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#as someone who does not have and does not want a touch screen computer
honestlyvan · 11 months
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As someone who doesn’t use Twitter and hasn’t used it since 2016, at this point I feel like every even slightly Twitter-esque (let alone overt Twitter-esque) design choice Tumblr makes gets yelled about because People Really Just Fucking Hate Twitter whether they realise it or not.
Which, like. Fair ‘nuff. I also hate Twitter, which is why I don’t use it. But nobody ever really gives these design decisions any time to percolate on this site in favour of kneejerk “they changed it and we hate it” reaction. Public likes are not new. Multiple tabs on a dashboard (some of them not things you opted into seeing) are not new. Having to block ads with external tools is not new (and it’s a big deal that photomatt said the words “ad blocker”, like, you couldn’t get that shit on any other profit-driven site, everyone is too scared for their precious monetisation)
The new sidebar, also, I think is pretty ugly right now but it’s probably going to go through a few iterations. I, personally, really wish they’d put the search bar literally anywhere else (maybe group search and discovery together IDK I’m not an UX designer) and I think accessing sideblogs has been too complicated for a while now, but none of those are the same as “this looks like The Other Blue Site”.
Like I’m not a graphic designer. I am certainly not a fucking UX designer, and I think those people are either all nuts or all geniuses. I’m pretty sure the new layout is being extensively heatmapped rn, and what changes it’ll undergo are gonna be done based on that, based on comments that are along the lines of ‘this change would make me more productive’ and less on “WEEEEEH CHANGE IT BACK CHANGE IT BACK CHANGE IT BACK”. 
Your animosity towards change is not meaningful user experience information. You misclicking on shit more *is*. If this layout is really *that* bad and terrible, Automattic’s research tools will demonstrate it as such. The developers now are actually much better versed in Web 2.0 design, for better and for worse.
#van stuff#Also like yes I also hate the touchscreenification of desktop sites#as someone who does not have and does not want a touch screen computer#but that's not a design trend I get to dictate as I am in fact a minority user for this site#and the complaints I am tired of seeing are also coming from other legacy minority users of desktop#There are many good UX reasons to opt for a vertical layout instead of a horizontal one#and I think the majority reason is so that people who are on mobile and desktop simultaneously don't have to have two different brainmaps#for their muscle memory on this site#but like... the vertical sidebar is not the same as 'randomly swapping 'Close' and 'Post'' lol#the top of the screen horizontal bar still does things and there's way less empty space there now#and I get wanting negative space and less screen clutter#like... that's the ONE criticism of this update I can agree with#but that's STILL NOT THE SAME as 'arbitrarily fucking over the muscle memory of EVERY site user'#how many people on this site *ever* move out of their dashboard? I know I do!#but I think it's the minority of people considering the user-curated model of propagation this site is still#*actively* promoting#This site looking superficially more like twitter doesn't change that!#like the sky is not falling call me when they eliminate the ability to browse the tags in favour of a flat search#AGAIN#remember when we had that? Remember how *BAD* it was?#remember how much easier finding stuff became when we got 'browse tags' back as the default search?
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navramanan · 5 months
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I feel so horrible
#last evening i spilled tea it was obv an accident but i should have been more careful it was through a too careless action#some spilled on the book i got from the library. i thought that was the worst part#a bit spilled on my laptop. very little. while i was busy with the book my mom wiped my laptop#my brother immediately turned it off & told me to keep it upside down overnight#so i put it upside down. for hours. at least 4. before that i picked it up to look i could still see the water#but my laptop reacted to me picking it up & showed the battery percentage on the screen like it does#i didnt do anything else and put it back upside down. so again later i picked it up to check#it look dry. this time it didnt react to my ''touch'' to me picking it up#i didnt think anything. i wanted to do something on my laptop and tried powering it on. idk if that was a mistake or not#but it didnt react. the night is over it's almost noon it's still not turning on. it's been in rice the whole night#but honestly i dont even know if that actually helps. i know it's a popular method but idk#my brother works in IT he knows computers he said he'd unscrew & remove the storage disk to be safe#and to call someone they know who repairs computers. neither of these things happened yet bc we dont have the right screw#my brother i believe asked the neighbor#i'm not really hopeful. i've slept 4 hours last night bc i was so worried i couldnt sleep#went to sleep at 3 woke up at 7 couldnt sleep again#i said i'm not hopeful but one thing about me i never think bad things like this could happen to me so there's always this#''it's not real this isnt happening'' in me. i wish it wasnt bc if it turns out to be real it devastates me#i feel i get swayed so easily by things going wrong. it just immobilizes me#it happened when my luggage got lost. i was completely scatter brained fully gone when it happened#i was staying at my aunt's place. she poked fun at me for how much it affected me. said i have euros i could raplace my clothes#i spent four days this way. i was there to see a friend. i felt i was robbed from truly having a good time. it was our first time meeting#i cried every single day. called the airport lost & found every single day. this one thing occupied my whole being#i got my luggage back but what i'm getting at is for one i actually got it back so it wasnt a real bad thing that happened. it got fixed#and two it just had me in its clutches this one incident. so now my laptop wont turn on i cant think of anything else#cant do anything else. and although it looks real and i DONT want to be hopeful so i can let go and not be devastated when i find out#it's irreparable. idk where i'm getting at with this. except idk i really really really want it to work again#nesi rants
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seungkwansphd · 11 months
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contusion confusion
pairing: seungcheol x afab reader word count: 4K synopsis: your clumsy lab partner left a bruise on you. seungcheol seems disproportionately upset by it, but it makes way more sense once you understand why. themes: college au, best friend seungcheol, double sided repressed feelings, possessive and jealous seungcheol. warnings: smut, mentions of bruising/marking, mention of reader being smaller than seungcheol.
a/n: i started this literally one year ago and lost steam. and then blonde.fucking.scoups comes along and truly does a number on me. anyways, bon appetit, LOL
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“What the hell happened to you?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened as you stretched your legs across his lap on the sofa.
“What?” you blinked at him, taking your eyes off of the television momentarily.
“What’s this bruise from?” he asked, resisting the strong urge to touch the bluish purple mark just above your elbow.
“Ah, that!” you shrugged, “I almost tripped the other day in lab. Mingyu grabbed me, but he might as well have let me fall! Who knew someone could bruise you just from grabbing you! Like how strong is that dude even?” you rolled your eyes. Grumbling, you returned your attention to the screen.
Seungcheol stewed next to you. While he had no real claim or reason to be upset at your lab partner, every time you brought him up, it made him want to strangle someone.
Mingyu was so tall that you had to readjust the titration burette between replicates. Mingyu was all sweaty because he had come to lab right after the gym. Mingyu didn’t cover his face while sneezing.
Seungcheol eagerly awaited next semester when he wouldn’t have to hear about this man anymore.
Swallowing, your eyes flitted nervously to your best friend’s hands, which were stroking your calves absentmindedly as he watched the show. While just a mindless gesture on his part, you were struggling silently with the way it made your insides turn just slightly into jelly.
“Cheol, that tickles!” you finally pulled your legs away, curling into a ball against the armrest of the sofa.
“Oh, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly at you, seeming distracted. It almost seemed like your friend was sulking, but you couldn’t understand why. You were watching a sitcom!
“There you are!”
You looked up to see your lab partner standing over your table, clutching the straps of his backpack.
“Oh, hey Mingyu,” you furrowed your brows at him, “Did you need something?”
“I thought we were supposed to be working on our lab report today?” he cocked his head at you, wondering if he had gotten the time wrong.
“Oh shit!” you cursed, “I’m so sorry Gyu, I totally lost track of time!”
“That’s okay,” he laughed, “It’s not that big of a deal. You want to work on it now?”
“Sure!” you nodded, glancing at Seungcheol and Jeonghan, who were immersed in their computer programming assignments. “Do you mind if Mingyu joins us? We have a lab report.”
“Yes, we heard,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes at you, “Sure that’s fine.”
“Thanks,” Mingyu nods before taking the seat next to you.
“Did you start anything for it yet?” you asked, pulling your lab notebook out of your backpack.
“Whoa, did I really grab you that hard that day?” Mingyu exclaimed, seeing the purple bruise on your arm.
“Yes, it fuckin’ hurts too!” you squinted at him, annoyed.
“I didn’t think you could bruise someone just by grabbing them. I guess I’m just super strong, huh?” Mingyu preened.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you threatened to punch him.
Jeonghan observed Seungcheol’s shift in mood with mild interest as you and Mingyu muddled your way through your lab report.
“I need some coffee or I’m going to rip my eyeballs out,” you announced after calculating mole fractions for far too long. You stood from the table to move towards the cafe in the library. You tapped your fingertips on your wallet mindlessly as you calculated how many shots of espresso you could consume without your heart bursting out of your chest.
“YN!” a familiar voice greeted you as they tapped your shoulder.
“Ah, hey!” you smiled at Bina, your lab partner from last year. “Ugh, I’m working on a lab report and it is giving me flashbacks to last semester!”
“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” she rolled her eyes. You two had barely managed to scrape through that class. Unlike you, it had been her only chem requirement, so she was free of the horror of lab reports now. “Who’s your lab partner this semester?”
“Mingyu Kim,” you scrunched up your nose slightly, “God bless him, but he is such a klutz.”
“Wait, no. Mingyu? The Kim Mingyu?” Bina paled slightly.
“Why? Do you know him? Is there tea?” you looked at her with wide eyes.
“No, god I wish. He’s just so hot to me! I’m jealous, I would slog through another semester of chem to be his lab partner.”
“Would you?!” you gaped at her, thoroughly alarmed. “You’re sick in the head over this man,” you laughed heartily.
“No, probably not,” Bina chuckled after giving it some more serious consideration. “But I’d think long and hard about it.”
“We’re sitting over there if you wanna stop by and say hi. I’ll introduce y’all,” you offered before placing your order with the cashier.
“I might do that,” she craned her head to see exactly where your table was. “You’re sitting with Seungcheol too? My friend is infatuated with that man. They’re in Comp Sci together. Can she come say hi too?”
“S-sure,” you answered blankly. You had no stake or claim, but something in you wanted to scream ‘NO!’ when you heard Bina ask that question.
“You’re the best, we’ll be over in a bit,” Bina smiled brightly at you, giving you a squeeze.
“Okay, I’m ready to resume crying,” you announced when you returned to the table with your beverage.
“Okay, good, cause I’m ready to take a break from crying,” Mingyu looked up at you pitifully. “I think I figured out 4. So then if we can figure out 5, then we just need to pull together some nonsense for the discussion.”
“Okay, okay,” you nodded determinedly. By some miracle, question 5 was just some simple dilution practice, so before long you and Mingyu were typing furiously, chipping away at the remainder of the lab report.
“Hey YN!” Bina’s voice pulled you out of a sentence about how (DUH) important it was to switch pipettes between samples.
“Oh, hey Bina! What’s up?” you waved excitedly at your friend, eager to do some meddling for her.
“Not much, how are you? Long time no see!”
“Yes, luckily you’re done with your chem requirements, otherwise you’d be here crying with us,” you laughed as Mingyu and Seungcheol looked on at you with interest. Jeonghan had long ago put on a pair of noise canceling headphones and was ignoring everybody. “Mingyu, Bina was my lab partner last semester. And she was a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“Hey!” Mingyu pouted.
“I mean at the very least she’s my height, so I didn’t have to readjust the biuret every time we titrated,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Bina.
“It’s not my fault you’re both short,” Mingyu protested, eyes flickering to Bina for some support.
“If it makes you feel better, I was terrible in lab too,” she offered up sympathetically, “YN is my patron saint of chemistry. Did she ever tell you about how I exploded two crucibles one time?”
“No!” Mingyu looked at her with interest, “Was YN also very mean to you and made you finish your work way ahead of time?”
“Yes!” Bina giggled excitedly, “Like why can’t we pull all nighters like normal people?”
“Hell no, I’m not disrupting my sleep schedule for y’all. No thanks,” you shook your head stalwartly. “Anyways, you two should exchange numbers so you can complain about me on your own time,” you chuckled. Bina and Mingyu seemed to agree and set about that task enthusiastically.
“Ah, sorry I’m being rude, this is my friend Hayoung! We’re in a writing foundations class together so we were working on that.”
“Hi,” she waved at everyone shyly.
“Hayoung, what’s your major?” you asked.
“Computer science, focusing on human & computer interactions.”
“Ooh?! Love me a girly in STEM! These two are comp sci as well! Do you all know each other?” you asked, mostly Seungcheol as Jeonghan was still intent on ignoring you.
“Maybe? You look kind of familiar, but I don’t talk to many people in class,” he chuckled honestly.
“I think we might have a class together?” Hayoung smiled.
“Oh wonderful! You two should exchange numbers too! Maybe you can work on comp sci stuff together,” you suggested. They weren’t really giving you too much to work with, if you were being honest.
“I’d actually love that,” Hayoung’s eyes creased into a smile, “I don’t know that many people in the major.”
“Is it because they’re being sexist?” your eyes widened and you raised a fist theatrically, “I’ll fight them all for you. Cheol, you will too, right? Jeonghan’s not much use in a fight, if I’m being honest,” you commented quietly, glancing at the target of your teasing.
“Sure,” Seungcheol’s face creased into a real smile as he watched you whisper about Jeonghan animatedly.
Hayoung and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers as you watched on excitedly. Hayoung was clearly pleased, but Seungcheol was making a face as if he had tasted something odd, but was too polite to say anything about it.
“Bina is so cute!” Mingyu remarked happily after they both left, “Lucky you with your cute lab partners!”
“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes at him, “I love doing unpaid babysitting in the lab.”
“Cheol, can I crash on your couch?” you spoke after he picked up your call.
“Yeah, of course! Are you okay?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, worried.
“Yeah, I’ve just been sexiled,” you grumbled, starting your walk towards Seungcheol’s apartment. He met you about halfway and the two of you caught up on the walk back.
“How are things with Hayoung?” you asked, not quite making eye contact.
“What?” his hand slipped as he was moving to turn the doorknob.
“Hayoung, did you guys ever meet up to work on comp sci together?” you asked, lips pursed as you followed him into his apartment.
“Oh, no, she texted me but I forgot to text her back,” Seungcheol shrugged.
“Text her back, you jerk!” you poked Seungcheol insistently, “Hayoung’s cute! And she likes you.”
“That’s good for her,” Seungcheol grumbled, irritated at your attempt to push him towards someone else. Maybe his cause was truly hopeless.
“You’re acting weird,” you glanced at him oddly before flopping down on the couch.
“No, you take the bed,” Seungcheol ignored your statement and plopped down near your feet, tapping your legs lightly.
“No! I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed!” you protested.
“No, seriously, sleep on the bed. I always wake up before you anyways. I’ll end up waking you up if you sleep out here.”
“I-,” you tried to think of another excuse, but he wasn’t your best friend for no reason. He knew you just as well as you knew yourself. “Okay,” you acquiesced, hopping up from the couch to walk into his room, “Do you need anything from here before bed?” you turned to ask him, hand on the doorframe.
“Nope, I don’t think so.”
“Okay, thanks again for letting me crash,” you smiled at him before pulling the door not quite closed behind you.
Once inside, you dropped your bag and helped yourself to a t-shirt and pair of shorts from Seungcheol’s drawers. You laughed at the way you were swimming in the shirt.
“I look ridiculous,” you laughed, walking back out into the living room. “Cheol, look,” you spread your arms out to your sides, showing Seungcheol the way that his t-shirt just swallowed you.
“I-,” his brain stopped for a few moments. He wouldn’t say anything, but he could in fact see your nipples as you tried to show him whatever you were showing him. “What?”
“Your shirt is too big on me,” you folded your arms over your chest, irritated that he had been listening.
“Oh yeah, well I’m bigger than you,” he replied curtly.
“Well, yeah,” you glanced away from him. He was in such an odd mood today! You grumbled just a little bit before flopping down on the bed. You were tired.
Tossing and turning, you fought for a long time to push down the arousal that was building in your gut. Being enveloped by Seungcheol’s scent was making your brain go haywire. You could feel yourself throbbing and you bit down on your fist in an effort to try and distract yourself, but that hadn’t worked. Glancing nervously at the door, you contemplated seeking some relief, but the idea of doing it in Seungcheol’s bed while he was just outside the door inspired guilt, worry, and worst of all, excitement. 
You managed to ignore yourself for about ten minutes before your left hand snuck down between your thighs, stroking them softly. Sinking deeper into Seungcheol’s pillows, you closed your eyes and imagined your best friend’s hands softly caressing and spreading your legs apart. You were embarrassed to hear the wet sounds of yourself opening up, but not embarrassed enough to stop. Your right hand came to tease the sensitive undersides of your breasts as your fingertips stroked languidly through your folds.
In the living room, Cheol wrestled with whether to disturb you or not. Several minutes ago, he had noticed that one of his textbooks was still in his room. He’d been planning to get ahead on a problem set, so it wasn’t as if he needed to disturb you, but he also didn’t see himself falling asleep anytime soon. Chewing his lip, he noticed that the door was still slightly ajar and decided to retrieve the book as you must not have gone to bed just yet.
When his eyes first landed on your face, your brows were knit up in utter concentration as your hands worked feverishly under the covers. Your front teeth had your lower lip pinned down as you bit back the loudest of your desperate noises. Seungcheol’s pupils dilated as he registered what was happening. Frantically, he tried to back out of the room, but his sweater caught the edge of a pamphlet that had been hanging off the bookshelf, sending a handful of items clattering to the floor.
“Fuck!” your eyes shot open, panicked as you met Cheol’s gaze, “I’m, you-, help!” you squeaked, pulling the covers over your face as you wished to vanish off the face of the earth.
Seungcheol’s mind went blank as he walked towards you, placing his hands over yours to pull down the covers. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, so overcome with embarrassment that you failed to register the look of hunger in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry Cheol, I didn’t, I shouldn’t have done that here!”
“What?” he cocked his head to the side, brain not really functioning.
“It’s your bed!” you looked at him as if he was crazy, “I just-, you smell so good,” you spoke without thinking.
“I…,” he looked you up and down, “You’re telling me I inspired this?”
“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that, oh my god!” you groaned, trying to shrug under the covers again. Seungcheol’s large hands held you still and you watched in disbelief as he brought your left hand up to inspect it. The shine of moisture on your fingers was mortifyingly telling, but he surprised you to your core when he brought your hand to his mouth and sucked your wet fingers inside.
“Huh?!” you choked out, eyes fluttering shut as he tongue stroked between your digits, tasting you thoroughly.
“You should’ve told me about this sooner,” he told you, voice gravely with desire, “I’ve been torturing myself trying to ignore how much I think about you.”
“Oh?” you blinked at him in disbelief.
“Yes, oh,”  Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you, “Now let me help, as you requested.”
His fingers wandered. His eyes widened slightly when he felt just how wet you were. The rumble that emitted from his chest almost sounded like a purr and you found yourself quickly breathless at his ministrations.
“Cheol,” you moaned, melting slightly as his substantially larger fingers swirled dizzyingly through your folds. He smirked down at you, more than pleased to hear your saying his name in that manner.
“So needy,” he chuckled, eyes flicking over you.
“Well I was halfway there when you walked in,” you teased him and his eyes flashed at you, a subtle warning.
He raised one eyebrow at you before sliding his fingers inside of you. You choked on your breath at the intrusion, though your legs parted asking for more.
“You-, your fingers!”
“Mm, how do they feel?” he smirked at you, confident.
“I knew they’d stretch me out, bigger than mine,” you panted and his eyes widened at the realization that this wasn’t the first time you’d imagined this.
“You think about me a lot?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now cocky.
“No,” you lied, glancing away to avoid his eyes.
“My thick fingers spreading you open,” he continued anyways, smirking when he felt the way you reacted around him.
“Seung-,” you whined, overwhelmed at the way he teased you.
“God I like hearing you say my name like that,” Seungcheol shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Can I see you?” he asked, other hand itching to peel back the comforter.
You nodded wordlessly. You were slightly mortified to reveal yourself to him in this way, but his other hand quickly distracted you. You watched his eyes rove across you appreciatively until they trained in on your bruise, his jaw clenching.
“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he exhaled sharply.
“Why? It wasn’t on purpose!”
“No, it’s not-,” Seungcheol paused. “That’s not why. I was annoyed because the idea of getting to be the one to leave marks on you has rendered me…basically unable to produce coherent thought.”
“Oh? OH,” your eyes widened, gears in your brain turning. “I mean…all yours, Cheol,” you smiled sheepishly at him.
“Really?” he groaned, looking at you appreciatively as he thought about exactly where and how he’d like to mar your skin.
“Seungcheol!” you snapped at him as he continued to mumble to himself.
“Maybe a handprint here?” he grazed your upper thigh with his palm, eyes dancing mischievously at you. “Or a necklace of hickeys,” he growled as he nipped at the base of your neck. He had decided to seize the opportunity to tease you, and as much as you liked it, you only had so much patience.
“Cheol, please,” you pouted, grabbing at his collar, “I can’t take anymore of this.”
“Yes princess,” he pulled an old nickname out of the vault. You melted.
“Mmmpf!” he smothered your next protest with a kiss.
“Seung. Cheol!” you moaned desperately as his hand grabbed your thigh, hard.
The strength in his grip set your nerves alight and your head fell back against the bed, arching your chest up towards him. His mouth took the opportunity to latch onto the underside of your breast, biting down firmly. Your hand fisted itself in his hair.
It was so much sensation. It was so good.
“Hn,” he pulled back with a breathless smile. His eyes flicked down to the spots where his mouth and hand had been and his lips curled into a cocky grin at the bright red marks. With any luck those would be bruised nicely tomorrow.
“That was…a lot,” you murmured as you caught your breath.
“In a bad way?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed with sudden worry.
“No,” you smiled at him, slightly fuzzy, “In a good way. A really good way.”
“Really?” his eyebrows raised back up with delight. “So you won’t mind if you bruise a little?”
“I don’t think I’ll mind even if you bruise me a lot,” you answered after some thought.
Your best friend’s eyes darkened. The way you had rearranged his words hit the possessive button in his brain like crazy. His lips nibbled and nipped their way down your torso while his hand came to cup your breast. His grip was on the hard side of firm as his lips latched onto a spot on your inner thigh. His tongue stroked across the sensitive skin as he sucked firmly.
Your thighs parted of their own accord as you squirmed at this building onslaught. As you shifted, you could hear the wet sounds of yourself spreading. Open and inviting.
“Cheol, please,” you tried to pull him towards you. “Please,” you panted.
Seungcheol, the bastard, increased the intensity of his sucking before releasing his lips with a loud ‘pop!’. The jolt of the disconnection sent a shiver through you and the spot where his mouth had been now felt woefully cool.
“Pretty,” he looked at the red mark appreciatively. The thought that you would be reminded of this encounter over the next weeks sent a streak of pride through him that was unexpected.
“Seungcheol!” you grabbed his face by his cheeks, directing his attention to you. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to kick you out and take care of it myself!”
His eyes widened and he chuckled sheepishly before reaching over you to pull a condom out of the nightstand. You watched, almost painfully aroused, as he undressed and unrolled the condom over himself. His cock bobbed proudly as he pulled his sturdy torso over you, slotting himself between your thighs.
You sighed when his cock came to rest against your core. You could already tell it was going to be good.
“Seungcheol, please,” you placed your hands around his jaw. “Need you.”
He nodded, reaching down to slip himself inside of you. A soft gasp escaped you as his head pushed in and you couldn’t help but relish in the stretch. Seungcheol took his time sinking into you. The whines and gasps that you made were way too good to be rushed.
“Cheol,” your hands clutched at the back of his thick neck until he was pressed flush against you. “Fuck,” you exhaled into his ear.
Seungcheol’s hand was gripping your hip so hard as he struggled to keep control of himself. Of all the things that he found overwhelming, the way you pulsed and squeezed around him, the little sounds you made as he had pressed into you…the worst of all was the way you smelled. His hand fisted itself further in your hip as he inhaled you, a most intoxicating scent.
You clenched around him as his hand tightened. He was sure to bruise you there, too, and you couldn’t wait. Knowing that you’d be able to see these marks as evidence that this wasn’t another crush induced dream made you feel crazed in a different way.
“You feel perfect,” Seungcheol groaned against your skin as his hips started to move. “I just knew it.”
Clench.
You hooked your legs around his hips as he pumped into you deeply. Each thick stroke pushed you dangerously closer to the precipice and you were ready to fall off the edge.
“Cheol,” you pulled back slightly to meet his blown out gaze. “I’m there.”
“Go ahead,” he encouraged you, aching to feel you come apart around him. “Be good and come for me.”
Your eyes squeezed shut as you let go. Your hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as your pussy fluttered around him. You didn’t even know what kinds of sounds you made as you simply didn’t have the presence of mind.
“So good,” he smiled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “So good,” he grunted before his hips shuddered and he emptied himself inside of you.
You wrapped your arms around his torso as he slumped down on top of you. He smiled when you gave him a squeeze with your entire body.
“So you’re kind of possessive, huh?” you chuckled softly after you’d regained your sanity.
Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut with a laugh. He hadn’t realized it, or maybe it was just because it was you, but yes. Yes he was.
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prettyboykatsuki · 8 days
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I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY
✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)
✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)
✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.
✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.
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Bright.
Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in  when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.
You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.
Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.
Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up.  The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.
There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.
Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.
When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.
The conversation is easy.
“Does that mean you trust me now?”
Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”
“See you later.”
“See you.”
You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.
__
You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.
He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.
(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)
You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.
You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.
He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.
He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.
You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.
He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.
“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”
You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.
Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”
Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”
He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”
“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”
The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”
You look proud again. “What? Fun?”
Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”
You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.
He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.
When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.
His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”
“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”
His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”
You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”
He cuts you off quickly.
“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”
The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.
“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.
__
Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.
You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.
It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks.  Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.
You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.
He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.
The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.
A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.
“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”
That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”
Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”
There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.
(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.
He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)
You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”
It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.
“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”
You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”
He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.
He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.
Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”
He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.
He finds it suits you.
A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.
You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.
“That was so bad!”
“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.
“I like your laugh, by the way.”
He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”
You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.
“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”
You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”
He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”
You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.
“I like your laugh, I think.”
You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”
He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”
He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.
“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”
“Nevermind. Shut up.”
You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”
The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.
“So you do like coding.”
“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”
The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.
We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.
__
Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.
He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while,  but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.
So its fine. He won’t waver.
He’ll just.. call you.
He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.
You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.
“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?”  You ask, after probing.
“In a way that matters, yes.”
You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.
He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.
“I don’t think that little of you.”
He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.
“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”
You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”
He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.
“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”
You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”
It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.
It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.
 These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.
(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.
Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.
He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)
 He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.
“Is it really that easy for you?”
You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”
“Is that what you’re doing with me?”
“What?”
“Is this…?”
He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.
Oh.
Oh.
__
The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.
It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.
 Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.
Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.
The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.
__
You call him every day.
You’ve been doing it for months.
He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.
You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.
There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.
He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s  your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.
You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.
You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.
“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.
“Yeah?”
You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.
“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”
He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”
You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”
He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.
“Want help looking?”
“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”
“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”
You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hater.”
You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.
“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”
Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.
“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”
He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.
“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”
His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.
“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.
“So you don’t want to date me?”
“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”
Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“How long is that, exactly?”
You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”
“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”
Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.
__
He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.
Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.
After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.
He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.
Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.
You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.
The anticipation nearly kills him.
He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.
“It’s you!”
The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.
“Hey.” He says, dumbly.
“Hi!”
__
The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.
It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.
He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.
Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.
The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.
“Whats your love language, Od?”
He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”
“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”
He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”
“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”
Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.
“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”
You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”
“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.
“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”
He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.
“Have some faith.”
He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.
“Your room or mine?”
“What?”
You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”
He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”
“Just trust me, okay?”
He concedes with embarassing swiftness.
“Okay.”
__
You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.
Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.
The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.
Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.
“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.
“Touching each other.”
He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”
He nods. Can’t do much more than that.
He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.
Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.
It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad  he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.
“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.
You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?
You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.
Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.
You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.
Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”
He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”
You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”
__
You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.
It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.
He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.
__
He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.
Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.
He fails in his attempt not to blush.
“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.
“Yeah. Morning.”
You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”
Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”
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✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL
this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾
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lizzyk137 · 7 months
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Figuring Out Parenthood- A Spencer Reid Story (Spencer Reid X Reader)
Summary: You had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. Now three years later, Spencer makes an appearance in your life, on Halloween, making you question- Is Spencer the father? Warnings: None, pure fluff
Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!
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His lips were locked against yours, his hands roaming your body as you laid back onto the bed beneath you. His woodsy cologne filled your brain with nothing else but him, intoxicating you even more. The more his skin touched yours the more you lost yourself. The night went on full dizzy in his embrace. The only reminder of your night together was the sweet dreams you had of his embrace.
And the two lines on the stick.
"Penelopeeee!" You dragged out her name, hoping she would ignore what she was doing and chat with you. You leaned against the door frame; two mugs full of hot tea in hand while you watched her type away at her computer. A small smile fell on your lips while you watched her head bounced as she danced along to the song she was humming.
"I'll be right with you, my love! Just one more minute... and done!" With one final click on the keyboard, her home screen popped up to a picture of the two of you and your adorable three-year-old son.
Penelope and you have been friends since you both started working for the F.B.I., she was your closest friend at work and out of work. You didn't work much together but you would occasionally help out on a few cases. You worked with a small group of people which didn't interact with anyone besides a few people, but Penelope always made sure you guys came out with her when she organized company functions, aka club nights. Which is how you ended up pregnant three years ago.
You weren't the type of girl for one-night stands or going clubbing. It was a stupid decision to get drunk and have a one-night stand, but they had given you the biggest blessings you could ask for. Work kept you busy and isolated, so meeting someone was out of the question but starting a family was something you had always wanted. You couldn't remember who you had slept with, just that he left a handkerchief behind with the initials SR engraved on it. You wouldn't tell Penelope what the initials were since you knew she would go to such lengths of trying to find him, but you had to figure he worked in the same building you did since most of the people attended worked with you. But you couldn't bring yourself to find out who he was.
"Is he almost here?"
"He should be in a few minutes, I gotta go down and get him from security." You handed her a mug, and she took a sip. "He's super excited and can't wait for everyone to see his costume."
It was Halloween and every year the F.B.I held a trick or treat party for the kids, and this was the first year that Percy, your son, was attending.
You both headed down to get Percy, teas in hand as you chatted. He cleared through security and ran into your arms, his little pumpkin pail discarded on the ground.
"Looks like we got a roller." You looked up to find a tall man grabbing the rolling pumpkin pail.
"Oh, thank you." He turned around and your mouth almost dropped opened. He looked just like your son.
"Spencer! I didn't know you were joining in on the celebration." Penelope exclaimed.
"Well Halloween is one of the best times of the year, plus JJ threatened me that I had to pass out candy this year." Spencer handed the pail to you, Percy's face still tucked into your chest. He smiled down at you then waved goodbye to Penelope before heading down the hall.
"Um, Penn... Who was that and why does he look like my son?"
She looked at you confused. "That's Dr. Spencer Reid. What are you talking about? They don't look the same."
"They look exactly alike!"
"I mean sure, they have some similar features but so does a lot of people." She shrugged and grabbed the reached-out hand that Percy gave her.
"I guess so..." You were unconvinced, but you shook it off when your son smiled up at you and waved his pumpkin pail around. You got up, and smiled back at him. "Lets get some candy, okay?"
Spencer looked down at the giant bowl of candy by his desk. The team had decorated the desks up and the meeting room upstairs had fun decorations for the kids to walk through. He never thought of passing out candy as fun but so far it hadn't been too bad. Penelope said she was going around with her friend from another department and her kid and to save some leftover candy for her but with how the bucket was looking, there might not be any left over.
He spotted Penelope's blonde hair peeking through the swarm of parents and kids along with the women he saw earlier. She was beautiful, and something about her seemed familiar but he couldn't figure it out which for him was irritating since he could always figure things out.
He saw them making their way over, stopping at each desk to collect candy. They finally made their way over to his desk, Penelope and the girl smiling down at the child who was hidden behind the line of kids at his desk. He looked up after a few kids and his heart caught in his throat.
The little boy looked just like him. But how, why?
The small boy smiled at him, giving out a trick or treat with a big smile, his brown curls bouncing as he raised the pumpkin pail up towards him, his body still frozen in shock. He quickly cleared his throat and gave a smile then poured some candy into the pail.
"I wike your costume. Look we have the same sonis!" The little boy waved his sonic screwdriver at Spencer, making Spencer laugh. They were both dressed as the 10th Doctor.
"I guess we do have matching ones!"
"Hey, Penelope. Can we talk?" It was a week after Halloween and Spencer finally caught Penelope alone.
"Sure, what can I do for ya?"
"W-who was that with you a few days ago for the trick or treating?"
"Oh, that was my best friend, Y/N, she works a few floors down."
"And the child with her?"
"Her son Percy, he's three years old. Why do you want to know?"
"She just looks like the girl I met at that night out at the club you dragged us to. And the child... well he looks like me." He sat down and Penelope looked at him with worry as his face went pale. "I can't help but think she was the one I had spent that night with... I was so intoxicated but she- well she looks like her... and maybe perhaps, Percy is mine." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
Oh, Spence... I think you two should talk." Spencer nodded.
The coffee shop was loud, but it didn't seem to mind Percy as he sat there colouring. Since Halloween all you've thought about was him, how he looked like Percy, how he smelled of the same cologne that the man in your dreams did. You couldn't shake it off that he could possibly be the father, and neither could he, you've come to find out.
He had found you a week ago at your desk. At first, he was nervous, rambling about all the probabilities and their known percentages on how he could be the father. You had stopped him right off, giving him the dates of which everything happened. After that, he had calmed down a little, but it wasn't until you suggested a paternity test to ease his mind was when he totally calmed down, which you assumed that he was just in shock.
You had the paternity test done a few days later and Spencer wanted to meet at a coffee shop to go over the findings together. You were slightly freaking out. You knew you would be fine if it wasn't him, you had done three years alone without a man but what do you do if it was him? You didn't know him at all, besides physically. Would he try to take Percy away? Would he want nothing to do with you if you did find out Percy was his? You couldn't stop your mind from running wild.
You saw Spencer's curly head heading your way with drinks in hand. He sat down two lemonades in front of you and Percy and a coffee for himself. He sat down and pulled out a manilla envelope from his bag. "Are you ready?"
You nodded your head and pulled Percy onto your lap.
Spencer opened up the envelope and pulled out the stack of papers his hands shaking. "Here you read it, I read too fast."
You looked at him confused but grabbed the stack of papers he handed you. Taking a deep breath, you read what was in front of you, looking at him once you were done. "You're the father."
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Also don't think anyone has said this (thats a joke) but like, art styles aside:
The animation, expressions, movement, everything of ATSV is IMPECCABLE.
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Like insanely, ridiculously, almost mind bogglingly good.
[This is a MEDIUM length post]
The main strength is the Emotion -
In terms of animation, the range of emotions Miguel is capable of expressing is like... crazy good. Gwen's emotions ARE UNSPEAKABLY IMPRESSIVE.
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LIKE...ANIMATING HER FUCKING BREATHING???? AND BLINKS!! AS AN EMOTIONAL CUE. HELLO???!!
And the movie hinges on this - almost every scene has an emotional cue that HAS to hit. Whether is Jess's looks of hesitation or Peter B.'s looks of horror.
And this may seem like the most ridiculous comparison ever made but like...
The Bee Movie and Across the Spider-Verse came out FIFTEEN YEARS APART.
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THE BEE MOVIE...THIS MONSTRASITY that has plagued humankind - was made less than two decades from THIS:
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The fact that we progressed that far as a society (pun intended) in that short of a time will never not baffle me.
I genuinely cannot name any other animated movie that:
Has multiple styles throughout the duration
Can seamlessly change styles without the viewer immediately noticing (like Gwen returning to her universe)
Show two or more animation styles on screen at the same time (and no, Roger Rabbit and Space Jam don't count - that's half live action lol)
Just off the top of my head - ATSV shows up to three styles in one scene: I'm mainly thinking of the scene that shows Hobie (customized - style 1), Peter B. (standard - style 2), and Miguel (a light stylized - style 3).
It can be brought to four if you want to count Miles/Gwen, though their style isn't visible.
I can think of a couple scenes that genuinely blew me away in terms of animation -
One being Rio's 'What-EVER?!' because of the little stance correction and head bob she does, because it's such a natural thing to do. And it adds so much to an already perfect line.
It's something someone would genuinely do IRL without even noticing.
Another I LOVE is Pavitr and Hobie roughhousing.
Like, I can't yell about these five seconds of animation more.
It's SO fluid it looks like Motion-Capture and I left the theatre googling is any Mo-Cap was used in the movie (and from what I can tell - no, it's all original animation).
The way Pavitr falls to the side and bumps them - This not only being a natural reaction to Hobie and his weight, but it also LOOKS natural. So much so you can see it affect Hobie's model too. The movement has kinetic energy on both models -
Which is AMAZING CONSIDERING THEY'RE ANIMATED ON LIKE FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES.
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In this shot alone, there's the guitar, vest, AND Hobie, all of which have their own animation rules. Plus the outline on his guitar AND him. And then there PAVI too, who's running at a higher frame rate, touching and interacting with Hobie.
So much so that Hobie's model nearly wraps himself around Pavi. Pavi's hair is moving, Hobie's guitar is moving, there's movement in the background - and it looks GREAT.
PLUS THE CAMERA IS MOVING AND GOSTLING. IT'S NOT A STATIC SHOT. The models and camera are moving AS IF THEY'RE REAL when they're not.
That's - My..I CAN EVEN COMPUTE THAT.
But by far, I think the range of expression used on Miguel is like... Chef's kiss.
(of course I was gonna trick you into reading another post about Miguel. Uh-huh that's what's about to happen)
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Like... are you kidding me?
NAH DEADASS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????
The whole later half of the movie hinges on Miguel looking buckwild crazy insane and they NAIL that. And like-
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Oh my god what the actual fuck
?????????????????????????? I........ I have nothing to add. After that picture......Nah... LMAOOO
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(left: actual photo of Moche watching this happen)
But Anyway chile, This movie is like.. genuinely a modern marvel.
If Marvel gave Tim Gunn 4 billion dollars and five years, whatever live-action rendition he would have made would not even compare to ATSV on any conceivable level - that's how good it is so jot that down.
And like...don't even get me started on Hobie..his design..his representation...girl I will start crying in this Arby's do not play with me
I just felt that needed to be said.
you get what I'm saying yall know what I mean iight coo
Here's a picture of Hobie to cleanse your palette.
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Bye.
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weirdmarioenemies · 1 month
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Name: Pyroclasmic Slooch (Sulucina vulcanis)
Debut: Pikmin 3
I think Pyroclasmic Slooch has one of the best names of any Pikmin creature! This is the one I break out if I ever need to explain what a Pikmin name feels like. A large scientific jargon-y sounding word, followed by a single silly little syllable it's perfect! And it IS meaningful, because Pyroclasmic is only one letter away from Pyroclastic, as in pyroclastic flow, a hot volcanic gas/rock current. And Slooch is just, look at this thing! It's what "slooch" looks like! Both as a noun AND a verb!
Fire in video game and monster design is usually pretty boring to me, just for how common it is. I get it, since it is pretty much the most "yeowch! don't touch" thing everyone is familiar with, but I have had enough of Charizardlikes bloating my media! Thank goodness, then, for Pikmin, which implements "conventional" elemental properties into fun, pseudoscientific speculative creatures! It may often be a big load of nonsense, but they explain the nonsense so confidently. Yeah alright. Whatever you say! Maybe a slug could be on fire.
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Hello Slooch! What a nice smile you have, framed by your oral tentacles! I wonder if Pyroclasmic Slooch's eyes are useful at all. A regular slug's eyes are mostly just for sensing light and dark, but that doesn't seem practical for a creature that makes its own light that would constantly be in view! Just to be safe, you should give this Slooch a thumbs up, in case it can indeed see you! (computer screen is a real portal to another world where pretend creatures live)
So yeah, Pyroclasmic Slooch is a slug on fire, or maybe a snail whose shell IS fire. It doesn't really matter, either way, the DESIGN is fire! The vibrant orangish stripes on its black body evoke flowing and cooling lava! Lava joke: I bet it was a real "aa moment" when they came up with that design quirk!
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As much as I love Pyroclasmic Slooch, it is a wild animal! And it will try to eat the min that you picked, with its funny blue tongue! Louie, everyone's favorite menace Louie, recommends cooking this tongue and no other part of the creature. Would You Eat? I wouldn't, but I wouldn't judge you for doing it. If you have plenty of Red Pikmin, though, their fire immunity makes Slooches very easy to deal with.
You know, real slugs like mold! Do you think Pyroclasmic Slooch likes mold? Maybe it could be friends, with mold. Let's introduce them!
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Name: Moldy Slooch (Parasitus pseudofungi elasticis hostus)
Debut: Pikmin 4
Hooray! Now they're inseparable! You may notice that Moldy Slooch's scientific name differs greatly from that of Pyroclasmic Slooch, and that is because the Slooch is no longer in control. It is being puppeted by a fungus! Its nervous system and slime organs have been entirely taken over. Isn't that nice? Now the Slooch doesn't have to do any work, because the fungus does all of that for it! This slug can just relax for the rest of its life, because it is not dead! A dried-up corpse wouldn't be useful a very good friend, would it? In fact, if the Moldy Slooch does die, it can be instantly revived by a phallic, yet kindly Toxstool! The gift of eternal life!
Moldy Slooch's description by Dalmo (the animal enthusiast who could have been writing for this blog the whole time and you would be none the wiser includes the incredible line "Slugga slugga choo choo! Here comes the fungal spore train." So fun! Whee! I want to ride the train!
Moldy Slooch is really the best friend someone could ask for. After I met it in person, and it introduced me to Toxstool, I've never felt better! So what are you waiting for, fellow living animals? Come visit our damp cave sometime! You are always welcome :)
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mitsies · 1 year
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-;. friendly competition ; michael kaiser > kaiser thinks he could treat you better.
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outside of his sport, michael kaiser doesn't imagine himself as too self-centered- although, he can't help but think that he'd be a really, really good boyfriend to you.
he'd treat you right, the way you deserve to be treated. he thinks about it a little too much- about how he'd put his hands on your waist when he kissed you, about the gifts he'd buy you- he's considered it all.
during his stay in japan, his lack of knowledge of the language has proved to be incredibly inconvenient. so he was matched with you, a local student with a passion for teaching, to tutor him in japanese.
it's a little embarrassing, frankly, to be so infatuated with someone who doesn't even spare him a second glance, but he thinks he makes it work. and he wholeheartedly believes that you would work, too, together as a couple. you're gorgeous, and he tells you this. he means it every time.
kaiser has never lied to you, not once, especially not when he says you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen. you never seem to buy it, though, always brushing him off without a second thought.
and he might be impatient, kind-of-shitty, insufferable, and a little too egotistical, but he thinks that he really could have a chance. you look at him starry-eyed and he's grown familiar with how your skin burns under his too-long-to-be-friendly touches.
he thinks he has a chance, that is, until he sees your instagram story one day after practice. he's in the locker rooms with alexis ness, chest still heavy and heaving and towel still around his barren neck when he clicks the notification stating that you've posted on your story.
and boy, was that a mistake, because now kaiser is positively seething, gripping his phone so hard it might smash into glass shards within his grasp.
because there you are, giggling and happy like a radiant flower, arms wrapped around someone else's neck. their face is cut off, and he can't make out who they are but it doesn't really matter because they don't deserve you.
you're too pretty to be hanging off someone else's arm. you're too funny to be laughing at anyone else's jokes. you're too good to be with anyone but him.
kaiser glares at his phone, ignoring ness' questions of 'what's wrong,' and 'why do you look like you're going to pass out.' he opts to shove the phone in his friend's face with a belligerent scowl, pressing his hand to the bridge of his nose.
ness 'ohs' and his face contorts as he tries to concoct a reasonable explanation as to why he shouldn't be too disheartened. "maybe.. it's not, like, a thing yet?"
and kaiser latches onto that. yes, ness is right- if you were with someone else, he'd know! you were friends with isagi, and isagi was... acquainted with kaiser. he'd be aware if you were dating someone.
and it's not a good trait to have- he's aware, fully aware- but kaiser doesn't know what he'd do if someone else had you.
so, he shoots you a text.
+
kaiser hey u doing anything tn?
you uhh no i think i should be free! what's up?
kaiser just wanted to see u wanna come to the library?
+
the library a train ride away from the blue lock facilities is the one he typically meets you at. it feels sacred now, some kind of holy ground, because he thinks of you when he thinks of it.
+
you oh how romantic bet u take all the girls there
kaiser just the ones i really like does 4 work? ill bring that drink you like
you how thoughtful
kaiser only for you
you see u at 4 then!
+
he shouldn't feel so smug but he can't help it as he looks up the next train to leave.
when he shows up to the library, you're already there in your usual spot. it's mostly empty save for the occasional university student passed out over their computer.
you twirl a pencil around with your fingers, humming something softly. the lights are mostly dimmed, and your figure is hardly illuminated in the ambiance of your computer's screen.
you have a familiar notebook, and it dawns on kaiser that you don't realize he's not here to study today.
"kaiser," you greet him with a warm smile as he slides into the seat next to yours. "hey. how've you been?"
"better now that i've seen you." he knows he's stupid, he knows he's cheesy, he knows he's embarrassing, but you laugh so he doesn't really care.
"smooth. you need to be put on a leash or something."
he laughs softly before relaxing his arms across the table, tipping his head to look up at you. he studies your lips and thinks about how pretty they'd look against his.
you start going on about something he can't really understand, and he just sits and stares a little until you gauge that he's not listening.
"am i going to fast?" you worry even faster, and kaiser knows exactly what he's doing when he sits up straight and reaches his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. his hand finds its way to your chin in a way that it's fluttered before but never stayed.
"no, you're fine," he smiles, "more than fine."
your breath is hot on his thumb and he pulls it away, relishing the bashful expression on your face.
"let's.. start from here."
he's again only half listening, this time clocking how you fumble over your own words like a baby deer learning to walk. he notices the furtive glances that you try to sneak over at him when you think he's not paying attention.
when you take a sip of the drink that kaiser's brought, an imprint of lipgloss is left stamped on the straw, and kaiser can't help himself because he thinks that shade might look pretty cute on him, too.
"you know," he says as you're rewinding and preparing yourself to speak again, "you look really nice today."
he means it, too. the sweater you wear matches your eyes and your hair is mussed in a way that makes you look so welcoming. he wants to touch your hair, so he does.
you purse your lips. "thank you."
"i mean it."
"oh. thanks."
his brows furrow. "you don't believe me."
your nose crinkles. "i do!"
"you don't."
you roll your eyes and prop your head up with your hands, elbows on your desk. "this conversation feels incredibly pointless."
his hand is on your knee and you try not to trip over your words. he smiles, though, and you know he's seen through your facade.
"i'm getting to the point. just be patient."
"hurry up so i can keep being smarter than you." you wave the pen you're holding in his face and he snags it with his free hand, dropping it on the table.
"you're making me want to take longer, y'know," kaiser laughs. you faux-scowl. "and you can't really say you're being smarter than me when you still haven't noticed."
a heat scalds your face. you open your mouth to ask 'what' but you already know, and kaiser's lips crash against yours. it's graceless, your kiss, all teeth, but he smiles when you kiss him back. when he pulls away for a breath, his lips are tinged the same color as yours.
you blink. "what?"
and kaiser laughs. a real, happy laugh, the one you're so familiar with. it makes your heart thunder in your chest like a bird fighting its cage.
"let me do that all the time," he says. he's not sure he can manage to say what he means, to put the words 'i like you' out into the world but he thinks you get the gist of it because you're hot-faced and dizzy as you hover close to him again.
"i didn't think you wanted to."
kaiser narrows his eyes. "i've been flirting with you since i met you."
"you're kind of.. just like that."
"serious?"
"yeah. kinda."
"shit."
"mhm."
"at least it worked."
you smack his shoulder gently and he lets his weight drop into your side. his body fits against yours like it was made for you.
"what made you decide to tell me now?"
and kaiser stills. he's a little embarrassed. you catch on to his silence though, and your eyes widen: "no way. wait."
rushing to open your phone, you pull up your instagram account. "my story?"
"of course not. who do you think i am?"
and it's your turn to laugh. "kaiser, that's my sibling."
"oh."
"'oh.' yeah."
"it's not entirely my fault-"
"give me a break," you sigh like you hate him but there's a smile on your face. "you owe me another tea."
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mdr-writings · 7 months
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Streamer!Eren x reader pt.2
A/n: I'm sorry I took so long to get this part out. I was very busy with my classes, I had relationship problems, family issues, I was a hot mess. But after rewrite after rewrite I can finally put this out. How convenient that its on Final Aot day. Honestly, I'm also glad that I am putting it out today bc I'd rather be hot and bothered rather than sad and sobbing. Btw I am gonna fix the first part because I feel like it lacks a lot of things. If you still want to read it, it’s linked below
wc:4.3k
Part One
Cw: slight teasing of weight, oral ( fem receiving), overstimulation, heavy kissing
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” So does Eren behave himself when he talks to you guys,” you ask the chat as you sat down on his lap.
“What? you know I always behave myself,” he cocks his head towards you grinning. “Sure you do,” you said rolling your eyes. You know that he rarely behaves himself when it comes to you. So, you could assume he’s the same in front of an audience. You point your finger towards the camera. “Look, seems like the chat knows you better than yourself.” 
Eren’s attention shifts to the screen to see the chat flooding with comments siding with you. “It’ll be your own people huh?” you let out a quick chuckle while picking at your nails.
“Do you guys have anything you wanna ask her,” he questioned. 
You speak up, “Yeah, you guys can ask me anything “. You didn't know where this sense of comfortability came from. Maybe it was Eren's aura or the way he communicates with his audience. It’s a possible reason as to why he has such a big following.  
Eren has always been transparent about how he feels whether it’s about something or someone. The guy has a hard-on for conflict, but the way he is authentic with himself is admirable. “Anything?” Eren raises his eyebrows in amusement. The sound of a notification alert pops up on the monitor. A monotone robotic voice booms from the computer’s speaker” what is the freakiest thing you've done?” 
 “What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows together. Of course, you were not going to show that side of you. Who do they think they were trying to ask a question like that? Perhaps you do tell them, then what? You become the biggest streamer’s slut? Smart remarks filled your head ready to be spat at the viewers. Though, integrity got the best of you and decided to remain quiet.
 “Aww come on, you can’t let the audience down now” he teases. Eren begins soothingly stroking your thigh. As he strokes, he draws patterns of circles, leaving you to accidentally shudder in his grasp. He then intriguingly raises his eyebrows. 
“Oh my god, I'm literally slipping off of you” you grab on both sides of his thighs to try to push yourself up. “Geez you’re like a fucking slip and slide, what did you do bath in, butter?” you mumbled. Eren looks down to your bottom half and notices your butt touching his knees. “It’s okay, I got you,” he murmured.
“Goddamn, you’re heavy as fuck.” You whipped your head to face him to strike him a glare. He then adjusts himself with you on top, making your bottom rub against his crotch. A low groan escaped his mouth. You felt heat brewing on your face. 
“Uhhh let’s see, is there any more questions?” you ask desperately looking at the screen. “Y/n you didn't even answer the first one” he raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. You stop your internal thoughts as you once again feel a hot sensation on your thigh moving. You try not to acknowledge the hand with clear intentions of riling you up. 
“You gotta toughen it out y/n.”
 “Actually,” you start. Eren eyes shot up in interest. “I can recall, the time I... you know... to a professor in a class,” you stammer over your words. Instantly, a wave of regret crashes into you. Somehow you forgot Eren attends this same college and classes you take. You silently cursed at yourself.
“Oh?” Eren’s lips curled up into a smirk. “And who might that professor be?” he questioned. Learning this fun fact about your sexual deviances aroused Eren's curiosity. In a millisecond, your ear is set ablaze as pressed his Eren's lips against it. “Would that be Professor Erwin or Miche?” His warm breath brazes your ears which ignites a fire in your stomach. “Or maybe Professor Levi?” his hand slithered its way towards your inner thigh. Your legs quickly squeeze together in hopes to stop the throbbing that started between them. Luckily, Eren was just in time to snatch his hand away from the trap. Your face was twisted up in frustration. 
This hasn’t been the first time that Eren has teased you. But this felt different, it’s almost as if you don’t want it to stop. The words he’s throwing at you don’t feel like feathers this time around. His hands on your thighs feel like it’s burning through your skin. The heartbeat in your core seems to pulsate harder and faster. You didn’t want it to stop but you were fighting to not look desperate.
Satisfied in your response, Eren clasped his hands together. “Alright I'm gonna end it right here make sure you share the stream with your friends, follow Y/n on her socials and repent, toodles” he sings. Eren leans over to hit a hotkey on his keyboard which he assumes ends his streams. He then swivels the knobs on the computer’s speaker on mute. He once again lays a hand on your thigh. You let out a short hum clearing your throat. He then leans back to take notice of your stiff position in his lap. Eren lightly squeezes your arm,” You, okay?” 
“I’m fine,” you pull away from his grip. Eren can tell when he goes overboard. He could just make it up to you by buying your favorite food like he always does. But for once in his life, he would rather be mature and talk it through.
“Hey, I know this was your first time on here and I know it was a bit overwhelming,” he breathed. “I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” 
“I said I’m fine Eren,” you raised your voice. Eren was taken aback by your sudden attitude towards him. His once loud and lively room was now clouded with silence. “I think we should head down now,” he placed his hands upon your plush waist. Gripping the chair handles, you turn around allowing your legs to lay against Eren’s waist. “I lost my appetite,” you whispered in monotone. 
You couldn’t understand yourself as to why you suddenly opposed his suggestion. Wasn’t your main objection being to take him downstairs? You could just walk away from him and have that same gut-wrenching feeling in your stomach. But your body wouldn’t allow you to move. Something snapped, those times of playful bickering started to build a form of lust and desire. Maybe now was the time to reveal the real reason behind the constant squabbles.
“Y/n, I said I’m s-”
“You know,” you started. “Our little fights always end up leaving me confused,” your gaze pandered between his dark forest green eyes and plump lips.
 From what you could remember, Eren constantly had some girl hooked up on him. Hell, he even got Mikasa wanting to try him out. But for some reason he could never really settle. His mind always seemed to wander to the same person, you. The squabbles could be played off as friendly but the feeling of wanting it to go further lingered. But as a result, it left you reaching for more, wanting him more. 
Eren’s heart pounds loud against his chest. He always felt as if going further wasn’t an option. He had his moments where he just wanted to hold you so close, as if he would die if he let go. Moments where he wanted to make you his. Perhaps if he did the things he thought of doing to you, how would he face the friend group, what about his fans, and Mikasa? He decided that acting upon his true feelings towards you was too risky.
“We’re friends Y/N” he confirms, his eyes soften under your gaze. Your eyes then pondered around his room. “Is that all you want to be?”
He huffs out an air of defeat. The sound of the ventilation buzzing was consuming the room.
“I-I” he stuttered as the pounding of his heart was breaking his sternum. He raises a hand to cover his rose-colored face.” Y/n what’s the point of this,” he audibly muffles. You reach up to pry his hand away from himself and hold it in your palms.
“I’m doing what I feel is right to me,” you reply with reason.
As corny as it felt, you no longer had interest in letting the feeling of desire leave you again.
“So, antagonizing me is what feels right to you? “Yup, that sounds just like you,” he speculated. Your face drops into a frown,” No dumbass.” Your fingers hook in the crevasses of his. Eren scrunches his eyebrows together in uncertainty. “Then what?” You place your intertwined hands over your heart that was protected by your flesh. “Us” you replied in a hush tone. It seems like Eren’s face couldn’t get any redder. Your hands enclosed over his, touching your chest, it felt as if he were in his recurring dream. This time, he was hoping there would be no interruptions to wake him.
“Are you fucking with me,” Eren interrogated in disbelief. Your skin began to spread warmth to your face. “Yes, I mean... no but I want to- if you know what I mean,” you ran over your words frantically. Still not connecting the dots, Eren’s head cranks his head to the side. You inhale a shaky breath” I can’t believe I’m saying this but…”
“Eren, I like you,” you sheepishly state. It was as if you could hear a needle drop on the floor. To make matters worse, the screaming vents were now hushed. “Well?” you quizzed. His eyes darkened as he stared through your soul. Your heart tanked to the lowest part of your stomach. Your confession has left you embarrassed and empty handed with no response.
That same damn feeling.
Your frustration grew as you started to pull your legs away from his waist. A hand jumped out to grasp at your thigh pulling you closer. You jump at the sudden movement. “I want you to say it again.” You could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. He got some nerve to try to humiliate you. “Hey, I finally have the courage to tell you- “
“Y/n, I want you to say it again,” he repeats while his eyes were capturing your psyche. You silence yourself as you can sense his serious demeanor. His eyes were dissecting every part of your face.
“I like you,” you whispered.
Suddenly, you felt your lower half become weightless. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck for security. Eren’s arms gripped the back of your thighs as he moved towards his bed. It was like time was strolling through Molasses. You begin to study his face. So, tense and stern as if it was in concentration to finish a task. Just minutes ago, you were just stopping by to send a message from your friends. Now you were in his bed waiting for his next move.
Dropping you onto the bed, he stands in front of you, sighing while his eye sweeps over your face. You bite your lips anxiously not wanting to make any other part of your body move. Once again, the room continues its loud humming.  
 “I try so hard to resist, but you always seem to reel me back in.” You remain still as your thoughts race in your head. “Do you not care about what people will say,” He harshly grips his biceps.
“No”
His jaw clenches tightly. Why couldn’t you understand how risky it is for the both of you? The possible backlash of his viewers that was also used to seeing Mikasa on the stream. Mikasa possibly being jealous that the two of best friends are entangled in each other’s arms. He thought of the many outcomes of the situation which were all negative.
“Why can’t we keep it a secret, nobody has to know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. Eren walks towards you, stopping close as your legs almost touched. He leans over, his face nearing to yours. His minted breath tickles your nose.
 “Because Y/n, being around you, I can’t be secretive.” His closeness has you yearning, you crave him. Your eyes frantically search his, you could almost feel your heart jumping out your chest. Not waiting a second more, you crash your lips into his. Releasing years of tension and desire, you melt as your lips mesh together.
 He loses balance as you pull him on top of you. Regaining his composure, he leans in closer to your face. You hastily reach up to grab a hand full of his locks, enclosing his hair in your fingers. Eren groans as your grip tightens. His groan sends millions of nerve shocks to your core. You let out a soft moan into his mouth. A sudden wave of clarity hits you as it feels like you haven’t gotten his full approval. A quick smack could be heard as you pulled away from his lips.
“Are you okay with this, we can stop,” you inquire trying to steady your breathing. Eren chuckles as if your question were nothing but a joke. “I don’t think now is the right time to start asking questions.” You smile brightly leading him back to your lips. He then pushes harder into the kiss making you needlingly whine.
 He begins tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He sweeps his tongue in between your lips, exploring your warm mouth.  You lower your hands towards his pants, rubbing his hard print. Eren quickly pulls away from your mouth while pushing you back flat against his bed.
He now feels the temperature of the room increasing by the minute. He pulls the hem of his shirt over his head. Your eyes scan his toned body as he studies yours. He decides he wasn’t going to be the only one shirtless. “Arms up,” he commands you. You lift your arms over your head as he pulls your shift off. Now bare breasted you cover yourself up. “Don’t be shy now, should I cover mine too,” he joked covering his tanned nipples. You let out a short giggle, rolling your eyes revealing your chest. Eren smiles as he trails his lips down towards your breast.
You shiver as you feel his tongue leave hot kisses on its journey down south. He latches on to your hardened nipple, sucking and licking as he flicks the other in his hand. You jolt up panting from his touch. The sounds of you moaning tighten the grip of print in his pants. “Eren” you whimpered; your core was leaking more of your slick.
“Feels good?” he asked with a labored breath. “Mmhm,” you moaned. His fingers began to run up and down the sides of your legs. Your head grew hot and dazed, the warmth of his touch scorched your skin. He then lowers his head to peck your thighs leading down to your heated core. Your heart rate spiked as you knew these course of events officially change everything about your relationship with him. Eren’s eyes reach yours to ask to continue. You harshly swallow the hard ball of saliva stuck in your throat.
You then nod your head while swiping your tongue on your lips as the heat made them chapped. Your legs felt a strong pull as thighs were raised to the sides of your stomach. Swiftly, your panties were snatched away from your body. Then you look down to see his head ducked below your thighs. A wet long stripe swiped across your lower lips. Your legs quickly try to shut but eren’s reaction time was faster, catching them in his hands.
“You want me to stop?” He asks. You shook your head side to side in desperation for him to continue. “Then keep still, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you responded.
Settling back in between your thighs, you felt another long stripe now on your folds. “Oh fuck,” you cried. Your breath was hitching, you felt air being sucked out of your lungs. Eren could felt his cock get more sensitive as he rubs it against his pants. He towards the top of your pussy and puckered his lips around your needy bud, giving it several pecks.
“Oh my god, “ you moaned loudly. Your hands were clawing at your chest not having another place to settle. The sensation was overwhelming your body, the heat from the room and his mouth set you aflame. You felt a long intrusion prodded at your sopping hole, entering you slowly. You let a high-pitched squeal as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eren gazed up at your face turning in satisfaction. He lets out groan around your hard bud buzzing it into more pleasure.
“Yes, right there,” you screamed out. Eren works his fingers harder and deeper into your hole. Stretching and curling his long digits. The squelching of your dripping core and screams echoed around the room. Eren began to feel the grip of your walls tighten and loosening, letting him know you were close to your speedy climax.
“Eren, more please,” you needily whined pushing yourself closer to his face. He then removed his fingers and plunged his tongue into your hot core, swirling it around. Once again glancing up, he peeks at your pleasured face, lips falling into a perfect “o”. His fingers start to circle around your clit. Your feet curl up and down over his broad shoulders. While soaking and scavenging your hole, he brushed over a small plush button. Your thick arousal dripped on to his black satin sheets leaving a damp puddle underneath you.
You gasp hard as you arched your back off the bed. He smirks as he hits the sensitive spot over and over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your stomach clenched.  “I’m gonna cum,” you panted wearily. You felt his pace on your bud and hole quicken faster than before. He presses deep into you, numbing the spot that weakened your senses.
“Ahhh, yess” you hiss in despair. The band in your stomach begins to ripple harshly. He pinches your clit tightly in between his fingers, yanking the nerves upwards. In an instant, your walls clench and stutter profusely.  Panting and crying out, as Eren decides to rub you through your orgasm making you whine in pain.
“Eren, no more, please!”
He shushes you while enthusiastically applying more pressure on your bud. The sensation of you needing to release again ached you. Fluids suddenly began spurting from your overstimulated cunt. You cry out as drool seeping out your gaping mouth.
“goooood girl,” he praises you, slowly drawing circles on your clit. As your breath settles, he slowly removes his fingers from you. Looking over, he presents his dampen fingers to you. “You might wanna get a- “
Eren slipped the wet digits into his mouth, licking and slurping your juices from his hand. Blood drained from your face as you watched him pop his fingers out of his mouth. He smiles at your astonished reaction.
“You taste good,” he smirked. “Shut up!” you angrily yelled. He then began moving closer towards you. 
“Wanna try?”
“Eren, I swear to god, get away from me,” you shouted grabbing the covers from underneath to protect you. “Come here~” he teases. He quickly makes his way to your side while cackling. You shriek, a gasp of wind grazes you as he rips the blankets away from your bare body.
“NO,” you scream out as his face is inches away from yours. Eren halted his body from moving further. “You actually don’t want to try it?” he questions. You slightly turn your head away from his deep green eyes. 
“Well, I- uhm”, you nervously stammer out. Eren softly smiles at your demeanor in enjoyment, “it’s embarrassing,” he finishes for you.
“It’s embarrassing,” you shyly confirm while nodding your head. His fingertips rest at the bottom of your face, tenderly pushing it back to face him. Your eyes attach to his, occasionally shifting to his plump lips. “Listen, I’m not gonna force you,” he assures.” But it was funny watching you scream,” his dimple forms on his cheeks as he breaks out in laughter. You frown in humiliation but soon, bits of giggles spill from your mouth. Your joined laughter filled your bodies with happiness, neither you nor he wanted it to fade into the abyss.
Eren laughter dies out as he focuses once again on your face. His thumb reaches your lips, gently brushing over them. Your eyes saturated with temptation, inching closer to his warm lips. He understood your command, closing the thin gap between the both of you, your mouths gracefully settled on each other. You could feel your chest twist and twirl in excitement.
 Could it be love? No, no, that’s a tad bit heavy to use the L word on the same day of your confession. It felt too light label it as a crush. Whatever it was, bonded the cracks of your heart that formed each day that came before this one.
Letting the kiss linger a second longer, you could taste a reminisce of a sweet and tangy flavor on his mouth.  You pulled back from him allowing a sigh to slip out, “I wanna try it,” you confessed. Eren’s eyebrows slanted in confusion, “You already did”.
“No, I did- OH!” You shouted covering your mouth. You jokingly smacked your lips together to taste yourself again, “you’re right I don’t taste bad”. Eren smiles at your blatant wittiness, it’s one of the things he most admires about you. The quick jabs you throw at him and the rest of the group, it seems he’s the only one who manages to keep up. 
The mention of the group assisted in his daze to drift to the main purpose of you being here. “Y/n, we should probably head down now, it’s been while since you left them”. You slid your shirt over your head as you hummed in agreement. He follows your lead and begins to put his shirt on.
Time seems to pass on fast, in a span of minutes you were introduced and teased on his stream, let out your confession and allowed the man you have been eyeing out on for years to devour you.
“Dammit,” you stoop down to look under his bed. “What are you looking for”, he inquires also tilting his head down. Your hands blindly wander under his bed frame, “I can’t find my underwear”. The constant slapping of your hand against his floor was tiring and the lack of light in his room didn’t help with your searching.
 “Oh, you mean these”, your head turns up towards the brunette boy. His hands hold the panties, balled up and enclosed under his fingers. You stride towards him quickly as he grins, eyeing your exposed lower parts.
 “Eren, give it to me,” you warned sternly. He backs up raising the panties behind his head, “it was so good you’re begging for more huh?” he taunts.
You angrily step closer to him, “Eren!” you gritted your teeth. “I don’t know I think it’ll kind of be exciting to free ball it, don’t you think”, he laughs still steps backwards. 
“Fuck you,” you angrily retort.
“Ah, we’ll get to that another time, don’t wanna be too needy”.
Finally reaching him, you stare with dagger in your pupils. Not a peep could be heard as he stares back with levity, seeing this as nothing but fun. Your eyes shift between the parallel green ones, fury congests your stomach. Eren fights the urge to grab your face and push your soft lips on his. 
“Whatever”, you huffed out in defeat, going to put your shorts back on. He smiles lightly, retreating his prize into his top dresser drawer. You make your way towards his door ready to exit but something still nagged at your thoughts.
“Eren, what is this now”, you questioned in concern. He slides the band out of his hair, making the brown locks frame his face and shoulders. “You mean, what’s going on between us,” he asks with vagueness. “Mmhm” You hummed wanting him to continue. 
“Oh yeah, your mine for sure”, he carelessly raked his fingers through his tresses. You felt heat flash across your cheeks, flustered by the fact that you were now in his possession. 
Eren then bites the band while gathering his hair into one fist in the back of his head. The back side of his biceps strained; veins flexed as his grip tightened on his hair. You stare at the voluptuous muscles that fought against his flesh. The boy finally places the band in his other hand then ties it into a somewhat presentable bun.
“Even in front of them”, you questioned referring to your joined friend group. The door was now ajar, the light of the hallway bled into his room making the luminesce shine on your body. “We’ll talk more later, let’s eat,” he mumbled nodding his head into the lit-up hall. You whispered a quick “okay” as you made your way out and soon, he follows right after.
Darkness had absorbed every spec of light in the room, except one blinking spot of red on Eren’s desktop.
   ⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ 
“And I even got the chance to hold one”, Armin boasted proudly. The other remaining friends gathered around the table excited to hear about Armin’s oceanic studies. Food was placed on the counter waiting to be consumed, mainly waiting to be consumed by Sasha as she anxiously stared at the thinning steam that rose from the pot.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous to only be for a general research assignment”, Jean asks in genuine concern for the blond. “No, not at all”, Armin answers while swiping between photos on his phone of the sea animal he held. Jean sighs in defeat, what a way to be reckless for an extracurricular class.
Mikasa sat in between the 2 blondes, patiently waiting for you and eren’s arrival. She pondered at clock resting against the wall. It’s ticking reminding her every second and minute goes by without the appearance of her 2 friends up the stairs. 
“It’s going on fifteen minutes now”, she informs the group. “I'm sure they’ll be down in a sec”, armin reassured while glancing at the time on his phone. 
“Yeah whatever, who’s idea was to wait for him anyway”, the food fiend groaned.  Armin and Mikasa accusingly pointed their fingers towards Jean. “ I thought it would be a nice way of gathering together”, his face painted in pink.” “Mama’s boy”, Sasha muttered under her breath. 
“ Hey, I heard that! ”
Connie, too consumed by his phone to engage in conversation decided to do a check up on his socials. Twitter was the first choice, he laughed obnoxiously at a couple of tweets from people he followed closely. Afterwards, he viewed the current top 10 trending topics.
 Elon Musk, a copycat.
Megan thee Stallion, she can step on me.
One Piece Live action, mid.
Jaegermeister exposed, about damn time.
 It wouldn’t be surprising if eren did a tip slip, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could’ve done. Connie, not anticipating the unexpected, lazily pressed the bolded subhead. Automatically, the top video began to play out, his breathing came to a sudden pause; pupils dilated in shock.
  “No way”
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@sofamochi​   @bootlegroach   @nafi-2004  
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lizthewriter · 5 months
Text
as the banks begin to break / sirius black
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PAIRING  adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader
SUMMARY  you run the blood analysis for another mystery body - perfectly healthy, no suggestion of how the person died. it was frustrating going back to your boss with nothing. another mystery. and then, you're much too fed up with the feds taking away your stiffs. you take it upon yourself to investigate the mystery of this body further.
"magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"
sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.
"what the fuck."
TAGS  adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader, mystery fic???, (3) question marks, idk i thought the concept for this was cool and wrote it because why not, intrigue, reader obviously DOES NOT believe in magic, harry potter and the deathly hallows
QUOTE  "too tempting not to touch, / but even though it shocked you, / something's electric in your blood," - various storms and saints by florence + the machine
WORD COUNT 3.6K
WRITTEN  1.6.2024
you -
hey, boss wants you to run blood analysis on this john doe we got earlier today. ran his fingerprints through the system, but we came up with nothing. he doesn't expect for you to get a hit, but he wants you to try anyways. i faxed you the preliminary report. send boss your results asap. see you tommorow!
you listened back to the message on your machine before getting to analyzing the blood sample left on your desk. your dear friend and the medical examiner on your team, james, had examined another one of those odd stiffs this morning. dead, but for some reason, no one could figure out how. there had been dozens, if not more than a hundred, in the past two years like this one. more on record in the last century, but the precinct hasn't seen numbers like these since world war two.
this paticular victim was different than the others, however. all other bodies had been identifiable - meaning the police was able to figure out who had died and notify next of kin. this one wasn't - no form of i.d, no money (other than some odd gold and silver coins, most likely worthless), no fingerprints in their databases. you probably wouldn't get a hit on the dna, but you could try.
there was another reason this john doe was fascinating. despite the fact that it seemed like he fell off a building, the preliminary report showed that he recieved the injury post-mortem. james' examination of the body concluded that he must have fallen more than forty stories, but the buildings nearby were less than five stories.
dead bodies don't just fall out of the sky.
you ran the dna profile you had through the national dna database - and surprisingly, you had a pop-up on your screen.
paternal match - scott constance moody
"born august 17, 1912, relations, history, blah blah blah, arrested for public drunkness and indecency on multiple occasions . . . last known address."
the door to your lab slammed open - in anticipation, you immediately closed the file and turned off your computer.
"have any evidence for us this time?" at this point it had become routine. thompson from "mi5" would whisk away the bodies, claiming something ridiculous like "drug deal gone wrong" or "national security risk," looking and acting very much like someone working for a secret government agency trying to hush-hush a deeper plot afoot.
"nope," you responded with an attempt at a solemn expression. "unfortunately, the blood analysis was a dead end. he's just some guy, i suppose."
"we appreciate your discretion," he responded, shaking your hand firmly. you mean you appreciate me not complaining to the other guys at the precinct. certainly is suspicious that an odd-looking fed comes taking dead bodies as much as he does. even if you were to raise suspicions, who would believe you? you were a female nerd practically living in a back closet while the big, strong men handled the real world. he left with nothing else to say.
you turned your computer back on and opened the file again. you scribbled down the address and just as you were about to leave, you looked back down at the dna profile for doe and found something g peculiar. an odd gene marker you had only ever seen a few times before - including your own blood. you drew the profile closer to you, staring down at it. you had never been able to figure out what it was. six years of higher education had taught you nothing and the fancy, hot-shot professors you had take a look couldn't even understand what they were looking at.
what is up with this guy?
-
you knocked on the front door to an old house, out in the country. pastures of green painted in the skyline, cows and barns littering the landscape beyond it. beautiful, quiet, humble. a very fitting place for an eighty-four year old man.
you saw someone glance through curtains in a window. they disappeared soon after and didn't answer the door. you knocked again and pulled out your police badge. "scott moody? london police, i need to speak with you." you hoped your tone seemed formidable enough. you weren't a cop, you were a forensic scientist, but you needed to speak with him. you needed to understand these dead bodies and the only way to do that was to investigate this moody guy.
finally, the door swung open, and a rather gruff and grumpy man answered. "will you stop that racket? what the hell do you want, girlie?"
you drew in a breath. what should you tell him? you didn't want to lie - that felt cruel. but at the same time, you could suddenly understand why your colleagues seemed so drained after sharing the terrible news to family members. the pressure weighing your stomach was sickening.
"i'd like to ask you some questions about your son, mr. moody. do you mind if i come in?"
"yes, i very much do mind! what's someone like youse interest in my alastor?"
"alastor . . . sir, i'm very sorry to tell you this, but . . . well -"
"out with it, girl!"
"your son died. approximately at twelve forty-five last night. the circumstances of his death are rather . . . under investigation. i just need to gather more information, to find out who killed him."
the man looked genuinely concerned (which suprised you slightly, considering how rude he was) and took a shocked step back. he glanced back inside his own house and then at you. "there's nothing you can do," he said weakly, then shutting the door in your face. you shouted for the man, pounding on his door, but got no response. in a huff, you stormed back to your car and slumped in the driver's seat. you ran a hand down your face - how could you ever think that you could be an investigator? you? you laughed at yourself - so full of yourself, you were neck deep in your own shit. never were you to pull a stunt like this again, not if you wanted to get fired.
as you started the car and swung your gaze around to back out of the driveway, you caught the man sitting out the side window, tying a note to a - was that an owl?
perhaps he was sending a message to someone - through an owl, like a homing pigeon. you had only one instinct.
follow the owl.
-
driving through the chaos known as the london streets while chasing a bird was a nightmare, but somehow you managed. here you stood, looking out upon a charming old row of houses. the bird had flew to one in the middle, the exterior bricks blackened compared to the crisp pastel orange of the other houses. someone opened the window, letting the owl in, and then closed the window.
you decided to sit there and wait. wait and wait and wait. for what, you didn't know. for the owl to come back out? for you to build up the guts to knock on the front door with very many questions? no, that was a bad idea. who knows who is in that house, what they're doing. so you waited for someone to come out and luckily, they did. a man with long, black hair strutted elegantly down the steps to the front door and down the road. you got out of your car and decided to follow him.
you don't know what had gotten into you recently. the million questions swirling through your head had apparently begged enough to be answered that you just had to oblige, no matter the consequences. the man was dressed rather odd, you noticed. a grape-colored velvet suit with tailcoats, a mustache like your grandfather had worn. he dressed like a man out of time.
when he stopped walking, you stopped. when he started again, you were right on his ass (well, feet away, but still). he took a laise through a farmer's market, glancing around himself a few times before leaving without buying a single thing. he walked down the road and turned into an alleyway. naive as you were, you followed him and found the alleyway empty. only trash littered the ground.
stepping forward, you peeked behind dumpsters and other barriers of the sort. deciding that he must have disappeared somehow, you turned around with a sigh . . . only to be shoved up against the wall by the very man you had been following.
you had two first impressions of the man. the first was that, now that you could observe him up close, you noticed that he was devilishly handsome. the second was that he had a stick pointed at your throat and seemed rather impressed with himself for it.
"you have about ten seconds to explain why you're following me, hm?" his hands were gripped around the fabric of your collar shirt, bunching up the neatly ironed cotton. so much for looking polished. "who are you? fudge's minon? death eater?"
"i'm a member of the police - if you'd only give me a moment to show you my badge -"
"not a chance," he responded, pressing the stixk further into your neck. really, is that supposed to intimidate me? you thought in annoyance. "who are you really?"
"i'm telling the truth."
"how did you find me?"
"i followed you from that house on grimmauld place."
"how do you know about that?"
"following the homing pigeon - well, owl - that scott moody sent."
not only did he seem cautious, but nervous now. "did dumbledore send you?" he asked dubiously.
"i honestly have no idea who that is." memorable name like that, you'd definitely remember him. no, he seemed to be quite odd to you.
"why were you following me?"
you sighed. "i'm invesitgating the death of alastor moody."
although a sadness washed over the man's face, there was something behind his expression that said he already knew. he placed the stick back into the inner pocket of his coat. "you said you were police?" you nodded.
"so you're a muggle," he mumbled. was muggle some new slang term for cop? you didn't know and even more, you didn't care. then, a realization spread over his face.
sirius -
it shouldn't be possible - if you were a muggle, how could you see grimmauld place? because of the many peotective enchantments and ancient runes safeguarding the black house, only those who were wizards should be able to see it. yet, you had watched him walk right out the front door.
"you - you're looking into moody death?" he asked. he supposed it made sense. no one knew during the battle where they fighting high in the air - it was the heat of the moment after all. it only makes sense that muggle police got to his body first. still, he couldn't understand how you could have seen the house of black.
"his case is part of an ungoing investigation into the dozens of deaths of citizens across greater britain in the past two years." ah. so the muggles were catching on to voldemort's dirty work.
"let me guess. they were all perfectly healthy, showed no signs of deah whatsoever?" he asked. of course the muggles were going insane about it. people dying left and right without them even knowing what, or who, was causing it.
"yes, how did you -"
"just a hunch," he shrugged in response to your shocked expression.
"if you know something, you must tell me," you said rather firmly, though it seemed you were under the delusion that you had any sort of authority over him. your tone was not as strong as you may have liked.
"i'm afraid i cannot -"
"cannot what?" you barked back - now that had some bite. his interest was peaked now - what had your wand in a knot? "there are people dying. these dead bodies keep showing up with no sign as to how they died. moody aparently just fell from the sky! dead bodies don't just fall from the sky," you told him with an incredulous laugh. "now you are going to tell me everything you know about these bodies, or i swear on the bloody royal throne itself that i'll - i'll - get it out of you!"
you -
"you cannot just bring some muggle girl - if she really is a muggle - into our headquarters! are you barking mad? and don't you dare make another one of your mutt jokes or on merlin's grave i will -"
"that's quite enough, andromeda," responded a rather polite and calming male voice. there was a murmur and the same man let out a sigh. "at least let the man speak first."
"fine!"
"she saw grimmauld place, she knows about moody! she didn't bloody well seem like one of voldemort's spies, she didn't even know what 'death eater' meant. besides, what was i supposed to do? let her go blabbering to other muggles about this?"
"you could obliviate her."
"i would, if i had ever learned how. besides, it's not ethical, taking away someone's memories like that."
"this is war, black - desperate times call for desperate measures."
"now why don't you get back to shoving your greasy nose down some potions notes, snivellus, and let us grown-ups -"
"you arrogant -"
there was a sudden clammer of noise, the sound of several falling to the ground and pots and pans banging all over the place. a loud thwip! and sudden silence. "stop it! the both of you! has anyone actually bothered to question her?"
there was another round of silence before the door in front of you creaked open. the man who had pinned you up in the alley, black he had been called, looked rather dismal as he invited you into the room.
after your little speech, he requested you joined him in his house. well, you were not expecting the dustiest, blackest house you had ever seen. the entry hall was so thin, you could practically feel the walls caressing your arms. you waited in the entrance hall, outside the door to the kitchen, while he talked with his . . . friends? their conversation was all very confusing, talks of war and the like. were they also part of some secret agency? you weren't sure so you remained cautious.
"hello," you said to all those in the room, your voice trembling nervously. there were six others littered across the room. a rather dreadful looking man in the corner, with a hooked nose. he looked at you with distaste. black stood at the end of the table, his palms planted onto the table. another woman with hair almost as black as the walls, who sighed at your entrance. another man, scars barraging his face, with rather kind eyes. a man with umber skin, dressed in deep blue robes decorated with silver. and finally, a redhaired woman with a rag thrown over her shoulder, a knife in hand as she stood near a cutting board.
"hello," said the scarred-man, a warm smile making your shoulders sag a bit in . . . relief? comfort? "do you mind introducing yourself?"
you revealed your badge to all and recitind your name. "i'm a forensic analyst for the london police," you recited for the third time that day. "earlier this morning, the body of alastor moody was discovered. aside from the head injury he sustained from - well, we're not exactly sure - he seemed perfectly healthy. our medical examiner has concluded that he sustained the injury after his death. as of this morning, his body was taken by an operative of a secret government agency. there have been dozens of other bodies like this over the past couple of years. i've taken it upon myself to investigate this . . . occurence. this morning i tracked down moody's father, who sent a courier - owl - here."
"and is that everything?" black asked with an arched brow, as though he thought you were hiding something. which, ot be fair, you kind of were, but it was a small, unimportant detail and rather ridiculous really. just an irrational price of science that most likely had no relevance to the murders or perhaps a suggestion towards a broken coder in your lab - "well is it?"
you hesitated to answer but felt rather intimidated by the people surrounding you. perhaps sharing everything would be ideal, even if they thought you were barking mad. "well, erm - there's this one thing. do you know what dna is, mr. black?"
black shook his head and the others looked rather confused.
"i do," the scarred man spoke. "remus. a pleasure."
you gave him a polite nod in response. "a blood sample is taken from every body that goes through the police, and we run it through our systems and upload it to a database. moody had a gene marker in his dna - an odd one. one that shouldn't be there."
remus tilted his head, indulging you. "i've had old professors look at his results, even after I reran them. they thought something was wrong with the data. that i should run it again. but i know it wasn't wrong . . . i have the same gene marker in my dna. i'm not mad. it means something. even if others can't see it."
remus looked puzzled for a moment, but as a hazy look crossed his eyes, you could see his demeanor change rather swiftly. he straightened up, and glanced towards sirius with his mouth agape.
"what is it remus?" sirius asked with concern.
"i think that she's found a muggle's way . . . to prove the existence of magic."
sirius -
no. it couldn't be possible. it simply wasn't. if remus was right, if what he said was true, not only did this mean there were rather heinous repercussions for the wozarding world, but . . . you would be in danger.
suddenly, snape stood up from his chair rather suddenly, his eyes latched onto you. his hands still wrapped around the arms of the chairs, gripping them so tightly his knuckles were white. "everyone except sirius and the girl . . . out. now!"
the others were reluctant to leave the room, but they all filed out eventually. dumbledore trusted snape, even ordered snape to kill him, so they all would have to trust snape . . . even if sirius didn't want to.
snale turned his poisonous gaze on you. "sit down."
you followed his instructions, though cautiously, and took the closest seat next to sirius. sirius hoped that implied there was some level of trust between you two, seeing as you'll need it since he couldn't let you leave grimmauld place. "while it seems you haven't been filled in, i find that i cano that rather quickly for you. magic is real and a select number of individuals can possess it - you must be among those people, seeing as only those who are magical can see this house. there has been a wizarding war for over the past three decades, lead by a man named voldemort. the goal of him and his death eaters are to kill or otherwise enslave all those who are non-magical, also known as muggles. do you understand?"
you seemed to be flabbergasted by the assault of information and it's implications, and though you were slow to believe, you simply nodded your head. sirius placed his hand on the back of your chair, protectively, almost territorially.
"snape -"
"do shut your mouth black," snape spat. "a seer, or a prophet as muggles might know them, made a prophecy not long ago. the chosen one becomes the chosen two when eighth month approaches. for someone undesireable as any, she will be hunted down like the dog. she has discovered something no muggle should know. the power to vanquish the dark lord rests in the hand of fate - and should that hand choose to vanquish her, all hope of defeating the dark lord is lost."
"snape, what in the devil's name -"
"do not interrupt me, you -"
"no!" sirius exclaimed, slamming the goblet he was holding down on the table. wine spilled out from the cup, dripping down the rusted golden edge. "that is quite enough. i'm sure our guest has gone through enough the past day. she is famished and tired. let her rest and perhaps then we can discuss whatever nonsense you're blabbering on about."
sirius turned towards you with a softer expression and gestured for you to follow him out. you glanced back at snape, he noticed, if just for a moment. but soon enough, the two of you were in the foyer sitting across from each other.
your head was buried between the palms of your hand - it was obvious that you were distressed. "are you all right?" sirius asked softly.
"all right?" you asked, glancing up at him, your tone incredulous. "all right? no, no, i am just fine. you know, I just found out magic is real and there's some wizard war going on that no one knows about. yeah, this isn't news to me at all! you know, i get to work flying around on my little witch broom like everyone else! no i'm not all right!"
"we actually do use brooms as a model of transportation, that's not a myth," sirius told you, rather factually. you didn't seem very amused by his short educational bit. "look, i know this is overwhelming -"
"why should I even believe you?" you asked, tone rising in volume, though more out of worry than anger. "i mean something inexplicable could explain moody's death, but magic? magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"
sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.
"what the fuck."
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ghostgirl101 · 1 year
Note
hey, i really like ur writing and idk if ur working on something rn but when you can and if you want to, could you possibly write some ben drowned x reader kissing headcanons? (only if u r comfortable w/ that ofc!) ur literally my favorite writer on this app nd i literally read everything u post lol so even if u don’t do this ty anyway and have a nice day/night and take care of urself!!🩷
Kissing BEN Drowned Would Be Like This:
A/N: Sure, I'm comfortable with that; this is kind of a whole affection headcanon thing, which I've only just realised now I'm reading it over 🙃 I'm glad you like my writing, hope you enjoy this one, take care of yourself too 😀 Also, should I start making a taglist for my creepypasta posts? If you're interested, let me know.
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🎮• So. If you're expecting BEN to be an absolute gentleman who asks for your permission before giving you any form of affection, or is a bit bashful to initiate it...
🎮• Haha. Sorry.
🎮• I mean, he'd never push your boundaries or deliberately make you feel uncomfortable when you guys are being intimate somehow, but he's not gonna be shy about it. That's because it takes a bit of time for him to warm up to the idea of physically coming out of the screen and materializing himself enough for you to hug him and everything safely, without getting electrocuted or whatever.
🎮• Another factor is that after all he's been through, the idea of letting himself be that vulnerable around people is a bit of a daunting one, even if it's you, someone who he's learned to trust and get close to until it gets to this point.
🎮• So, well done to you, for earning the ultimate sign of trust from this maniac virus boy. Chances are that after you hint at wanting to be able to kiss him or something, he's gonna act all teasing and dismissive about it, but what you don't know is that the thought stays in his mind after you've finished up on the computer and gone to bed. He watches you silently from the camera on your open screen (that he's insisted you keep open for him to check in on you) and lets the idea of it grow into a nice, tempting one.
🎮• So get ready for yet another burst of an adrenaline rush as BEN gives you the scare of your life when he comes crawling out of the screen as you wake up in the morning, scattering your desk trinkets and stuff all over the place in the process. BEN has very pale blonde hair in his humanish form, almost white, and even paler skin, with empty black and red eyes, sometimes glitchy... you probably know already. BEN's eyes bleed lightly even when he's not upset, but seem to gush blood when he is. But even with the whole horrifying appearance, somehow, he manages to make himself look handsome. Don't tell him, though, or he'll tease you about it and probably won't ever forget it.
🎮• When you get over the initial shock of him literally just spawning into your room, he stays completely indifferent, if not a bit amused, because isn't this what you wanted? It's not like he bites. Unless you're into that sort of thing.
🎮• BEN is a bit apprehensive at first, because, let's be real, you're his first kiss. His life was twisted into an electronic form when he was really young, and so human touch is almost a completely foreign experience to him at this point, so he will start slow. He might flinch a couple of times, but dismisses it and tells you to go on, that he wants to get used to it. And he does.
🎮• When he does, that's when you've got his chaotic bursts of affection energy to deal with. He loves catching you off guard; you could be doing anything, working or hanging around or whatever, and then he's suddenly there behind you, and you get the tiniest of electric shocks as BEN grabs you effortlessly and refuses to let go for a solid five minutes while you fidget in his glitching but strong arms and glare at him.
🎮• The first thing you'll end up doing is hugging, because he likes the feel of being close in somebody's arms in a way he didn't think he could be before. You're warm and he's consistently cold, leading to you having to slap at his hands when he slides a hand down your back or something bratty just to make you squeal and shiver. They draw out into cuddle sessions, another thing he likes, and will ultimately go soft over. There have been many times when you've managed to fall asleep in BEN's arms, and that's one of the rare times where he'll let all his guard down and fiddle with your hair or play with your jewelry or just stare at you with a newfound feeling of protectiveness and fondness.
🎮• Now for the actual kissing part 🙃 I need to say that it really isn't a first "kiss." It's the first of many long makeout sessions, because BEN will drag it out as much as he can, and then stop abruptly when you least expect it, just to be a tease and wanting more. I see it happening when you're rambling about something or other, and he's out in the real world instead of in a screen, when you realize that your faces are inches apart, and he has a blank, frustrating unreadable look on his face.
🎮• And, before you can say anything, he'll take the plunge before he can think about it any more, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours, but waiting for you to accept it and move in too. It starts off surprisingly soft and sweet, until BEN starts getting addicted to the new, intimate sensation, and tries deepening it. Then it's less sweet and more intense, and (sorry for the cliche lol) electric. He tastes kind of appley, and his lips are cold and soft. BEN will carry on going, further and further, to the point of you ending up breathless and him pulling away with a stunned look on his face. That look morphs into his usual mischievous smirk after he recovers in a few moments, and he raises a brow in amusement at your wide eyes and swollen lips, probably with a snarky little "Not bad."
🎮• After you've done it once, you're gonna end up doing it a whole lot more. There are hardly ever any proper warnings apart from BEN gradually moving in closer and being more teasing and flirty, or on sadder days where painful memories of the past come creeping back to haunt him, a source of comfort and reminder that he's still here and has another reason to be alive and basically immortal. It's not just to drive people to insanity and infect their systems with disturbing things until they crack, or whatever other motives he has. Now, there's you, someone who he's decided he needs to look out for and be with in any possible way.
🎮• Like I said, kissing BEN Drowned usually ends in suggestive makeout sessions and the like, because that's just BEN all over. But they're one way he's discovered he can show he cares, and so he'll keep doing it if you want him to, without any hesitation. Realistically, the boy is beyond touch starved, and so that all pours into the affections he gives you. To anyone else, he's a twisted, demon-like boy who makes peoples' lives hell by getting into their heads through ways they can't control, but to you and you only, he'll let himself become more and more vulnerable, until you see that really, he still was and is Ben.
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blankwashed · 22 days
Text
Touch
*Please read this: Forgive me if you find this cliche or cringy. I wrote this when I was 14 (SORRY I WAS MISUNDERSTOOD, I wasn’t 12). It is very unsanitary to sleep right after sex. Don’t do that. Enjoy your read. It gets wild LOL
*At that time JJK didn’t exist but I currently feel that it could fit in with JJK characters so I’m rewriting it*
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Forward:
4 weeks. 4 weeks without Suguru. Did you think I could stay calm?
I’m y/n. And I need him.
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“Should I pick you up?” you asked him through a phone call.
“Nah, you don’t have to,” he said.
“but I really want to meet you, it’s been a month..” you shyly said. He smiled and agreed due to how cheesy you got.
3 more hours. It was 3 more hours till your boyfriend returns from his 4 week trip to Japan to keep an eye on some areas that have been hoarded by cursed spirits. Oh how you’ve missed him. His touch, his voice and the way he does everything. All you wanted was him.
“So, I hear Guru’s coming home today huh?” your best friend, Utahime said while wiggling her eyebrows.
“Yes, finally! Ugh, it feels like ages,” you groaned and pulled on your hair. You were sexually frustrated without his presence around you.
Utahime raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you surprise him?” she said, rubbing her palms together as her brain came up with an idea.
“Nu-uh, remember the last time you gave me an idea to seduce him? I ended up not walking for a week,” you rolled your eyes. Utahime was still eager on telling you her plan despite your unwillingness.
“Fine. Spill it,” you said and listened attentively to what the girl had to say.
You ended up agreeing with her stupid idea as you were too needy for him. It was an hour before Suguru’s arrival in the airport.
Quickly, you grabbed your handbag and car keys before leaving your home. As expected, the airport was full of his fanatics, eager to catch a glimpse of your curse spirit eating boyfriend.
After some time, you looked at the computer screen and smiled as “Japan Air — Arrived” was blinking.
Once you spotted Suguru, you ran to him and gave him a bone crushing hug. “Ooh~ someone’s happy to see me,” he kissed your forehead and grinned. You hit him in the chest in embarrassment. The both of you left quickly to the parking lot that was empty, quiet and quite dark.
As you were loading his bags into your vehicle, you were pinned against the wall. You looked up and saw none other than your boyfriend, Suguru Geto. “I miss you so much,” he whispered into your ear. “I want you so bad,” he continued. Well, at least you weren’t the only one who felt like that.
His growing bulge pressed against your knee causing you to shiver. The both of you couldn’t do it in the car park. The plan would be ruined. Sadly, you pushed him away. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“N—Not now,” you sighed and entered the car. Suguru was confused but sat in the driver’s seat.
Plan, commence.
He was driving in silence until your fingers danced on his thighs, moving up and down. Suguru looked uncomfortable and shot you a glare. You smiled and moved your fingers onto his bulge. While you pressed on it softly, it made him release a soft whimper and grunt.
“Guru…please…” you moaned into his ear and caressed his upper body. “Why are you doing this to me?” he pouted and looked away. You chuckled and pecked his lips. Soon, the car came to a halt again as the lights turned red. Without thinking, he pushed you against the door while slowly sliding his hands around your body. Just as he was about to reach for your breasts, the light turned green again as you palmed his crotch and said, “Green. Drive,”
He angrily hit the steering wheel and groaned. You decided to not tease him anymore, sitting silently in awe while looking at Suguru’s perfection. Your eyes landed on his humongous bulge that was dying from the restraint of his pants. “Will I be able to handle that later?” you thought and gulped.
“And…we’re here,” he said excitedly, already knowing what he wanted to do with you. You rolled your eyes at him and helped him bring his luggage in. As soon as the kiss started, you pushed him away. He frowned, “What now?!” he whined.
“You need to bathe. I’m not going to do anything with a person who smells bad,” you stuck your tongue out and walked out of the room.
You could hear him cursing as he entered the toilet and you chuckled. Suguru dashed into the shower like there was no tomorrow. You shook your head while thinking of part 2 of the plan.
After 5 minutes of water running, you heard moans coming form the bathroom.
“Shit, is he masturbating..?” you felt yourself getting heated up. They were getting louder and you even heard your name being mentioned a couple times. Your face was red and you drank some water before it you looked like a lobster.
His final moan was a moan of relief. You heard the water run again and your brain was too busy imagining Suguru’s self-touching session. You quickly pushed it out of your head and you hit yourself. It was time to start with part 2 of the plan.
Suguru came out with only a towel dangling around his waist, looked as if it were about to fall at any minute. His hair was wet and he didn’t look really happy. You quickly pretended to sleep, closing my eyes. Afraid of what he was about to do, you bit your lip.
You felt him get onto the bed, slowly removing the blanket. You heard a little gasp and could already feel him smirking. “You’re naked,” he said. Yes, the dumb plan was for you to be naked. You stopped pretending to be asleep and switched into Suguru’s favourite mode. Dirty.
“Since we’re both naked, don’t you think it’s easier?” you got up and smirked. “Why you naughty girl,” he smirked and pushed you down onto the bed. “I can’t move anymore,” you growled and grabbed his neck and roughly kissed him. He refused to kiss back and moved away, making you confused.
“You think that I’m going to let you go that easy?” he chuckled and grabbed both your small wrists and handcuffed them to the headboard. Hmmph. Cliche.
“Bastard,” you scowled at him and he smiled back. “Now, now. y/n, you don’t want to be punished,” he said while trailing kisses all over your face. “Aren’t you happy?” you didn’t want to look at him. “Did I make you angry?” he pouted and you nodded. “Well, congratulations,” he attacked your lips and nibbled on them.
You needed him so bad, so you just gave into him. His lips curved into a smile when you replied to his smooches. He licked your lips, asking for entrance but you didn’t want to let him in that fast. He pinched your nipple and you unwittingly moaned at the sudden contact as he slipped his tongue in. His tongue explored your mouth swiftly, licking every spot it could find.
He tied his tongue wit yours and the both of you didn’t bother to fight for dominance, already knowing who would win. You softly sucked on his tongue and he moaned, imagining it was being done to his cock. He threw away the towel he had around his waist. You sighed at how big it already had grown, again.
He kneeled, legs parted above your face. You couldn’t help but lick your lips thinking of what you could do to him. “Suck, now,” he commanded as he let the precum drip onto your lips. You stuck your tongue out and pressed it on his tip. “Stop teasing for once, damnit!” he slammed his fist against the wall. Oops. My bad.
You quickly engulfed his length into your tiny mouth and licked him from bottom to top. Your teeth grazed at the skin before taking him whole again. Slowly, you sucked him like how you did with your tongue. “Faster…” he said while clutching your hair. You sped up and his moans got louder. He was thrusting into your mouth till you were gagging. “Mmmph…” you moaned and it sent vibrations to his almost-coming cock. He tugged on your hair harder, you sense he was about to come.
He finally came after thrusting more into your throat. You released his cock with a pop. The sticky white substance was in your mouth and usually you don’t swallow but…”Swallow,” he held your cheeks and demanded. Suguru, what go into you? You painfully swallowed everything but honestly, it didn’t taste as bad as you expected. “I hate you…” you mumbled and it seemed like he softened.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised and gave you a soft kiss. “Not releasing you though,” he laughed and you kicked him with your legs. “Meanie!”
He shushed you by kissing your neck oh so lightly, but leaving marks all over. He licked your sensitive patch and continued sucking till he was satisfied. “You’re mine forever,” he declared and squeezed both of breasts together.
“Ahh, Guru-ah….” you moaned softly. “Don’t keep it in, hun,” he massaged them as if they were dough and made you a moaning mess. Suddenly, his mouth took in your right nipple. His warm mouth and your cold skim, it was heaven. He sucked on your nipple hard, as if he was a baby. He made sure to leave at least a mark before moving on to the left breast. He blew cold air on them making you shiver.
He kissed your stomach before reaching your core. He teased you by kissing sensitive spots and occasionally licking them. His fingers played with your clit, rolling it between his fingers making you almost reach your climax but he would pull his fingers away. You groaned at the loss of contact and replaced it with his tongue. While exploring your wet cavern, you yelled while he thrusted his tongue quickly reaching in deep. “Suguru!” you yelled as you came.
He gladly licked you clean and you throbbed from the tongue fuck session. You stared at his abs, wanting to touch them badly. Your sad eyes gave Suguru a clue about what you wanted to do, making him unlock the cuffs.
Immediately, your hands roamed around his body and while feeling his abs, you could feel yourself getting wet again. “Touch me more,” he moaned and you granted his wish, giving his cock a squeeze.
“I need you,” you mumbled and he switched positions. “What’s that?” he pretended not to hear. “I want you now!” you shouted. “Not dirty enough~” he said in a sing-song voice. “I WANT YOU IN ME, MAKING ME FEEL SO GOOD THAT I—” you were cut off by him finally entering you.
You shouted at the pain and tears rolled out of your eyes. He wiped them with his thumb and he pecked your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Y-Yes…you can move now,”
During the start, he thrusted into you at a slow speed, waiting for you to familiarise yourself with his length. When you bucked your hips back at him, he took it as a sign that he could go faster. With that, he started thrusting as fast as he could. The pleasure was too much for you to handle and you gripped the bed sheets until they tore. “Harder!” you yelled, following with a moan.
The room was filled with moans by the both of you. “Y-You’re so tight…” he held onto your arms for support. “4…weeks…can do….wonders….” you managed to squeak out. “S-Suguru…” it was your last moan before reaching your peak. Your vision was blurry and all you could do was feel an ultimate pleasure that you never want to stop.
Suguru fell on you after cumming into your pussy, exhausted and tired. “I love you so much,” he pecked your cheek. “How much?” I asked while grinning, my eyelids almost closing. It’s tiring having sex. “As much as the speed of me as I was fucking you,” he stuck his tongue out. “I’m in love for you for a weird reason then, you creep,” you rolled your eyes and brought a blanket over the both of you. “I love your touch,” he said in a weary voice and drifted off to sleep.
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so these are the two fics i wrote when i was 14 (sorry for the confusion).
Sort of a prequel here but it’s satoru.
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libraford · 9 months
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The good news is that he found a different job and next week is his last week and I only have to work with him 2 more times and only one of those times will I be alone.
Tech talk and rant below.
But in my opinion, we should have fired him earlier on because two weeks into the season he was unclear of what any of the equipment apart from the camera actually did.
The camera takes the picture.
The lights light the subject.
The computer matches the subject to the picture.
The transmitter connects the camera to the lights wirelessly, so that when you take the picture the lights flash automatically.
The sync cord connects the camera to the computer so that the image is displayed on the screen.
The skyport connects the lights to the computer so that they automatically adjust.
Its just all the electronics going through a circular systems check to make sure they are firing properly and matching it up against our white balance test. I know it sounds complicated, but its literally just a circle.
I understand that this can be complicated for someone who is used to 'click button, get picture.' But having the same problems over and over again because he doesn't understand the proper procedure and doesn't look at the checklist that he swears he never received even though I gave him my laminated copy and having to fix all of the problems that are literally because he didn't respect me enough to listen when I explained it to him cuts into the time that could be spent getting ready.
Now we are a month and a half in and on Tuesday he asked me what the skyport does.
If your skyport fails, you have to adjust your lights manually.
Therefore... skyport makes the computer talk to your lights.
And every time something fails, he says 'this would be so much easier without computers' and I'm like. Fine. Okay? Try to match 900 student names to photos without a computerized indexing system. Try getting the light to be consistent without a startup exposure test.
No sense of troubleshooting, which isn't very difficult. If something isn't right, restart the computer and try again. If you get a repeat of the problem, call Freddie from IT. But usually, a reboot fixes most problems.
But then he started breaking the rules, and in a very intentional way. Like at first it was 'oh I didn't know I wasn't supposed to show them the photo' even though we went over this in training. Then it was 'well, I'm not supposed to show you the photo but if you come back here while I'm adjusting my lights I can't stop you.'
At first it was 'hey, Jay, remember what Freddie said about the no-touch policy during training? I know you want to make the kids like you, but its very unprofessional to ask them for a high five, especially since these schools are very strict about their own no-touch policies and also did we not just go through a wholeass pandemic?'
And now students are complaining about him physically adjusting their posture with his hands.
Like... I don't mind bending the rules a little. But before you can bend the rules, you have to understand why the rules are there, so that when they are bent there is a good reason. The rule about showing photos is there to make workflow consistent. The no touch rule is for the safety of ourselves and the students.
But breaking the rules constantly just out of disrespect means that I can't bend them myself. I have to be a hardass. I hate being a hardass. But if I'm not a hardass and someone tells me that he's violating our no-touch policy, the company gets in deep trouble.
Not that he'll ever... ever follow my advice on the subject because as previously mentioned- he respects no one here. He has 15 years experience as a photographer and is too good for this place. Why would he listen to someone under 40 with three years experience dealing with schools?
His pictures aren't even very good. They're average.
Just two more jobs with him and then he's off to do something else and gods I hope he's better at that than he is a school photographer.
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I always find the 'semiotics' or symbolic language of media interesting from an evolutionary perspective. Recently online there was a bit of a discussion about run cycles in animation; a guide to running written by Hayao Miyazaki from back in 1980 for which we had the text due to its inclusion in collected-writings book Starting Point has been missing its original accompanying visuals for all this time. Someone (Rebekah Machemer) found and scanned those drawings so now we have the complete work:
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Very cool stuff, and really great to recover any lost production media like this. In the essay itself Miyazaki gets a bit philosophical - why care about running animation at all?
Above all what is most important is what one wants to express through the act of running…Men of strong resolve, who are wearing heavy armor and carrying swords, should run in a way that weak extras cannot. The running of surging masses on fire with anger, the running of a child doing his best to hold back tears until he reaches his house, the running of a heroine who has forsaken everything but the desire to flee—being able to show wonderful ways of running, running that expresses the very act of living, the pulse of life, across the screen would give me enormous delight. I dream of someday coming across a work that requires that kind of running.
On the one hand this all resonates; make the character visual, express their identity through motion, etc. On the other hand...girl who runs like this? I don't run, like, at all! It's not a common occurence in my everyday life to see a single person running, and if I do it is 99% of the time someone working out. I am pretty sure when I do run its way less an expression of my Forsaken Herione vibes and instead an expression of my 12-hours-a-day-on-a-computer workout routine.
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-How you think you look running
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-How you actually look running
What I am not saying here is that Miyazaki is wrong or anything to care about running. Instead I am saying that when he discusses how beautiful the act-of-running is, that is only partially coming from observing reality; it primarily comes from animation as a medium. Animation's value-add is the art-in-motion, you want the screen to be expressing itself to the audience through movement. You as an audience member want to see the animator themselves express their own aesthetic to you through that movement. There are a million ways to make that happen but running is one of the strongest; its character focused, universally applicable, common *enough* that you know what it looks like, you can make it diegetic to a climax if the plot demands it, etc. It makes sense for animation to utilize it, and it does - more than just animation, film all over does! It's a universally common symbol in the language of film with decades of meaning built into it.
But that meaning does not first come from real life, it comes from those demands of film-as-a-medium. In all likelihood no one has ever emoted a climactic meaning to you while running, or after running, you don't have a frame of reference for that. When you, as a viewer, are emotionally moved by the act of running, you feel that because film as a medium taught you to feel that. Compare it to how animation/film often focuses on the eyes and mouth for expressing emotion - that is not an invention of film, that is how real human beings communicate, when talking to a person you focus primarily on their eyes and mouth. The semiotics of film's language around eyes is built primarily from real life, which is much less true for running.
What is cool is how much of a semiotics of running animation has been built up given its origin within the demands of the medium. Miyazaki had a hot take and a desire to see artists push the craft as early as 1980; since then I can think of hundreds of running cycles artists have put their own touch on. I think of these as real Artist moments - it is something that the craft leads you to that you become obsessed with perfecting, existing for its own sake, something that interplays between observation and pure creativity. I can see these scenes now outside their own story, as the use and evolution of language. Which is neat!
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Hibiki Himura is a mute robot boy with kinda-sorta psychic powers who woke up on New Year’s Day 2000 in a dumpster with his memory completely wiped. Ever since, he has taken it upon himself to protect the humans of Acid City, NJ from violent rogue robots affected by the Y2K bug, and by doing so prove he is useful enough to live. He is way in over his head.
wikidot article [slightly outdated]
his tag on my artblog
his series' tag on my main
his artfight page
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Hibiki is the main protgonist of Cyber Mind Year 2000 [CMY2K]. He is one of many [many many many] androids produced by the Halosoft Electronics Corporation, but seeing as Halosoft doesn’t mass-produce child robots, it can be easily deduced he’s a one-of-a-kind custom-order model; his original primary function, before he decided to take the fate of humanity into his own hands, is housekeeping and cleaning.He has a bad habit of thinking in black and white binaries, especially when it comes to morality (ESPECIALLY regarding the Three Laws of Robotics) and an even worse habit of tying his own life’s worth to how good of a robot he is and wracking himself with extremely disproportionate guilt over his own perceived moral goodness, hence the responsibility of protecting an entire city (and, in his mind, all of humanity) being taken on by a small child. He WANTS to be a pacifist (especially under the First Law; a robot must not harm a human nor through inaction allow a human to come to harm) and to him, all acts of violence towards humans are equal in severity, but unfortunately for him, real life isn’t that simple and sometimes someone has to get hurt to protect others. Reluctantly, he fights for the sake of defending mankind–even if he really would prefer to just talk things out.
Unluckily for him, talking things out literally is not an option; Hibiki is mute, so his options for communication are limited. Luckily, his kinda-sorta psychic powers are a big help as an alternative method of talking: Interfacing is a standard feature for Halosoft androids–by default, it functions as a sort of touch-based telepathy between technology and allows androids to transfer messages or even control other less-intelligent electronics simply by making and maintaining physical contact. Hibiki generally uses this to talk to others, either by touching another android to project what he wants to say into their head, or by touching a computer so he can display his dialogue on its screen to whoever is looking, but he often takes it a few steps further; Hibiki doesn’t have to touch an electronic directly in order to interface with it, he just has to make contact with something on the same network or connection. Not only that, but Hibiki can also deep-interface with other androids, diving into their minds without admin access and basically pulling a Psychonauts on them. This enables him to free other robots from mind control, see their memories, and, if necessary, beat their asses on a psychological scale. Besides this, he also has minor influence over nearby electronic signals when particularly emotionally affected and has been known to blow out lightbulbs with a panic attack.
Besides the kinda-sorta psychic computer powers, Hibiki also has built-in Astro Boy type jet boots, and the big oversized extra-long sleeves of his jacket can transform into arm cannons. He can overclock himself for extra power at the VERY BIG RISK of causing damage to himself, but he tends to do this pretty often because he both does not think highly enough of himself to prioritize his own wellbeing (especially where the Third Law of Robotics is concerned; a robot must only protect its own existence when doing so wouldn’t violate the First or Second Laws, so he prioritizes the safety and orders of others over taking care of himself), and he’s very small, weak, and fragile, so he kinda needs the extra power in most fights. When he does this, he’s DAMN OVERPOWERED but in a cool fun way that rules for him. Otherwise, when he’s just relying on his own natural abilities, his fighting style mostly consists of running and dodging very fast and being a very hard to hit target. His charging cable is retractable and kinda resembles a tail.
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Personality-wise, Hibiki is damn earnest. He’s nothing if not compassionate, albeit stubborn and often blunt without meaning to. He’s gullible and tends to trust others too easily if they display even a shred of kindness to him, but if they give even an inkling of evidence they are even slightly “evil” in his eyes, he’ll feel betrayed and it’ll be very goddamn difficult to regain his trust after that. He doesn’t really emote all that much, but he’s very easily emotionally affected by things, and he is especially a huge crybaby; crying is often his default response to any particularly strong emotion, especially since his coolant tanks are busted so it tends to just leak out of his tear ducts. He’s easy to manipulate, especially through reverse psychology or by making him think he’s being underestimated or patronized, in which case he’ll stubbornly try to prove himself. People tend to underestimate and dismiss him all the damn time for a variety of reasons and he is so sick of it. Most of the time though, he’s a skittish, frantic, jumpy bundle of nerves.Hibiki is super autistic about insects, especially beetles, especially rhinoceros beetles. They are his favorite thing in the world and when presented with an opportunity to do so, he will absolutely infodump about them–and then worry he’s being annoying or wasting your time or boring you and shut himself up, but he really just wants to talk about how much he loves bugs. On the flip side, he is for no good goddamn reason absolutely terrified of repairs and maintenance; it’s the same type of thing as a kid being scared to go to the doctor. He’s extremely squeamish about tech gore (he’d think a modern smartphone with a cracked screen is gory) and would rather just duct tape himself up than let anybody come at him with a screwdriver.
That said, the only thing that bothers him about human blood and gore is the thought of a human getting hurt, and in that case he’s far more likely to scold them for being reckless and letting themself get hurt than freak out over how disturbing it is. He has been called “scary good” at first aid despite not being a medical robot; he always keeps a suspiciously well-stocked first aid kit in his backpack [as well as juice and snacks for humans who might be hungry or close to fainting] and is always enthusiastic to get to play field medic when someone is hurt. He thinks doctors and nurses for humans are some of the most admirable people on the planet, but mechanics and engineers and basically anyone who works with computers or machines is scary and not to be trusted. Another thing he hates is sleep, mostly due to constant nightmares; he absolutely refuses to go into sleep mode to recharge and will either stay online the whole time he’s plugged in or just use energy drinks and recharging candy designed specifically for androids.
Currently, following the events of the [as of yet non-existent] pilot episode, Hibiki lives in an abandoned warehouse with its two squatters; Tex Tulsa, a stern yet fatherly construction android who doesn’t seem to have a lot of work to do lately, and Cain Cohen, a standoffish and rude human runaway from the sticks who came to the city with nothing but a baseball bat, skateboard, and intention to live a life he can be happy with. They’re the closest thing to a family Hibiki has.
his spotify playlist
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cevans-is-classic · 2 years
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Deserving
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18+ only, please. Sexual content, language, unprotected sex
You all know this was going to happen. This man is the loml and I couldn't leave this idea alone.
My Masterlist and My Chris list
“You can stop looking at me.” The computer lit up his face, blue light reflecting in his eyes and the reading glasses he wore tipped on his nose. His right hand tapped the pen he held against a notepad. 
You leaned closer. 
Chris raised a brow but continued looking at the screen. 
You tilted your head and squint your eyes at him. 
His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching before relaxing, and his shoulders loosening. His left hand clicked the mouse, eyes moving across the page he was on. 
Your hand creeped across the table, touched the lid of the laptop and started pushing it closed. 
Chris sighed. “May I help you?”
“Will anything important disappear if I close this?” 
“Yes.” 
The laptop closed, your finger tapping one, two, three over the apple logo. 
Chris closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose, then let it out in a long stream until he lifted his head to look back at you. “Shouldn’t you be at work? Bathing someone? Aggravating anybody that’s not me?” 
“Nope. Although-” 
He rubbed a hand over his beard with a heavy sigh. “What?”
Your lips quirked. “I’m trying to figure something out.” 
Another heavy sigh, the glasses appeared. He let the sound out and leaned back in his chair. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna say this once again — you give me heartburn.” 
Laughter chokes you as you drop your head onto the table and try to breathe without snorting. Chris had looked painfully serious, a look that told you he knew you were on your bullshit and would not play this game with you. 
Too bad he let a smile quirk the edge of his lips. 
“Subjectively speaking-” Immediately Chris groaned, “Subjectively speaking. I know what they’re talking about. I see it every day, get to critique it every night and am even allowed to view the total package — now and then.” You waggled your eyebrows. 
Not impressed it seems. 
“Is this going somewhere?” 
You grinned, all teeth with a wiggle of your fingers towards him, “Sexiest Man Alive, Baby, how does it make you feel? That hundreds and thousands of people think you, Christopher Evans, are the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’?” 
One brow went up, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging under the long sleeve he wore, and the chair made a creaking sound as his weight settled in it. 
A thrill slithered down your spine. The look in his eyes meant he was going to play this game with you. You’ve activated his own bullshit button, and it was about to be a good one — you hoped. 
One hand moved to point in your direction, “First, we both know you still write fanfiction about me. I knew that hundreds of thousands of people out there had particular thoughts about me. You make that clear at least twice a month.” 
You open your mouth to retort. 
“Neh-” He tilted his head, fingers making a zipper motion before he pointed at you again. You smiled. 
“Second, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t make any comments on this aside from,” He grinned wickedly at you, “when you screamed my name while I showed you why I got ‘Sexiest Man Alive’.” 
A tendril of adrenaline morphed into desire, burning hot in your gut. Chris was grinning now, blue eyes flashing when you lean back in your own chair and tap your chin. 
Okay, he had a point. When you got to his house, the day after they announced it, Chris barred you from saying anything about it. He said he wanted to let it settle in his mind first and he needed to get through the photoshoot before he felt comfortable enough to joke about it. 
That lasted about twenty minutes. You’d kissed him with the sauce spoon still in his hand and jumped onto the counter when he backed you into it.
Of course, you had to celebrate it. Show him he’s worthy of the title, let him bend you over his couch and cry out that no one else gets to have him. That everyone can agree he deserved it, but you’re the one who gets to show it. 
(Downfall of him caving — you lost twenty bucks to Scott . You’d been egotistical and said a week, Scott said 5 minutes.)
(You met in the middle.)
(Kind of.)
Taking a deep breath, keeping your eyes on Chris, you rose from your chair and walked around the table. He didn’t hesitate to push his chair back and open his arms to let you crawl into his lap. 
Your arms hooked around his neck, your thighs on either side of his with his hands around your waist, keeping you from tipping as you leaned into his hold.
“Maybe,” He blinked, “I need to be reminded why you deserve the title.” 
You squealed when Chris stood up, his hands going from your back to your thighs to keep you in place as he walked through the house.
He snickered when you tightened around him, looking at the ground in shock — not fear. Why would this scare you? What is he going to do, drop you? (Again) — Chris reached the bedroom in record time. Plopping you on the bed in ahuff, then climbing over you, tugging you down and up to press against him. 
“Deal.” 
You couldn’t take a deep enough breath to keep your head from spinning when he drew you in for a kiss, his mouth opening over yours and tongue tracing to the curve of your bottom lip, behind your teeth, licking away the moans that stumbled out of you. 
Oh yeah, okay, you should be on your bullshit more often. 
Both of you groped and grabbed at each other, hands shifting clothes until Chris’s shirt was gone and he’d unbuttoned yours and pulled it off your shoulders. 
He pulled away to help you toss it aside, teeth flashing in a grin when he saw your top underneath. “I hate this thing.” 
You huffed, “I know.”
He kissed your neck, teeth nipping at your jaw, the line of your throat, over your collarbone and down, down, down until he could slip his head underneath your ‘Baby Daddy’ shirt. He skimmed bites across your stomach, making you gasp and twist beneath him. 
“Take it off.” Chris sucked the spot over your hip, biting at it until you gasped and pulled the top over your head. 
“Aggressive.” 
Another flash of blue eyes, “You bet, Baby.” He went back to work, moving up over your ribs, licking the underside of your chest before taking a nipple into his mouth and tweaking the other one with his hand. 
“Shit.” Sparks set off under your skin, your knee knocked into his when you jumped. A moan tumbled out, your mouth dropping open with it. Fuck, he liked to nip and suck you, rolling the opposite bud between his fingers before switching back and forth until you were a squirming mess under him, gripping his hair holding him in place until it felt like you’d stopped breathing. 
Alright, okay, point one for Evans. 
“Hmm,” He pulled off, “I love it when you do that.” 
“What?” Chris moved his head when you nudged under his chin, breathing warm against his neck as you undo his pants, pulled his zipper down and pushed at his pants until you could slide them down his thigh with your feet. “Smother you?” 
He winked, “Exactly.” 
Your pants came off next, Chris’s erection poking out the top of his boxer briefs. He rolled his hips to grind himself against you, your underwear rubbing into your warmth. The friction had both of you groaning, moving together as you breathed into each other’s mouth. 
Chris slipped a hand into your underwear, fingers spreading you, using your slick to circle your clit starting a fire down your thighs. 
“Ah fuck,” You bit his lip, tugged it, making him jerk over you and slide two fingers inside, “Yes. Okay.” 
Back and forth, he slid his cock along your inner thigh, fingers moving in and out, thumb circling, your mouths moved together as your nails followed the curve of his back down to the waist of his briefs and slid under to hold on to his ass. 
“Do me a favor?” You gasp, your heart thundering. 
“Yeah?” He slipped a third finger in letting you ride them, plunging them in and out and in with each snap of your hips. 
“Take your damn underwear off.” 
“Gladly.”
You both scrambled to pull the rest of your clothing off, crashing together again, your hands shoving at Chris’s chest to push him down letting you crawl over him and sink his length into you. 
“Holy fuck-”
“God damn-”
Neither of you paused, your skin on fire and aching for him to put it out. Chris groaned, knocking his head back and forward, his eyes opening and closing as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to watch you or feel you. 
This — right here — no one could label this with a title of any kind. The roll of your hips, the snap of his beneath you, the way his fingers held your thighs, your waist, your ass to keep you moving over him. How it felt to lean back to let him fuck up into you and listen to the noises he made when he slipped into the moment. 
Chris was the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ for many reasons, but this was one that only you got to know.  
“Chris-” You jerked forward, his knees bending, thighs pushing you closer to him. “Please-” it was right there. The edge was in sight and if he could keep you in place as you rode him then- then- oh- 
He lifted.
“Dude-” 
Chris laughed, buried his face in your neck and licked at your skin, “I’m going to kill you - why in the world-” 
Strong hands manhandled you to your knees, flipping you over, then back, “Come here.” He growled pulling into him his right arm wrapping around your middle and the left guiding your hips until you were flush against his chest and seated on his cock. 
“Ah fuck.” Your head fell back onto his shoulder. Chris wastes no time in rubbing over your clit, catching the bundle of nerves again and again as he uses the leverage of holding your hip to rock you over his cock. 
“Sexiest Man Alive,” He grunts, “How does it feel to know you have the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ wanting you to come on his cock?” Your thighs are burning, blood rushing in your ears, knees locking as pressure builds inside you. 
“Chris-”
“Come on, Baby, show me how deserving I am of the title.” 
“You do.” Your hand covers his, moving it faster over you letting him focus on meeting your hips with his, “You so fucking do-“ 
You snap, “Oh holy fucking shit yes-” Chris keeps going, continues to roll your hips over him but moves his hands away from your clit when you twitch Your vision is fuzzy, white noise drowning out whatever he’s saying behind you. The only thing you could focus on that wasn’t the static running through your veins was Chris’s hold on you.
Electricity crackled through you, sweat collecting between your bodies. Chris held on tighter, squeezing you, opening your legs more to gain leverage and deepen his thrusts. 
Your thighs tightened. “Shit-” You threw a hand up, gripping the hair on the back of his head to jerk his face to meet yours in a messy, teeth cracking kiss. You didn’t move, wouldn’t dare to shift or slide out of place as your knees go fuzzy and liquid heat collects in your groin until- “Fuck. Fuck, yes- Holy shit.” 
Chris was grinning, huffing out laughter as your body went pliant. 
“That’s,” Gasp, “Fucking right.” Another gasp followed by a drawn-out groan. 
“Unbend your legs.” The movement jostled you, but let you lean forward and grip his calves. He cursed, his thighs tightening, hands holding onto your hips, tilting you up and forward until he could bounce you on him. 
“If they could see the view I got,” One of his hands came down to knead at your ass, “They’d know what the sexiest thing alive is.”
You didn’t have time to plan a response before a choked groan broke from his chest and his hips stuttered in movement. 
One breath, two breaths, three then Chris grunted a laugh — moving to help you off his lap and let both of you splay across the bed. Chris’s feet pressed into the headboard and you’d twisted to rest your head on his thigh and dangle your feet over the edge. 
His come was cooling on the inside of your own thighs. His heart was beating rapidly where your hand had dropped on his chest. 
He tangled his fingers with yours. “Did I state my case well enough?”
“Motion approved or whatever.” You smack your hand against his chest, squeezing his fingers. 
Chris ran his other hand over your hair. “I had an email I needed to send.” 
“Tell them you’re indisposed.” 
“Indisposed.” He kissed your fingertips. “An important discussion needed to be had.”
You turned onto your side, taking your hand back and using it as leverage to roll onto your front and rest your chin on his stomach. “Many details needed to be reviewed, ideas hashed out — if you will.” 
Chris turned his head to look down at you. “I’ll just say something came up.” 
An arched brow and one pointed look at his crotch had him shoving at you with a laugh. Chris followed your movements as you rolled away, tangling your legs together, pulling you into his arms and resting both of you on the pillows. 
“It’s a silly award.” You kissed his nose, “But you deserved it.” 
Chris kissed your nose and closed his eyes."I deserve a nap." 
“Its ten am.” 
“You’re the one who wanted to prove a point. That kind of rigorous activity takes a lot out of a man.” 
Deserving your ass. He deserves to get his nipple pinched.
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