 FR like i want to be respectful but i also want this version released on spotify asap 😭

Skeletons on parade  The way they talk about ace like hes just somewhere else is kind of beautiful 

owl be back 🦉 @ Skeletons on parade they’re throwing him a birthday party 😭😭😭

clankclunk @ owl be back 🦉 love isn’t past-tense

[When the last ringing note from the piano fades, Brook looks down at Luffy and says, “What did you think, boss?” Luffy rubs his face with the heel of his hand, which is the only indication he’s been crying. Arms come around him from all sides, half a dozen faces spilling forward to hold him. The green-haired boy beside him gets squashed into the group hug before he sees it coming and no amount of flailing gets him out of it. Brook laughs above it all and flops over to splay his weight on the top of the pile playfully.  The piano keys give a jarring clang when someone’s elbow lands against them. A knee slipping from where it’s braced on the bench is all it takes for the entire group to go down in a tangle of limbs. A woman with long black hair is the only one aside from Brook who remains upright, effortlessly graceful. It’s her arm around Luffy’s shoulders that keeps him from falling, too.  “I loved it,” Luffy declares, in response to Brook’s unanswered question. “Ace would have loved it, too. Can you play it again?” “Until my arms fall off,” Brook agrees at once, already fanning his hands out over the keys, as if there’s not a bunch of people bickering noisily and wrestling with each other on all sides of him, just out of view of the camera.  Luffy grins and says, “Louder this time!”  The music that starts up is boisterous and triumphant and raucous—less of a bittersweet remembrance, more of a call for everyone to join in at the top of their lungs. And that’s exactly what everyone does. Clambering upright to hold onto each other, their voices ringing off the walls. The words of the song are clearly familiar to every one of them. The act of screaming out the chorus together is even more so. This was their brother’s favorite song, and they sing it like they mean it.   [CAPTIONS]  🎶This is precious love, it’s precious love. No, I can't let it go. This is precious love, and it’s teaching me, everything I need to know. 🎶]

skuuuullj0ke  Raise your hand if your singing along 🙋 

gremlin energy✨✨ @ skuuuullj0ke ✋✋

stream “1000 sunny days” album now 🔪 @ skuuuullj0ke My coworkers hate me but ✋

👻SOUL PARADE👻 @ skuuuullj0ke ✋😭

⋆｡°✩lullabyparry⋆｡°✩ @ skuuuullj0ke 👐👐👐

Skeletons on parade  @ skuuuullj0ke 🙋🙋

clankclunk So now im supposed to go to dinner with my friends and act like im not a fundamentally different person after this????

Water 7 🔛🔝 @ clankclunk 🤝 I SEE YOU BESTIE I KNOW YOUR PAIN 🫂🫂 

Jen. They’re laughing and being silly on his birthday. Idk its just rly nice. Its like proof that the good things can outlast the bad 

A handful of angry bees RIP Ace, I hope you had even half an idea of how loved you are

clankclunk @ A handful of angry bees He must have known

clankclunk @ A handful of angry bees Look at how goofy his family is. Theres no way they loved him quietly

skuuuullj0ke  He knew 🧡

[wayward-sherlock]

wayli i’m so glad you returned just to blog about deadpool & wolverine. god-tier movie fr🫡 (missed u btw🫶🏻)

HAVEN ILYSM thank u yes i just saw this movie with my dad and it was SO GOOD i have been patiently waiting to watch it since it came out (i was on vacation until this past friday) but it was so worth the wait GAH. agree god tier🫡

(also i missed u too 🥹💗)

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

some more sketches and doodles~

OK SO i read this really cool fic called 'under wind and rain' where chengling is zhou zishu's son (he's trans), and before deciding what to do, zzs considers wandering alone in the world raising chengling himself. he doesn't end up doing that but i was like....what if he DID?? and what if.....coincidentally....young wen kexing and little a-xiang are on a trip outside ghost valley (maybe before wkx becomes valley master?? idk??) and they meet young zzs and baby chengling on the road??? AND THEN SOULMATES TRUE LOVE. FAMILY FEELS. idk they move into siji manor maybe?? and han ying should be there. (sadly he was not present in the fic, but jby and wu xi were!! it's really very good, but cw for past non/dub-con! in case that's not ok for u!)

sidenote: zzs in the top middle doodle looks like he's wearing a bonnet. i considered fixing it, but it was too fucking funny. so bonnet zishu stays >:D

[geodebiome]

Reading “are you kitten me” sent me into a 3 minute moment where i was smiling uncontrollably and thinking about that phrasing over and over ty

OMG youre the op!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI ok i think im perfectly in the right to say "are you kitten me" i think he just looks so nice. the big dreads and the skull shirt he looks so chill... they all do ngl i love your style already <3

[hiddenavenues]

hii !

i saw ur post about fluffy Logan oneshots so i have one :D if this is not what ur looking for, pls feel free to ignore !!

maybe touch starved reader who constantly clings to Logan and he asks about it and reader gets nervous that they pushed a boundary and stop only for Logan to be like “wtf no i love when u cling to me, pls keep doing it”

no pressure at all, have a nice evening / morning !!

A Soft Place to Land

a/n: Hi Anon! Thank you for your request. I am so sorry this has taken so long, life went kind of crazy for a second, but it's sorting itself out now! I hope you enjoy the drabble <3

Logan Howlett x TouchStarved!GN!Reader

CW: some mentions of jealousy, reader seems pretty anxious, just some good ole' fluff

Watching how Scott and Jean held each other, or even how the kids would comfort one another, you could feel jealousy curling around your mind at the absentminded tenderness in every touch. You’d spend countless nights awake, craving the touch of another while you wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers pressing into your skin just to feel something.

It gnawed at you, quiet and constant, slipping into the quiet spaces of your mind when you were alone. You’d close your eyes and imagine what it might feel like to rest your head on someone’s shoulder, to let the warmth of another’s touch seep into your skin and quiet the restlessness within you. It was always fleeting, a memory of something you've only had in fleeting moments.

Then there was Logan. The brooding, gruff exterior everyone seemed to shy away from became your refuge. It started as fleeting touches, knuckles grazing against his when you walked, shoulders bumping when you sat together. Before you knew it, you found yourself constantly lingering in his presence, your touch becoming more purposeful. Tracing shapes into the palm of his hand during long meetings or leaning on his shoulder after a mission, his head resting on top of yours. It was rare for you to be seen far apart, the school knew you were bound to be nearby if Logan was around.

You’re not sure when it started, the constant burn beneath your skin only satisfied by his touch. You started finding ways to get him to touch you, asking for help with your hair or applying bandaids. Now, you stood before Logan with a bracelet in hand, feigning an excuse of needing help to put it on. You didn’t miss the way Logan notched a brow at your request, eyeing the bracelet he knows you’ve put on yourself countless times. You fiddled with the jewelry in your palm, gaze nervously darting around his face as a familiar pit forms in your stomach at his hesitation. A heartbeat later, Logan opens the door wide for you to enter, knuckles grazing as you pass him. 

Logan’s fingers daftly inspect the jewelry before draping it over your wrist, each graze of his fingers deepening the blush on your cheeks. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and from the smirk on Logan’s face, you had a feeling he could hear how it quickened. 

“Why you always around me, bub?” Logan asks nonchalantly as he clasps the bracelet, fingers still ghosting over your arm. 

You swallow, feeling the words catch in your throat as you search for a response. You hadn’t considered Logan noticing, much less him asking you outright. The question hangs in the air as his eyes search your face, something curious and unguarded in them. You struggle to find a response that doesn’t make you sound desperate and scare him off.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” You murmur, taking your arm away from his touch, clutching it to your chest as if to slow your racing heart. You look away, face burning beneath the weight of his gaze. “I’ll stop. Must be kinda creepy, constantly hovering around you.” You force a weak laugh.

A beat passes, the crushing silence presses against your chest, wrapping around you until each breath feels like a struggle. When you gather the courage to meet his eyes again, his expression has softened, the usual guarded look slipping. He shifts closer, bringing his face level with yours, and the intensity in his gaze holds you captive. 

“Don’t do that,” Logan’s breath fans your face with each word, mouth inches from yours. “Ain’t nobody said I didn’t like it.” His words are rough, each one lifting a weight from your chest. His eyes dart away to study the floor as his cheeks flush a deep crimson. “Ain’t used to people hanging around this much but… I don’t mind so much with you.” 

A pause before he shrugs as if trying to shake off the weight of his words. “Guess you don’t bother me as much as most folks do.” Logan straightens but doesn’t step back. His face remained aloof, but his cheeks were still rosy as vulnerability oozed from his gaze. “So quit worrying about ‘creeping me out.’ You’re good.” 

Logan’s kind words curled around your heart, a smile gracing your lips as you look at him. “So what I’m hearing is you're saying I can bug you even more now?” You joke, nudging his shoulder. 

He scoffs, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t push it, bub.”

---

Likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

[tawnysoup]

I ADORE your art and how well you match the ISAT artstyle. I've been being alot of studies to try replicate the style and draw characters 3d but stylised. Are there any tutorials that have helped you, studies you do, or things you keep in mind whilst drawing to make the characters look so 3d?

Oooaaahh thank you!!! This is a really good question. I say that because I feel like I "2D cheat" ISAT art a lot. It's very comfy to draw bc my normal art is like that too, with angles that shouldn't be able to exist but look right bc it's 2D so your brain forgives it. Design of the art > accuracy of the anatomy, y'kno?

The hair kind of gives it away in most cases. It's meant to be such a specific shape, it kind of stops looking like the character if it gets too 3D? But drawing it more 3D has huge utility too, especially for animation n stuff. It's just something I've noticed about the style! It's very designed for 2D. It's very "the shape of the lines" > "the shape of the 3D object"

It's helpful to remember that ISAT characters are all made up of really simple shapes. Like Siffrin's head is just a ball from nearly any angle but the side. Their body is a cylinder but one end is wider than the other. Odile's face is a ball but the bottom is long, like an oval. Isa's is a ball but his chin is square, it has soft corners. Even Bonnie's face is a ball you just add a cheek bump. Etc etc.

^Notice how i can't simplify the hat down into a consistent 3D shape bc otherwise it just. kind of. doesn't look like Siffrin's hat LOL

If you have the simple 3D shapes down then the rest of it is all 2D cheating and focussing on details! Having character refs nearby at all times especially when ur tryna figure out how to draw the character is KEY so you can keep looking at it and comparing. Try to pay attention to the little quirks of the art style that differ from yours and try to mimic them. But don't be afraid to let your style infect it a bit if it helps you to create something more dynamic looking.

It helps that i've been drawing for ages. I know 'practice' is the age old advice but here's my spin on it: just draw, keep drawing what u want no matter if it looks bad or if some professional artist tells you you're doing it wrong. So long as you keep drawing you are learning. Indulge and draw what you want so you get to keep all the motivation and keep going.

oh and PUSH YOUR POSES/EXPRESSIONS!!! By this I mean, draw it once, and then lower the opacity and draw it again on top but pushing everything a little bit further. If a pose feels stiff this tends to fix it.

uhmmm i rambled on for ages but i hoped it helped u Tea (or anyone else reading)! thank u for the excuse to draw a bunch of funny isat doodlies :D keep going you have GOT THIS!!! THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO MAKE OR ENJOY ART! YAY

[luffington]

hello i love ur works!! i hope ur doing well! :D for law can i request a law with a f!reader who doesn’t like him at all at first but has an uncharacteristic absolute soft spot for cute things (ie bepo) and he uses that to get closer to her? thank u!! ☺️

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.1k

➤ warnings: alcohol use

this is such a cute concept thank you for suggesting it!! i'm exactly like this and i wanna hug bepo so badly ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

i'm still not confident in the way i write law so i hope you like this!

Law's heart skips a beat the moment he meets you. That’s very unfortunate for him. 

His social skills are adequate at best, since his awkwardness unintentionally comes off as rudeness, but they get infinitely worse around people he’s attracted to.

Plus, you're a Straw Hat, so you're already seeing him out of his element. Luffy's (unintentional) insistence on ruining all of his carefully planned schemes leaves him perpetually frustrated, uncomfortable, and grumpy.

You frown when his voice comes out harsher than he meant it to. Roll your eyes when he gets upset at your crewmates again for doing what they always do. Mumble something snarky under your breath when the man frantically tries to get his plan back on track, somehow still not realizing that everything works out for Luffy. 

Oh, you must hate him. Law knows it. He tries to give you space to avoid making the situation worse, but that only upsets you more.

But Bepo? You’re obsessed. 

Constantly clinging onto him, rubbing your cheeks against his fur, giggling about how soft and round he is until the poor bear's snowy white face is tinted bright red.

His first mate nervously cries out "Captain!!", clearly flustered but secretly enjoying your praise. You pout, wondering why the cutest Mink you'd ever met is sticking around with an asshole like Law.

It’s not just Bepo – you love everything cute. Chopper always ends up in your lap, happily wrapped in your embrace. You feed stray cats, stop to pet every dog you see, and gush over the Tontattas in Dressrosa (especially Princess Mansherry!). Somehow, you cry more than Franky does at heartwarming stories. 

Law doesn’t understand how someone as adorable and kind-hearted as you could become a pirate. He admires your emotional vulnerability and childlike whimsy as much as he’s terrified of it. 

The poor guy can't win. He can barely talk to you like a normal person, much less have a full conversation with you. It leaves him lying awake in bed at night trying to think of something to say that doesn't make him sound like a dick. 

(Maybe he should read that book Chopper gave him – 'healthy ways to process trauma’ or something stupid like that.)

His crewmates know about his predicament, so Shachi suggests expressing his feelings in a way that doesn’t involve words. 

Law fights off embarrassment and walks into a toy store, looking incredibly out of place. He ends up picking out a black-and-white puppy plushie. (it’s Snoopy hehe)

Anxiety nearly overwhelms him while he waits for the perfect moment to give it to you. When it finally feels appropriate to pull you away from your crewmates, he leads you into an empty room on the Sunny. 

Law can barely look you in the eyes as he hands you the stuffed animal and mumbles, “I got this for you.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “Oh, Law…” The long stretch of silence causes him to panic internally, suddenly regretting everything and thinking of ways to explain himself.

Before he can come up with a flimsy excuse, you gladly accept his gift and hug it tightly. “It’s adorable, thank you! It even matches your hat!”

A blush spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. He wasn’t thinking about that, he swears! It’s the same color as Bepo! Yes, he loves black and white, and maybe he subconsciously wanted it to remind you of him, but he didn’t do it on purpose!

At breakfast the next morning, Shachi asks if you like your gift. Deciding not to question why he knows about it, you nod enthusiastically and say it’s so cute that you spent the entire night cuddling it. Law sputters and spills hot coffee on himself.

But now you feel bad. Everything about Law’s behavior made you think he disliked you, but he clearly cares enough to notice your interests. You don't know anything about him.

The next time your combined crews split up, you make it a point to join him and spend alone time together. He’s obviously overjoyed, and he’s already thinking about more gifts to buy you.

Once you get past his awkward exterior, you realize he's actually pretty cute. He has his own nerdy interests, and he genuinely cares about Bepo and the rest of his crew.

He’ll show you his if you show him yours… Obviously that means his limited edition Germa 66 comics box set and your collection of cute trinkets, with the puppy plushie he bought you sitting proudly on your pillow.

When he sees a cute animal or something he knows you’d like, if you’re within Room range, he Shambles you over to him so you won’t miss it.

“Law, what the hell? Why am I three blocks away from where I just was?” With a straight face, he points and says, “Cat.”

Bepo’s also a great wingman. He helps you see his captain’s soft side by telling stories about their adventures together – even embarrassing ones Law wishes he left unsaid. You eagerly listen to everything the Mink has to say and become even more comfortable around Law.

Law realizes you can be soft and strong at the same time. No one doubts Sanji’s strength even though he caves whenever he sees a woman – why shouldn’t that apply to you and your interests?

At one of your crew's famous banquets, you get super drunk and won’t stop clinging to him. Law is completely sober and tries to push you off of him, attempting to prevent you from doing anything you'd regret the next morning. 

But then you tell him you think he's adorable and giggle cutely.

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. "...You think so?" (He'd rather be seen as manly, but he's more than happy with any perception as long as you like him.)

You nod and move to kiss him, and as much as he’s dying to reciprocate, he holds you back. Instead, he half-carries you over to where a group of both of your crews are mingling. You're asleep in Bepo's lap in less than a minute.

Hungover and sleepy the next morning, you timidly apologize for your behavior. Law shakes his head and assures you that it's fine. 

"I still wanna kiss you, though," you murmur quietly. 

So his lips press against yours in a slow and gentle kiss, eventually escalating until your fingers are tangled in his hair and you’re straddling his lap, one tattooed hand gripping your hip and the other holding you tight against him.

Bepo and Shachi’s eyes widen when they see their captain’s flushed state a while later, hair messy and hickies on his neck. In typical Law fashion, he just thanks them with no further explanation.

[earthtooz]

earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me

x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+ﾟ

in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.

warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D

a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr

Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.

He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty. 

Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.

Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his. 

Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.

Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.

In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.

A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.

He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.  

Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild. 

These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority. 

He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.

But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet. 

Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.

“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.

“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”

“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”

Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”

The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.

A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.

Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.

Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.

He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?

It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.

“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.” 

The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.

His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.

“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”

“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.

Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”

“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”

“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”

You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.

“Hardly,” he murmurs. 

“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.

His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”

“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”

“Then that is my answer too.”

You give him a look that says ��really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?

Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.

You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?

“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”

“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.

“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”

Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.

Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”

He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.

In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.

Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.

You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.

Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[parfaitblogs]

bad idea right? ❀ s. reid x reader

in which hooking up with your ex is probably not a good idea... right?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst/smut (18+ mdni) tags: porn with plot. reader's mentioned wearing a dress. fingering. kind of fade to black p in v. i think im incapable of writing no d/s dynamics so soft dom!spencer my beloved. i don't mention protection but he wrapped it just trust me guys. really awful decisions are made.  word count: 3.9k a/n: i know i KNOW i said im writing fluffy smut but i simply cannot help myself... anyways this has been in the works for far too long (months...) but i have a lot of ideas for this dynamic/pairing so if we want more pls tell me 💗💘💕💕💗 i will do it!!! maybe im already doing it!!!!!💗💘💗💘💓don't fuck ur exes and thank u again for 1k ily

"Hey."

There was a beat. Then another. By the third beat your heart had started stuttering in your chest and your adrenaline-induced activities had caught up to your brain. You were slowly sinking into yourself under his gaze, that probably wasn't scrutinising, but definitely felt that way. Regret pooling in your stomach because yes, this was an absolutely awful idea, and he had clocked it within the twenty minutes it took for you to get here after his last text. 

His last text that did technically say you shouldn't come over, but if you did he wouldn't leave you stranded out in the hall. Such a gentleman, you had thought.

"I said you shouldn't come," he chastised, and your legs wobbled beneath the weight of your regret. 

"You also said I could—"

"—As a courtesy," his voice was firmer than you remembered him ever being, and your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest at the sound of it. 

"Well don't add courtesy messages if you don't want me to take them seriously," you retorted, and your arms crossed over your chest. 

He was silent for a few moments, gears turning behind his eyes, deciding if he should send you home or let you in. Then, he was stepping back, and gesturing for you to come inside — and you were.

Admittedly, six months was a long time. Being here at all is risky, and there was that fear of there being a girl sitting curled up on his couch, watching an episode of something Spencer had bribed her to watch. And maybe if you were any more sane, you would not be carefully analysing every inch of his apartment. Searching for — and expecting there to be — someone residing in spaces you had once found comfort in. 

But; no one. Then you decided that thought was stupid, because Spencer Reid was not (stupid), and he wouldn't have asked you to come to his apartment if there was a girl there. 

"Why are you dressed up?" he asked you, eyeing the dress you had on, even as he brushed past you to head into his kitchen. 

"Had a party," you replied, clasping your hands behind your back, watching him walk around his apartment with so much ease. Maybe this was only awkward for you.

"Is that why you messaged me?"

"No. No. I didn't drink," you quickly said, shaking your head, immediately clocking where his own thoughts had wandered off to. 

He nodded his head, leaning against his kitchen counter, rubbing his palms together as he studied the marble countertop, seemingly needing to find his words. "Then why did you?"

Your lips parted, silence settling between you two for a few moments longer, unsure if your internal turmoil from the night you had been having should be something for his ears or not. 

You decided it was. "Everyone's in relationships. And all their partner's were there with them at the party."

"And you were alone."

"Yeah."

He slowly nodded his head, his gaze settling on you again. "You were lonely."

Your shoulders shrugged, your own eyes dropping to the floor as embarrassment crept up your spine uncomfortably. "I missed you."

"Don't."

"What? Miss you?" 

"Yes," he said, voice strained enough for your stomach to flip. "That isn't fair."

"I know."

"You're the one who ended things."

"I know."

He was silent then, his hands dragging down his face, pausing to dig the pads of his index fingers into his eye sockets. He sighed, his arms dropping by his side heavily, eyes returning to you. Again. 

"You can't do this," he grew firmer, the sudden tone of voice causing an uncomfortable dull ache to form in your chest. 

"Do what?" you asked, quietly. 

"Come see me every time you feel lonely."

"I don't come see you every time I feel lonely."

He bore holes into your face, eyes meticulously committing features to memory, before he straightened his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. "Don't make this a habit."

"It won't," you said, quickly, a promise you both knew you couldn't make truthfully.

Hesitantly, he nodded his head towards his couch, and despite the blaring alarm in your brain telling you to just go home and forget about it, your feet carried you over to it. Sinking into the plush of black leather you had sat so many times before, the fabric cold against your legs.

His face softened involuntarily, staring at you, heart achingly vulnerable and small, tucked into the corner of his couch. It almost made it easy to forget the past six months and everything leading up to the breakup. Almost. 

He stayed standing, as a power move or because he was simply awkward, you didn't know anymore. The man you were currently sharing air with did not seem the same as he had half a year prior. That hurt. 

Sitting up straighter, you clasped your hands in your lap, fixating your gaze on the coffee table in front of you. "I'm sorry."

He didn't respond for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by your sudden apology. Then, feet shuffling that indicated he was walking away from the couch, and your heart sank to your stomach. 

"For what?" he asked, his voice gruffer than he had intended. 

Your breath hitched. "Breaking up with you, I guess."

Too many memories filled your mind from what had happened, and you felt the guilt you had suppressed for months crawl its way back up your spine. 

"And you think sorry can make it all okay?" his voice had a hint of bitterness in it, and you couldn't even blame him for it. 

"No. Obviously not," you said, shifting on the couch to turn your head to look at him, fixating on him as he attempted to busy himself with rearranging the books on his desk. "Can you come here, please?"

His movements paused, and he lifted his gaze to you. There was a silent battle between your eyes, before you inevitably won, and he nodded, letting go of the hardback book he was moving and instead walking over to you on the couch. 

"I feel awful. For the way I left," you told him when he found residence on the other end of the couch, the distance technically small, but to you, seemingly massive. 

"You didn't seem upset when you left."

"I was. Please believe me."

He was no longer looking at you, but you were at him, and there was a disapproving expression on his face that told you he simply didn't, despite the quiet, "Okay," that fell from his lips. 

Unsure of what else to say, you let the silence encase you, instead flickering your eyes around the apartment, attempting to pick out minuscule changes he had made since you'd moved out. Nothing insane jumped out to you, other than the lack of your presence. There no longer being a collection of your own books on his bookshelf, brightly coloured trinkets not cluttering the kitchen countertop anymore. Which was fine. Even the items you had left here unknowingly, you hadn't expected to still be residing in his apartment. 

When your gaze settled back on him, you found him staring at you already. Your lips pulled into a small frown, while his parted, breath catching as if about to say something, then stopping. 

"You look pretty," he settled on telling you. And if you were any more stable, maybe your heart wouldn't have flipped in your chest. 

"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn slightly. 

Despite the fluster such a simple compliment brought you, you couldn't look away. And it seemed neither could he. Staring at each other for ticking minutes, until you were finally breaking the brick wall of tension and standing up. 

"I shouldn't have come," you told him. "You were right."

"I should agree with you," he replied, watching your every movement. Even as you halted your beeline towards his door, confusion creeping up your spine. He had noticed it. 

You turned back to him. "But you don't."

"No. I don't," he agreed. "We ended abruptly."

"I left."

"Yeah."

It had been a huge misunderstanding, in the grand scheme of it all. A misunderstanding you had logically worked out after a week of dwelling on it all, but then had far too much pride to reach out to him again. Instead, allowing the remnants of your relationship to rot away in the back of your mind, never to be touched again. 

Until you were violently reminded just how much you had thrown away that night in a room full of happy people. 

Letting your shoulders soften, you trudged back over to him, standing rather awkwardly in front of him on the couch. Not that it felt awkward. You decided awkwardness was impossible when Spencer Reid stared at you like you were the sun materialised in his living room — the same way he had when you were still with him. And after six months of not seeing him, and an entire awkward conversation later, you finally wondered if anything had actually changed at all.

How you felt about him certainly hadn't. Eyes fixated on him like he was going to disappear if you even twitched, and you had the fleeting thought of kissing him. Which then turned into a recurring thought, until you were actively fighting the thought because this was not your boyfriend and kissing him was quite possibly the worst thing you could ever do. 

But God, did you want to. 

"I resented you for a long time."

You ignored the guilt eating away at your heart, and the hurt that settled in your stomach. You deserved his resent. 

"You don't anymore?" you asked, voice choked up from the thick ball of a sob caught in your throat. 

"No," he shook his head. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

You nodded your own head wordlessly. "That's fair."

He exhaled sharply, and his fingers pressed into the inner corners of his eyes. "You shouldn't be here."

"So you've said."

"No, I mean—" he cut himself off, lifting his gaze back to you. "I have things I want to do, that I will regret."

"With me?" You already knew the answer. 

"Yes," he confirmed anyways. "And we shouldn't."

"We definitely shouldn't," you agreed. 

He stood, dropping his hands by his sides, and you feared for a moment he was going to kick you out, just for the sake of his own sanity. Maybe it would be better for the both of you if he did that. 

He didn't. 

Instead, you learned quite quickly that he was battling the same internal conflict you were. And maybe he was attempting to ignore it; same as you. Maybe he had lost that war and that was why he was acting on those terrifying impulses. 

"I want to kiss you."

You were mostly shocked the words hadn't come from you. But by the time you had registered that fact, you had also registered you were nodding in agreement, followed by your consent, and he then was kissing you. 

And it was like no time had passed at all. 

His lips on your own were as desperate as you remember — even in the quieter mornings he would kiss you like you'd disintegrate beneath him, never to be seen again. And, with matching his desperation, you found his knees buckling as they hit the edge of the couch, and he was coaxing you down onto it with gentle hands on your hips. 

Abiding his physical request, your knees dug into the cushions, on either side of his body, and he was stuttering through breaths, lips detaching from your own. Your protests about it died on your tongue quickly as he kissed down your jaw and over the skin of your neck — delicately, for he had always been keenly aware of how sensitive the vessels and nerves in your neck were. 

"You definitely haven't drank tonight?" he mumbled against your skin once his lips had reached the top edge of your dress.

"No," you confirmed with a shake of your head, and he let out what seemed like a sigh of relief — you didn't know if feeding into that idea was good for you mentally or not. 

His fingers trailed up the length of your spine, your back arching on impulse as goosebumps arose on your skin. Tender hands found the thin straps of your dress, and his head lifted to look at you again. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, content flooding over you as he did as he had intended, and you were slipping your arms out of the straps of your dress.

"This is such a bad idea," he mumbled, and all you could do was hum in agreement, for he was still pressing kisses along your skin down past your collarbone. 

Maybe it was the lingering thought that you shouldn't be doing this that egged you on. The knowledge that your friends would probably consider a violent end for you (and him) once they found out. That this was bad, and you were going to regret it the second it was over. 

His hands dropped back to your hips, and you searched for his lips again with your own, kissing him once more. Your dress bunched at your waist with help from Spencer, and hands that grappled at your ass tugged you impossibly closer. 

"Are you actually going to hookup with me on your couch?" you murmured against his lips. 

"Where would you prefer us to be?" he asked you, tilting his head back so he could see you once more. 

"Your bed."

If he disagreed with your suggestion, he hid it behind a nod, tapping your thighs so you could climb off of him. Which, you did, leading him towards his own bedroom, similarly to all the ways you had done it before. He tried not to dwell on that. 

"Have you been with anyone since we broke up?" 

Your voice was filled with an insecurity you wished to burn as you climbed onto the bed. The sheets so familiar you felt like crying. 

"Do you really want the answer to that question?" he asked, positioning himself over you, fingers placed at your waist.

"No," you decided, a response he knew you'd reply with. "But I guess that is an answer within itself."

"I guess," he agreed, head ducking back down to kiss over your shoulders and collarbones. 

"Were they good?"

"I'm not answering that."

"So they were."

He said your name, chidingly, nipping at your skin. "If you want to do this, I need your focus to be here. Not the other people I've had sex with."

"Okay. Sorry."

He only hummed as a response, the hand on your waist dropping past your hips, gently parting your legs and running his fingers up the skin of your inner thigh. 

Everything he did felt hauntingly familiar, and easy. As if the past six months had been nothing more than a bad dream, and the man who was above you, pulling your underwear down your legs and hiking your dress up to your waist, had done this twice in the past week already. 

You'd resonate in that fantasy for as long as you could. 

You squirmed as he brushed a finger through your folds, and he smiled, his mind no doubt reminding him of all the times you had done that before.

"Take your time," you muttered, bitterly, as he repeated the gentle ministration a few more times. 

"I will," he bit back, though the amusement in his eyes as he met your gaze again told you he was similarly as impatient. "I'm just figuring out what makes you feel good."

"You've forgotten?"

"No," he shook his head, the word flying off his tongue as he circled your clit with his finger, with a frustrating expertise. "I'm reminding myself."

"I like being kissed."

He laughed, quietly. Your heart warmed in your chest, while his lips brushed delicately against yours once more. "Thank you for the reminder."

"Of course," you said, and he was then swallowing a moan as he kissed you, pushing a finger into you at the same time. 

His eyebrows knitted together, something you only make out because his lips have tugged into a frown and you were pulling back to peer at him — only to be coaxed back into a kiss by his searching lips. You decided not to ask why he's confused. Or concerned. Or whatever the expression he was making was for. 

"Spencer," you breathed out when he had kept his finger still for too long (in your opinion), and he's quick to mumble an apology and start thrusting his finger. 

Whether he was more conscious of the sounds you were making, or simply just wanted to kiss you, you didn't know. But his lips stayed connected to yours as he fingered you in practiced motions, that you were focussing so closely on. Perhaps too closely, for he was nipping your lower lip when you had stopped actively kissing him back. 

"Is your distraction an indicator of something good? Or do I need to work harder?" he asked you, lifting his head to watch you squirm as he added another finger. 

"No, it's something good. It feels good," you reassured him.

The heel of his palm grazed over your clit, and you whined. So, he did it again. You moaned louder. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you moaned at how overwhelming it all was. He might have slept with more people in between, but you certainly hadn't, and it was becoming all too much, all too quick. 

You were acutely aware of the movement of his own hips on the bed beside you, your lips tugging up in amusement at the desperation he was displaying. Comforted by the fact that you were not alone. 

A particular brush of his fingers upon that spot inside of you cut off your thoughts, and you gasped, jerking your head away. At that, he did it again. And again.

"Spencer—Spencer," you whimpered, brokenly, grappling for any semblance of control over yourself. 

"Mm?"

"I'm gonna come," you told him. An honest mistake, because he was now pulling his fingers out of you, despite your quick protests. "No—what the fuck?"

"Shh," he said through a smile, kissing you to quieten your loud objections. "I want to come with you. Is that okay, honey?"

Oh.

Overwhelmed with a sudden shyness, you nodded your head, cheeks warming, and any opposing words dying on your tongue. "Yes. It is."

In an all too quick motion, he went from fully clothed above you, to fully naked and beside you, you having discarded of your own dress at the same time. Absentmindedly, because you were a little too focused on  what it was you were actually doing, brain running rampant about how awful of an idea it was. 

But then he was shifting your legs open, hand running up and down the skin of your thighs as he positioned himself at your entrance, and you were forgetting all about it. 

In a slow, languorous thrust, he pushed himself inside of you, a low hiss leaving his lips as he stilled, your own eyes fluttering shut, hands balling into fists. 

"This, I forgot," he breathed out, and you felt his hair tickle your shoulder as he rested his head against it. 

"You have an eidetic memory."

"Not for touch. Not like this," he explained, voice strained. "Sorry, sweet girl. Give me a minute."

The pet name had your heart fluttering, and you felt tears sting your vision as the violent reminder that this will never happen again flashed in your mind. You willed that thought away, trying to focus on the feeling of him inside of you, and how good it was in the moment. 

"It's been like twenty," you grumbled, pushing your hips back against his, and a choked laugh left his lips. 

"Seconds, maybe," he answered, a hand dropping to your hips. To still them or ground himself, you didn't know. "Exercise patience, please."

"Forgive me, but you did just stop me from coming."

He bit your shoulder. "Exercise manners too, while you're at it."

At that, you inhaled, before saying in an awfully sweet voice, "Can you please fuck me, Spencer?"

"Was that so hard?"

"Fuck off."

"After I make you come, I will," he answered, tone of voice unbearably innocent. 

A stark contrast to the drag of his hips out of you, and the sharp thrust back in (just to punctuate his point, of course). At its unexpectedness, you gasped, voice cracking and heart somersaulting. 

Every thrust into you was a constant reminder of what you had given up. What you had lost. A string of moans from you so achingly familiar to his ears, and heavy breaths from him making you want to never let this end. 

He was everything, and perhaps your hands were an inch too small to hold all of him. 

As quickly as it had all began, it was over, and you were left in the centre of his mattress, staring up at a ceiling you had intricately dissected with your eyes many times before. 

He had disappeared to his bathroom, assumedly to get clothes for himself, and hopefully something for you and your walk of shame you were no doubt doing in less than thirty minutes time. 

There was a growing sick feeling in your stomach you could at least identify to be anxiety, paired with the gross feeling of regret for your actions. You were never meant to see him again, despite what your heart had wanted. You forced yourself to be an adult about this, to cut him off. Your friends had pathetically changed his contact name to don't answer on a night out for their own personalised reminder of what talking to him would ensue. Why didn't you fucking listen?

He returned from the bathroom, a pile of clothes you had forgotten you'd ever even left here in his hands. You wiped the sides of your face with the backs of your hands, fluttering your eyelids to cut off anymore tears, sitting up.

"You should probably go," he said. If there was anything left of your heart to shatter, he just did.

"You're kicking me out so soon?" you asked him, failing at keeping your tone of voice light. When he hesitated in a response, you discovered why you no longer let your heart speak for you. You cracked a small smile, shook your head, and muttered, "Kidding." 

He didn't need to know you were subconsciously begging him to let you stay.

You stood, albeit on shaking legs, and took the clothes he was offering you. Pulling them on under such a watchful gaze was almost embarrassing, even as he busied himself with stripping the sheets from his bed to avert his attention. He was still keeping note of your presence in his space. 

"I—um, bye, Spencer," you stammered, throat closing up with every passing minute. 

He looked back at you. "I'll see you out."

"No," you were quick to deny him. "It's okay, I know where the door is. I'll see you around. Maybe. Probably not." Stop talking.

"Yeah. Maybe," he agreed with no real sincerity. "Goodbye."

"Bye," you said, again, hesitating to leave behind the remnants of an even more destroyed relationship. 

Though, you had to.

And as you left, you discovered that yes. Everything between you two had changed.

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