#I really like the idea that gods are controlling each of these games

[autistichalsin]

I tried to have this conversation a few weeks ago and it didn't go well, so after giving it time to calm down I am bringing it up now on my own page, about the importance of allowing fans who can't afford the game, or who otherwise can't play for themself due to disabilities, etc, a space in the fandom. And in particular, this involves deconstructing the idea that Let's Plays aren't a valid way to experience this media, and that people who didn't purchase the game don't belong here, both of which are harmful, classist, ableist ideas.

(Tone: genuine. Not angry or aggressive, but passionate.)

I want to say that as much as I enjoy playing BG3 and am glad I bought it, there really isn't anything that I have gained, in terms of understanding of the plot, lore, characters, relationships, etc, that I didn't already have when I was watching Let's Plays and using the datamined dialogues exclusively. Nor has my emotional experience been significantly different in any measurable way. I mean, I WAS very happy to recruit and romance Halsin in a way that I didn't feel when I watched a Let's Play, but that's it. It didn't change my understanding of, or feelings towards, him at all. I knew Halsin's entire story before, and I knew his entire story after, too. My feelings on each and every one of Halsin's scenes has remained exactly the same.

There wasn't any character I thought was a bad guy who I saw something new in when I played for myself, or vice-versa. I didn't have any paradigm shifts in my understanding of the plot. The bad guy was still a Nether Brain controlled by the Chosen of the Dead Three in each playthrough. The good guys were still a group of traumatized weirdos (/affectionate). Astarion was still a victim of rape and slavery, Shadowheart was still a cult escapee, and Halsin still struggled with the burdens of leadership. There were still choices that could make the companions bar Jaheira and Minsc fall in love with you, and choices that could make them despise you. There were still choices that could push some of the characters to be better or worse versions of themselves. There were still a lot of notes and books to pick up, some of which were important to the lore, some of which provided random factoids about bit characters you may find interesting or may find useless, and many of which were completely useless and a waste of inventory space. I didn't learn anything new in the informational sense, about the plot, the characters, the flow of the game, nothing.

(Well, there was ONE different thing, which was that I ended up being an edge case where I accidentally shot Lae'zel with my arrow when trying to free her and got yelled at by her for it. Does that actually count as a unique-to-playing revelation though? Everyone who watched me stream that day would have learned about it too.)

I didn't experience some overwhelming emotional shift in response to the events onscreen that wasn't there when I watched Let's Play, either, which is also an argument that has been made. There's been a case presented that it's not so much that the events themselves change but that playing somehow alters your emotional response which affects how you view the plot and characters. But that didn't happen for me, either. I didn't go from "I do not care one single solitary fuck about Barcus Wroot" to "oh my god I will give this poor liddol guy the world." I still do not care about him. I didn't go from "yay, the moon lesbians are free!" to some sort of more intense emotion like "omg I'm going to cry now!" I still love them and am happy they're free, but hardly moved to tears. I didn't go from "fuck Orin" to "MEGA fuck Orin." Making the choices and fighting the battles myself didn't change anything for me in that sense. There was no emotion I hadn't already felt before that came to me in my own playthrough. Every emotion I had when watching a Let's Play was almost exactly the same when I played the game for myself.

If anything, the only real change was that I started to have annoyance as a sort of background radiation for about 90% of the companions because I kept accidentally talking to them when trying to click on items and things, and I got really fucking tired of hearing their greetings? "Shut up, Astarion, I wanted to loot the corpse, not talk to you, please back the fuck up. Why is my party always halfway up my ass? Personal space, guys?" Otherwise nope.

My understanding of canon, my understanding of the characters, my emotional resonance to the events that happened, those were all exactly the same. I literally don't know what people are referring to when they say that there was some magical new dimension of feeling that can only be unlocked when you are the one playing. Whatever that magic was certainly wasn't there for me, and that disproves the idea it's "impossible" to fully experience the game through LPs, because having played the game, I can say that I DID get the full experience through LPs. Maybe some people can't get the full feel of things by watching, which is 100% valid, but some people very much can. I did both, and I can tell you that they conferred 98% similar intellectual and emotional experiences.

In fact, I'd argue that there's more of a difference between playing as a Tav or an Origin vs playing as a Dark Urge than there is between playing yourself vs watching an LP, but I don't often see the case made that people who haven't completed a Durge playthrough don't understand the game properly and therefore can't/shouldn't contribute their analyses/interpretations of canon to the fandom. And I mean, there is some HEAVY lore you only get in a Durge playthrough. You would have a FAR better case that completing/watching a Durge playthrough is the event that marks you as understanding/having a complete knowledge of canon than you would that playing the game yourself instead of watching someone else do it is, though I still wouldn't ultimately agree that it's a prequisite.

People who watch LPs are valid, your way of experiencing the game is valid, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise because honestly, people who gatekeep are never worth listening to in the first place. The idea that your understanding becomes more complete when playing yourself isn't true for everyone. You can say they weren't the same experience for you, and that is PERFECTLY valid and understandable, but that's only you. You can't say what others are and aren't able to feel when playing vs watching Let's Plays. The only correct statement here is "some people are able to fully comprehend the plot through Let's Plays, and some aren't, and the mode of consuming the game ultimately doesn't determine whether a person belongs here. Both groups still belong in the fandom and have just as valid opinions to contribute as the others."

Further, I have seen absolutely brilliant, on-point analyses from people who only watched Let's Plays, and absolutely horrible, nuclear hot takes from people who spend all day playing the game. Just the other day, for example, I legitimately witnessed a Redditor VEHEMENTLY argue that 1. There was a scene in the game where Halsin called Thaniel "beautiful", 2. This nonexistent scene was ABSOLUTE proof that Halsin was a pedophile, and 3. Halsin's time as a sex slave had clearly caused him to become a pedophile. People who had seen only the intro of the game on an LP would STILL have a better understanding of canon than this person who claimed to have played dozens of times. If we're going to judge people's understanding of the game, it should be based on the understanding their posts convey directly, not based on assumptions about who can absorb what amount of information through what mode of consuming the game.

So I repeat: LP watchers, you're fine. Enjoy fandom in a way you can experience. You shouldn't be locked out of discussion of the game just because you can't afford hundreds of dollars for a game system. To suggest otherwise would be appallingly cruel and exclusionary behavior, on the level of saying bootleg watchers can't be part of discussions about Broadway shows. You all belong. You don't have to buy your way into a fandom space.

And bringing it to that issue: yes, Let's Plays ARE an absolute necessity for both poor people and for people with certain disabilities (blindness, since the game doesn't have a narrative-only mode, and severe disabilities affecting the hands being the two that jump to mind right away). Gatekeeping fandom from poor people based on whether they've bought an expensive game and gaming setup, much like being an anti-bootleg Broadway fan, serves the sole purpose of shaming and punishing poor fans for not properly engaging in the capitalist system. I know the intention isn't to gatekeep the poor and people with certain disabilities from the fandom, but that ends up being the effect when this particular argument gets made.

[iridescentis]

This is probably not an original idea but I really like the concept that every winner of the life series becomes a god of life and is like a spectator of the following series. So Grian's third life self, Scott's last life self and Pearl's double life self are all watching their mortal selves play limited life, waiting for the fourth god to join them

Maybe Grian is the one who chose to replicate the original game and transfers their souls to the next game, which is why they have such vague memories of what happened the season before, but gives them a chance to save each other (giving lives) or betray each other (boogeyman). Then Scott joins him and chooses to make their mortals connected to one another so they never die alone to the hands of a god, but together. Then Pearl joins and wants to put an end to the games, so she sets a time limit. What will the next person do?

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter two -

I might kill my ex, not the best idea

Eddie warned Robin that a game of never have I ever was a bad idea, and you should know better than to go snooping where you don’t belong.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking (hey it’s a summer time barbecue in the midwest), you thought there was a lot tension the last chapter? baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet. jealousy, spicy things are revealed about all of them during a drinking game.

wc: 9.5k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

It’s been one week.

One entire week without even so much of a glimpse of that permanently messy head of hair, and god, you hated how much it bothered you. Ears perking up every time you’d catch the cadence of his voice through the receiver of Robin’s cordless phone the few times he called her to check in. Like an unwanted guest who wasn’t taking the hint, his broad shoulders and full pink lips that somehow always look like they need to be kissed haunt your unsuspecting dreams at night. 

You hate it, you hate him, and you try not to spiral about why it feels like the opposite.

“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 

“What?” You snap, tearing your eyes from the slow pour of the coffee maker in front of you, grouchy and wound up from a dream about his big hands pulling your legs apart so perfect white teeth could nip at the inside of your thighs.

“Steve, you know that guy you told me you’d try and be nice to. The one who’s fixing your car?” Sarcasm drips from her tone as she scoops up another bite, “We’re going to his house.”

Of course.

“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is.

“Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”

“I’m keeping you hostage?!” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, turning your back to finally pour yourself the cup of coffee you’ve waited so patiently for. “He’s the best friend stealer.”

“I’m not going to lie, I think I like you two fighting over me,” she laughs, looking a little too smug for your liking as she brings her empty bowl to the sink, Garfield slippers scuffling across the tile, too lazy to pick up her feet from the floor.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re sick.” A real smile curls up into your cup, inhaling the rich scent into your nose. “What are your plans to torture me with his presence this time?” 

Robin narrows her stare at you in a silent warning, pulling herself up to sit on the counter, orange cat covered feet dangling freely as you meet her gaze with softened eyes in a silent apology.

“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”

Choking on your coffee, you sputter your sip back into your mug, turning her freckled face sour.

“Since when does Steve know how to cook, let alone grill?”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you know you’re skating on thin ice, but all the built up tension that tightens your muscles, and buzzes incessantly at your fingertips makes everything feel impossible to control.

“He’s not seventeen anymore - “

“Really? He had me fooled shoving his tongue down some pretty blonde’s throat at Rick’s the other night.” 

“That’s - come on, you know that's not fair. He didn’t even know -”

”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.”

The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault.

“I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.”

Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen. 

“Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 

She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.

“I’m sorry.”

She holds your stare until she can tell you actually mean it, melting glaciers with a heavy sigh. 

“It’s fine, I get it.” 

Her words come out soft, just like the lines that smooth on her face.

“I know this is weird and like totally against friend code or whatever, but I think that just goes to show how much he must mean to me or even a testament to how much he’s changed if I’m even asking you to just try and do this. Just try, that’s all.”

“No, you’re right,” you fluster, doing your best to reassure her in a shaky voice, “I just slept badly and had a really weird dream. It just threw me off a little. I’m being so awful and I’m sorry.” 

Flashes of the way his hands gripped your hips and the dirty things he whispered in your ear has your palms start to sweat, making you loosen your grip on her arm before she can notice. 

Robin searches your face for the reassurance that she needs before a small smile finally tugs at the corners of her lips.“This is why you’re my best friend.” She pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Only if you tell him that.” 

Snaking your arms around her waist, you let out a shaky laugh, silently preparing to see the man who hasn’t left the crevices of your mind since you stepped foot back in Hawkins.

———

It feels like you’re back in high school the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror, the nerves still feel the same.

Your gaze wanders up and down your reflection, turning from side to side, overly critical eyes take in your curves that are on display a little more than normal and you wonder if Robin will notice. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, better yet you wonder if Robin will notice and have something to say about it. 

“You’re certainly spending a lot of time on an outfit.” Your best friend whistles low as she leans against the open bedroom door confirming your fears with a cross of her arms.

“Just trying to remember what I brought is all.” You don’t engage with the amusement that hides in her tone, smoothing down the short black skirt that flares over the tops of your thighs, before adjusting the straps on your matching tank top.

“Riiiight,” she snorts, earning the kind of glare that has her raising her hands in defense before a shit-eating grin cracks wide across her face. “I’m going to need you to hurry up, though. Do I need to remind you that we’re walking?”

“I’m done!” You huff, sock covered feet digging into her cream carpet as you make your way toward her, “I just need to put on my shoes.”

“You’ve got twenty secon-” she agonizes before three hard knocks on her front door cut her off. Her cheshire smile falters as she turns confused.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get to finish that sentence,” you warn in a harsh whisper, grabbing your Converse that had been haphazardly kicked off earlier in the corner. 

Robin puts a ringed finger to her lips, like the possibility of a kidnapper being on the other side is extremely probable, and it’s her turn to glare when you roll your eyes at her dramatics. Following her out to the living room, you plop down on the couch, watching her slowly creep to the front door. Both her hands find the blue painted wood pushing up on the toes of her Reeboks to look out the peephole.

“Steve?!” 

The name makes your stomach flip, a shaky breath pushing its way through watermelon flavored lips because you thought you had more time than this. Keeping a poker face, you take your time tying your laces as she swings the door open. Head down, your eyes keep their focus on how the dirty white strings move between your fingers. 

You’re not ready to look at him. Not yet.

“After taking you to school at 7am every day after I graduated, you really thought I was going to let you walk?” The smile in his voice is evident, a fond memory you’re not a part of but you can still feel the warmth inside it by the way he speaks. 

“Thank god,” she starts, the insinuation of the words that are going to follow making your eyes snap up, narrowed and shooting daggers at your best friend, catching Steve’s attention in the process. 

“We were going to be late.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, his gaze claiming yours and holding it against your will, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his full lips and suddenly it’s so much warmer in her living room than it was two seconds ago. “Why’s that?”

He somehow looks even better than the last time you saw him, a bad habit you’re quickly learning that he has. The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 

“She’s just being dramatic,” you grumble, finally tearing your eyes from the dark moss that covers the chocolate inside his, doing your best to ignore the heat of them wandering the bare skin of your legs as you finish tying your shoes.

“You changed your outfit like sixty times!” 

This is the moment that you decide you’re going to kill Robin in her sleep tonight.

“Well, I’m ready so you both can stop being annoying now.” Standing, you tug down the bottom of your skirt that suddenly feels even shorter with his full attention on you like this.

“Wait, why am I annoying? I just got here.” Steve argues when your words finally sink in, snapping him out of his daze, catching the keys in his palm. 

“You’re always annoying, Harrington,” you sigh, hoping your deflections are working, but the small smile that never leaves his lips tells you it’s not.

“Shotgun!” Robin calls out like it’s something you would have argued over. Your shoulder brushes with his as you push your way out the door, sending sparks to the tips of your fingers and making your hair stand on end. Steve and the summer heat warm your skin. 

“It’s all yours,” you concede with ease, ignoring the butterfly wings that wreak havoc in your rib cage when the spice of his cologne makes its way into your nose.

It was going to be a night.

Steve keeps the windows rolled down, the muggy air making your bare thighs stick together and to the hot leather of his backseat. It drowns out the music as he speeds down the back roads, making the conversation between him and Robin upfront almost inaudible.

You don’t worry about what they might be saying, not even when they both start gesturing wildly with their hands. Taking advantage of the time left alone, you put all of your focus into preparing yourself for the next few hours, doing your best to push the lingering thoughts of your dream deep down to a place that no one can find. A task that proves to be much harder while avoiding his gaze that dares you to meet it in the rear view mirror the entire way. 

The memories you have of the back of his car don’t help either.

Pulling into Forest Hills trailer park, you’re surprised at the facelift they finally gave it after all these years. Lush green grass grows where the yellow and brown shrub used to be, and a wooden gazebo that looks like it’s missing a finishing coat stands tall, replacing the picnic table where you and the metal head used to smoke. Even the gravel that paves the road looks new and gray, not the dirt brown mud that it used to be. 

It’s still a struggle to wrap your head around the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the former king of Hawkin’s and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson not only work together, but live together too. You would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you this five years ago. 

The BMW’s tires crunch loudly against the rocks as Steve pulls into the driveway of a hunter green trailer. It sits in the back of the park, almost touching the edge of the woods behind it. A faded white line running along the length that matches the metal railing of their front entrance and the overhang that covers it. The paint peels from parts of the metal in the heat, revealing spots of the gray hidden underneath. A worn in deep maroon couch sits on the porch just like the dirty brown one at Wayne’s trailer, and you already know Eddie spends his mornings there. You internally groan when you catch yourself wondering if Steve does too.

“Home sweet home,” he hums, cutting the engine off and pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You dare to meet his eyes for the first time since you left the apartment when Robin jumps out of the front seat, and you immediately regret it. He smiles wide, finally catching your attention, those perfect white teeth baring themselves at you as he pulls off his hat to run a hand through his sweaty bed head. The long strand he’s always at battle with falls through the opening in the back when he puts it on again, because, of course it does.

“Good to see you finally slumming it with the rest of us, King Steve,” you snort, pulling on the handle to let yourself out, ending any chance of conversation.

If it wasn’t for your Eddie barreling out of the front door to greet you and Robin with a big dimpled grin and a freshly rolled joint, you would’ve thought a little harder about the way Steve winced at the nickname.

The Munson/Harrington Bachelor pad anomaly isn’t exactly what you expected it to be, but even then you weren’t entirely sure what that was. It’s cozy just like how Wayne’s used to be but where there’s hand me downs that have been through the short line of Munson men’s hands, there’s an equal amount of obviously perfectly well kept new. Like the shiny big TV in the center of their living room, and the well-loved lazy boy in front of it, that still had cigarette burns from its previous owner, next to the rich tan leather couch right by it.

It smells like it has just been cleaned, a sanitizing lilac still lingering in the air, trying its best to cover the smell of all grease stained clothing in their hampers and the smoke from joints like the one Eddie’s about to put out in an ashtray full of ones just like it.

He sits at the head of the table with a lopsided grin that pushes up the apples of his cheeks and reveals the deep dimples in the center of them. Droopy lids frame his bloodshot eyes that meet your own. Orange and pinks paint the darkening sky through the sliding glass door behind him. 

“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” Eddie chuckles with a fond glint in big brown eyes leaning back in his chair that squeaks under the redistribution of his weight.

“Back by popular demand,” you smirk, pointing at Robin, who sits just on the other side of the table, glassy eyed with an unwavering smile. 

You try to ignore how the empty chair next to her bothers you, or they way your eyes keep looking toward the kitchen through the small opening of their little island, giving you the perfect view of Steve prepping dinner. His thick eyebrows are furrowed as he digs through spice racks and drawers, front teeth digging into the plushness of his bottom lip deep in thought.

“I think this calls for a fire,” Eddie announces loudly, bringing you back to the conversation with a slap of his palms on the wood of the table and the kind of smirk that tells you that you’ve been caught.

“We told Janice next door weekends only after last time,” Steve’s voice startles you, making his presence known, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend. Besides it’s a special occasion, look who’s here Stevie boy.” Something in Eddie’s tone makes Steve’s eyes narrow in a silent threat that only makes the metal heads' lips twist up into something more devilish. 

“You have to put it out before bed then, I’m not dealing with it like last time.” Steve accepts defeat quicker than anticipated, “And if she calls or comes over to complain at all, that's all on you too.”

”Deal,” Eddie agrees with five fingers across his heart, the silver of his rings catching in the low light of their trailer.“I think she’s got a crush on me anyway.”

“She’s married,” Steve dead pans with a deep sigh, taking his hat off to run another hand through his hair and you hate the way it has your thighs meeting under the table. “Who’s helping me with dinner then?”

He knows better than to look at you, so his gaze falls onto his roommate and best friend.

”Don’t look at me!” Robin argues, raising her right hand to show off the faded scar on her palm. “Last time I tried to help, I had to get stitches, remember?”

”The fire’s a full time job I’m afraid,” Eddie shrugs, standing up. Not missing a beat, they both look at each other like they're in on some secret that you and Steve aren’t apart of before their eyes land on you.

”You know I’m not a good cook,” you whine, refusing to meet the heat of Steve’s stare that burns against the side of your face.

”I’m sure Steve’s more than willing to help teach you, princess.” Eddie grins, and it makes you want to slap the dimples clean off his face.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do it by myself,” Steve interjects with a sigh before you have a chance to respond with something that he knows will just egg the metal head on and get his ego even more bruised.

He’s not expecting the way your eyes snap to his, or the way they narrow with something fiery deep inside them.

”We’re grown adults, Steve. I think I can handle helping you cut some vegetables or whatever it is you need me to do.” Standing up with a shove of your chair, he doesn’t even attempt to argue about how that’s the exact opposite of what you just said.

”There we go! Problem solved.” Eddie’s grin is mischievous, and so is the wink he throws at his roommate before opening the sliding glass door, ushering Robin out and leaving you both alone.

The tension inside the kitchen hangs thicker in the air than the humidity outside weighing down your shoulders, making the words stick in the back of your throat as you try to navigate the close proximity to Steve. Neither one of you is sure of what to say first, and the sound of Eddie and Robin laughing outside filling the silence between you somehow makes it worse. 

The weed twists the knots in your stomach tighter, and the cedar that always seems to linger whenever he’s around turns suffocating without an escape. You lean against the sink across from him while he digs through the icebox in the fridge. Shoulder blades moving with the motions of his wrist, plastic crinkling loudly every time he moves a bag out of the way. Muttering to himself, you watch goosebumps rise on his tan skin from the cool air, muscles twitching from the shock.

This was a mistake. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tear your eyes away in hopes it will stop the dull ache between your legs from getting worse when you’re brought back to the way those same arms caged you in while his hips pushed you deeper into the mattress in your dreams last night. Looking out the small window at the beginning flames of the bonfire, a shaky breath pushes past your glossed lips, and you wipe your palms on your skirt before turning around to wash your hands.

”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”

Cutting the water, you shake your hands in the sink before tearing off a paper towel from the roll next to you. Working up enough courage to finally turn around to look at him, you finish drying your hands with a softer expression.

”No, I can help.” 

He holds your stare, silently giving you another out while his fingers make quick work of unwrapping a head of lettuce, an onion, and a few peppers from their plastic confines. No matter how much you want to look away, you don’t, standing firm in your choice despite everything inside of you screaming to run away, and it’s enough for him to nod his head. The slight twitch of his lips while he rolls the bags in his hands doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I just need you to cut the onion into thin slices for the burgers, and same with the jalapeños.” He instructs, turning his back to you to throw away the wrappings. 

The sudden movement has the deep cut sleeves of his shirt fluttering open, giving you a glimpse of the thick patch of hair on his chest, and how it tapers off and down past his belly button. Your thighs find each other again, and you look up to the ceiling silently, trying to regain all the strength you thought you’d just found. 

“And the lettuce - uhh, are you okay?” Steve’s confusion makes all the blood in your body rush to the apples of your cheeks as you try to hide your internal struggle with a smile.

“Yeah, we’re good. Never been better. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you ramble, brushing past him to the station he’s set up for you.

“…Right,” he starts with a pause before choosing to leave it alone, “I just need you to kind of rip the lettuce up, you can cut it if you want but I think bigger pieces would be better.”

You aren’t expecting his voice to come from right behind you, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck. Your own goosebumps rise, dotting across exposed skin and you hope he doesn’t notice but the way he lingers in your space for a little longer despite the nod of your head makes you think otherwise. The spice of his cologne grows faint along with his footsteps against the tile floor, finding a home on the other side of the kitchen, busying himself with what he had started before.

Eddie turns on the radio, easing some of the tension from your muscles, and relaxing your shoulders as you get a good grip on the handle of the knife.

You could do this, easy. 

You really start to believe it too when you cut all the jalapeños, even humming along to an old Judas Priest song that you and Eddie used to blast in his van after school. Peeling the onion, you pretend that you don’t see the reflection of Steve staring at you from the glass of the microwave as you sway your hips and bop your head to the beat.

“So, New York huh?” He finally breaks, and your eyes flutter to the reflection to see him putting away all the spices he’d pulled out while you were smoking. “You likin’ it?”

Your movements freeze for a second, and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth with all the things you’ve dreamed of saying to him. Years of coming up with all the ways you’d tell him how much better you were without him. A recurring fantasy of a ten year reunion where you’d show up with your famous screenwriter husband you’d met on the Subway, turning your nose at him and whatever Hawkin’s girl he’d managed to knock up. But instead, the universe has you here five years too early, and Steve isn’t the same guy you’d left even if you don’t quite trust it yet.

Picking up the knife again, you roll your shoulders with a quiet breath before cutting into the onion once more as you search for the words to answer.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s big and it can be a little scary sometimes but I can be myself there,” it comes out a little quieter than intended but you still twist your hips to meet his gaze from across the kitchen where he stands with crossed arms giving you his full attention. “No one really cares what you do.”

“Who are you trying to be out there?” He asks like he has no idea what small talk is, the greens in his eyes shimmering against the last bit of sunlight that shines on his face.

“Someone stronger than who I was in high school,” you whisper, turning back around to focus on the task at hand and not your ex trying to dig into the depths of your soul while you cut onions.

“You were always the strongest person I knew,” he counters, and you can practically hear the shrug that you know follows his words.

”You certainly liked to test it.” 

It comes out before you can bite your tongue, your knife slicing right into the center of the onion and hitting the cutting board roughly, adding dramatic effect.

”Ouch,” he hums with a small laugh, silverware clanking against the metal of the sink behind you as he finishes cleaning up his mess, “I guess I deserved that one.”

“Steve.” You stop cutting, dropping the knife to look at him, unintentionally swiping your eye in the process, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I promised Rob- oh fuck!”

The burning in your right eye becomes unbearable, the tears spilling freely down your cheek blurring your vision with a harsh sting.

”Oh, oh no. Did you touch your eye?!” Steve sounds panicked, sneakers scuffling against the tile as he hurries to grab a washcloth from the drawer. 

“It was an accident!” You whine, closing your eyes as tight as you can, willing the burning tears to stop, the sound of water running from the sink filling your ears, “God it hurts so bad, Steve.”

”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”

The coolness of the rag provides instant relief when he presses it gently to your eye. Taking a deep breath, you feel the warmth of his palm rub up and down your arm soothing your irritated nerves more. The sting doesn’t fully go away, but it subsides enough for the tears to slow down as he applies a little more pressure before removing it to wet it again. Blinking past the burning, you finally realize just how close you are to him now. 

Chests practically touching, you can see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw despite being able to tell that he shaved today. The vampire bites on his neck that used to be your favorite to kiss taunt you for what feels like the millionth time this week. With cedar and musk filling your lungs, it feels impossible to breathe.

He cuts off the water, turning towards you again, and you aren’t prepared for the depth in his eyes meeting yours from this distance. They’re soft when they look at you, the chestnut inside them warming gold as you stare back at him a little dazed. Calloused fingertips stop their path up your arm to gently grab your chin, tilting your face up to his so he can get a better look at the damage. He’s sweet with the way moves your head around, the pad of his thumb smoothing the skin under your irritated eye.

”I think you’ll be okay, I don’t see any seeds or anything trapped inside,” he whispers, thumb never stopping its movements while his gaze flicks down to your lips that pout on their own, something electric charging in the air.

The sliding glass door opens behind him before you can answer, Robin and Eddie making their presence known in a loud burst of energy. Snatching the wet rag from his hand, you’re quick to put distance between you. Placing the cool cloth against your face, you make your way out of the kitchen before anyone can ask you anything about what happened. Muttering a “thanks Steve '' on your way to assess just how ruined your makeup is in the bathroom. 

Your heart pounds in your ears feeling the ghost of his touch everywhere, chest tightening because your body won’t stop screaming for more.

You stay in the bathroom long enough for the burning to subside, mumbling words that resemble some kind of pep talk while scrubbing your hands. Fingers that still shake with nerves fix your smudged mascara, listening for the moment their voices go quiet behind the sliding glass door before you decide to finally venture out. The sound of Steve’s laugh catches in your ears, as you make your way through the empty trailer, the corners of your lips curling on their own as you tug on the handle that separates you from them. The humidity is quick to turn your skin sticky despite the sun disappearing behind the trees. 

”There she is! I heard Harrington tried to blind you,” Eddie chuckles from his place crouched in front of the fire. A half smoked cigarette dangling lazily from the side of his mouth as he ‘stokes’ the flames, the crackling wood competing with the buzz of the cicadas that surround you.

”Riddle me this, Steve, why is it that whenever someone ’helps’ you cook, they end up in the hospital or worse, almost BLIND!” 

From her spot sitting on one of the many faded red plastic lawn chairs they have circled around the pit, Robin doesn’t hesitate to turn it into a dog pile with dramatics that could rival an Oscar winning actress.

Steve rolls his eyes, the warm light from the smaller flame of the grill glowing underneath him, highlighting his sharp features. His gaze meets yours, ignoring his friends, and you swear even from here, you can see the green inside each eye shine. You know there’s a million questions he wants to ask but there’s only one that comes out, and it’s soft just like the way he touched you inside.

”Are you okay?”

It’s hard for you to look anywhere but his face, remembering just how pretty it was up close. Your eyes trace the straight line of his nose, and the curve of his full bottom lip before finally meeting his eyes. The small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth reminds you that you haven’t answered him yet but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Robin’s low whistle do all the talking.

”Uhh, yeah, I’m good. Crisis averted,” you mumble, snapping out of it, cheeks warming up enough to compete with the fire pit you stumble around, landing in the seat next to your best friend. “No jalapenos on mine, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.

Without a cloud in an almost completely dark sky, you start to see the twinkling of the stars you’ll always miss begin to appear. They battle for your attention against the fireflies that flicker through the tall grass and into the woods. Lighter fluid stings your nose when Steve squirts more onto the burning coals, switching from hot dogs to burgers like he’s been grilling for a family of four his whole life.

A couple of beers calm your nerves that threaten to give you away, watching Steve in his element like this, the holes cut in his shirt showing off every flex of his muscles as he flips the patties. Cheese melting over the burger meat, just like your body that sinks further into the lawn chair that sticks to the backs of your thighs. He throws you a knowing look, making you clear your throat. Straightening your posture, you try to join in Robin and Eddie’s conversation like you hadn’t just been caught. Taking another long swig of the bitter semi cold liquid, you hope it’s enough to get you through dinner.

It’s not.

Steve takes the seat across from you when he’s finished cooking, manspreading with his paper plate in his lap. You fight the urge to look at the tan line of his inner thighs that are revealed by his loose fitting shorts, laughing a little too loud at Eddie’s jokes, desperate to keep your struggle hidden. Even going as far as acting interested when Robin starts talking about her reasons why she likes to buy certain things from the three different grocery stores in town. 

It’s when a dribble of ketchup lands on top of Steve's hand after a large bite that you lose your cool. Right between his thumb and index finger, he hums with cheeks full of food before those full lips of his wrap around the spilled sauce, cleaning it with a flick of his tongue.

”I’m gonna throw my plate away, is anyone else done?” You squeak, standing up abruptly, your chair nearly falling backwards in the process. 

“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”

“Just trying to be a good house guest is all,” you lie, making Eddie quirk an eyebrow, the dimples in his cheeks coming out to play again.

”Uh huh.” He smirks before handing you his plate that Robin quickly piles hers on top of. “Sure.”

”That’s very sweet of you,” Steve chimes in, with a lopsided grin on his face that makes you want to punch the air and get out of here. 

“She’s pure class Harrington, get it right,” Robin comes for the save with a knowing wink that only makes the heat growing in your cheeks worse.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble quickly turning on your heel, feeling all their eyes on you as you make your way to the back door of the trailer.

”Hurry back. We're gonna play Never Have I Ever,” your best friend calls out over her shoulder making you wish you could just stay inside when the sliding glass door closes behind you.

Embers spark and pop from the fire before they disappear into the night sky, the full moon’s white glow stopping just along the dark edges of the trees that surround the backyard. The four of you sit around the pit with fresh beers in hand. The buzz of the alcohol turning Steve’s gaze heavy as he stares at you from across the flickering flames. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look everywhere but his direction, and hope he doesn’t see the way your thighs press under the heat of it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea Robin?” Eddie whispers, big brown eyes glancing between the both of you, and your bouncing knee.

”It’s fine, they’ll be fine. Right guys?” She waves the metal head off, nudging you with her elbow, completely unphased.

”Of course we’ll be fine, why wouldn’t we be fine?” You snap, tugging the bottom of your skirt down, all the built up tension turning into aggression. Steve smiles into his next gulp.

“Whoa, whoa. I was just asking, but you do seem a little tense.” She raises her hands in surrender, both her eyebrows disappearing behind her shaggy bangs while Eddie distracts himself by poking the fire.

“Relax, it’s just a game,” Steve sighs, settling deeper in his chair, the warm amber in the flames bouncing off the mischievous gold in his eyes that keep their hold on you. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”

Your gaze narrows, the grip on your beer tightening enough to hear the pop of the metal.“Yep,” you manage to get out, shooting Eddie a glare when he snorts.

“If you guys say so,” he starts, ignoring your scowl while getting cut off by Robin who’s practically vibrating in her seat now.

”Let’s have fun already. I’ll start.” Robin shushes him before acting like she’s deep in thought, turning to face you with the kind of grin on her face that tells you she’s up to no good, “Never have I ever…let some Wall Street douchebag go down on me in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.”

“That’s weirdly specific- oh wait! Damn! Princess!” Eddie whoops when you take a swig with a roll of your eyes, flipping Robin the bird. 

“Gotta try everything once, right?” You shrug, holding his gaze with a smirk, not even trying to hide that you’re taking great pleasure in the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the new found information of your life outside of here. “He had a nice mouth when he wasn’t using it for talking.”

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, the mossy greens in his eyes turning dark as you lean back in your chair smugly.

“She’s a wild one, I’ll tell ya,” Robin giggles fondly, passing the baton to you with a proud smile.

Maybe it was the beer or the incessant way Steve’s presence drove you to the brink of insanity by rageful lust. Or even just the way he sat across from you with his legs spread wide like he ruled the world, whatever it was, that's what’s to blame for the question that rolls off your tongue.

“Never have I ever taken someone’s virginity.”

Robin’s jaw drops, guffawing with a harsh slap on your leg, mouthing a ‘you said you’d be nice’ but the buzz of the alcohol keeps a lopsided grin on her face. Eddie drinks, nervously watching the staring contest going on between you and Steve. Like a dog and its owner trying to establish dominance, both of you refuse to be the one who looks away first. Taking two gulps for good measure, he smacks his lips loudly when he’s done, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his wrist. Raising his eyebrows at you in a silent challenge.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.

”Who’s next? Who's next?” Robin urges with a flick on your knee, forcing you to fold and give her your attention with a blink of your eyes and it feels like the first time in hours that you finally look at someone other than Steve. 

Your teeth clench, grinding at the thought that even after all this time he’s still got this kind of hold on you, and it has you riding the thin line between wanting to give him a black eye or have him take you for a spin in his beemer for old times sake. 

“Eddie,” raising your can in his direction, he meets you in the middle with a cheers that doesn’t quite touch before slinking back in his chair with an exhausted huff.

“Hmmm, what do I want to reveal about myself?” He hums deep in thought, metal rings clinking against tin in a familiar tune as he taps his fingers around his beer can, “Never have I ever… been in a threesome, despite being titled ‘freak’ of Hawkins.”

“Really?” Robin seems genuinely shocked, making you giggle.

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy to me too.” Eddie shrugs, with a knowing grin that doesn’t quite sit right in your gut.

That’s when you see it. Steve taking a drink.

”WHAT?!” Your best friend squeals practically jumping from her seat, clearly something that's not common knowledge being revealed.

Jealousy is an ugly monster, and it finds a home deep inside your chest tonight, turning you green with it. Your half empty beer can crunches the more your fingers dig into the tin, eyes narrowing when he just responds to Robin with a coy smirk and a shrug bringing his attention back to you.

”Gotta try everything once right?” Steve mocks, full pink lips curling up at the corners as he takes another sip.

Your heart sinks with your stomach, the muscles in your face doing the same before you have a chance to stop it. Visions of red nails and pink lips that don’t belong to you dance through your head, and the smug smirk he probably wore while his big hands gripped their hips taking turns making them moan his name. The sound of your can completely collapsing in a loud crunch gets everyone’s attention, and you ignore the softened expression on Steve’s face trying to capture your gaze again. Eddie clears his throat, throwing you a life line before opening a new can of beer with a suggestion you’ve never been more grateful for.

”Alright Steve, your turn.” 

Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.”

A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 

“Look, she was a college senior, okay? I was only a sophomore and she was way cooler than me. Judge me all you want, but it worked didn’t it?” She argues, lifting her beer to the sky before taking a sip proudly. “No regrets!”

Her smile is contagious, easing some of the tension when you and Eddie giggle meeting each other's eyes from across her honey blond waves. You can feel Steve’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, the heat of it in direct competition with the fire that thrives off the light breeze that rustles through the trees. 

“Aright, alright, never have I ever faked getting off.” She wiggles her eyebrows with a toothy grin, looking at Eddie specifically who gives her a dead stare in response, clearly something told to her in confidence. 

Biting your lip, you really weren’t going to add more fuel to the fire but when you finally meet Steve’s eyes that have been begging for your attention this whole time, you can’t help but douse the flames with the whole can of gasoline. Another flash of different shades of lipstick staining the freckles you loved to kiss so much sending another wave of rage down to your core.

”I can think of a few times.” You snort loudly, holding his gaze and pointedly stealing everyone else's attention before polishing off the last of your crumpled can.

Steve’s jaw clenches hard enough that you swear you can hear his teeth crunch together. Nostrils flaring with a gaze so dark it threatens to swallow you whole, all traces of honey and warmth gone, leaving you chilled to the bone.

”I think we’re done with this game Robin,” he grunts, standing up with a kick of his chair and for once his eyes don’t search for yours as he stomps across the yard towards the yellow light of the trailer. 

“Seriously!” Your best friend groans, slinking back in her chair with a hand running down her face, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

”Yeah, genius! I told you, but nooo, you didn’t want to listen to me.” Eddie scoffs into his beer can, using his free hand to poke at the fire.

”Can you go, like, talk to him or something?” Robin turns to you with an almost pleading look that gets more prominent the more your face turns sour.

“Me?! I have to go talk to him? Seriously? He’s the one who stormed off,” you argue, crossing your arms.

”Yeah, well you clearly hurt his feelings.” She points at his pacing figure through the kitchen window and it takes everything inside of you not to tell her that he hurt yours first.

The two of you stare each other down, the wills of stubbornness at battle until her eyes go soft, big and glassy. 

“Please,” she begs, pulling out the big guns, and jutting out her bottom lip.

You hold her gaze for a few more seconds before surrendering with a roll of your eyes, huffing loudly when you uncross your arms to stand up, making her face light back up.

”I hate you. More than anything.”

Eddie cackles loudly at your lie, digging in his front pocket for a smushed pack of cigarettes.

“We all know you don’t mean that,” she hums with a content smile, leaning over to snatch the freshly lit tobacco from the metalhead’s mouth, waving at you as you start to follow Steve’s path up to the trailer. “Please don’t kill him!”

Closing the sliding glass door behind you, a shiver runs up your spine when the coolness of the air conditioning hits your sticky skin. The sound of running water catches in your ears from the kitchen along with the murmur of his voice under its rush.You can’t quite make out what he’s saying to himself, even when you reach the doorway. 

Hunched over the sink, his shoulder blades flex with every harsh scrub of the pan. His hat rests on the counter, and you can’t help but notice the wild way his hair sits on the top of his head from wearing it all day, sun kissed tips curling from the humidity. Clearing your throat just loud enough to alert him of your presence, you watch the way his whole body goes rigid. It only lasts for a moment before he recovers, shutting off the water with a lazy slap of his hand. Turning around he grabs the dish towel next to him to dry off, meeting your gaze with a little more color in his eyes, flecks of gold trying to shimmer in a raging storm.

Having his full attention on you, alone like this, is enough for your tongue to go numb. The back of your throat turns into sandpaper, making it impossible for words to find their way out. A big hand runs through his hair, fingers getting caught on a knot at the end that he works out with ease, a gentle sigh deflating his defensive chest just a little before he speaks.

“Hey.” 

Anger still boils under all of the attraction, along with the jealousy you aren’t willing to acknowledge.You aren’t ready. You can’t do this yet.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, turning on your heel and leaving just as quickly as you arrived.

You ignore the way he calls after you, seeking solace in the place that's become your hiding spot for the night. Fingers wrap around the handle to the familiar room, you stop in your tracks when a warm patch of light leaking out from a crack in a door that wasn’t opened before catches your attention. 

You can smell the cedar from here.

Glancing over your shoulder to see if he followed you, it changes the course of your direction when you discover that he didn’t. Taking a few steps across the hallway, you’re careful not to let the hinges creak when you push his bedroom door open a little more. Your senses quickly become overwhelmed with everything that makes Steve, Steve. You throw another cautious look down the hallway before crossing the invisible line. Closing the door like how you found it, you let your curiosity get the best of you. 

It’s cleaner than you thought it’d be now that he doesn’t live inside the Harrington’s massive house anymore. His bed is bigger, the twin sized mattress that you used to squeeze into traded in for a queen. The navy blue comforter that looks soft to the touch is laid out messy on white sheets, a digital clock with glaring red numbers that read 10:30 pm on the nightstand next to it. 

The carpet under your feet is a heather gray, and you can tell that it’s scratchy even with your shoes on. Patrick Swayze watches your every move from the Roadhouse poster hanging on his wall, the floor creaking as you make your way toward the small work desk in the corner. Your eyes linger on the impressive way all his dirty clothes manage to be in his hamper before they find the framed pictures spread over his desk. 

There’s one of him with the middle school boy you knew as Dustin Henderson perched on his back, only he looks much older than you remembered. The curls still give him away despite the braces free smile. Both of them grin hard enough for their eyes to crinkle in the corners like they had finally stopped laughing long enough for someone to snap this picture. 

You fight back the way your cheeks threaten to push up, not surprised to find one of him and Robin at what looks like Lover’s Lake, both of them striking the same pose with inflatable tubes around their waists wearing matching bucket hats and sunglasses.

The guy in these photos doesn’t seem anything like the one you remember and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it. They look the same.

”I don’t think this is the bathroom, do you?” Steve’s voice makes you jump, heart stopping in your chest for a split second before you meet his questioning stare with a guilty face of your own. 

His arms are crossed over his chest as leans against the door frame, unintentionally pulling the collar of his shirt down giving you a glimpse of the patch of hair and the gold chain underneath. The softness in his eyes from the kitchen is gone as he stares you down, it’s replaced with something you can’t quite put your finger on but the intensity of it raking over your body has your thighs meeting for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His full pink lips twist into a sarcastic smirk as he pushes off the wood, taking the next few steps into his room.

”Did you really mean what you said out there?” He questions, dark eyes sparkling the more you squirm under the heat of them.

”Mean what? I said a lot of things out there. We all did.” Narrowing your gaze, you try to take back some semblance of control, squaring up your shoulders at him but the dark chuckle you get in response tells you it’s a futile attempt.

“I didn’t say anything about you specifically though, did I?” Steve counters, stopping just a few feet away from you, tongue poking at the side of his cheek, “No, I don’t think I did.”

He hums, uncrossing his arms to mimic your stance in a silent challenge, eyebrows raised waiting on your response.

”I didn’t say anything about you specifically either.” Jutting out your chin in defiance, it's your turn to cross your arms now. Maturity at its finest.

He doesn’t answer you, instead he holds your eyes with his own and it takes everything inside of you not to look away. Your tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he starts to take a few steps closer, broad shoulders making the room feel small when the toes of his sneakers meet yours.

“I don’t think you ever faked anything with me.” He looks down his nose at you, smelling like summer nights and everything you’ve tried to forget.

”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. 

He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb.

“I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?”

It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.

”W-what?” Your stutter gives you away, but at least you tried to fight one last time before he went in for the kill.

The whites of his teeth show in the kind of smile that tells you he was hoping you’d ask just that. Leaning in, his palms land on his desk finding purchase on either side of your hips, caging you in. He’s close enough for the tip of his nose to brush against yours, close enough to smell the wheat from his beer on the warm breath that fans against your lips. 

“You wouldn’t still look at me the way you do, if I hadn’t made you feel good honey. And you know what else?” 

His voice goes deep as he whispers, nose nudging at your cheek before his lips hover right by your ear making you shiver, goosebumps making their second appearance of the day. Your hands find the edge of his desk, chest brushing against his in a deep breath feeling the slightest touch of his lips against the soft spot right behind it.  

“I know I can make you cum harder with my tongue than some Wall Street asshole, who doesn’t even know what to do under the hood of that fancy car he spent so much money on.” His grip on the desk tightens at the thought, wood groaning under the stress of it and it has your thighs spreading for him on their own.

“Steve -”

His fingers grab your chin like at the shop with just a firm enough hold for you to pull away if you want to but you can’t bring yourself to do it when his eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You wonder if it's just a mirror reflection of your own as he takes some of the new space you’ve given him, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body where yours screams for him most. His brows furrow when your noses brush and he swears he can taste the watermelon of your lip gloss, and then he knows he can when he feels your fingers curl into his shirt tugging him closer.

“I think,” he breathes into your mouth, hesitating just enough to soak it in a second longer before pulling away with an almost pained expression that he quickly tries to cover up, “I think it’s time for me to take you and Robin home.”

He steps back and out of your space, a nervous hand running through his hair like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. His eyes meet yours again and there's something apologetic that swirls in the deep forest that watches you tug your skirt down straightening up.

”I’ll uh, I’ll give you a minute while I go wrangle Robin.” 

He takes one last look at you like he really needs to be sure of something before finally walking out and leaving you alone to wonder how the night ended with you here. Skirt rucked up, trying to catch your breath in Steve Harrington’s room.

———-

🌻 beta’d by @superblysubpar

🌻 chapter three

[deansapplepie]

The Spitting Image | Part 1

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Word Count: 4,419

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

Series Masterlist Part 2

Main Masterlist

It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.

That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.

United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.

There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.

That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.

“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”

You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.

“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.

“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…

“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.

“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.

“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”

“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”

“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”

“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.

“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”

You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.

The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”

“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.

“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.

“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.

The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.

“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.

“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.

Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.

You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.

At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.

“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”

“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”

“Thought you never cussed.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.

Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.

“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.

“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?

“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.

In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.

“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.

“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.

“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”

Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.

“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.

“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.

“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.

“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”

He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”

By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.

A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.

The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.

Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”

“A car.” He answered the obvious.

“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.

“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”

“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.

“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”

“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.

“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.

“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.

As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.

“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.

“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.

You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.

“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.

He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.

It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.

You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.

You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”

“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.

“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.

He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.

“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”

Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.

You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.

Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.

“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.

“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.

“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.

DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.

“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.

“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.

“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.

“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.

“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.

“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”

“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.

“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”

He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.

“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”

“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.

“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.

“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.

“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[chrollohearttags]

that cabin eren look has changed the trajectory of my life and given me the stupidest idea ever lmfaogekgs! Just walk with me for a minute

content: musician au ofc, sexual references, reverb lore (?), ony, armin and connie being aggravating as hell lmfaooo, comedy them being big ass kids, ony using the n word (nb’s keep it cute)

📝: I’m reporting live from the ER so I need something to keep me entertained. 😭 this is so dumb, forgive me.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

“Nah, tell them folks the full story! Go ahead.”

“Look at him getting embarrassed. He’s so cuteee.”

the sound of clicking keys and controllers rang out over the headsets, among the loud laughter and chatter coming from those wearing them. The four illustrious artists, EJ the Don, Armin Hammer, Prince Cee and Ony The God; forming the collective known as Dead Boys Society were normally coming together to perform their many hits, or even comprise music. But tonight? They had a whole other reason..or two rather!

“Tell your mama’s story, bitch. Ain’t nothing to talk about.”

on one of the very rare occasions that the gentleman accrued some free time, they decided to host a Twitch stream. Playing video games, previewing new music and just having a good time. That was until they decided to bring them out…the infamous photos.

Ony, who was in full blown hysterics, falling out of his chair in laughter as he hoisted his phone to the camera. He could barely even be contained. “Look at this nigga, bro! You couldn’t tell him shit.” And the others followed suit. “Malibu’s Most Wanted looking ass.” Armin was just in hysterics, trying to cover his face. Eren, however was not as enthused! “Say sum’, Armin. I dare you and I’m going dead in your shit when I see you again.” “Don’t get mad at me because you were the mall whore. Getting passed around.” Which was so ironic coming from him! Because during the stream, the conversation of their previous lives and how they met came about. Ony divulged that he and Connie had known each other a long time and even went to school together. The pair played basketball as well. When they were seventeen, they began working at the Bayside Mall in a shoe store. Which is where they met EJ, who had just enrolled at their high school as well. The three became really close and eventually that they not only shared an affinity for sneakers but music also. They’d compose songs, make beats and mess around during their shift. When the three of them worked together, the store was packed to the brim, even with a line out the door. Due in part to their main attraction: the cute boy from Jersey with the green eyes and the voice of angel. At any given time, there would R&B and rap playing and he would know every word. Definitely a rarity in the urban area! Connie, who vividly remembered him wanting to be in the stock room but the manager insisting on Eren being on the floor. Thanks to Ony’s suggestion! Because of that, every girl from here to Opa Locka wanted a piece, even telling him they wanted his baby! It was utter chaos. “(Y/N), ma. I’m sorry but your man had hoes. In there serenading them girls and they used to eat that shit up. They loved him. He had like three baby mamas and four step kids before he left.” Rolling his eyes, Eren would take a sip of his drink and try to interject. Defending his honor because lord knows no one else would! “Nah, they were trying to exploit me. Pimping me out for corporate gain. Bunch of bastards.” And (y/n) was just enjoying this little storytime of your man. Exposing his younger self. So when Ony showed the photos of him in his uniform with a gold chain, a tapered fade and Nikes on, posing with his fingers up, you couldn’t help but to laugh. He was just as adorable then as he was now! It most certainly wasn’t his proudest moment. Hence why he loved having hair long now.

“A white boy with a fade singing Pretty Ricky and Trey Songz and you thought we wasn’t gon’ put that nigga front and center? That was our meal ticket. We had to do something.”

and you fell clean over, unable to hold it together! Along with the chat who was spamming a plethora of ‘LMAO’ ‘s and scrambled letters. A mess! “If it means anything, baby. I think you look handsome.” Squeezing his cheeks and cooing to him as consolation. And he was not trying to hear it.

“It don’t mean shit, but thank you, princess.”

He blocked everybody that night and refused to give you any dick for a week straight because of this lil’ escapade. 😭 “I thought shit was funny, what happened?”

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolate and Cream

Eddie x Venom x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, inappropriate use of chocolate, Venom's tongue should be a warning on its own, oral (Fem Receiving), piv sex, creampie, protected sex (personal headcanon that Venom can make it so the baby batter don't bake ;)), Venom is a great source of birth control, a bit of fluff, food play(?), Eddie and Venom love you so much, spme anal, squirting, Eddie and Venom definitely bang too tho IMO (PSA: PLEASE DO NOT PUT CHOCOLATE ON YOUR KITTY LADIES THAT'S HOW YOU YOU GET INFECTIONS)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Woo! My first Eddie/Venom fic! (Technically) This is based off a private fic an old friend of mine requested that I wrote years ago, adjusted more for a curvy reader, part of some of my self-indulgent fics regarding us gals on a thicker scale :)

🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷

You took one last look in the mirror, proudly nodding your head at your handiwork. It was a pain in the ass, for sure to get done, but with the help from some people in an anonymous kink forum, they were able to help you get this surprise for your lovely boyfriends.

You see, one of your boyfriends had this "thing" for chocolate. He needed to consume an insane amount of it or he'd have to resort to... other methods of gaining a certain chemical to sustain himself...

And of course, that's how this lovely idea came to be. Edible panties were soooooo boring!

Your body covered in chocolate-based body paint however...

You had painstakingly painted cute little hearts over your body, with some artistic swirls for extra flair. You kept your apartment freezing to avoid your body heat melting it too much, or while you painted around your nipples, the rolls of your belly, and of course somewhere far more intimate...

Then came the waiting game. You didn't know when they'd be home from running their "night errands". You knew full well what that meant, and you didn't really focus too much on that fact. It helped you sleep easier at night

You should have thought this through, though. If you sat down on your couch, the chocolate would stain it. You could sit on one of your dining chairs, but the surface was far too cold for your poor bare ass to handle right now.

Shit. Well, you could always--

You jumped back with a shriek, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and held it out, obscuring the view of your body from the hulking dark mass that squeezed through your apartment's window.

You relaxed slightly, your breath escaping you in a sigh.

"Venom!" You scolded. "You gave me a heart attack! Why can't you and Eddie use the front door?"

The large creature grinned, revealing jagged fangs that sent shivers of excitement up your spine. Or maybe you were just cold.

"It is faster, this way." Venom replied.

He tilted his head at you, and how peculiarly you were holding the blanket, concealing yourself from him. Then... He tipped his head back, sniffing the air.

"We smell chocolate." He growled, his voice excited as he tilted his head at you. "Are you baking, sweet thing?"

You suddenly felt very small, very awkward. Like a bunny caught in the trap about to be devoured by a hungry wolf. You'd be lying if you didn't feel a little turned on.

You also felt very stupid. God, this was so silly. Why did you...

Venom began to stalk closer, having to lean down to avoid hitting his head on your low ceiling.

"What are you hiding, sweet thing?" His voice rumbled lowly.

"Uhm..." You peep, squirming backwards, awkwardly looking around for a way out of this stupid situation you got yourself into.

"What." Venom said, each word punctuated by a step. "Are. You. Hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything!" You lie.

"Really?" He purrs, his tongue laving out to taste at the air. "Because it smells like you're hiding something delicious from us."

"I..." You take a step back further, only to bump into the wall, squealing when your bare back makes contact with the cold drywall.

And in a blink of your eyes, Venom was there, his large, opalescent eyes narrowing at you, his maw curling into a lascivious grin.

Yeah. He was definitely salivating.

"What are you hiding behind the blanket, sweet thing?" He purred once more, his massive paws gripping the plush knit quilt.

"Uh--"

"Last chance."

"It's... Uh...." You flounder for an excuse.

In the span of a few seconds, the blanket is ripped away and you squeak, your arms locking and Venom's eyes get big and his head rocks back as he looks down at you.

(Holy shit.) Eddie's voice breathed from inside his head.

Venom's grin spreads even wider as he tilts his head slowly in the other direction. "I knew you were hiding something delicious."

"I just... I wanted to, uh..."

Venom pressed his mouth to your throat, and you could feel his heavy, wet breaths as he inhaled your scent, his large hands gripping the upper parts of your arms as he held you there, against the wall, just breathing.

It felt like forever you were standing there, the feeling of him just... breathing on you was enough to get you hot and bothered.

"You smell delicious." He grumbled against your throat, opening his mouth to let his tongue slide out.

The moment it wrapped around your throat was electric. It sent a throb of arousal straight through to your core.

You let out a watery sigh, your breaths leaving you in trembled gasps as his tongue slides lower, through the chocolate on your sternum, and wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the chocolate melting and smearing under his hot breath and saliva.

"Did you do this for us, sweet thing?" Venom asked as he pulled away, looking down at you. "You wanted to surprise us? Hmm?"

"I... I got the idea online, and..." You said, somehow finding it within yourself to still be embarrassed.

"It is a tasty surprise." He said lowly, curving a taloned finger along your cheek. He leaned in and placed a small, unusually chaste kiss to your cheek.

"But you definitely taste better." He whispered into your ear.

You couldn't suppress the little noise that comes from your throat.

"Let us clean you, sweet thing."

Fuck, why did his voice have to have that bone-vibrating frequency? Why the fuck did it have to be so sexy?! Him and Eddie both! Especially Eddie's morning voice! Ugh! It wasn't fair how easy they could just render you stupid.

Venom got on his knees in front of you and brought his mouth to your chest, swiping his hefty tongue through the chocolate, a low rumbling emitting from him the whole time, sending those wonderful tremors through your very bones as he took his time cleaning you, licking up every drop of chocolate from your body, moving lower and lower...

Fuck, you'd swear Venom's purring would be a great substitute for a vibrator. Not that you ever needed one. The moment Venom could pick up on your scent and told Eddie, they were all over you. It was especially bad when you were about to start your cycle. Venom would go feral and pounce on you the moment he picked up on your hormones.

Your train of thought derailed somewhere around the thought of that one time Eddie woke you up with his hand between your legs and crashed into the station of Venom's tongue plunging through your now-soaked folds.

"We were right. You do taste better." Venom purred right into your cunt, making you gasp and cry out. "Though the chocolate compliments your taste well."

"Fuck!" You cry as he hoists your legs over his shoulders, pushing you up the wall with how forcefully he was thrusting his tongue inside of you; his massive arms caging you in and his hands groping and squeezing at your breasts as he voraciously ate you out.

You felt his tongue press against that wonderfully world-spinning spot inside your spongy walls, drawing out and drinking down more and more of your slick as he snarled into your puffy folds.

Your nails clawed at his arms, doing no damage to his odd "skin", and if anything it was encouraging him to go further.

You felt the tip of his tongue press on your cervix before rolling back around and curling, the pink muscle writhing and wriggling inside of you like it was fighting desperately to become a part of you.

You had half a thought to let Venom bond with you for a little while and do something like this with Eddie...

You practically sobbed when Venom brought one of his hands down, squeezing the plush rolls on your belly, kneading them lovingly before pressing down beneath your belly button, where he could feel his tongue bulge and roil inside of you.

The orgasm that you were starting to feel build exploded, going off before you had a chance to prep, your eyes rolled back and you arched your spine, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your body unable to find its voice as everything came crashing down onto you; his tongue eagerly lapping up each drop, every bit of your sweet cream.

The moment his tongue slid out of you, you felt empty, bereft of his contact. You whined when he pulled away, and he kissed your neck, licking the skin again.

"Don't worry, sweet thing. Eddie just wants his turn with you, now." He snarled, easing you down onto the floor, his hands caressing your legs gently as he stood.

As his head reached height with yours, his scary, alien visage peeled and melted away, revealing Eddie's gorgeous eyes, full lips, and patchy stubble.

"Hey, baby." He chuckled, giving you a kiss as he pulled you against him.

"Hey..." You said, your voice weak and shaky.

"Nice surprise, by the way." Eddie smirked at you, his hands going down to grope and squeeze at your plush ass, his thumbs tracing every dimple. "Vee loved it."

"I could tell." You smile up at him.

"So... Let's move the after party to someplace more comfortable, huh?"

🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷

God it always surprised you. It didn't matter which one of them fucked you, but somehow they always did it in a way that made you feel like they were trying to bully their way into your guts with their cock.

You whimpered as Eddie hugged your legs against his chest, snapping his hips up into you with so much vigor that he kept rocking you up the couch cushions. Hell, one of the cushions was a few thrusts from being pushed off the couch entirely.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight." Eddie groaned, looking down at you as every soft part of your jiggled and bounced with the force of his thrusts. He loved how you looked when you were utterly fucked out. Venom did, too. Venom's favorite "hobby" that Eddie teased him for, was how he loved to grab you and squish you in his hands, and move you up and down on his cock like a sweet, soft little toy.

Of course, you enjoyed it, too.

Eddie moved your legs so they were on either side of him now as he leaned down and kissed you hard, his plush lips and tongue greedily dancing with yours, your soft hands sliding up his back, feeling the droplets of sweat roll off of him.

Eddie had hips, and he certainly knew how to use him. The way he arched his back and gyrated them, you were tempted to joke and say he should start pole dancing. Maybe you'd bring it up with him when he wasn't currently stuffing you nine different kinds of full with his fat cock.

The tickling of the short hairs at the base made contact with your clit at every thrust, sending little flames of pleasure licking up your spine.

"Eddie..." You moaned, gripping hard at his shoulders and squirming your hips against his.

He gritted his teeth and groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. "Fuck, baby." Eddie hissed, "You gettin' close?"

"Mhmm--" You say, nodding with a weak mewl.

You feel him grin against your throat and he sucked on your skin, leaving a nice, dark present on your skin. He pulled away, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Oh-kay--" He grunted, leaning back as he slowed his thrusts almost torturously slow.

The black mass that is Venom slinked around Eddie's torso, thick tendrils moving out and gripping beneath your knees, gently forcing them as comfortably close to your head as possible, your cunt fluttering gorgeously around Eddie's cock so well that you felt Venom shudder.

Eddie stopped moving for a second that felt like hours, before he leaned over, one hand on the back of the couch and the other gripping the arm of it behind your head before sending on hard, brutal thrust down.

The moment he did that, you shrieked so loud you were sure your downstairs neighbors could hear you--hell, maybe the people down in the street heard how well Eddie was fucking you (with Venom's help, of course).

The sinful sound of his cock sliding in and out of your hole, your slick-coated skin slapping against each other was deafeningly loud to your ears as he fucked you with his newfound leverage over you, hitting your g-spot at just the right angle it had your brain going almost numb from the pleasure.

When you cum, you cum hard. You soak Eddie's stomach and your thighs as your pussy clamps down on him. You got so tight that Eddie's pace stuttered and almost stopped, a gravelly whine crawling out of his throat.

"God... Fuuuuuck, baby..." He panted hard, grinding his hips down into yours, bringing his knee up and pressing one of your thighs tighter to your body.

"E-Eddie--" You mewl.

"Just--Just a bit more, baby, I promise." Eddie hissed, his eyes closing in pure bliss as he fucks the absolute heaven that is your sweet little cunt.

"God--damn!" Eddie practically squeaked.

You see Venom's head materialize over his shoulder and he grinned down at you through your glazed-over eyes.

Oh god. That was a favorite trick Venom liked to pull. Whenever Eddie was close to coming, sometimes Venom liked to force a tendril up his ass, squirming and tickling his prostate.

"Vee, you little shit--!" Eddie moaned.

"Keep fucking her, Eddie." Venom purred, his tongue sliding around Eddie's throat.

"Gonna beat your fucking--" He hiccuped, his hips stuttering and jolting into yours. "--beat your ass for this..."

"You say that every time. NOW KEEP FUCKING HER." Venom snapped, forcing the tendril deeper into Eddie's ass, this time pressing with more force on his prostate, eliciting a broken moan from him as he slapped his hips harshly into yours, your sweet cunt leaving a nice creamy ring around the base of his cock.

"Fuck, baby..." You whine, feeling tears burn in your eyes as your second orgasm starts to build.

Venom can sense it, and you were fucked the moment his head snapped to look at you.

Completely, utterly fucked.

A smaller tendril splits off from the ones still pinning your legs up, and latches onto your clit, pulling and tugging and rolling in a way that has the air knocked out of your lungs.

"Oh shhhii-iIiIII-iit..." You sob, clawing desperately at Eddie's shoulders, feeling Venom's tongue wrap around one of your wrists, eagerly lapping at your skin as if he could taste your nectar from that alone.

You and Eddie cum almost simultaneously, your orgasms slamming you like a runaway freight train.

You once again soak Eddie's stomach and crotch, your spray and cum dripping down to soak the couch cushions as Eddie's hot seed floods your soft, now-pliant walls, groaning as Venom presses inside of him, making his hips jerk until he's fucked every last drop into you.

Venom finally releases the two of you and Eddie collapsed, Eddie laying across your plush body, your rolls, and cute squishy fat being the perfect pillows for him. (Your breasts too, as he buried his face in them.)

The two of you breathe hard, your sweat mingling between your bodies as you cool off, shivers causing goosebumps to rise up and down Eddie's back as his heart slowed, the heavy echoes still pattering against yours.

"Eddie?" You breathe.

"Yeah." He grunted, voice muffled by your breasts.

"I think we're going to need to steam clean the couch."

Eddie and Venom both broke out laughing.

And here you were, worried about chocolate staining your couch. Turns out it was the cream that was the problem.

[justwonder113]

Showering Bang Chan with affection

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

Warning: gender neutral reader, Kinda suggestive but nothing is implied. Reader is Whipped but no worries so is Channie.

A/N- this is the first ever fic I've ever written about Stray kids so I'm really excited. I really hope you'll like it. Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open if you're interested. Sorry if the grammar is bad English isn't my first language. Word count- 750

You two laid on the bed, with you carefully watching your boyfriend with literal heart eyes and him playing on his phone. You finally managed and convinced the Bang Christopher Chan to take a day off and just rest. And now he was all snuggled up in his favorite hoodie his curly hair cutely messed up, skin glowing all nicely from the skincare evening you held and now he was immersed in his game.

You two were set on just chilling and having a lazy day content in each other's presence. You were reading your book and were set on finishing it but you got distracted by your boyfriend's grumbling. He mumbled something about someone cheating his pouty lips cutely jutted out. This adorable sight was enough to distract you from your book. Admiring your boyfriend felt more interesting anyways.

You had no idea how much time has passed since but still it didn't feel enough , he was so immersed in his game he didn't even notice your eyes on him. You didn't want to seem like a creep but you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He was literal perfection in your eyes, it felt like watching art piece at a museum. The way he had his eyebrows drawn in concentration, his happy giggles whenever something went his way or the way he pouted his pretty lips when it didn't, it had your heart jumping in your ribcage.

In fact he was pouting right bow and mumbling about something you didn't really catch on and also didn't really paid any mind to it. Now you had different goal you wanted to achieve. Your mind was occupied with only one thing, which was to kiss him senseless and that's what you were set on doing.

You set aside your book and slowly crawled to him, carefully getting in his lap to not disturb his game. His hands immediately wrapped around you and he quickly kissed your temple. It was cute how even when he was distracted he never failed to give you your much needed affection. It was little things like this that made you fall for him more and more every day, make you feel like a teenager experiencing love for the first time ever.

You felt kinda bad that you were distracting him but as soon as his warmth engulfed you, the second you felt his familiar comforting scent surround you you were a goner and all plans to stay put were gone.

At first you started leaving slow soft kisses on his neck, amused at the shivers that run down his whole body. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, he even muttered something you didn't quite catch on. The main thing was he was not opposed to your sudden affection so you gave yourself a green light. You kissed the spot on his neck that you knew was his weak spot and you couldn't help but smile when he giggled at the tickling feeling.

In a matter of seconds your self control was thrown out the window and you kept leaving kisses wherever you could reach, his neck, his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his squishy lips. You were so immersed you didn't even realize when he put his phone away, he put his arms around you, caging you against him now willing to let go even for a second. He watched you with eyes filled with so much love and passion, shining so brightly any star would be jealous, you were taken back for a second at the intensity of his gaze. God, you were so in love with this man. You sometimes even wondered if he could feel it. You were expressive with your feelings but you were not sure if you were fully expressing it, making him realize just how much he meant to you. Loving him was part of your being now, part of your existence. And you hated how there were not words that could be used to express your feelings.

Channie looked at you with knowing eyes, as always fully aware of what were you feeling and thinking. " I know love, I adore you more." He softly muttered against your cheek leaving a soft kiss there, sending shivers down your spine.

You huffed out a laugh while shaking your head, "Not possible love."

He playfully rolled his eyes, mischief glimmering on his beautiful face. "Let me prove it to you then" he whispered against your lips before sealing your them together.

[sleepyboywrites]

Nsfw Pasta Headcannons

My sincerest apologies I stumbled upon a few posts and couldn't stop thinking about it... Nsfw warning..

• Eyeless Jack

• 100% a top

• The only way you're topping him is when you ride him, which even then no you're not.

• Animalistic. Growls, grunts, and huffs. Tends to cage you beneath him like his prey as he plows you.

• Needy like an Alpha in Rut. I'm talking he'll grip on to you as he desperately ruts into you and because lust is a form of hunger for flesh the demonic man needs more than one round each session.

• Soft dom for sure and a service top who ideally wants a service bottom

• Think "Shh, little one, you're doing so good for me, you can handle a couple more rounds for me, hmm? Let me make you feel good a few more times, can't you?"

• Breeding kink, he doesn't care if he can't actually get you pregnant, if you don't have the "equipment" to do so, or if it'd make you uncomfortable to be, he doesn't have to make you pregnant in actuality, if you can't or don't want to he won't but he just loves to try. Just the thought of of pumping you so full of him and seeing you so full of him turns him on.

• Super into marking. Biting, hickies, claw marks, you name it. He likes leaving proof that you're his behind.

• He's practically blind so all of his other senses are heightened, he is legitimately so good at hitting all the right spots.

• Long tongue, monster cock, enough said.

• Likes cockwarming, specifically after the a session, you're just so warm and welcoming and full, why'd he want to pull out?

• If he wasn't such a clean freak, he'd probably be into butt plugs/keeping his cum inside you. But since I feel like he tries to keep personal spaces/property clean he wouldn't.

• Really good at aftercare, we're talking bubble bath, water, snacks, cuddles the works.

• Ben drowned

• Switch

• Loves to 'play' with you and have you 'play' with him

• Would 100% want to mess around while video gaming and the two of you probably have in whatever way you could ever think of.

• Also likes cockwarming but in a more traditional way of he just likes having you on his cock feeling your walls around him without doing anything other than being inside you or vice versa.

• Wants to fuck you or be fucked by you in full cosplay.

• He's a thigh guy. He likes thighs. He likes to sit with his head between your thighs and give you head.

• He also likes overstimulation so he likes to sit with his head squeezed between your thighs giving you head until you're crying and trembling and can't give him any more. Also enjoys should you do the same.

• So needless to say also a multiple rounds type of guy.

• Bro is almost always horny I swear to God. Like he'll watch you through your phone as you take a shower relieving himself as he does so and fucking you right after you get out. His Libido is insane.

• A wee bit of a somnophilliac. But think a 'yes' or 'no' pillow situation where if you ever fell asleep on the yes side you'd wake up cock drunk or vice versa.

• Also a dacryphilliac in the sense where he loves seeing you cry from pleasure overload.

• Has a mild degradation kink and likes it best when paired with praise. Think, "That a good slut, don't let a drop go to waste okay?"

• He's into hypnosis and mind control, something about being all foggy brained as he gets his guts rearranged/the glossy far away look in your eyes as he fucks you until you're dick drunk makes him hard as hell. He likes controlling you and being controlled by you.

• His idea of aftercare is falling asleep in your arms or with you in his arms waking up a few hours later to wash off the now cold and uncomfortable sticky situation putting on each other's shirts and waking up in the morning to have sex again, then water/breakfast if he's feeling sweet.

• Laughing Jack

• Probably hot take I think he wouldn't... I think he's ace and sex repulsed.

• I think because he was once a guardian angel for a child he just thinks it's really not for him and he's okay with that.

• But if his beloved asked for some 'help' in one way or shape or another he'd help them. Or if you asked him to 'play' with you. He would.

• He'd also watch you if you wanted him to and be really good with aftercare.

• Jeff the Killer

• "100"% Top, you'd be punished if you tried to top him and failed but if you tried and succeeded he'd bottom for you and probably enjoy it enough to let you top him again.

• Sadist

• Hard dom

• Brat tamer

• Somnophilliac and dacryphilliac, he likes it best when they go hand in hand

• Has a knife kink and likes knife play

• Needy and has a degradation kink. Think projecting insults and such. Like "Such a needy little cock slut, look at you, your body sucks me in so greedily, you really need to be dicked down so badly, huh slut?"

• Loves objectification and dumbification. Loves how your his cock sleeve, cum dumpster, and fuck toy.

• Would ideally have a brat as a partner and would ideally get to punish them every night.

• Likes tying you up and blindfolding you.

• Also likes edging a lot, in fact most nights is an edging session in itself. He loves to see how close he can get the both of you to climax without ever letting you or himself cum.

• Into orgasm denial as well. Like if you cum before you were given permission, he'll make sure you can't cum for the rest of the night while he cums plenty.

• Glory holes turn him on, he likes the thought of fucking you through one.

• Into breath play and choking, both giving and receiving

• He'll deadass just say "That was fun" or "Thanks baby!" or something along those lines, pull you to his chest while groping your ass as "aftercare"

• Homicidal Liu

• Soft dom/service top

• his nurturing nature extends to the bedroom. He has rules for you in the bedroom and out that if you follow will lead to rewards and if you don't lead to punishment.

• unless you misbehave then he'll have no choice but to punish you because brats don't get to cum or have 'playtime' at all, they get to watch 'sir' cum without them.

•orgasm denial/overstimulation

• On the other hand if you're good you get to cum until you physically can't anymore. Congratulations.

• Has a worship kink wants to worship you and be worshipped in return. He will lap you up like you're the nectar of the gods, savoring in your sweet, decadent noises until you melt in his mouth. Caressing you as he buried himself in your heat and feeling oh so powerful as you look at him lovingly as he pounds you taking pride in the fact he's the only one who's making you cum.

• Has a praise kink and will praise you non stop.

• Has a thing for thigh highs/garters/collars/ears and a tail

• Also has a thing for you wearing his clothes.

• Into dumbification in the sweet way. Think "Ah ah honey, thinking is my job. You're just my sweet little thing, let me take care of everything."

• He adores "easy access" anything

• into dacryphillia in the sense he likes making you cry from pleasure.

• The king of after care just like with EJ there will be bathing, water, snacks, praise, cuddles the works.

• Ticci Toby

• He's a switch in the term that he'd let you ride him while he was tied up, blindfolded, and unable to move or touch you and let you milk him dry. But you're not pegging/fucking him.

• Into roleplay scenarios.

• Likes seeing you half dressed, loves seeing you half dressed moaning beneath him or bouncing on his cock.

• Huge Pervert, you can't do anything without him getting bricked af.

• Likes strip teases/lap dances

• He adores "easy access" anything

• Loves marking and overstimulation. Also orgasm control. Basically anything that marks you as his or proves he's in charge of pleasuring you and only he truly satisfied you.

• I'll be so fr with you he also loves being covered in hickies by you.

• Also loves to tie you up. You're like a present for him and only him.

• He's down to try almost anything at least once.

• into dacryphillia in the sense he likes making you cry from too much intense pleasure.

• Has a thing for enthusiastic consent. It legitimately is something he cannot proceed without and it turns him on to know you want him that badly.

• Has a voice kink and a praise kink.

• He loves getting you dick drunk and likes it better when your hips grind needily against his after you're all orgasmed out but so foggy that you want more nonetheless as you warm his cock.

• He's surprisingly good at aftercare, he'll wash you up, bring you some water, tell you how happy and proud he is, and cuddle you.

• Brian/Hoodie

• 100% Top

• He has a Daddy Kink and likes dd/l

• He gets hard picking out your outfits and dressing you as well as bathing you.

• He's a soft Dom but he's rough in bed if the two of you had a dry spell he'll fuck you as desperately as EJ does.

• Otherwise however normally he treats you like you're made of glass as he fucks you.

• Has a kink/fetish for infantilization/dumbification. "Baby, sweetheart , doll face you can't take care of yourself. You're too little, so just stay with daddy, let daddy take care of you, make you feel good, hm?"

• Also has a breeding kink, he wants you to be filled with his seed each time the two of you fuck.

• He doesn't take kindly to teasing, if you tease him he'll edge and overstimulate you until you physically cannot cum anymore. Aka BIG on orgasm control

• He loves to leave hickies and bite marks all over you.

• He's also a somnophilliac, he likes making you squirm and whimper as you wake up on his cock.

• He has a corruption kink. He likes doing lewd things to his innocent looking partner/little.

• That leads us to dacryphillia he likes making you cry from intense pleasures he caused you as you tremble and cling to him

• He's very good, an expert even, at aftercare he does everything right so you are taken care of with both physical and mental needs.

• Tim/Masky

• 100% Top

• I feel like he likes to be called master or sir

• He has a thing for praising you

•A voice kink for hearing your pretty noises

• He loves manhandling you and likes to pin you down beneath him.

•Likes pulling hair/guiding your head via your hair.

• Gets hard as a rock when you wear his clothes he doesn't care what for

• He's into dumbification and getting you so drunk on pleasure that you forget your own name.

• Something about if you wear the hat you ride the cowboy and your cowboy has very good control so you're going to be there for a while until he's had his full which is when he'll actually start trying.

• He's into edging and overstimulation hand in hand meaning edging the two of you to each orgasm and then going until neither of you can cum anymore.

• This man loves marking you.

• He'll cover every inch he can with hickies and bite marks.

• In fact, the main reason you're sore is not only because he rocked your shit but you are covered in hickies and bite marks, everywhere, too much to even attempt to cover.

• He's an expert on aftercare and your aftercare is specifically catered to your needs as a partner and person as well as your physical needs: water, food if hungry, bathing.

[creature-wizard]

LOL, you shitheads again? You must really love getting your asses kicked if you're coming to me, of all people.

For anybody unaware, the Satanists behind the website mentioned in this ask are a bunch of openly antisemitic conspiracy theorists appropriating Eastern traditions, and they've been trying to advertise themselves and increase their SEO by sending asks like these. Each ask is tailored to appeal to whatever they think your beliefs might be, but they all follow a similar template that goes something like:

What do you think of [URL redacted]? They claim to follow [insert gods here], they [something about supporting abortion], and they're the largest [insert group here] group in the world."

The spirituality promoted on this website is rooted in deeply antisemitic conspiracy theories and pseudohistory. If I addressed every single claim they made, I'd be here all day, so I'm going to stick to a few examples:

They claim that Satanism isn't a reaction to Christianity, but is in fact older than Christianity. This is straight-up pseudohistorical bullshit.

They claim that Jews have perpetrated a grand conspiracy to conceal true spiritual knowledge from the masses. They outright cite The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Czarist hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews in the late 19th century. They claim that Christianity is a Jewish tool of world domination and mind control.

They claim that "Jewish ritual murder" is a thing. This is blood libel, an old conspiracy theory used to demonize Jews.

They claim that Jesus was a fictional creation made out of tropes "stolen" from various pagan gods. There is no actual evidence for this; it's another conspiracy theory. For a scholarly look at what most probably happened, I recommend How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee by Bart D. Erhman. Or if you can't get your hands on the books, just look into Dr. Ehrman's videos/lectures on the topic on YouTube.

They push the extremely racist ancient aliens bullshit, claiming that the pagan gods were actually aliens.

They claim that the serpent actually represents human DNA, life force, and kundalini. This is a conspiracy theory that disregards the diversity of lore about serpents in various belief systems and traditions around the world, and culturally appropriates from Eastern traditions.

Their idea of what constitutes genuine Satanic practices is basically New Agers' bastardized versions of Eastern concepts and practices.

They claim that the "Tree of Life" is actually a stolen pagan symbol that maps the human soul. Again, an unsubstantiated conspiracy theory that disregards the actual significance of trees within the various traditions that involve them.

They claim that the Pentateuch was ripped off from the five suits of the tarot, and that tarot has ancient origins with alchemical significance. Tarot was actually invented in the 15th century for playing games. Mystical symbolism was applied by occultists in the 18th century.

The creators of the site apparently believe that the Simon Necronomicon is a genuine translation of older documents. It's not. The Necronomicon was a literary device created by HP Lovecraft; every text purporting to be a translation of the Necronomicon is a modern creation.

If you get an anon message like this in your inbox, do not post it. These people want you to share their URL to get more publicity and spread their antisemitic conspirituality. Don't give them what they want.

[carlyraejepsans]

heard agreed and nodding at "sans would not admit he is depressed" do you think papyrus just kinda knows? Do you think sans is more open with his brother like papyrus is with sans, even dropping the facade like the one Japanese pronoun translation showed? Do you think papyrus would also need to be held at gods gunpoint to admit his brother isn't okay? *holds microphone up* 🎤 the ppl need to know your thoughts and readings

i think both of the brothers know a Lot more about one another's mental state than they're willing to let on to the other. they're both feel a duty to protect/take care of each other but keep going about it in silly convoluted ways. it doesn't mean that they don't show that affection face to face, but they also work behind one another's backs. A lot lol.

To answer your question, I think Papyrus knows! Maybe not in detail or why, but he does. And what I think he does with that information is fluctuate in a state of superposition between awareness and full blown denial. He's not stupid, and he does help, he just acts like this IS just sans being lazy on the outside. Both for Sans' sake and his own mental stability.

I had this WIP idea for a sickfic where sans gets a really crappy cold (since deltarune monster bodies work differently and actually get sick) and papyrus tutters about making comments about how being forced to rest is going to be awful for his lazy attitude and he's gotta be so proud he's weaseled his way out of cleaning again and when tori is about to confront him about it sans is like "stop. don't you see it? he can't do anything to make it better. it's infuriating him. it's a game." like if they keep up the act that sans is doing this on purpose/to mess with people, at least it feels like control. and i think sans does the exact same with papyrus when it comes to his cluelessness and """innocence""".

[targaryenluvs]

ok hear me out w this dark!finnick idea; post-74th everlark, snow’s trying to do damage control and tells finnick to date another victor, and finnick’s hesitance to date his former mentee— means ofc she’s picked :( it’s not like finnick would ever put on a show to get her purposefully picked, he’s totally a good mentor and he’s defiantly never thought of ruining her, but, might as well make the most of it

alternatively omg image finnick living through the rebel’s victory— but the aftermath of the takeover meant a lot of the ppl involved in the games (no matter how small apart they played) get to executed,, including the little capitol girl who was (barely) part of his team n helped him get ready (or mb his district escort, or just like a stylist idk). helpful, helpful finnick steps up n tells her he can totally help her but it’s going to involve her losing her capital ties n taking up his name (plus they really have to sell it, so good knows how far they’d have to go, but he’s always so willing n helpful)

these aren’t requests or anything, i haven’t slept in 30 hours and I watched like my nth finnick edit whilst procrastinating prepping for my applied physics final

first of all i know i always sleep at wild times but THIRTY HOURS?? BABY GO TO SLEEP!!!

second of all, i wish you the best on your physics final ❤️

third of all your mind works wonders!!

can you imagine him seeing her again for the first time after she’s picked?? imagine nervous finnick for the first time 😭

-

“just our luck huh? two idiots make fools of the capitol and we end up on damage control!” your voice was as always sweet and pretty. finnick wanted to bottle it up all for himself.

“who would’ve thought?” finnick smiled, the charm may have been turned on but god was he a mess inside.

“you look good finn, grown. how’ve you been?”

i’ve been patiently waiting for the next time i see you. he wondered if that would scare you off so he smiled instead, “waiting for my lovely mentor to show and she’s here now so great.” you giggled as your touched his bicep, and his pants felt tighter, god you were adorable. you may be older than him but he has grown, and now he towers over you, dwarfs you in comparison and he adores it.

“you look stunning per usual.” you grinned and took your dress in, a gorgeous baby blue dress, with tiny straps on each side and a slit on the right side. your neck looked oddly markable to finnick but he’d refrain for now. “and you look handsome, when’d that happen?” you teased him before pinching his cheek.

you still thought of him as the same little boy from four. he could tell, but he wasn’t a boy anymore and he’d show you that.

“who knows. now, we have people to see.” he linked his arm with yours as the two of you made your way from the foyer and into the den of the capitol, hungry eyes and touchy hands pounced at the opportunity to feel the capitols darling and diamond.

he would snap every hand if he could, you were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.

-

“yes. i’ll do it, i don’t want to- no i can’t die.” you were crying now and finnick felt bad, but you’d just agreed to marry him so he couldn’t care less.

“no tears honey, you get to live.” his voice was sweet and comforting, looking up at him you felt happy. you watched him grow up, you helped him through it and now he was helping you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful.

“thank you finnick really, you don’t have to do this.” he shook his head and wiped away your tears, “you’ve been by my side for so long it’s the least i could do y/n.” your teary eyes should’ve made him feel bad but the idea of your marriage had his own heart racing. and as you hugged him he felt his worries melt away.

you were locked in for life.

[erenqueef]

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨★𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨

warnings: mature content! - smut

𝒻ℯ𝓂 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

title: truth or dare

(this was originally uploaded on wattpad)

(play: in for it-tory lanez)

"i win." he sits back in his seat across from you.

you huff and cross your arms. "this isn't fair!"

"i won fair and square, sense you keep losing why don't we just play something else?"

"fine. i have an idea." you smirk and lean in closer, resting your elbows on your knees. "let's play truth or dare."

how the hell did a simple innocent game of truth or dare lead you to be straddling his lap? with his breathless lips against yours after kissing you eagerly, he smirks, his eyes meeting yours after a few seconds

"your turn, ask me."

"truth or dare?" you grin.

"hm, dare."

"i dare you.." you think for a moment, humming. "to let me have full control of you for the rest of the night."

he roles his eyes with a smirk, running his hands down your sides. "fine, go ahead."

you stand up and pull him with you, leading him to where the couch was. you push him back and straddle his lap again. "much more comfortable right?"

he nods. "what are you gonna do to me y/n?"

you lean closer, wiggling your hips against his lap as if you were adjusting yourself. "do you wanna find out?"

he places his hands on your sides again just for you to take them off and intertwine your fingers with them, then pinning them on the couch board behind him. "should i be scared?" he smirks.

"maybe," you lean in and kiss the side of his neck, a soft breath of relief escaping his lips as you gently bite down.

he tightens his grip on your hands when you start to suck his flesh harshly. "y/n.." he tilts his head back to give you more access. "i'm.." he bucks his hips up, signaling you he's hard.

you smirk against his skin before backing your head away from his neck to look into his eyes. "god and i didn't even start prepping yet."

his face flushes, his thighs twitching with need beneath you. "whatever your gonna do to me y/n, i need it now."

"patients choso, i never expected you of all people to be impatient.."

"can you really blame me y/n?"

you smile, hopping off of him and kneeling between his legs. "i want you to call me something else." you tell him as you palm his erection through his pants.

he whines, his cock twitching as you teasingly rub it. "w-what would you like me to call you?"

"something fun," you chuckle. "use that big brain of yours."

"um, goddess? mistress?"

you smile, you have him wrapped around your finger. "yes that one, now take your shirt off."

he obeys and strips his shirt off. his upper body is sculpted perfectly. you can only imagine what the lower half looks like.

your eyes scan each ab, his perky nipples, before looking back into his eyes. you stand up and lean forward, placing your hands on his thighs and pressing your lips against his again, he lets out a breath and places his hands around your neck.

you break the kiss and grab his hands, ripping them away from their grip. "when are you gonna learn?" you sign, unbuckling your belt and tying his hands together in front of him. "there we go." you smirk before lifting his arms over his head, moving them out of the way as you lean in and kiss his chest, leaving a trail of kisses to his nipple, your tongue teases it and your eyes beam through his.

"god," he tosses his head back. "your driving me crazy."

you grin before sinking back down on your knees, you spread his legs apart before stripping his pants off. he was wearing no underwear.

your eyes look back up to his with a hungry grin before looking down at his cock, his pretty pink tip made it so tempting to lick.

"hot in here hm?" you strip your shirt off and toss it over his face, he quickly moves it off and look at you again. "exactly how do you want me to please you?"

his eyes flick between your eyes and your perfect tits that we're begging to be freed from your bra. "i don't care, however you think i deserve it mistress.."

without warning your tongue trails up his member, he gasps before biting his bottom lip, holding back his moans.

you look up at him, his face flushed and his eyes lidded, lips parted and wet from your earlier kiss. you start to stroke his cock, half of his tip being covered with skin with each stroke, his hips slightly bucking into your palm as he begins to get more needy. you get up and sit next to him, your hand still stroking his cock as you lean closer. "let me do the work." you whisper.

"sorry, fuck. i just need you." he whimpers.

"how bad?"

"so fucking bad.. can you go faster?"

you purposely slow down. "no, i don't think i will."

he grunts in frustration. "your evil."

you chuckle before leaning down and licking his pretty tip, his desperate moans filling the room as you start bobbing your head, you feel him tense up beneath you but you slow down each time, causing him to become more and more sexually frustrated.

you go back to stroking him, his body suddenly craving your mouth again.

"please," he whines begging for relase. his

voice desperately needy for you.

"patients choso," you grin. "i told you not yet

didnt i?" you pump your hand faster just to spite him, his thighs twitching and his hips bucking into your palm.

"i cant hold back anymore.." he moans as he

arches his back slightly, his cock twitching beneath your touch. "please let me cum mistress."

"i said-" before you could even form a sentence

he grabs your head with his tied hands and opens your mouth by shoving his thumbs inside, causing you to confusingly open your mouth. and before you realized what he was doing your lips were around his length, his fingers gripping your messy ponytail as he pushes your face all seven inches down. you taste his salty release on your taste buds and feel it shoot down your throat.

"now swallow it like a good girl."

your eyes widen, you weren't expecting this at all. but you swallow, every drop. wiping your lips with the back of your hand, looking back up to him again.

"now open your mouth, let me see that you swallowed it all." he demands, but. yet his tone was more on the asking side.

you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, he stares at the sight, leaning in and pressing his tongue against yours as he begins to swirl it around yours, he moans into your mouth as he starts to stroke himself again, you grab his throat and push him away from your lips, you look down and see him jerking himself off with both of his tied hands.

"oh you want more?" you grin, he responds with a nod, his hands not slowing for a second.

you stand up and strip your cloths off, leaving you naked for him. his movements speed up as he looks over your body, he starts grunting as you teasingly play with your breasts.

"come here please.." he whispers. you step closer and straddle his lap, he rubs his cock against your warm folds. "shit,"

"go ahead, put it inside."

he gladly obeys by wrapping his hands over your neck and thrusting his cock deep inside you, pressing his lips against yours, you let out a muffled yelp.

"your so tight.." he moans. "i cant hold it back y/n.."

"you better fucking hold it back." you demand before grabbing his throat and squeezing it.

his movements get sloppy, his moans getting messier. "please.. please let me cum inside you mistress!"

you give his cheek a light slap. "i said hold back."

"ah fuckkk.." he whines. "please.. please let me cum. im begging you y/n for god sake please."

"your so fucking desperate for release. hold it back." your grip on his throat tightens.

"fuck!" he yelps, thrusting faster and harder into you, causing you to moan too.

"not yet.." you moan, at this point you didn't care, you were close too.

"im so close please.. please mistress."

"cum with me. ah!" you squeeze your eyes shut, your right on the edge.

"okay, okay mistress ready? im.." he lets out a long moan as he holds you tightly to his body. "gonna.."

"fuck choso," you bury your face into his shoulder, your walls tightening around his cock as he dumps his hot load inside you.

"mistress..." he whines, his thrust becoming shallow and slow.

"fuck," your body goes limp against his, both of you heavily breathing. "fuck."

"so." he pants. "truth or dare?"

★

[amurih]

Fuck it ima put it out anyway.

COTL AU where instead of staying in the cult Narinder leaves and builds his own little plot of land that becomes a rare occurrence you find while crusading through the different biomes post game.

Like it starts off when the lamb like spares Narinder and he’s like sent to the cult. And is in such a state of shock and bewilderment of what just happened that he doesn’t really know that the lamb is setting up their wedding until he’s at the alter. And he just SNAPS. To trade one prison for another? And to be stuck with the same being that not only took your crown, but your title as the god of death as your jailer? No thank you. Proceeds to walk out while the service is still going.

(I’m not the kind of person to think that he would be murdering or plotting to kill the lamb at every turn or possibly. No I would think that Narinder is smart enough to realize that he cannot fight the lamb in the condition that he is reduced to.)

Anyway, I want Narinder to experience life post-godhood by himself outside the cult. Maybe progressing over time you see how his plot of land develops into a pretty nice home for himself complete with a garden and an actual building/house. Not a hut, but an actual house.

All the while the lamb is going through it. It’s normal game play like one would post Narinder fight. Lore, upgrades, reviving the bishops, mystic seller, etc. All the while experiencing the highs and lows of ascension. I think the lamb would ask the other bishops once they get indoctrinated of how they went through their ascensions went. Only they would tell them that each went through theirs differently, so in the end it wasn’t really helpful.

So going through a process that you have no idea how to get through and the only person who does has fuck off into the land and hates your guts. Really fucking sucks man. So they try to “catch” Narinder while out crusading. Only they don’t find him physically, they find his place of residence while he is away.

I thought of a way to incorporate the quests that Narinder gives you when he is usually established in the cult. Could still be used: like there’s a book left on a table where you could peak in and see what’s going on with the cat that is currently away from his house.

“ I should head to Darkwoods and see if I can find more materials to build that fence and make more paper. Moving materials from one abandon home stead to this place has been challenging enough. My arms hurt after years of being bound to one position for so long...I wonder if camellias still bloom there now that Leshy is gone? If not I’ll have to develop a new alternative for this persistent strain and sharp pains I keep having. Got to get these walls up before it starts raining.”

“Bah! There’s not enough food at the last abandoned settlement let alone seeds. It’ll take long of a walk all the way to smuggler’s cove just to see if that sea louse got any thing. And it hasn’t been that long since the depletion of fish at pilgrim’s passage. I would have just stuck to what vegetables and berries I’ve got growing, but some animal or heratic keeps getting into my garden and stealing my food!when I find the person or thing that is stealing from me I’m going to make them into my fertilizer. In the meantime I should look into Anura and see if those foul mushrooms are still there. If I remember they are just as foul as Hecket when she would screamed about being hungry during dinner…Those should hold me over until I get this unwanted pest under control.”

“The wind and rain coming in through the holes on the side of the house that I use to see if any heretics come to kill me, has gotten too much. I’m tired of having to clean up the puddles of water that enters the home. And the curtains don’t do much in terms of trying to block both of these elements.That stupid squid Kallamar doesn’t need his crystals now that he’s gone. It didn’t help him when trying to hide from me. I’ll go to Anchordeep tomorrow and get some to make crystal windows. They sure would make it more beautiful than their temple…”

“Finally the loom is ready. It’s been a such a long time since I had decent robes. It’s easy to find cotton, but what I really want is a nice, soft, silk robe. One that doesn’t rub against these scars preferably. I miss the old one Shamura they made with their silk. But, that one got destroyed in the fight with that damn vessel. Maybe there is some in Silk Cradle. ”

(I’ll come back to this when I flesh it out more via work time daydreams)

[seabirdtxt]

Deus Vocat

'Just how close to divinity does the god-machine get?' Pretty darn close, as it turns out. The rest is entirely up to you and Scaramouche. [p1] [p2 - you are here!] [p3]

Notes: Genshin SAGAU, cult au, mostly confusion and miscommunication in this one. mild swearing. still pre-3.2 plotwise!

WC. 1.6k

----- ⚘ -----

Three days and three nights. That’s how long Scaramouche waited to hear Your voice again. The more the hours drew out, his temper became increasingly volatile every time the nervous technicians would open the Shouki no Kami’s cockpit to check up on him.

Each time he would kick them out and slam the cockpit shut, even nearly taking off a mechanic’s arm with the face plates. His patience runs thinner with every passing moment.

Nearing dawn of the fourth day, finally he feels that strange buzzing connecting behind his ears. He stiffens and pulls himself upright, blinking weariness out of his eyes. 

“Your Grace?” he mumbles, the sudden drop in pressure in the cockpit makes him dizzy. “Is that you?”

Your voice crackles over the connection, sounding a little farther away. “Hey, yeah, it’s me again. How're you holding up?”

“What took you so long?” is what he replies, the words coming to him despite his head warning him that You are the Divine Creator. “Do you know how much work I could’ve gotten done in the time you took to get back to me?”

“What? It’s been, like, an hour at most.” You reply, sounding skeptical. “Don’t tell me you’re the impatient type.”

“An- an hour?!” Scaramouche runs the math in his head quickly, frowning. “Is there such a time dilation between your realm and mine?” 

“What do you mean?”

Scaramouche growls with frustration, rubbing his temples as he feels a headache coming on. “What are you not understanding here? I didn’t think the Creator would be so ignorant of their own creation.”

“... what?”

“Are you being deliberately obtuse? Are you even who you say you are? You wouldn’t be the first to have delusions of grandeur to bring some sort of momentary excitement into their pathetic, insignificant lives.”

“Woah, calm down, buddy,” you say, a warning in your voice. “Let’s just take it from the top, okay? Hello, my name is,” you repeat your name for him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Scaramouche takes a breath and rolls his eyes, then reluctantly complies with the direction you’re taking.

“Hello, I’m Scaramouche, The Balladeer, Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, and I’m currently dealing with an idiot problem.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide for now,” you respond curtly. “Now tell me, ‘Scaramouche’, why did you call me today?”

“You say it as if I somehow did it on purpose.”

“Didn’t you?” The raised eyebrow is audible in your tone. 

“Of course not!” Scaramouche snaps, patience waning. “Dottore’s stupid god-machine did something to my head, obviously, and now there’s some kind of connection to you that I have no idea how to control.”

“... god-machine?” you ask, sounding genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The god-machine that the sages commissioned,” Scaramouche explains slowly, smugly, as if he’s talking to a child. “If the gnosis’ connection to divinity is successful, I will be named the new deity of Sumeru and take over the position of that pathetic little god, Buer.”

“You’re going to what to who?” you question again. “Hang on, is this spoilers? I didn’t get that far in the story yet…”

“What do you mean, ‘story’?” It’s Scaramouche’s turn to be confused now.

“Y’know, ‘cause you’re RPing that guy from the game, right? I’m not at that point in the questline yet so, uh, thanks for spoiling the story for me, I guess.”

“This isn’t a game!” His temper flares and he pounds his fist against the face panel of the cockpit, the clang resounding in his ears. “Damn you, is that how you see us, then? As some kind of sick game for your personal amusement?” 

“Wow, you’re really taking this personally, huh? It’s not that serious, man, you need to calm down for a sec-” 

“I will not be calm!” Scaramouche thrashes about in the cockpit, kicking and punching the interior and creating a hellish metallic sound. Behind him, the tubes slap and rattle around, threatening to disconnect from his sockets if he continues his tantrum. “The Divine Creator just told me that they view our existence as a game!” 

Your voice takes on a tone of annoyance, though you appear to be trying to suppress it. “Listen, I looked it up on the wiki, and there's nothing there about this supposed ‘Creator’ character, so I know you’re full of shit. Just cut it out, okay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Scaramouche shouts into the empty cockpit. And that’s the root of the problem, isn’t it? Clearly he and the Creator aren’t seeing eye to eye on something, here, and it’s causing a terrible miscommunication.

With a great heaving sigh, he tries to reign in his temper. 

“What can I do to prove to you that I’m serious, right now?” He asks through gritted teeth. 

There's a sound like static that fills his head and he cries out in pain, clutching his ears as if that might stop the noise.

“Hypothetically, let’s say you’re Scaramouche from the game,” Your voice filters in through the static. “Like, the actual NPC or something. The only way I’d believe you is if you do something in-game that’s out of the ordinary. I’m logging in right now, so if there’s something weird happening I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Scaramouche’s thoughts race through his head, though he has no idea what half of the words you say mean, and he wracks his mind trying to think of something he could do to show his presence. 

“Where… where are you right now?”

“I’m doing the quest in Pardis Dhyai,” you answer, and sure enough Scaramouche feels a faint tug that he’s come to associate with the Traveler’s presence coming from the direction of the laboratory. “I’m fighting with some Eremites right now.”

Pardis Dhyai, where he knows Haypasia is being kept. The woman had connected with his consciousness briefly during one of the early god-machine tests Dottore had forced him to do. It very nearly put him out of commission for a week, but sharing his consciousness had been proof irrefutable that he could channel divinity, at the time. 

“Okay, stay there, I’m going to try something.” He says, and attempts to concentrate on the location. In his mind, he conjures the feeling of static and ozone and aims, internally cheering when he feels the power connect with bodies. “Did you see that? Did I get them?”

“Get what?”

“The thunderbolts!” He says, incredulous. Surely there was no way to miss that, right?

“That’s part of the quest, I saw the walk through of this part,” you huff. “You’re really not convincing me, here.” 

Frustration bubbles up and Scaramouche chews his thumb as he tries to think of something else, and that’s when he feels it.

The Traveler touches Haypasia.

A bolt of energy courses through his head, and in the distorted reflection of the metal cockpit he sees his eyes flash again. 

He follows an instinct, reaching out to Haypasia’s consciousness and, by extension, the Traveler. He grabs the tether in his mind and pulls, feeling himself travel across time and space, until he’s in Pardis Dhyai. 

He blinks and looks around, the faded scenery looking exactly as it had when Haypasia had contacted him. There, standing beside his follower’s unconscious body, is the Traveler.

“Where are you?” Scaramouche asks through the connection, trying to sense if you've left him once again. “There’s nobody else here.”

“... Huh.” Your voice comes through the connection in his head, but also through vibrations in the air. “That’s definitely not part of the cutscene.” 

“What the hell is a cutscene?” He demands, still looking around for the source of your voice. 

“Right, that’s creepy. Is this a glitch?” 

“If you tell me what your words mean, maybe I can tell you.” Scaramouche growls, then points at the Traveler. “You, where is the Creator? I know they’re around here somewhere, I can feel it.” 

“No way.” You say, incredulously. 

“Huh?”

“Scaramouche, jump up and down three times.”

He looks around again, before settling his gaze on the Traveler. “Why should I do that?”

“You’re trying to prove that you're in the game, right? I can see you right now, so if it’s really you I want you to jump up and down three times.”

Feeling supremely foolish, but willing to humor you on the off chance you aren’t lying to him, Scaramouche gives three halfhearted hops, and immediately crosses his arms. 

“Happy now?” he growls.

To his extreme surprise, and slight horror, the Traveler jumps three times as well.

“Oh my god, you’re actually in the game? Like, you’re the character in the game?” You ask, breathless, a tinge of hysteria creeping in. “No way. This doesn’t happen in real life. Games don’t just become self-aware like this. Am I dreaming?”

“Whatever you’re talking about, you better tell me really quick or else…” Scaramouche trails off for a moment, unsure of what he could really do to you, given the metaphorical distance. “Or else I’ll be really angry with you,” he finishes lamely. In front of him, the Traveler’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“You’re not supposed to, like, know about me,” you continue, raising in octave slowly. “You’re not real! Is my life just a creepypasta right now?”

“Would you cut that out?!” Scaramouche half-shouts, in an attempt to be heard over your frantic voice. He can feel the connection between the two of you waver with each passing second. “Whatever you’re doing, stop panicking!”

“I think I’d like to panic, actually,” you say, and the connection goes dead. 

Empty air fills the space behind Scaramouche’s ears, and he snarls in frustration at having been left hanging once again. For a second, he almost forgets the presence of the third party in the room. He looks up and stops his muttering at the sight of the Traveler’s dumbfounded, and slightly scared expression.

“You can hear them?”

[sentoooo]

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ || ᴋᴜɴɢ ʟᴀᴏ [18+]

he's actually so pathetic & stupid i love him. i dont see much kung lao stuff ANYWHERE, cmon man LOOK AT HIMMM he's so babygirl, he's my schnookums, if you will.

cw: NSFW, amab, little bit of body worship, little bit of praise, small small mention of blowjobs, give this boy more love man, not proofread MINORS DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kung Lao is actually really sweet! There's nothing he won't do for you. Maybe at the start of the relationship, he lacks a little in his aftercare game. But once you two have been together for a while, he understands your needs. He's always made it a habit of staying up until your fast asleep in his arms, he worries a little. He's very on top of things though, he will be as hands on- or off- as you'd like. And if you're game for shower sex, shit, he's game too. He will always hold you particularly close, though. It's something he learned, he's kind of afraid of losing you! So, he takes any and every moment to hold you. Especially during the afterglow.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's particularly proud of his hands, mainly because they show off how hard he's worked. They tell a tale of progress, of his mistakes, and of what he's learned. He also loves how they look on your body, roaming, evoking such sweet sounds from you. And, how big they are compared to yours. It really does make him feel like he's your protector. Not that you need protection. On you, he loves your thighs, and your back. He loves how strong and detailed your back is, decorated in scars, and just how much it shows off your strength. He loves running his hands up and down your back, tracing your spine, making you shiver. And your thighs. God, your thighs. He loves thigh jobs, he loves grabbing them, he loves cumming on them. He loves anything to do with your thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Kung Lao prefers to cum inside. Less mess, yes, but he's also quite prideful about it. It makes him feel like you're really his, something that he still can't believe. He loves to fuck his cum back up into you, too. But he will always clean you up afterwards. And if you want him to cum outside? Then it will always, always be on your thighs. As previously mentioned, he loves them. And he loves seeing it on your thighs, especially. But fair warning: when he cums, he cums hard.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The fantasies he has about you, god. Those are the one things that can make him cum when he can't have you. He imagines you, all tied up, just waiting to be used by him. And each time he imagines it, he sees himself doing something different. Sometimes it's just fucking you pretty, sometimes it's using toys til you can't even say his name, and the list goes on. He's too afraid to ask, though.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's had like two hook-ups, but never much of a relationship. I mean, he gets no bitches. So, when he meets you, he's got a rough idea of what happens. But, he does need direction. After your first and second time, he gets in the swing of things. Now, he knows exactly how to please you. He also understands your tells, way too well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse Cowboy, probably. Like I said, he loves your back. He also loves having you on top, while he still gets to control the speed and pace. He loves getting to run his hands down your back at any given moment, making you moan even more. He also loves getting to fuck up into you, either when he deems that you are riding him too slow, or he just wants to surprise you. But, sometimes, Kung Lao likes being even closer to you. In these cases, he prefers the cat variant of missionary, or concubine. He just needs to be closer to you sometimes, he's afraid that reverse cowboy isn't enough, or that it leaves much for wanting. He wants to make sure his boy feels loved enough, and he won't forsake it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's a mix of both. He'll crack a few jokes, and talk, but he'll also whisper everything he loves about you, tell you how good you make him feel, and just show you the full extent of his love for you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself shaven, everywhere. There are some faint traces of pubic hair, but that's about as far as it goes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Fuck. Kung Lao is beyond intimate. Just cause he hasn't had much experience before you doesn't mean anything. He speaks from the heart. Everything he says is true, everything he does is done in sheer love. He makes sure you know exactly how much he loves and appreciates you, from his words and his actions.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off fairly often. About once a day, at least before he met you. Now he jacks off about 3 times a week, and that's if he doesn't have you, or if you don't feel like engaging in sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Although I don't think it's a kink, he's really into thigh jobs. He loves fucking your soft, warm thighs, reaching around your waist and jacking you off, as well. As much as he hates making your thighs all messy, it always pays off for him. He also loves the fact that you get off on it, even when he decides to be an asshole and not jack you off. Tells you to figure it out yourself. Cause he wants to see you pleasure yourself, too.

He's also into nipple play. He loves toying with you, kissing, sucking, licking, and just rubbing your nipples. It always such a sweet reaction from you, especially when your riding him.

The idea of him or you being blindfolded has also ended up in the bedroom. He loves that he feels more sensitive because of it. When you glide your hands down his body, appreciate his muscles more. And when he gets to hear your breath hitch because he touched just the right spot.

Kung Lao also fucking loves lingere. He loves when you wear any sort of lingere for him, and it always makes him impatient when he knows your wearing lingere under your casual clothes. He just wants to get his hands on you and ravage you. All pretty and spread out for him, waiting for him. Fuck, don't tease him like that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the privacy of his own room, where he can do what he wants and not care about prying eyes. It makes the moment feel more intimate, especially because everything he does is for you. He loves knowing that he's got you all to himself, and that you two can be as loud as you want.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kung Lao looooves it when you kiss him. Normally, he thinks it'd take him something more to turn him on. But sometimes, you just kiss him with such passion and longing, that he wants to drop everything and carry you off to the bedroom. He also loves it when you play with his hair, how sometimes you trace down to his neck. That's where he's sensitive, and god, do you know it. Even just gently brushing against his neck gets a moan from him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He hates liars, and he hates people who play hard to get. It's not that he's looking for something easy, it's that he needs you to be direct. If you want him, then say so. He has no need for you to say no, when you are so obviously flirting with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving, though he doesn't mind giving. He gets off on seeing you try and choke him down, it's something that he's kind of proud of. But hey, if you ask for a blowjob, he won't mind giving you one. Anything that'll give you pleasure, really.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He defaults to slow & sensual, especially if you two have been together for a while. And you don't mind it. It may take slower to reach the climax, but he makes every second worth it. He loves taking the time to explore your body, as if you two haven't done this countless times. He really does love being gentle with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kung Lao doesn't like quickies. He'll do them on occasion, but will never make a habit of it. He loves your body, it'd be a shame to not appreciate it in full. But if he hasn't been able to fuck you in at least a month, and you suggest a quickie, he's down.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's flexible, but he stops at anything too intense, especially if it involves hurting you or fucking you in a public place. Certain things he's down to try, especially if it seems like it'll get you going.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's game to go all night. As long as you are. Just say the word, and he'll fuck you until dawn, he'll make every round last twice as long as the previous one. You're in dangerous territory.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely. A cock-ring or two, some vibrators, and a stroker. Not that he needs it anymore. He's got you. Unless you want to use it. And if you have toys? All the better. He loves incorporating them into sex, especially using his remote controlled stroker on you, and fucking you from behind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's probably one of the most fairest out of the roster. He just can't bring himself to listen to you pout and beg. He won't ever let you beg- either. He knows what you want and what you need, and he's going to give you his all.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kung Lao's LOUD. All 'cause of you. He likes you to know exactly how he's feeling in the moment, how grateful he is for you. He'll moan and grunt and groan, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while fucking you senseless. He knows no ones listening but you, and that's what makes it so intimate to him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is meant to be NSFW, but if he's been with you for long enough, he's got marriage on his mind. He loves the idea of a silver ring decorating your hand, something that properly says your all his, and he's all yours. You're someone he'd love to call his husband.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's bigger than average, he just didn't know how to use it before he met you. He's a grower, for sure. 6.4" in length when hard, 1.6" wide. Circumsized.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Kung Lao's sex drive is malleable, he's as horny as you are, really. So if you've got a high sex drive, he can meet your requirements. If not, he's fine waiting til your ready and need him. He'll still jack off occasionally, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will never fall asleep until you have. As said in A, he's up with you. If you want to go a couple rounds in the shower, then he's still got the energy. If you just want to get cleaned up and go to sleep, then he doesn't mind at all.

[batw1nggg]

hi. im here to kamukoma ramble. ok so i reeaaly hate how all kamumeshi Fan Content (which is basically all kamukoma content) waters down izuru to being the dominant one and servant to being his cute little dog like i feel like its so much more complex then that.

izuru was created to be subservient, to be smart enough to see through manipulation tactics and yet not care enough about himself to do anything to stop them, always doing something to serve someone else’s interests - and even when he does do one thing in his own interest (the killing game), it was largely because of his obsession with junko, so we see her still pulling the strings on him from beyond the grave (emphasized by his convo with her in his udg cameo). he doesn’t have power and he’s been designed not to want it. he’s been robbed of his humanity over and over again and been taught to accept it. he even explicitly states all of this in talent dev plan with taka

komaeda, on the other hand, is always framed with such heavy control over the narrative - he heavily influences dr2’s ending and takes that same puppeteering role in udg too. although he has that inferiority complex, he still holds so much power over everyone else, manipulating them like chess pieces. he is just as dangerous as izuru is, considering he has not only the intelligence but the motivation to act out like this, something izuru lacks.

and so this creates a really cool complexity where servant believes he’s meant to be subservient to izuru but this may not be wholly reflected in the way he acts, and izuru most definitely does not care for/about controlling servant. and, if izuru does take a domineering role, it’s because that’s what servant wants (especially after junko’s death, when he has no one left to place himself beneath), and so izuru’s still letting himself go with whoever the people surrounding him want him to be. he’s not with servant for the power trip, that goes completely against everything he’s ever been - because, in reality, IZURU is the one who exists to serve. to serve his creators, and then junko afterwards, even after her death. his purpose has always been assigned to him, not created by him.

both characters are fucked up and morally grey. both characters are the man, both characters are the god.

this is what i wish people would focus more on when writing their general character development and the development of their relationship. because they barely get any screen time you get lots of creative freedom and you can take this concept in either a “they are going to heal and get better together” route or a “they are doomed to always hurt each other in their codependency” route or some weird thing in between; again, personal preference, and if you want to keep izuru and hajime separate postgame this opens a whole new plethora of dynamics and development to write about after komaeda becomes himself again. the flexibility of their dynamic is whats so intriguing to me - kamukoma is a very complex and fluid idea that i wish more people would mess around with like this join me and we can play with them like putty