#my brainrot now in ao3 form

[nymphoheretic]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Plaything •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Synopsis: You've been caught in his trap. And now you're his little plaything. The Upper Moon 4, Hantengu, more so you belong to the 4 clones.

Warnings : smut, gangbang with Hantengu clones, oral(male and female receiving), anal, Double Penetration , degradation, biting, marking, Electroplay, Spit as lube Rough sex , cervix fucking, Monsterfucking , wing play, praise, Blood Kink, creampie, finger sucking, squirting (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count : 4.6k

Pairing : Hantengu (all four clones) x fem!slayer!reader

A/N: I have no words for this. It's basically straight porn and I know tumblr is gonna slap a label on it. So, check it out on my AO3(same name). I'll link it in my bio/pinned post.

Special thanks to @bleuboyfriend for beta reading it for me! You're amazing Luke!!

Tags: @bakugosbratx (cause I'd get yelled at if I didn't) @herohibiscus (karaku brainrot partner in crime) @linpunny (monsterfucker bestie) @fushisslut (have your lawyer call mine) @sirenspider @unknownspecies @sailewhoremoon @potofstewie @medusashima @sweetblueworm @gh0stfac3-w1f3y @zoroarkstar @potatoboiasta @rav3enmuse @gingerspicelattemix @redsharksimp @shadowvessel172 @hiitogata @iamthepaninpanic @yandere-wishes @tommyinnit-kinnie @maddyybtw @rani-02 @hulahoopingpro @justsomereaderwholikesanime @dedukiddu @shockinglysubmissive @cherryblossomsenpai @cherry1hearts @violxtbxbyy @jeschalynn @jazzthatonewriterchick @comatosebunny09 @ilovetwodmen @cockadodalcuck @nightimewalk-chan @enchantedforest-network

You're not sure how it even happened. You were summoned to slay a demon that had been spotted in a village; only to find a cowardly little imp like Demon that was scared of its own shadow. Cutting its head off wasn't too difficult, but the result was devastating for you. The demon split into four clones of itself. Each one with a different demon blood art. 

They cornered you and the green one, Karaku found you to be so very interesting. His clawed hand reached out and caressed your cheek before tipping your chin back. His tongue – marked with the Kanji "pleasure" – slipped past his lips and touched your lips, tasting them. A deep purr like growl rumbled in his chest as he speaks to his counterparts.

"It's been so long since we've been separated and had a little plaything. We deserve to have some fun, right, Sekido?"

His green Kanji branded eyes flickering down to your torn top – the swell of your breasts inviting him as his mouth watered when he could hear your heart pounding beneath your ribcage. Your eyes dart from him to his three other counterparts. His fingers tilt your gaze back to his as he tilts his head down towards yours. “Ne, Sekido, can we have some fun with this pretty little slayer? Please?”

Sekido grits his fangs, his red Kanji branded eyes narrowing as he taps his staff on the ground, bolts of lightning sparking from underneath. His gaze cuts to your eyes and he can smell the fear that emits from you – saturating the air around them in its scent. He growls out, voice guttural and deep. “Only if Aizetsu and Urogi agree.”

Karaku grabs you in his claws and sits you down in his lap, easily pinning you against his chest  as he spreads your legs. One hand cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples as the other dug its palm into your core, eliciting a moan from you. The sound was like heaven to his ears. Karaku’s tongue touches the shell of your ear before his fangs nip at it playfully. “Aizestu, Urogi, c’mon say yes. I wanna play with our new toy.”

“Get your hands off of m–” Your words die off in a moan when he rubbed two sharp clawed fingers over the damp spot forming over your panties.

“Hmmm, little plaything. You were saying?” He ground his fingers harder against the clothed little pearl of nerves, making you squeal out. “Just look at my counterparts. Hard just from watching us. You all should join. If not, I’m still going to have fun.”

Urogi’s control finally snapped as a feral grin spreads over his lips when your musky scent permeates his senses. His own tongue – marked with the Kanji “Joy" – flicks out of his mouth as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Fuck, she’s sexy. And we get to have fun with her. Don’t mind if I do.” When Karaku ripped your panties off and tossed them to the side, Urogi wasted no time diving his face between your thighs, his tongue curling through your sticky folds.

You arched your back, pressing your ass back against the other demon’s crotch, involuntarily grinding against his hard cock as the one with golden eyes feasts upon your center. It was ironic that the one with “pleasure” on his tongue was not the one between your thighs. You whimpered when Urogi’s tongue curled through your cunt, slurping messily as he sucked on your clit.

Aizetsu whimpered softly as his cock twitched against his thigh, rising to attention. He watched as his two more confident counterparts have their fun with the pretty slayer. “Karaku.” He said finally, his voice soft almost timid. “I think you should be the one eating her while Urogi fucks her throat.” His face flushed as he palmed himself through his pants. “And Sekido should use his blood demon art to shock her into submission as she takes his cock first.” 

Karaku grinned. “That’s a great idea, Aizetsu!” He laid down on the ground, relaxing against the cool floor as his hair fanned out underneath him. “But I think I’d rather her ride my face while Urogi fucks hers.” Easily holding down your hips, he grabbed you and pulled you away from Urogi’s tongue, a string of slick mixed saliva connecting you to the avian-like demon.

Urogi pouted at having his fun ruined, but grinned at Aizetsu’s words. The little shy bastard has some good ideas in that sorrowful mind. He cackled as he fumbled with the tie that held his pants together as Karaku settled you over his awaiting mouth. His talons caressed your face, thumb wiping at the tear that threatened to fall. “You’re going to be a good little cocksleeve for us, right?”

Sekido growled at the softer, more timid counterpart as he tapped his staff against the ground once more. “What utter foolishness. Like I want to stick my cock in that little whore’s body.” But his hard cock betrayed his angry words as he listened to your saccharine moans while his counterparts had their way with you. His narrowed red eyes watched as your throat bulged as Urogi slid his cock in deep, the yellow-eyed demon giggling as you tapped his thigh.

Growling once more, he dropped to his knees, pulling his dick out of his pants and fisted it roughly. His fangs grit as his claws of his other hand found your hair and yanked your head back to force you to meet his eyes. “You should feel lucky that I’m willing to fuck a needy bitch like you.” His palm smacked against the meat of your ass, making your hips buck against Karaku’s eager tongue and forcing more of Urogi’s cock down your throat.

You let out a whimper around the thick girth on your tongue as you feel Karaku dig his claws in your hips, pulling you even further down onto his mouth. He slurped so noisily at your pussy as his tongue dug orgasm after orgasm out of you. You lost count. Your moans were muffled by Urogi as he thrust into your mouth without abandon. Another pathetic sounding moan vibrated in your chest when you feel Sekido’s claws dig into the fat of your ass and spread your cheeks.

Shame filled your body as your eyes darted around, searching for someone to help you, but they only found Aizetsu, who was calmly stroking his cock, pre leaking – oozing from the tip as his face flushed with a blush. 

Aizetsu covered his face with his hand as he watched his counterparts. His voice was soft as he directed them on what to do. “Urogi, wrap your hand around her throat, choke her until she’s able to take all of your cock down her slutty little mouth. She doesn't get th breath if she doesn't. Kakaru suck on her clit more while using your tongue to fuck her hole. Sekido...” He pauses, his eyes darkening with desire as he works his hand over his cock faster. “Prep her ass for your cock.”

Your eyes widened when Aizetsu told the red-eyed demon what to do. You try to shake your head, but Urogi had wrapped his talon around your neck, his hips snapping faster as he fucks more of his cock down your throat.

“Now, pretty little plaything. It's not nice to be distracted. Eyes on me.” He grins as he tightens his hand around your neck, relishing in the choke-like moans that vibrated around his length. When you shift those big teary eyes back to his, his tongue fell from his mouth as he curled it in the air. “That’s the fucking look! Cry more, slayer!”

You could feel Sekido’s sharp claws dig into your flesh as he lowered his face between your thighs, his tongue slipping out to trace the ring of your puckered little hole. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. Sekido’s tongue was hot – hotter than Karaku’s. It felt like currents of electricity were shooking up and down your spine. 

Karaku flicks your clit, scraping it with his fangs as his fingers slip over your clenching hole. He lifts you off his face for a moment to stare up at your face. “Aww, is the pretty little slayer crying?” He cooed condescendingly, “Such a good girl you are.” His praise sounded fake as he pushed his fingers past the first ring of muscles of your dripping pussy. “Oh? Maybe I should call you a slut? Or our little cocksleeve whose only purpose is to be fucked by four demon cocks?”

Moaning around Urogi’s cock at Karaku’s filthy words, words that sounded like they were dipped in honey to your hazy mind. His fingers thrust up into you twisting and turning until they found that spot that made your body twitch and wreath above him. “That's the spot. Come on, let go for me. Cum on my tongue. I take pleasure in it.” Karaku mocked as he licks your cunt with the flat of his tattooed tongue.

“Shit, Karaku. Her throat tightened up when you did that.” Urogi’s cock twitches on your tongue as his talons tangle in your hair, pulling you even further down on his girth. “Fuck, gonna cum down this nasty throat. That what you want? My cum painting that greedy mouth of yours?” His smile was beyond feral as the talon around your neck tightens to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Sekido growled as you ignored him in favor of his counterparts. His tongue circled the flesh of your asshole before pushing past that tight ring and wiggling inside. “Don’t fucking forget about me, nasty bitch.” He used his blood demon art to send streaks of lightning through your body, making you convulse and shake – the feeling making your body release your juices on Karaku’s tongue.

“Did I fucking say you could cum, dirty slut?” Sekido removed his tongue, fangs biting deeply into the roundness of your cheeks, nails digging into your flesh. He relishes in the fact that you had to pull away from Urogi to scream out from the painful pleasure of his abuse of your ass. Your blood trickled down his throat and he moaned a little at the taste of it. It was sweet – a potent elixir that coats his tongue. “Fucking delicious.” 

Aizetsu whimpered as he stroked his cock, his hand still covering his blushing face. His balls felt heavy as his length twitched against his palm, precum dribbling down the leaky tip. He was trying his best to remain calm, telling them how to please you. Aizetsu was shy, but even he had a limit on how much he could take – and he was approaching it. “Karaku, fuck her pussy hard, but don’t cum inside. Sekido, stop teasing her and give her your cock too. Spread her ass and spit in it. Urogi, have her suck your balls.”

Urogi eagerly did as Aizetsu told him, fisting his cock as he tilted your chin to stare deeply into your teary eyes. “Fuck, I love that you're being such a fucking crybaby and we haven’t even fucked you yet.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, talon scraping over your tongue. “You heard Aizetsu. Open up.” Urogi grinned as he placed his balls on your tongue and tossed his head back and lets out a mewl when your lips closed over them to suckle. “Such a good fucking whore you are.”

Karaku licked his lips clean of your sweet essence as he slid you down his chest, a trail of your slick coating his skin until his throbbing cock nudged at your hole. He shuddered at the feeling of your warm pussy gliding over his length. “Gonna fuck you so good. You gonna be a good little toy and take my cock all the way, yeah?” He lined the sticky tip up with your dripping hole and pushed inside with a low moan.

Sekido spread your ass cheeks, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your twitching little hole. Gathering a fat glob of saliva on his tongue, he lets it slide down past his lips to drip down into the crack. He used his thumb to smear it around and slowly pushed it inside to lubricate it more. Sekido lined his cock up with your tight hole and slowly pushes past the ring of muscle. “Tight ass bitch. Let me inside.” He growled as he gripped your hips tightly, claws threatening to rip your skin again.

You stiffened at the pain of being stretched so full by two cocks, the burn almost unbearable. Your moans were muffled by Urogi’s balls still suckled between your lips as he stroked his cock above your face. You whimpered as you felt them taking alternating thrusts inside you, touching the deepest part of you. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you could feel your body reacting to them, clenching down on them.

Karaku grinned as he felt your walls flutter and hug his dick tightly, sucking him in deeper. His finger squeezed in between your bodies to toy with the sensitive pearl of flesh. He watched as your back arched against him, shoving more of your ass back onto Sekido’s cock Laughing when he felt your nails dig into his chest like that would make him stop. “You’re so cute, slayer, but Aizetsu said to fuck you hard...” Karaku planted his feet on the ground more firmly, his claws digging into your thighs as he grabbed you tightly. “So, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Sekido grunted as he snapped his hips roughly, bullying his fat cock deeper into your tight ass. A growl left him as your warm heat wrapped around him, hugging him so tightly. “F-fuck...” He whined softly, his face scrunching up from the pleasure. “Squeezing my dick like this. You must want me to fucking cum in your ass. You’re such a filthy little cumslut.” He grabs your hips so tightly, nails digging into your flesh and causing fresh blood to drip down onto Karaku’s waist.

Urogi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and curled into the air as he laughed loudly, his cock throbbing at the sight of your tears. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking up at me with that face. Those fucking tears make me so hard. You want that? For me to cum on your face like the needy whore you are?” His voice shudders as his hand speeds up. “Or you’d rather I cum down the fucking throat, plugging up your nose so that you have no choice but to swallow?”

Before you could even answer, Aizetsu made the decision for you. “Make her swallow it, Urogi.”

“You heard him! Open up!” The yellow-eyed clone giggled as he pushed his cock back between your lips, dragging the throbbing hot flesh across your tongue. The tip hit the back of your throat and Urogi howls with pleasure as he grabbed the sides of your head to hold you steady as he fucked into your mouth.

Aizetsu’s face was flushed even as his blue eyes darkened – his control was wearing thin as his cock throbbed with the need for release. His hand wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside your snug little pussy. He wanted to be the one to fill you so full of cum that it caused a bulge in her belly. Aizetsu bit his lip, fangs piercing the plump flesh and blood dribbled down his chin – which he quickly licked away. Soon. He’d let his counterparts finish first. 

Karaku’s hips meet yours as his cock bullied your insides, his tongue out to show the kanji etched on it as his eyes zero in on the way Urogi’s dick bulged in your pretty throat. “Fuck you’re taking all three of us so well.” His fingers tighten around your thighs – they were sure to leave bruises behind, marking you as his. Karaku grit his fangs as his balls slap against your cunt, cock tingling with the tale-tell signs of his release.

He had half an inkling to ignore Aiztesu’s command and cream this drippy little pussy of yours with his cum, paint your deepest parts in his color. But he was kinder than that. Aizetsu has been telling them just how to pleasure you, all while edging himself. “Go ahead.” He leaned up and nipped at your collarbone, sucking at the skin to leave more of his marks behind. “Cum on my cock. Soak it. Y’know you want to.”

Sekido threw his head back, hair fanning out as sweat dripped down the side of his face. Your tight little ass was giving him so much pleasure. His balls tightened as his dick throbbed and swelled inside. “Fucking bitch. Gonna cum in this filthy ass of yours. You’re just a fucking cumdump for me, got it?”

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” Urogi grins as his talons pinched into the skin of your cheeks as he thrust in and out of your drooling mouth. “Take it! And don’t waste a drop!” With a few more deep thrusts, his hot milky seed filled your throat at such rapid speed that you had no choice but to swallow or choke.

Karaku moans loudly as his hands leave your thighs to squeeze your breasts as he felt you tighten and clench down on his cock as he found that sweet spot, pressing on his repeatedly until he felt you shaking and trembling. “Give it to me, pretty little plaything. Soak me in your juices. Let me see you make a mess like the good little slut we’re training you to be.”

You tossed your head back as you let out a loud cry. “Oh fuck!” You screamed as you came hard on Karaku’s dick, rings of cream frothing around the base as he continues to fuck you through your high. “I...I can’t. Please stop.”

Sekido grunted as he slid his cock out and pushed it in deep – stretching the tight muscles into his shape. “Shit.” He grit his fangs tightly as his claws cut into your skin once more. “Tch.” The red-eyed clone scoffs at the feeling of your blood coating his fingers. Taking his hand, he grabbed your cheek and forced your lips to part. “Suck your filthy blood off my fingers, bitch.”

The metallic taste that covered his fingertips coats your tongue as Sekido fucks into your tight hole with fast deep thrusts as Karaku’s mouth sucked on your nipples, his fang scrapping over the swell of them as his own thrust began to grow more and more sporadic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Karaku moaned as he slammed into you once, twice, three more times before he pulled out and fists his slick covered cock. “Shit...” Cum paints your lower stomach and thighs as he finished and breathes heavily as your slick pussy lips grind over his half mast dick because of Sekido’s brutal thrusting.

Sekido grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch for him as he fucked your ass with fast, hard snaps of his hips. His cock tingled and swelled inside you as he felt his end nearing. “Slutty ass bitch. You gonna cum from me fucking and filling your ass with my seed? I bet you are.” His teeth grit from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his fingers as you clean the blood off of them. “Fucking...I’m cumming. Cumming...!” He snarled as he came hard, spraying your insides with his hot cum.

You moaned like a cat in heat from the feeling of Sekido filling your tight, puckered hole – it creamed around his cock because it was so much. You collapsed on top of Karaku, chest heaving. “No...” you swallowed. “No, more.”

Karaku runs his claws soothingly over your back, his grin never leaving his face as he heard Aizetsu slowly making his way over to where you were. “But you only took three of us. There are four of us.” He reminded you as the shy blue-eyed clone pulled you up and into his arms.

Aizetsu cupped your cheek as he lifted you up against him and wrapped your legs around his waist. His lips found yours as his tongue seeks out yours. He swallowed your muffled cries and ignored your fists as they pound against his chest. He lined his weeping cock up with your hole, lifting your hips easily.

“Wait a second, Aizetsu. I ain't get a turn to fuck her.” Urogi said as he flew over to the two of you. “Lemme have her ass.”

Hands spread your ass cheeks, cum still dripping out of the tight hole of your ass. “This ass?” Aizetsu whispered as he slid inside your pussy with one fluid movement, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as you moaned so beautifully for him. “G-go a-fuck-ahead.”

You let out a shocked gasp when the yellow-eyed avian-like demon let out a cackle as his talons wrapped around your shoulders as he lined his cock up with your still twitching hole as Aizetsu slowly thrust up into you. “No, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Aizetsu turns your face back to his, his tongue – the Kanji “sorrow” etched into the pink muscle – sliding out to lick at the tears that gathered in your eyes. “You can, pretty slayer. Aren’t we making you feel so good? Tell me I’m making you feel good, please?”

Urogi ignored your pleas and pushed the fat tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscles, his knees buckling a bit. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight. Such a horny thing.” He licked a line up your back, tasting the sweat that covered it. “You love having two cocks in your tight ass and cunt, right?”

Karaku felt left out and walked over to where his counterparts were and grabbed your hand. “C’mon pretty slayer, touch me too.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, he used the movements from the other two thrusting up onto you to fuck your fist. 

You wrapped your other arm around Urogi’s neck, nails digging into his back as he and Aizetsu pound into you. You could tell the difference between the two by the pace. Aizetsu was slow, methodical and careful – building up an orgasm out of you. While Urogi fucked into you at an animalistic pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. Your mouth dropped open into a series of drawn out curses, nails digging into Urogi’s back as the other squeezed Karaku’s cock.

“Oi, human!” Sekido growled out, not liking that he was the one left out now. “You got one more hole, let me–” He started to take a step towards them, his cock bobbing as he moved when all three of his counterparts glared at him.

“We wanna hear her.” They growled. The sounds of your moans were like the sweetest of sounds to their ears and they wanted to hear it more and more.

Aizetsu angled his hips so that his thrusts were deep, the thick tip fucking against your cervix with each precise thrust. His mouth drops open in a whimper as his eyes teared up from the feeling of your pussy quivering around him. “Please. Need for you to tell me that I’m making you feel good, slayer. I need to hear it.”

Each word of his last sentence was punctuated by a deep thrust and your head fell back against Urogi’s shoulder. “Fuck! You’re making me feel so fucking good.” You gave into the hypnotic spell Aizetsu was lulling you into with his gentle and tender touches.

Urogi laughed as he picked up speed, his balls starting to tighten with the threat of his release. “You’re damn right we are.” His feathers ruffled when your nails dig into the skin between them. “H-hey...” He mewled. “Not the wings.” The avian-like demon lets out a screen when your hand grabs the downy feathers near the base of his wings. A shudder goes down his spine as his dick swelled inside you as it began to paint your walls with his thick cum. “Fucking dammit...” 

Karaku watched as Urogi fell to his knees, his cock popping out of you as he did so. Aizetsu took that time to turn you around, hands wrapping under your thighs so that he could easily lift you up and down on his cock. “Don’t mind if I do.” He shoved the yellow-eyed clone out of the way as his lips attached to your clit.

The scream you let out was like music to them as Sekido begrudgingly walked over to use your hand to stroke his cock to completion. Your other hand wrapped around Aizetsu’s neck as you moaned those sweet sounding cries in his ear, encouraging him that he was still making you feel good. His lips nuzzled your ear as his voice rumbled, “Cum for me. Let me feel you soak my cock. That way I really know I’m making you feel good.”

“Yeah, our pretty plaything. Cum for Aizetsu and let me taste it. You can squirt, right?” His tongue swirled on your clit, teasing it with the tip as the blue-eyed clone thrust into you so deeply that your body jerked, hand tightening around Sekido’s cock.

“Fucking shit, bitch.” Sekido cursed, the tip drooling with pre as he felt his balls draw up, the telltale sign that he was about to cum. He fucked your fist faster, the slick sounds of it echoing in his ear. Sekido lets out another grunt before he spilt his seed, coating the top of your fist with it. “Making me cum like that...you’re such a whore...” he panted.

Aizetsu bounced you on his cock, determined to make you cum – to make you squirt so hard you passed out from the pleasure. His fangs grazed over the shell of your ear before he stuck his tongue in your ear as he felt you tighten up on his length. “Just let go and be our plaything.” He whispered.

Your back arched like a cat as you felt your thighs tremble, clit throbbing on Karaku's greedy tongue. Your chest heaved as your body convulsed, cumming hard, squirting – the hot clear liquid drenching Karaku’s face and dripping down Aizetsu’s thighs.

“Good fucking girl.” The green-eyed clone praised after he swallowed what he was able to catch on his tongue.

Aizetsu let out a whine as he trailed his tongue down the length of your neck before biting down gently on your pulse point. His thrust sped up until he was pounding into your soaked pussy. “Oh fuck. Oh shit...” He whimpered, tongue lapping at your pulse as he felt his cock twitching. He wasn’t to last much longer. “Gonna cum. Gonna cream this pussy. Say that’s what you want. Please tell me you want my cum.”

In your hazy fucked out mind, anything he said sounded heavenly. You mewled out weakly, “Want your cum. Give it to me.”

No sooner than those words left your throat, Aizetsu gave you a few more deep, cervix kissing thrusts before his hot cum spilled over inside your needy cunt. “Take it. Take it all.” He whined out as he fucked it deeper into you. “You’re our plaything now.”

Even you had to agree, You’ve become the plaything of the Upper Moon 4, Hantengu – no, the four clones, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, and Aizetsu.

©️2022-23 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

#nymphomanic♡ #kny smut #kny karaku #kny aizetsu #kny urogi #kny sekido #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x you #karaku x reader #urogi x reader #sekido x reader #aizetsu x reader #kny hantengu #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!

May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?

I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3

-🖋️

stars above your skin

oh 🖋 we're really in it now

how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.

so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem

in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!

this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!

here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title

by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy

tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company

cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)

⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?

author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 

After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 

When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 

Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 

It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 

You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 

But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 

You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 

A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 

That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.

You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 

You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.

Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.

Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 

“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”

And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!

It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.

But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.

The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 

Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.

This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.

IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.

READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?

IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 

READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 

IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 

READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.

IKE: They’re like Bookdren.

READER: Or Quillworms.

IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.

READER: www

IKE: www

Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.

But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.

He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.

The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 

You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.

A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.

That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.

The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”

Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”

Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 

At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”

Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”

Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”

“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”

“You said it though!”

Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 

But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.

“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”

Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.

“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.

She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”

Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”

“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”

“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”

“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”

“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”

“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”

The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”

“We know.”

“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”

“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”

Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”

“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. “But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”

“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”

“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”

She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 

Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”

“That’s the truth. Happy?”

“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”

“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 

“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“

“Don’t tell Reader that!”

“Tell me what?” 

“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”

Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”

“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”

“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”

“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”

“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”

Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”

 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 

“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”

“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”

“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”

“No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”

“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”

“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”

“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”

“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”

“Well, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 

You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 

Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”

You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.

“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.

“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”

Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 

When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.

…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.

You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 

Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 

Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.

You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 

You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”

Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.

“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 

As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.

You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”

As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”

The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 

gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 

messXed-up!: ike!!

lunasmortas: what about ike?

A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”

You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:

Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!

You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.

Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.

His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.

Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now

Ike Eveland: Are you okay?

You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 

With your heart still in your throat, you respond.

Me: uuuuuuugh i guess

Me: the game is really scary

Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭

Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |

Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?

Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |

Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol

Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!

Ike Eveland started a voice call.

“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”

You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 

 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”

Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”

“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”

“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”

“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”

“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”

“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”

You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”

He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”

“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”

You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”

But you still press Return To Game.

And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 

You slam a pillow over your face and groan.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk

“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍

It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 

“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”

Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 

You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.

By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 

Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.

Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.

Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  

The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.

Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 

Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.

They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.

You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.

She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”

It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.

Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 

Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.

Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 

“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”

“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”

Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”

“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”

“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”

“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”

Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”

“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”

“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.

Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”

The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.

Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 

While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 

Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.

You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!

Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 

Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.

Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.

It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 

But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 

The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.

Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 

The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.

You just want to stay here, unresisted.

Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.

Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 

No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 

The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.

You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.

Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 

“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 

“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”

Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”

Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.

Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 

Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)

Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |

Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA

Alban Knox: AASDFSDF

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙

Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS

Aia Amare: I AM

Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 

Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |

Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 

Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US

Me: we are not cuddling

Alban Knox: YOU ARE

Aia Amare: YOU ARE

Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |

Me: mika wth you too? 😭 

Mika Melatika: image.png

Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background

Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized

Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |

Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!

Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~

Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 

You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.

“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”

Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 

“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”

Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”

“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 

“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”

You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”

“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.

What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?

“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 

She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”

“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”

Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.

“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”

“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.

“Got any feelings about it?”

“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”

“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”

“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 

Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 

“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”

When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”

He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?

You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”

“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 

Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”

You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 

Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”

While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”

And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 

The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 

Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 

Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 

All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 

You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 

It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 

You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 

“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”

A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 

“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”

Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 

The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 

There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”

You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?

“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”

“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”

“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”

It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 

“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”

“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”

“Thanks, Vox.”

“Now get in here.”

You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”

“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”

“I just wanted a hug!”

You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.

“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”

“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”

“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”

Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.

You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”

Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”

Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“

Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”

You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”

“You got me,” Vox says. 

“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”

“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 

“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”

“No,” you lie.

“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”

Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”

“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”

Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 

Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  

“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”

“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.

She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”

And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 

Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 

You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”

Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”

“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 

Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 

“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”

Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”

“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”

“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”

“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”

Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 

Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”

You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 

But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.

Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”

A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 

This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 

“I do love you,” you say. 

It just feels right to say. 

Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 

Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Just that?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”

“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”

“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”

Neither of you say anything. 

This was a bad idea. 

You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 

“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”

Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”

He drops your hand and turns away. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”

“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”

You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.

Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?

You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 

“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”

You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”

The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.

What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.

“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Another groan.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”

You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”

“It’d be nice…”

Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 

“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”

“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.

You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”

“I really hate admitting you’re right.”

“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”

Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.

But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”

“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”

Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”

“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”

Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”

“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 

“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”

“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”

“I know. I can’t believe it.”

Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”

You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”

“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”

“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”

“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”

You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.

“You really think so?” You quietly ask.

Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.

Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”

She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 

You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”

Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”

“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”

“What?”

“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”

“Hey!”

“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”

Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”

“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”

Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”

Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”

“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 

That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.

The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.

Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 

You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”

Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”

“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”

She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”

Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”

“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”

You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 

“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”

Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.

You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”

“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”

“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”

“What do you mean, ‘up for this?’”

“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”

“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”

“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”

“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.

“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”

Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.

When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.

Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 

Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 

So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 

That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 

She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Thanks. Is Reader here?”

Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 

Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”

“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”

“I don’t know, what’s it about—“

“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”

“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”

Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”

You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 

“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”

The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 

Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”

You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.

No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 

“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 

Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”

Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 

You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”

“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”

“Slow down. What are you even saying?”

“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”

“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”

“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”

“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“No, that’s not it either! I—“

Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”

You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”

The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 

You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 

You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.

Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.

But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.

The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.

Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.

He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.

It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.

So you reach out instead.

Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.

But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.

“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”

Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 

“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”

Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 

Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”

“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 

You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.

“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”

Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”

“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”

Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 

Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”

Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.

“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”

He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”

“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”

The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?

Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”

You close your eyes.

And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 

Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.

Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.

There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.

But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.

Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.

When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”

Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Starting soon…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 

Kaidororero: welcome back ike!

Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙

A normal broom: HI IKE

lunasmortas: 💙💙💙

viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:

Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 

He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 

juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?

Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG

lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:

Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL

Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 

Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”

Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 

“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?

“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”

Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!

sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙

haabinae: :_tskr:

Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣

A normal broom: what did you sing?

Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”

lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙

gatamiizuus: ayo?

Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:

haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:

Thornmy: SO COOL 💙

“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”

K. K. Soda: ooooo

Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr

asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?

deeboorgur: HI ALBAN

Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:

“I’m getting there, Alban!” 

Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 

But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”

And the chat explodes. 

Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET

asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR

gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER

ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED

“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”

gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE

Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕

ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN

Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW

The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.

“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”

Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”

ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️

K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD

nroneo: :_heart:

A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 

Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!

“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”

His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”

The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!

“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”

Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 

He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 

“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 

Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 

He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.

“Reader…”

The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!

“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”

ystariya: i love reader

Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER

acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙

“Aaah!”

Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO

Johnclone: Hello Reader!

Y A M: OMG

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!

Festersk: LMAO

Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”

Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 

haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:

juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment

Thornmy: AWWW

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord

A normal broom: Oh?

“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.

Reader: because you were talking about cafes

Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!

It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 

Reader: ahh you remembered! 

Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me

Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you

Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-

Me: You’re really pretty in this one!

Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |

Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE

Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD

Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC

Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 

Me: Akaslwdnja

Me: Thank you 😭

Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food

Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?

Reader: just refilled my bottle

Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!

And before he can overthink it, in the moment—

Me: I love you!

His sights are set on his second monitor.

Reader is typing…

Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 

Reader: fdsjdfkl.

Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.

Reader: i love you too, ike

Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.

His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.

He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.

Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after

Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |

It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 

His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.

“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”

The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.

Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 

“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”

A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world

The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊commentary ↣

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland fluff #ike eveland angst #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #4402 writes #🖋 anon #fanfic is unrealistic and i know this because clippers would NEVER use semicolons in their captions #eating string cheese wrong is symbolic. it represents eavesdropping and shitty lies that go unnoticed #i hope i never see a typo in this thing this fic is literally impossible to edit on mobile #update: there were typos. and i had to wait 3 minutes for the editor to load on my laptop before i could fix them. rip #pliskinverse

[thelastofhyde]

⏤ para sentir el calor del sol, series masterlist.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

series synopsis. the story of a man riddled with coldness, struggling to let in the warmth he's hidden away from for years, and the ray of sunshine he calls his sol.

series warnings. no use of y/n ( reader has the nickname of sol ), enemies-ish to lovers, slow-burn, sunshine!reader, queer!tess, miscommunication/no communication, toxic approaches to love/feelings, obsessive behaviours, pining, undefined age gap ( reader can be interpreted as late 20s/early 30s in the canon timeline ) discussions of s.a., depictions of grief, child-loss and canon-typical violence, limited fluff, angst, smut ( lots of it ).

series wordcount. 30.9k ( thus far. )

series playlist. dia de enero - shakira, fallingforyou - the 1975, he gets me so high - beabadoobee, hate to see your heart break - paramore, out of the woods - taylor swift

disclaimers. 1) this series will roughly comply with the canon of both the hbo series and the video game but i have taken the liberty of changing certain scenes, events and dialogue to better suit the fic’s plot. 2) this series will have no official update schedule because i suck at sticking to them. no link = not posted yet.

add yourself to the taglist.

read on ao3. ( capitalisation available )

a word from hyde. i never intended for the likeability paradox to turn into this, it was simply meant to be a brainrot drabble of joel being on his knees. now here i am, willing to put my life on the line for joel and his sol, no hesitation because they mean that much to me.

i. the likeability paradox.

synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing living under bill and frank's roof, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel. warnings. pining, unrequited love, canon-typical violence, smut ( oral- f receiving, fingering, degradation, panty stealing, hair pulling, dirty talk, dubcon. ) word count. 12.9k

ii. the revving of engines.

synopsis. joel miller’s not made it this far in the age of the apocalypse just to die at the hands of some adrenaline-crazed, no-brain-having fool who barely knows where to place her hands on the steering wheel. hind-sight fully intact and ever-so eye opening, he should have said no before frank could even finish his question: can you teach the girl to drive? warnings. panic attacks, perv!joel, slightly dark!joel, soft!joel ( for like a second ), a smidge of fluff, gun violence, murder, smut ( unprotected piv sex- don’t be silly, wrap that willy-, public sex, car sex but also not, exhibitionism, possessiveness, murder kink [ kinda but not really, joel just gets... more enthusiatic at the thought of protecting the reader], mentions/implications of panty stealing, male masturbation, sex as a form of payment, glory-holes, dubcon. word count. 16.8k

iii. the butterfly theory.

synopsis. two seasons pass before joel's very eyes and, without the presence of his sol, neither the spring nor the summer seem to heat his aching soul. what's meant to be a simple drop off at bill and frank's becomes a whirlwind of events that sends you barrelling right back into joel's arms, and all it takes is a horrified shriek: otis is missing! warnings. mentions/implications of sa, only-one-bed trope ( with a twist ), smut. + more warnings to be added ! word count. ( unknown ).

iv. the weight of silver.

synopsis. joel should have known better than to trust that woman to keep her mouth shut. it’s not that tess servopoulos is bad at keeping secrets but, rather, that she views them as a way to connect, to share a precious gem among those she cares about. the added affect of embarrassing joel is merely the cherry on top. she may have put her foot a little too far into her mouth with this one though: joel’s got a new woman. warnings. jealousy, possessiveness, hints of sexual ownership, smut. + more warnings to be added ! word count. ( unknown ).

(+ more parts to be added. )

timeline outtakes ! aka drabbles

11:11 ( infected, 2008 ). 14:57 ( unshaken, 2011 ). 22:22 ( lookalike, 2016 ). 18:22 ( leashes, 2022 ). 20:34 ( tuxedos, 2023 ). 05:48 ( sunrise, 2023 ). 03:33 ( terror, 2023 ). 02:13 ( delirium, 2023 ). 08:03 ( routine, 2023 ). 19:17 ( overheard, 2023 ).

#joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #𓄹 nav;

[stobinesque]

held frozen like an angel to me

A birthday fic for the truly incomparable @steves-strapcollection!! Happy Birthday, Gerry, I hope you're having the best and filthiest day imaginable.

If you somehow don't know: Ger is an absolute powerhouse of smutty Steddie creation, and also one of the first people to welcome me so warmly and enthusiastically to the Steddie fandom. It's been a truly wild ride getting sucked back into the obsessive heights of fandom brainrot for the first time in years over the past few months, and Gerry is definitely at least 30% responsible for it (I would be willing to go higher).

Also if you haven't read any of Gerry's work you should absolutely go do that. He's out here writing some of the best transmasc erotic fiction in the English language (I'm intentionally leaving off the 'fan' prefix there).

This fic also has art made by the mind-bogglingly talented @sentient-trash. It's an absolutely stunning piece, and the collaboration with Simon definitely accounts for the richness of detail within the fic as a whole. This story truly wouldn't be what it is without him. Also many thanks to @scarcrossdlvrs and @inairbinad for being my cheerleaders!

A playlist for the fic can be found here.

Steddie | wc: 10.3k | Explicit | cw/tags: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Vers Dom Steve Harrington, Vers Sub Eddie Munson, Monsterfucking, Monster Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Dual POV, Gothic Vibes, Referenced Non-Monogamy, Shapeshifting Genitalia, Dream Sex/Manipulation, Sleep Paralysis, Biting, Aphrodisiac Venom, Blood Kink/Blood Play, Choking, Breeding Kink, Possessiveness/Obsession, Ownership, Collars, Compulsion, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Come Play/Come Eating, Foot Kink (kind of?? including to be safe), Cock & Ball Torture, light gore?? (at least some mildly gory allusions/metaphors), Religious References and Biblical Allusions, Dacryphilia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Tails, Wing Kink, Lactation Kink, Knotting, Good Boy Eddie Munson

[ READ ON AO3 ]

The hall echoes with silence, as it has for weeks now.

Steve stretches his limbs, and the rough sound of stone grinding against stone rends the air.

As marble gives way to skin and scale, Steve’s awareness shifts to a damp trail carving a path down his face. The arm stretched over his head falls, hand brushing over his cheek and coming back wet with the blood of his tears. He brings it to his lips. Licks it away. The taste of his pet bursts across his tongue. The source of all his tears.

At long last, his beloved has returned. He can scent it on the air.

Steve unfurls his wings, letting them open wide for the first time in what feels like ages.

Knowing a mortal has distorted his perception of time.

No matter.

Steve regards the manacle looped around his ankle with an indulgent smile before willing it away into nothingness.

His pet's desire to keep him as a pretty thing never fails to amuse.

Steve twirls the garland of his namesake flower in his hands. Considers disappearing it along with the manacle. But his beloved likes to see him adorned with pretty things.

He wreaths himself in flower and leaf, the tips of his horns holding the white blooms in place.

Steve has always imagined that shaking off his statuesque form must feel akin to waking from that slumber humans seem to love so much. It feels good to be back in his body—muscles tensing and flexing as he turns to regard his stone plinth, tail whipping around him as the stiffness in his joints dissipates.

His eyes rove the space, taking in the finery he rarely gets to see from other angles. He runs his fingers over the filigree of his alcove, careful not to scratch the wood, and smiles with the knowledge that his pet gives him pride of place amongst his collection. That he considers Steve his finest treasure.

But Steve is being too self-indulgent. It's time to welcome his lover home.

The old grandfather clock tolls the witching hour as Steve ascends the staircase. When he reaches the top it’s to find that his lover did not make it past the parlor on his return home.

Eddie is sprawled across his ornate fainting couch—splayed out in a pile of furs. He’s half-dressed in a pair of leather pants that look painted on, while his pale chest gleams in the moonlight.

Steve leans against the door frame, watching as he sleeps. And though no one is there to see it, he beams, wicked.

Oh, how he loves to toy with his food before he eats it.

Eddie is floating; suspended in æther.

Strange lights and shapes of color bend and twist and fold around him.

He chases after them—reaching out to grasp each one. Watching as they disintegrate between his fingers.

And then he’s falling.

No, not falling.

The ground is rushing up to meet him.

To cradle him like a lover.

Eddie stares up into a meaningless sky—void of all but darkness—as hands begin to grasp at his chest. Fingers trail across his torso. Grab at his side. Graze and pinch his nipples with a biting force.

He can’t count them. Can’t see them.

Can’t hear anything.

He is surrounded by disembodied touch—holding him up, pressing him down, squeezing, fondling, grappling.

And he is at sea, searching for an anchor.

He's lost.

Lost without his angel.

His lord.

Eddie casts about, searching without sense.

Stretching the boundaries of himself and pulling.

A wet warmth envelops one of his nipples. A pair of soft lips trail kisses down the line of his stomach. A ravenous mouth sucks a bruise into his neck. Still another descends down, down, and—

Eddie gasps, but still there is no sound.

No breath escaping his lungs.

It's the idea of a gasp, moan, cry sailing through him.

His blood runs hot. Muscles tense.

He’s all sensation with no grounding.

High and drunk on the hands and mouths that travel the expanse of him.

He wants a way out. To escape the sticky web he’s been trapped in.

But a part of him wants to sink.

To drop like a stone.

To drown.

To let The Lord of skies and heavens and seas come to bear him up and pluck him from the depths below.

Where is he?

Angel

His mind echoes with the cry, even while the phantom sense of his body aches and struggles to move. To break free. To fight or flee or float towards the one who loves him.

Angel. My lord.

Eddie wakes with a gasp, air bubbling in his chest. He blinks against the moonlight, sight restored. Yet he still can't move. Pinned in place by some outside force. Alone and petrified—

No, he's not alone. There's a figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the chandeliers he keeps faintly lit in the receiving hall.

Eddie sees the outline of wings. Of horns. A flowered crown.

No sooner has he had the thought to reach out than the figure is stalking towards him. Eddie still can't move, and the beat of his heart picks up its pace. Not yet pounding in terror, but racing like he's just started a chase. He wants to speak. Wants to cry out, wants to—

"Hello, my pet."

Golden-verdigris eyes flicker in the moonlight as the figure hovers over him. It's not enough to see by—not nearly enough—but he knows Steve is smiling by the way it glints off one of his fangs.

A part of Eddie relaxes at the sight of him. Close enough to touch, to kiss—finally, after weeks apart.

But his hind-brain—locked in the throes of disorientation from his dream—still perceives his angel as threat. As monster.

That's what he is, after all.

Eddie's monster.

The talon of Steve's index finger hooks through the one that dangles from the scaled collar around Eddie's neck and tugs gently. "You've been gone too long, beloved." His voice is somehow both honeyed and sibilant. "I ought to welcome you home."

Firm lips press against Eddie's own. He's starting to regain some use of his limbs—can feel his control returning to him at the edges of his consciousness—but the second Steve swipes his tongue across Eddie's lips his mouth goes numb. He lies there, slack-jawed, as Steve kisses him with diluted venom on his tongue. Eddie moans, the sound pulled from his chest like Steve had hooked his talons through his very soul and pried it loose.

He thinks that actually happened long ago.

Steve pulls away, and Eddie wants to chase after him, but he's still held in place by the sleep paralysis. Some corner of his mind still pinned down by Steve's power.

Eddie needs to touch, to feel—to have a voice to speak and beg for it.

He can’t form his mouth around words, but he can make sounds, so he pushes a whine from his throat. Needs to let Steve know how much he’s missed him. How much he ached for him while he was away. How not an hour or minute passed where he wasn't picturing himself wrapped in Steve's embrace, even when he was using someone else to fill that gaping void in him.

And Steve is toying with him. Taking his own welcome by force.

Eddie shivers, and above him, Steve chuckles darkly, eyes flashing again in the silvery light.

Steve straddles his waist, and the faint light from the hall shines through the white blooms of the stephanotis flowers that wreathe the crown of his head. Eddie’s breath catches at the sight. He wants to supplicate himself before his Angel.

Eddie wants. Not just the simple gratification of physical pleasure—though he aches to have his lover’s hands on him—but also just a scrap of light. Steve may be able to see him just fine, but Eddie is still only human, and can't make out anything beyond Steve’s eyes and the occasional glimmer of his smile.

Eddie misses the sight of his face. Wants to drink in every detail. The sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones. The inhuman shimmer of his skin. The flecks of golden scales that dot him like moles—those catch and shimmer in the moonlight when Steve turns his head just right, but it's not enough.

Eddie’s mouth is still numb, but he can feel the severed link between mind and body reforming, and with a twitch Eddie manages to drag his arm up, to press his palm to the stony texture of his angel's skin.

A scaled claw snatches his wrist up immediately, followed by a hissing reprimand. "Now who told you you could move, my pet?" Steve whispers, leaning in close.

Eddie moans, and as the air passes between his lips he realizes that feeling has returned to them. "Lights," he manages to mumble. "Want…to see you."

"Are you making demands of me, my love?" Steve drags a knuckle down the side of Eddie’s face. "I don't think you've earned the right to make such requests, pet."

Eddie closes his eyes, because it is easier to see nothing than to be deprived of the full, glorious sight of his Master. "Please…my Lord. Please, I wish to be graced with the sight of you," Eddie begs around the cotton of his mouth.

Steve hums. "Well, I suppose you do beg prettily enough, even for a creature who speaks so plainly out of turn." Steve leans in ever closer, until the shining threads of his lashes brush against Eddie's cheek. "But I'm going to need you to stay." Steve punctuates the last word with a strain of Command behind it, followed by a sharp bite, fangs plunging into the tendons of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie gasps, arching his back as he feels the burning heat of Steve's venom enter his blood stream. Warmth rushes through him, heart pumping Steve's essence into each corner and every crevice of his being. His vision blurs as his head grows fuzzy and distant.

He feels the weight on him shift. Move. Disappear. Watches as the silhouette of a demon—an angel's retreating form—moves across the room. And then the parlor is awash with a dim golden light.

Eddie's eyes blink against it, thick with tears. It hurts, almost, in spite of how low it is. But it’s worth it for the vision that greets him when Steve steps back into his line of sight.

Steve was always a vision to behold. A creature without compare.

He moves like a dancer. Like a reed on the wind. Like a snake. Even when he’s standing still—even when literally encased in living stone in Eddie’s stairwell—he looks like a piece of art in motion. Like a spirit that can’t be captured.

He is everything the gods and poets speak of when defining beauty—and not just for the sight of him.

But what a sight he is.

Muscles that ripple in the low light. Golden scales that dot his skin like starlight. Hair that flickers like flames. Like there’s a perpetual gust of wind passing through those gossamer strands. Dusky nipples pierced through with golden hoops that sparkle and shine like the wiry metallic strands of hair that carpet his chest.

His arms and legs end in iridescent scales that flicker between green and gold and sapphire when they catch the light. Fingers and toes capped with talons sharp and black as obsidian.

All except the ring finger of his left hand.

That talon is around Eddie's neck.

His love is bare of everything except the token of Eddie's he himself bears—a collar made of gold, with Eddie's first guitar pick attached to the ring that dangles above Steve’s clavicle. He wears not a stitch of clothing while in this form—an affront to its very purpose, Steve explained once—but he allows himself to be adorned with that marker of Eddie's ownership at all times.

Steve stands before him. Lets Eddie drink his fill of the sight of him. And he knows that Steve has missed seeing him as much as Eddie has missed seeing Steve.

For the next tour, Eddie will have to devise a way to bring him along.

Perhaps as a piece of set decoration.

Steve takes a loping step forward and his wings unfurl behind him.

Eddie's heart lodges in his throat. Seeing them makes him want to soar. To fly above the world while they fuck and drench it with their love. They’re unlike any wings Eddie has ever seen or dreamt up in fantasy. Some cross between bat and bird and mythical beast.

Iridescent emerald, just like his scales and eyes, and layered with feathers and scales like beetle wings that ripple and shimmer with every movement. They tinkle as they shift, like dried scarab wings.

And when Steve flies they make music.

Steve stalks forward like a beast hunting prey. His pet’s eyes are fixed on the expanse of his wings, because his lover is weak for pretty things, as all mortals are. Steve preens under the attention—Narcissus took direction from him, after all—letting them flap and flutter behind him as he crosses back to where he has Eddie trapped in his Command.

“Your gaze is covetous, my love.”

“I have no other way to look at you, Master.”

Steve’s face splits into a grin, fangs pressing into the swell of his bottom lip. His pet is flushed a pretty petal pink all over. Cheeks flaring red, blood pooling just beneath the surface of fragile, porcelain skin.

Steve aches to drink from him. He doesn’t need blood to sustain him like certain other creatures of the night. But he already knows that the taste of his lover’s lifeblood is more refined than the bouquet of the finest vintage.

Steve continues his slow approach, savoring how Eddie’s rapt gaze moves with him. Like there's a cord attaching it to Steve.

When Steve folds himself onto his lover’s lap, his pet keens as though he’s only just realized he’s been straining the front panel of his leathers from the moment Steve got his fangs in him.

“Steve…Stevie…Phan. please.” The muscles of Eddie's neck tense as he strains against the venom's paralysis to try to reach Steve.

Steve’s talons clink against the metal bars pierced through Eddie’s nipples as he twists them in rough admonishment. “You speak out of turn, Theo.”

Their private nicknames for each other are for use outside of play.

Eddie’s breath escapes his throat in pained, reedy gasps as Steve pinches, sending twin paths of blood streaming down either side of Eddie’s chest. Steve watches with fascinated delight as Eddie’s body struggles to move away from the pain, but can’t due to the venom flooding his veins.

“S-sorry, Master. Please, I’m so sorry.” Tears bead along his pet’s lashes, and Steve paws his chest with gentling touches.

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, with an impish smile, taking a bloodied nipple into his mouth with a groan, and suckling at it like it was milk pouring from it. Steve moans, letting the warm red liquid pool on his tongue before swallowing it down. His lover’s blood is sweet and fragrant as honeyed wine, and Steve is already drunk on it. His cunt gushes, wet and ready to be filled with even more of Eddie’s sticky-sweet goodness.

Steve slides back until he’s straddling the tops of Eddie’s thighs, and palms a hand over the bulge there. Eddie moans, looking half ready to die a little death with nothing more than the suggestion of Steve’s touch along his length.

His poor foolish pet always forgets how hot his blood runs when he gets a little venom in him.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” Steve says. He hooks a talon through the laces that tie Eddie’s pants shut and snicks them open. “Missed this beautiful piece of work inside me even more.” Eddie isn’t wearing anything under his pants, and the second the leather cords snap, his cock bobs up and hits his stomach, standing proudly at attention under Steve’s ravenous stare.

Steve slowly drags the curved back of a talon along the underside of it, smiling wickedly when Eddie whimpers and tries to buck his hips upwards. Steve tsks, sliding the finger down, down, down—tickling along the seam of Eddie’s sack, pressing carefully against the sensitive skin of his taint, and continuing downward until the second knuckle of that finger is nudged up against Eddie’s entrance, bearing into it.

Eddie whines, and Steve coos gently as he takes the reddening length of his dick into a loose fist with his other hand. “It’s a shame that you humans are so fixed. I’d bet you’d just love to have a tight little snatch for me to fuck.”

A glob of precome spurts from Eddie’s length and Steve tsks, shaking his head. “Messy boy. You already get so wet for me. Bet you’d love to be sopping with slick. So ready to take me inside, isn’t that right, pet?” Eddie lets out a muffled, high-pitched sound of affirmation. Steve smiles. “We’ll get there. For now I just need you to sit there while I get my fill of you.”

Steve rises up onto his knees, positioning the head of Eddie's cock at the entrance of his cunt. He presses his palms to the center of Eddie's chest as he sinks down in one fluid motion, careful not to let his talons break skin. Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as he sheathes himself on Eddie's cock with a satisfied sigh.

Steve loves to take his pet any way he can get him. But he can’t deny that there’s a particular pleasure to the fullness of his prick inside him. Steve can feel Eddie in his guts. Feels greedy as he sucks him down. Wants his cum and love spilled all over his insides.

Eddie whines—and the paralytic effects of the venom must be wearing off, because Steve feels his lover's hips twitch upward from beneath him.

Now that simply won’t do.

Steve curls his fingers so that his claws rip and rend into flesh. His talons drag down the length of Eddie’s torso—nipples to navel—and Steve relishes in the scream it elicits. Rivulets of blood rush to the surface, trickling in small tributaries over the white expanse of Eddie's skin. Steve wanted to loop each around every line of red there and hold him in his hands like they're the threads of fate. Wants to weave the strands together until he has a cerement of blood and love and viscera enshrouding them.

Steve feels the muscles of his back tense and bunch and ripple as his wings stretch wide. He yearns to take to the skies—still wrapped around his lover—and let the blood he’s pulled from Eddie’s veins spill down like rain on the parochial inhabitants below.

None else but the two of them know love and joy and ecstasy like this.

Steve shifts his gaze back to his lover's face, adoration swelling in his chest. Tears stream down Eddie's face as Steve bounces on his cock and he forces himself not to thrust up into Steve's wet heat. With each minute that passes the struggle to hold still will grow stronger. The venom pumping through Eddie's veins makes him insatiable. Even when Steve inevitably milks him dry, his body will want more. This is just the beginning, the heat in his blood driving Eddie to chase after every sensation—pleasure and pain alike heightened to the edges of perfection.

"You're trying to be so good for me, aren't you, pet?" The words fall from Steve's mouth like a challenge. Eddie moans, head tipping back at the words. "Trying to keep your composure even though I can feel the way you're struggling not to shove this beautiful cock of yours as deep as it will go. But you're just a desperate little slut for me aren't you, pet? No better than a mindless, rutting animal."

Eddie snuffles, hips rocking up to meet Steve's with stilted, half-aborted thrusts.

Steve tsks, condescension dripping from his tone. "Did you want to come for me, pet? FIll me with your seed? Get me fit to bursting with a bunch of wingėd little cambions to fly around the empty mausoleum you like to keep me trapped in? As though you are lord over me?”

Eddie sobs, fists clenching into the furs beneath him, as Steve leans in close, trailing his forked tongue over the lines of blood, drinking in everything Eddie had to offer him, and moaning as the sweet taste broke over his tongue. “I let you own me, pet. And you would do good not to forget it.”

It was a truth wrapped in a lie. Or perhaps a lie hidden in the shape of a truth. Lord Stephanotis was not a creature to be ruled by a mortal in mere letter of law. In deed, however?

Despite the irony of it all, Steve had let this curious mortal bend him to his will. Had let the sharper edges of his own power be domesticated and subsumed by Theo's will. Steve was allowed only the meals that his pet’s body provided. He could, ostensibly, leave at any time in pursuit of a wider menu—but why would he, when his Theo was satiating all on his own?

When he was there, that is.

Maybe that was why time stretched to an eternity in Eddie's absence.

Steve rolls his hips with a sinuous motion, moaning as the head of Eddie’s cock hooks behind his navel and drives him wild.

“That’s right pet, fill me up.”

“Master, please,” his pet begs.

Steve’s tail whips out to wrap around Eddie’s neck, cutting off his pleas with a choked moan. “You forget your place, pet. I’ve reminded you more than enough times not to speak out of turn." Steve squeezed his cunt around Eddie's cock on a harsh downward thrust. "If you want to go gallivanting around the world taking any random cock, or stuffing any pretty pussy that flashes your way while leaving me chained here like some common whore, the least you can do is let me use you to get my fill when you return.”

Steve slams down onto Eddie’s cock again and grinds into him, tightening his tail around Eddie's neck and watching with a sick, twisted glee as his face turns a bright red. “That was our deal was it not? You keep me locked away, and in my stead you go and sow your wild oats? If you want to change the terms of our contract, my love, you have to ask. You can’t just go around acting like this cock doesn’t belong to me once you’re back under this roof.”

Eddie let out a sound that Steve was more accustomed to hearing in muck-filled stables. A desperate whinnying sound that makes his clit throb.

“Listen to you bray for me. You’ve certainly got the cock for it, my little stallion. Go on, fill me up. Breed me.”

Sometimes Steve forgot what it meant to hunger.

No, that's not right.

Hunger has become his natural state since falling into the talons of Theodore Munson. He's forgotten what it feels like to be full. To be satiated. He hasn’t had a true feast in what feels like æons. He often finds himself wondering if perhaps Eddie himself was a creature of myth in disguise. If he’d ensnared Steve in some hidden trap and snipped his wings so he couldn’t fly past the bounds of his lover’s estate.

Deep down he knows the truth. That Steve has allowed himself to be domesticated. That he’s buried a piece of his essence in the grounds here, binding him to them as surely as he’s bound himself in his devotion to Eddie.

When they're together the time passes in glorious blips, and long, winding stretches of bliss. Beautifully long and bitterly short in equal measure. The time passes so swiftly because it costs nothing to be with his pet. And so addicting was spending time with Eddie, that time and space seemed to bend around them—create a bubble outside of the rest of the world.

But when Eddie's away?

The first time Steve had been left behind he’d tried to stay awake. He’d paced the lengths of the hall. He’d fucked himself on the toys they used together when Eddie was home. He’d even made one ill-fated trip to the town’s market. But come the third day the need to breed or be bred bowled him over. He'd attempted to have a waitress over a bartop at the restaurant up the street, but the second he so much as smiled at her, the collar around his neck had tightened, stealing away his breath. He’d ignored it. Unconvinced it could truly bring him real harm. And then he’d gone to really lay it on thick and the metal burned around him.

Enough to leave a brand around his neck.

Something that shouldn't be possible to remain imprinted on this form.

That night, Steve returned to the manor, gazing wistfully from the window overlooking the grounds, and settled into place in the small alcove Eddie had situated his plinth in.

It was lowering.

A creature of legend cowed and kept by a humans' weak and flinching hands.

Steve loved him for it.

Steve had curled there, shoved a hand through his hair, and let the ache of missing Eddie turn him to stone.

Never his heart though.

That beat beautiful and black at all times, a steady rhythm calling his lover back home. Back to his Master.

He needed to have his pet in his arms.

Eddie is going wild beneath him. Hips thrashing. Hands grappling at the tail wrapped around his neck as he struggles for breath. When he finally gives up and lets them fall away, Steve groans, throwing his head back and grinding his hips down as he chases after the building tension in his gut.

“Come on, pet. Breed your Master.”

Eddie cries, his hips bucking sharply, and Steve feels his release flood him.

Steve moans, head going fuzzy as Eddie’s cum fills his cunt.

Steve climbs off of Eddie’s lap, letting his softening cock slip out and slap back down against his stomach. Eddie watches as a trail of his cum slides down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and a strangled whine gets stuck in his throat at the image.

Eddie tingles all over. Feels lightheaded and loose-limbed. He’s a puddle on the pile of furs beneath him and doesn’t think he could move if he tried. But there’s still a fire burning in his gut and he wants more. Wants Steve’s cunt back around him. Wants his cock buried in his ass. Wants that clawed hand wrapped around him, stripping him raw. Wants his Master to bite into his chest and rip him open.

Eddie pants, staring up at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes. He barely registers Steve moving, arranging himself on the little couch so that he’s sitting next to Eddie’s feet, thighs spread wide. Eddie barely has a chance to consider the implications of how Steve’s arranged himself before he feels himself moving without will at Steve’s hissing Command. “Get on your knees for me, pet.”

The Command overrides any whisper of exhaustion. It blanks his mind. he isn’t Eddie anymore. he is merely the tool by which his Master’s every whim is realized.

he feels himself rise onto unsteady feet, then fall to his knees in supplication. he’s still in the leather pants he’d worn for the last tour show—sticky and uncomfortable from sweat and cum and blood; fly hanging open, framing the flaccid dick between his thighs. he settles into his place on his knees between his Master’s open legs, leather squeaking against the parlor tiles, arms hanging, head bowed towards the floor.

“Look at me.”

The Command shivers down his spine. he loves the way his Master’s commands burrow under his skin and slide through sinew to move his body before thought is known. Loves the way his muscles and bones seem to instinctively follow the exact designs of his Master’s mind. There’s no question whether or not he’s being good enough, because it’s his Master’s will arranging him like he’s the perfect puppet for His desires.

his Angel never asks for anything more than he is able to give—nor anything less than what he needs.

his head lifts, chin jutting up and out, eyes peering up through lashes clumped together with tears, and stares at his Angel. his Master stares back, but His gaze is hard to meet, pupils round and black like shining stones, with only a thin band of viridescence left shining there.

“So good for me, my pet,” his Angel murmurs, slipping His fingers into his pet’s curls. He doesn’t pull, or tug—simply weaves the strands over knuckle and claw, securing His hold. “Now—” his Master tips His head down with a smile that stokes an anticipatory curl of heat in his pet’s groin. “Clean up your mess.”

he moans, diving forward to bury his face in his Master’s cunt. The hand at the back of his head doesn’t quite guide him. Doesn’t quite hold him in place. Just sits there like a promise. If there was any chance he might move away without permission, that hand was there to correct him. If his Master wanted to inflict pain, that hand would wring it. If he tugged against its grip, the claws now grazing his scalp would tear.

“C’mon on, pet,” his Master snarls. “Eat your cum out of me.”

he mewls, tongue darting out to scoop a dollop of cum from his Angel’s pussy and swallow it down. The salty-sweet taste of his own cum mixed with his Angel’s slick drives him wild. he lets out a desperate cry, pressing his face further into his Master’s cunt.

But something niggles at the back of his mind—it feels almost wrong to eat his cum from his Angel’s cunt. Unnatural. He needs it. Needs His pet’s seed to take root. Needs His pet to shove his fingers into his Master’s cunt. Needs to have His pet’s release pushed as far up into Him as it will go. Needs His pet to bully past the tight ring of muscle of his Master’s cervix and force it to take.

he's already hard as nails between his legs again, whimpering with desperation as the pressure in his gut mounts. he can’t take it. Needs release. Needs to come. Needs to fuck. Needs to breed. Needs to fill his Angel up again and again and again until His belly is heavy and round with it. With his brood—their little cambions.

And if he can’t have that—his hand will do.

Eddie doesn’t even consciously realize he’s doing it. Doesn’t make the choice to shove a hand down the front of his pants and curl his fingers around the base of his cock. Didn’t plan to pump his fist over his dick. Doesn’t mean to circle the pad of his thumb over the glans as he slowly and thoroughly guzzles down his own spend from his Angel’s cunt.

At first, his Master doesn’t react. But then Eddie moans, loud and long into the cavern of his cunt as he twists a hand around the head of his cock on an upstroke.

A clawed foot kicks his hand away before pressing down onto his stiff length.

Eddie keens, tears slipping down his face as he sucks on his Angel’s engorged clit and bucks up against the rough texture of his sole. The edges of his Master’s scales catch at the sensitive skin of his shaft, His claws just shy of piercing the skin at the base of Eddie’s cock. The sharp pinpricks of pain white out Eddie’s brain and leave his ears ringing.

His mind goes soft and fuzzy as he drinks down his Angel’s slick, the sharp counterpoint of pain leaving him at the cliff’s edge of utter desolation. The Command keeping his mouth fixed in place does nothing to stop the unconscious rocking of his hips, and Eddie can’t help but thrust upwards as he sobs into his Angel’s cunt, chasing after release at the risk of his own destruction.

“You’re being very naughty, pet,” his Master growls, words broken up by harsh pants and grunts. his Master’s foot flexes, tightening his grip until the claws over Eddie’s cock break skin, and the pain drags a bleating sound from the depths of Eddie’s soul as thin trails of blood drip down the back of his balls.

“I should put you in a cage next time,” His Master growls—so dark and low he’s nearly subvocalizing. “You can’t be trusted to focus on anyone else when you’re this hard and gagging for it.” The hand in Eddie’s hair tightens into a fist and presses him harder into his Master’s groin, nose grinding over the engorged length of his massive clit. “You already got to come once, pet. What makes you think you’ve earned it a second time?”

Eddie wails, heart pounding in his chest as he laps desperately at his Master’s cunt, trying to get every last drop of spend that he left there down his throat. his Angel’s words from earlier flit through his head and a desperate moan escapes him as he pictures himself with his very own sopping cunt, throbbing and ready to take his Master’s swollen cock so deep it punches through his guts. Eddie’s hole twitches at the thought, head going static as sweet, sticky slick pours down his throat.

Eddie can’t control himself. Has no ability to stop the wild bucking of his hips as he chases his second release. Whatever his tongue is doing now is utterly by Command. Eddie thinks his tongue would keep slurping cum from his Master’s cunt even if Eddie were to drop dead right then. Thinks he’d have to be physically detached from this cunt for anything to get in the way of him carrying out his Master’s edict. So every glimmer of actual thought he has is aimed at driving himself over the edge—pain be damned.

Or maybe the pain is the medium and method by which he achieves it. The blood trickling down his balls is just another point of stimulation. The scales dragging along his shaft drive sparks of intoxicating heat through his nerves.

Eddie leans into it, chasing pleasure, chasing pain, even though some part of him knows that on the other side of release lies danger. he trembles and whines, images of his Master bending him over the parlor’s piano to deliver his punishment flitting through his mind. he thinks about the whip Steve keeps coiled down in the dungeon. Thinks about the barbed end of his tail curving in the air behind him. Thinks about the skin of his back breaking open as he takes twenty lashes in penance for the pleasure his Master did not permit.

Eddie wants it. Wants to tip his Master over the edge from the doling out of reactionary pain into calculated torture. Because his Angel doesn’t lose control when he gets truly angry. He sharpens it like a knife. And Eddie wants it sunk right into his heart. Through the gaps of his ribs. Wants to let his Angel cut him open and come inside. Mix His cum and spit and tears in Eddie’s guts and lungs.

Eddie sobs out at the thought, and his Angel comes apart under his tongue.

Eddie isn’t unaware of it happening—how could he be ignorant of the nectar of the gods spilling over his lips?—but he’s no longer in his body when it happens. He’s floating above it all. Or sinking beneath it. High or drowning on ecstasy and devotion, mindless with it. Tears pour down his face, and he’s no longer aware of his own arousal. There is only h,is Master and how to serve him.

To please.

Eddie collapses, unaware of whether or not he’s come.

he feels like his strings have been cut. he’s on all fours, prostrating himself before his Lord.

his Angel’s clawed foot is no longer on Eddie’s cock, but Eddie doesn’t care, doesn’t even register it beyond being able to now lean forward and press his sodden face to the top of it. his tears wash over scales and drip down the crevices between his Angel’s toes.

The hand in Eddie’s hair moves, stroking gently. From far away Eddie can make out his Angel raining praises down on him as Eddie washes His foot with his own tears. Thick translucent droplets twinkling in the dim light of the room.

Eddie uses his tongue to wipe them away, licking across the scales of his Angel’s foot, following the graceful lines of it to his ankle, up his calf. Eddie stares up at his Angel from beneath his lashes, and his Master drops his foot away from Eddie’s mouth, bringing it to rest on one of Eddie’s thighs. Pinning him in place and splaying him open like an entomologist's specimen.

Eddie no longer feels a desperate hunger clawing at him, but tears continue to fall freely from his face. Like his tear ducts know he longs to baptize his Lord in sorrow and joy. Eddie bends his face down to his Angel’s other foot, letting the tears slip free and decorate that one, too.

Steve lifts his foot, tipping his lover’s head up by the jut of his chin. The tears on Theo’s face sparkle in the moonlight, and Steve takes in a deep, steadying breath at the sight of him. His pet is so beautiful, even in greed.

But he’s docile now, seated so submissively at Steve’s feet. He’s taken the time to wash him with his tears. So Steve can’t bring himself to hold onto any tone of reprimand for acting out of turn.

Steve wraps his tail around the length of Eddie’s hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail. He uses that grip to pull Eddie back onto his haunches, and Eddie follows, moving like water under Steve’s command.

He stares up at Steve as though he’d hung the sun, moon, and stars within the heavens—and Steve smiles back. Eddie closes his eyes against it like he’s been blinded.

With a steady hand, Steve take’s Eddie’s face into his palm, brushing a thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip. His pet’s mouth parts for him, tongue lolling out, and Steve presses the talon of his thumb there until a small spurt of blood bubbles up. Eddie whines, sucking the talon into his mouth and laving over it carefully. The soft sound of a claw clacking against enamel echoes in Eddie’s mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Steve unwinds his tail from Eddie’s hair, dragging the tip along Eddie’s cheek before nudging at the corner of his mouth. Eddie's throat rumbles with soft, low, and strung out sound as he turns his until Steve’s talon slips free, and the tip of his spear-capped tail is pressed along the seam of his lips. Eddie sucks the tip of into his mouth, bobbing his head as though he were sucking down the stony length of the prick rapidly growing between Steve’s legs. Eddie’s mouth is warm and wet around him, and Steve’s ears flicker as heat pools at the base of his spine. He always manages to forget how good this feels as gooseflesh raises along the back of his neck, and heat races down his spine. Steve pushes the spear-tip further in, relishing the way Eddie's lips spread wide to accommodate the intrusion, and the soft clack of metal against teeth as the charm tangling from his tail almost enters Eddie's mouth as well.

“You can touch me, pet,” Steve offers with breathy beneficence—and Eddie doesn’t hesitate—trails calloused hands along the curving line of Steve’s tail. Curls one into a fist, stroking back and forth along the shaft in a pantomime of the world’s slowest, most decadent handjob. The other reaches back to settle at his tailbone massage practiced fingers into the muscles that bunch together there.

Steve groans low in his throat, hips jerking forward—thrusting the now fully formed length of his dick into empty air.

Heat coils through him, and the scales along his arms ripple and raise like goosebumps. Steve wants to sink into Eddie’s tight heat. Wants to impale his pet on his cock. Knows that he can’t breed his pet in the way he longs to, but is driven mad by the desire to try anyway. With the urge to rut up into him and make him take and take and take everything Steve gives him until they’re tied together.

The tip of Steve’s tail withdraws from Eddie’s mouth—replaced swiftly, but gently, with Steve’s thumb—to skirt along the mountains and valleys of Eddie’s spine. Eddie shivers and nestles further into the hollow of Steve’s thighs, suckling again at Steve’s fingers. Always happiest when he’s got his mouth full.

Eddie shivers and moans as Steve continues to work his tail down the length of his back, emitting a small squeaking sound as the edge of the speared tip presses against the barbell pierced through sensitive flesh. Eddie ruts down onto it, chasing friction, and when Steve looks back down it’s to see Eddie’s eyes completely glazed over. He makes small little humming, begging sounds around Steve’s thumb, like he’s trying to ask for something without opening his mouth to form the words.

Steve scrapes his free hand through Eddie’s hair, ruffling it gently. “You’re so good for me, love. Such a beautiful pet. So well trained when you choose to be.” Steve adjusts his tail so the very tip of it is pressed against his lover’s opening. Eddie’s hand twitches and flexes against the base of Steve’s tail, almost squeezing there. Steve groans again, dick throbbing and tail twitching in a way that has it breaching just that first ring of muscle.

Eddie yells, sound muffled by the clawed talon in his mouth, and his hips jerk backwards to try to suck more of Steve’s tail into him, in spite of how dry he is.

Saliva pools in Steve’s mouth and he quickly pulls the tip of his tail from Eddie’s ass, sucking it into his mouth to slather with spit and venom. Eddie keens, staring up at Steve with wide, wet eyes, and Steve just smiles as he slips his spit-slick tail back into his lover's hole.

He doesn’t shove in very far—doesn’t want to accidentally snag Eddie’s rim with the bit of jewelry that dangles from his tail—so he shallowly fucks just the tip of it in and out of Eddie’s opening, while his pet attempts to hold himself up on shaking thighs.

“Look at how gorgeous you are for me, my love. So good, even when you can’t restrain yourself from taking whatever you want.”

Eddie’s jaw drops open, dropping Steve's finger from his mouth, tongue lolling out, as he pants and tries to work himself onto Steve’s tail with small hitching thrusts. Tears work their way down the sides of his face, and his eyes have gone glassy and cross-eyed as they fix on the heavy weight of Steve’s thick, erect cock bobbing between his legs. Eddie licks his lips. Stares up at Steve with wide imploring eyes.

“You want Master’s cock, love?”

Eddie nods desperately.

“Get up here, then,” Steve says. But he doesn’t offer a moment for Eddie to move under his own power. Instead he fists a rough hand in his hair, yanking him up onto wobbly feet, and dragging him forward until he’s straddling Steve’s open thighs.

“You look so pretty in my lap, love,” Steve murmurs, drawing Eddie down into a long, languid kiss. Eddie chirps in surprise, but leans into it, parting his lips so his tongue can twine with Steve’s. Steve holds back on mixing venom with spit this time. Wants Eddie to feel every bit of him loving him this way.

Steve flexes his wings wide. Curves them forward. Cocoons the two of them together in a pocket of solitary silence, glittering green and gold.

Steve strokes a hand along the knobs of Eddie’s spine again, carefully tracing their bumps and ridges with the tip of a talon. Along the path downward, he shifts his hand, willing talons to recede, and scales to smooth away from fingers and palm. He brings a human down to the rim of Eddie’s hole, pressing gently alongside the tip of his tail. Eddie shudders in his lap, bearing down ever so slightly, and Steve leans in to press a kiss to his neck.

“Want to take my cock, pet?” Steve whispers into his ear.

“Please, Angel. Please, please take me. I need you. Need you in me, I— “

Steve strokes a hand through Eddie’s hair, shushing him gently. “Quiet, pet. I’m going to take care of you.”

Steve raises the shifted hand up to his mouth, sucking the first three fingers inside to coat them with saliva and venom. When he's satisfied he drops it back down to Eddie’s ass, and pushes his forefinger into Eddie’s hole in one slow, smooth glide.

Eddie moans, rolling his hips in Steve’s lap, chasing the sensation. “Feels so good,” he mumbles. “Tingles.”

Steve nuzzles his nose against Eddie’s cheek and murmurs in his ear. “I know, pet. I know how much you love feeling my spit and venom in you. How drunk you get on my cum. Can’t wait to fill you up, sweetness.”

Eddie makes a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat, bucking down on Steve's hand and tail. His arms reach up to wrap around Steve’s back, laying a flat palm against the space between Steve’s wing blades and stroking along the place where his wings sprout from his back. The other trails down Steve’s back to settle at the base of his tail again, and Steve can’t help the sharp exhalation of breath the sensation punches out of him, or the way his hips rock forward into the space between Eddie’s thighs, even though it offers almost no friction.

Steve presses forward so close to Eddie that the barbells through Eddie’s nipples hook through the rings dangling from Steve’s own.

They both let out twinned cries of shock as their hooked jewelry tugs at both of their chests. Eddie drops his face into the crook of Steve’s neck, hips jerking more erratically as the jewelry in his chest pulls with a steady tension, and Steve begins to press a second finger into his opening.

“Fuck, Theo. You feel so good around me. Around my fingers. On my tail. With your hands on my back. Want to love you so hard.” Steve curls his fingers forward, brushing over the bundle of nerves buried there. Eddie grunts and thrusts forwards, pressing his weeping dick to the solid plane of Steve’s abs. “Want to blot out the sun for you,” he vows. “Stop the next day from coming—and every day after. We can stay just like this. All night. And all night can be all time. I can keep you here just like you keep me. D’you want that?” Steve feels like he’s set his heart out on a silver platter. Waits for Eddie to pick it up and devour.

Eddie nods into Steve's neck, now growing damp with tears. “Yeah. I want that, Angel. Want you to stop time for me.”

Steve makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest, desperate to be inside his lover now. But even though Eddie’s tolerance for pain is high, two fingers and some spit isn’t nearly enough to take him, and Steve doesn’t want to make his cock any smaller. He wants to split his pet open wide around him. Wants to drive him out of his mind with the perfect feeling of fullness that this cock alone can grant him.

“You’re doing so good for me, pet,” Steve gasps, pressing another spit-and-venom-slick finger to Eddie’s opening.

“Thank you, Master,” Eddie sobs.

The muscles of Eddie’s rim clench and flutter around Steve’s fingers in steady patterns. Steve pulls his hand back slowly, and as it draws back it shifts green and gold and black again, nails lengthening and thickening back into sharp claws.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me,” Eddie chants, rocking his hips in Steve’s lap as he whispers his pleas into the side of Steve's neck. A part of Steve wants to punish him for speaking out of turn. For thinking he’s earned the right to demand anything from Steve. But Steve can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now, so he wraps his clawed hands around his lover's hips, digging in so that his talons and fingers dig into pale flesh and leave bruises and pinpricks of blood littering the surface. Eddie gasps—the sound pulled out of him like he’s been woken from a deep sleep—as Steve bodily lifts him, positioning his stretched-out hole over Steve’s dick, and watching him sink like a stone onto it.

Eddie has lost all control of his limbs. Sits in the cradle of Steve’s arms and lap limply as Steve rolls his hips up and begins to set a slow pace between them. Their piercings are still hooked together. Every thrust that’s just a little too forceful pushes a surprised burst of air and laughter from one or the other of them.

Eddie’s hands continue their idle petting over Steve’s back, clenching against the base of his tail, stroking over the place where his wings meet his back. Steve trembles, a constant stream of soft breathy sighs that sound desperate to his own ears slipping out between his lips. He feels light all over. High on his lover’s touch. So much feeling and sensation that Steve can feel it start to leak out of him.

He pulls away from Eddie with a gasp when he feels the place where their chests meet begin to grow damp. The barbells studding Eddie's chest slip free from the hoops of Steve’s own with a painful twist. Eddie cries out, ragged and shocked. Steve echoes the sound in ecstasy.

Eddie’s head is still hidden in the side of his neck, but when Steve looks down at his own chest he can see his tits have grown heavy and swollen, nipples leaking milk all over him and the tip of his dick is forming a bulge in Eddie's belly. The sight is overwhelming, and Steve vibrates with the gravelly rumble that passes through him as he bucks up into his pet with punching thrusts.

“You’ve made another mess of me, love.” Steve whispers, low and dark, in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything in response. Makes a small questioning sound into the side of Steve’s throat and pushes further into him. Steve pulls him back by the hair, forcing Eddie to look down at where he’s dripping from his chest. “You gonna clean this one up too, pet?”

Eddie answers by dipping his head down wordlessly and pulling a nipple into his mouth. His tongue pokes through the ring and tugs—pulling a yelp free from Steve's throat—before his wet mouth engulfs a dusky brown nipple. Eddie suckles at it gently, moaning as the taste hits his tongue. He swallows Steve’s milk down, and his chest aches as he feels it tugging through his ducts. His lover pulling his essence from him with greedy teeth and tongue and lip.

Steve could stay here forever. Gorging himself while he feeds his lover. Fucking his fill while his heart beats in his chest at a steady pace. A slow drumbeat of affection. All he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears, Eddie’s whining moans against his chest. Not even the crickets or the wind enter his awareness. Wings folded around them, all there is in Stephanotis’ world is himself, and his pet. His love. Greedy and divine.

Eddie’s head grows heavy against his chest, and Steve takes all of his weight into his arms. He’s still fucking into him, soft and slow. Not in any rush to chase after his release. Time passes without measure, but after a while the breast Eddie is latched to runs dry, and Steve coaxes him free to meet his gaze.

His lover's eyes are heavy-lidded and dazed. He looks like he’s floating high above and far away, and the only reason Steve wants to bring him back down to earth is to have him in his arms.

But Steve can fly. He can meet him where he’s at.

Eddie’s breaths come in shivery gasps, and he seems unaware of the way he’s rutting forward, seeking friction against his flushed red cock.

Steve takes mercy on him, reaching down to curl a scaled claw around his length. Eddie hisses at the way the scales catch along the sensitive skin of his shaft. His hands keep roaming over Steve's body—now following the curve of feather and wing. Stroking along the bones that run through the body of them. Petting carefully at the feathers that tinkle and glitter around them.

Steve strokes his hand over Eddie’s length with a tightening grip as he feels the pressure in his own groin grow tighter and tighter. He feels ready to burst apart. Explode into a cloud of gas and light and stardust. Twin stars on the way to collapse. Steve scrapes the talon of his thumb across the head of Eddie’s cock and his pet screams, long and drawn out, voice going hoarse as he comes and comes, white spunk spurting from the tip of his cock and drenching Steve’s hand. His hole tightens and clenches around Steve’s thick length, and Steve breaks, following him over the edge.

Steve bucks his hips restlessly as the knot at the base of his dick swells and ties them together, and his cum keeps pumping into his lover—making him full and bloated on Steve's love.

Steve tightens his wings around them, blocking out the moonlight. He brings the hand covered in his lover’s release to his mouth and licks it away carefully, groaning at how his love tastes on his skin; stuck in the webbing of his fingers.

Eddie stays curled against his chest, head resting over Steve’s heart.

“I missed you,” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s hair, brushing a hand through it. “The house is too quiet when you’re away.”

Eddie looks out from under the curtain of his hair, blinking up at Steve slowly. “What if you come with me next time?” His words are slow and sleep-soft.

“Oh, Theo.” A melancholic note bleeds into Steve's tone, and he drops a gentle kiss on Eddie’s temple. “Thought you didn’t want to share me?”

Eddie rubs his forehead along the crook of Steve’s shoulder, leaving two quick kisses on what Steve knows to be Eddie’s favorite scales. “You could be asleep the whole time. Could put you on display during the shows.” Eddie trails a line of kisses down Steve’s clavicle. “Everyone can see.” Noses at the pick hanging at Steve's throat. “No one can touch.”

“If you think I’m letting anyone get their hands on you while I’m right there—“

Eddie wiggles in Steve’s lap, shoots him a devilish grin. “We can find a club. Put you in a corner. You can watch as everyone has their way with me.”

Steve growls, fisting a hand in Eddie’s hair. “Careful, pet. Doesn’t look like you’re up for another round.”

Eddie whines, hips rocking restlessly in Steve’s lap. “Please, Angel.”

“Shh, settle.” Steve tucks a strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Let’s get you to bed, love. You must be tired.” Steve loops his arms around Eddie’s thighs and lifts him as he rises, careful not to drop him and tug his knot free. Eddie’s head rests against his shoulder, and his arms come up to loosely circle Steve’s neck. Steve unfurls his wings from the cocoon around them, letting them hang at rest as he makes his way to the staircase that leads to the master bedroom.

When they get to the room, Steve settles at the edge of the bed, keeping Eddie tucked against him like the favored pet he is. “You’re so good for me, Theo,” Steve purrs. They both trace idle patterns into the other’s skin, Steve careful to keep his touch light so as not to break skin—especially while Eddie’s blood is thinner from the venom still working its way through his system. Steve considers switching his hands back to human form, but knows that even when they’ve finished playing, Eddie still revels in the edge of danger Steve’s touch carries.

Steve wants to ask how the tour went. Wants updates on everything the band did and saw together. A jealous corner of his heart wants to hear what he and their backup guitarist got up to on the road—Steve has suspicions of the man’s true nature that he’s chosen to keep close to the chest, but if Eddie is going to bring him along the next time around, that may be a door he has to open. The hungering instincts of his base nature want to feed on the stories of Eddie's exploits with fans and groupies. Theodore Munson has such a beguiling nature for a mere human, and Steve always sucks down recollections of his hedonistic adventures with ravenous delight.

But Eddie is close to snoring on his shoulder. Still has a thick cock shoved up and knotted inside him, and looks like he could do with a bite to eat. Catching up can happen later.

When the swell of Steve’s knot finally recedes Eddie is fully dozing on his shoulder, a thin trail of drool forming there. Steve carefully pulls his love off his softened length, watching with rapt fascination as his cum began to seep out of him. Eddie whines in complaint, eyes blinking open as Steve arranges him on the bed. “Don’ wan'you to leave, Phan,” Eddie mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll be right back. You won’t even miss me.”

Eddie grumbles, turning onto his side. “Always miss you.”

Steve chuckles as he steps away, crossing the room to the cabinet where he keeps all their supplies. When he comes back he uses two human fingers to carefully scoop the cum that has started to trail down the back of Eddie’s legs back into his gaping wide hole. Eddie groans, nuzzling into the pillow underneath him.

“I know you want to stay full of me. Want me to stopper you up with my love. Wake up slick and wet and open from my cock and cum so I can just slip inside you again? Or maybe I’ll use you while you're still aslumber. You still owe me an orgasm or two to even things out, pet.”

Eddie moans. There are few things he enjoys more than the sensation of waking to Steve fucking into him.

Steve smiles and presses a soft kiss to the knob at the top of Eddie’s spine, before slipping a thick, golden plug into him. Inlaid at its base is a smaragd jewel that catches and shines like Steve’s eyes in the light.

Though Eddie says it’s impossible for any jewel to compare.

Once the plug is in place, Steve picks up the damp cloth he’d collected and wipes carefully at the trails of dried cum there. With a second cloth he cleans away any and all traces of blood on Eddie’s chest, ass, and thighs, gently smoothing antibacterial cream over them as he goes.

When all is said and done, Eddie is a soupy mess in their shared bedsheets. But it still isn’t enough for Steve. He climbs onto the bed and gathers Eddie into his arms, so his back is flush to Steve’s chest. Steve grabs the glass of water he'd deposited on the bedside table and carefully presses it to Eddie’s lips, encouraging him to take a sip.

“Go on, drink up, love.”

Eddie gulps it down with giant, greedy swigs, gasping when he gets to the end and letting out a small burp and satisfied exhale.

Steve laughs, and grabs the snack bar he’d brought from the cabinet and hands that over to Eddie as well. “You’re so good for me, Theo.”

Eddie leans his head back against Steve’s shoulder with a dopey smile. “Not doin’ anything, Phan.”

Steve drags a knuckle up and down the length of Eddie’s arms and whispers, almost to himself. “You’re letting me take care of you.” Steve sweeps the hair away from the back of Eddie’s neck and presses a kiss to his nape. “There’s a time when you wouldn’t even have let me try.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Hard to trust a demon.”

Steve chuckles. “Oh no, pet, it’s easy to trust a demon. You know exactly what they want. It’s hard to trust someone that loves you. They’ll surprise you every time.”

Eddie turns in the circle of Steve’s arms and stares at him intently. “You’re the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

A tear slips down Steve’s face unbidden, and he spares half a moment to wonder what color it is. To question after its source. He smiles back, wistful and fond. “And you, mine, Theo.”

The moon fades behind the clouds, and light begins to creep along the horizon. And an angel and his monster fall asleep.

A/N: I genuinely went a bit crazy while writing this, and I've got lots of ideas for other fics in this universe, so watch this space for more demon!Steve filth and devotion 😈

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #monster steve harrington #read writes #10k of some of the most haunting smut i've ever written #i'm genuinely so proud of it though <3

[sxf-rarepairweek]

hello everyone!! i wanted to give a huge THANK YOU for joining us in celebrating the rare pairs of Spy x Family! to everyone who submitted and to all who have read or shared or commented, thank you so so much!!! this last week and everything leading up to it has been so filled with excitement and anticipation it's hard to believe it's already over.

i'm so so proud of our little community and how many works we've received! as of typing this there are 25 total fanfic submissions (23 works on the AO3 collection (+1 including chapters for each prompt) +1 submitted on tumblr), 9 pieces of fanart, 1 gifset, and 3 headcanons for a total of 38 submissions!!! it's been an incredible turnout, please give yourselves a pat on the back!!

we've reblogged all the submissions we've found, so if yours hasn't been shared yet, please shoot us a dm/ask either here or on @sxf-rarepairs or @ this account so we can reblog it!!

REMEMBER!! even though the Rare Pair Week itself is over, late submissions are always welcome! as they say, rare pair week may be over, but our love for them goes all year long uwu i have a fanfiction or two i'm planning on finishing and submitting myself, so please don't hesitate! this was so much fun that we at the Spy x Family Rare Pairs discord are already planning more events, so please stay tuned!! if you love rare pairs or even if you just have one you ship ironically (for now), we'd love to have you! there's plenty of seats here at the brainrot circus 💜🎪

once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH for making this week a success!! <333 if you'd like to see more charts and statistics, there will be some based on this year's rare pair week below the cut!

hello, welcome to under the read more, because it was already getting quite long!!!

first off, i know i said the number of submission types we received before, but here it is in pie chart form! it's easier to visualize it this way and i think it's fun nwn

plus i made a chart for the totals of submissions each ship got! loid x franky was the most popular, with a whopping 7 pieces!! and there are, of course, plenty of singular works for other rarer pairs (9, to be exact! that's like half the total number of ships!!) i think i had more ideas for other charts and statistics but they have unfortunately fell out of my head in the span of time between starting to write this and actually making the graphs and posting it 😔 so if y'all have any ideas or further questions about this year's week, feel free to send them over!!

if you've read this far, thank you again!!! hope to see y'all in future events! 💜

#spy x family #sxf rare pair week 2024 #sxf rare pair week #sxf rare pair #sxf #sxfrpw2024 #spy x family rare pair week #spy x family rarepair week #i'm a lil bit really late but yknow #i haven't made charts like this in years so it took me some time actually lmao #but i really wanted them! #also thank u icb for providing me with the phrase brain rot circus in reference to the server (specifically our brand of yuriloid brainrot) #i want to use it all the time now #from aster

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (final part)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are happy. Chrissy and Robin are happy. Jonathan meets Argyle. Everyone is happy!

Part one, part two, part three, part four part five part six part seven part eight link to Ao3

Word Count: 1100

Warnings: So sweet you'll get a cavity tbh, Jargyle (because why not), they are idiots one last time, also more Gareth!

Author's Note: Awww, it was emotional to close this one out! Thank you to all who have read and followed along. I can't believe this was only going to be 2 parts at first. I am a FOOL with Steddie brainrot. Until next time!!

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Eddie said he’d gotten him a gift, but it sure as shit wasn’t this. 

“Oh, my god,” Steve said, holding it up to see it in all its glory. A t-shirt with words printed over a rainbow across the chest: Steve & Robin - Not dating, just gay and codependent. 

“Obviously, I have one for Robin too,” Eddie said, tossing Steve a second shirt. 

“Oh, my God!” Steve repeated, laughing this time. It was perfect and so incredibly weird. He couldn’t wait to model them with his best friend and take the most ridiculous not-couple pictures of all time. “This is - I mean, Jesus! I love it, but would you let me be the impressive one for once?”

Eddie looked Steve up and down, then smirked. 

“With those abs? Don’t worry, you’re still the impressive one here.” Steve blushed, then sat up in bed so he could put the shirt on, but Eddie stopped him. “Woaaaah there, what are you doing? You can’t cover up, I’m enjoying the view.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“You’re not going to let me use the gift you got me?”

“Not yet,” Eddie replied. “I’m actually kind of regretting the whole thing now. You should probably never wear a shirt ever again. Can I have it back actually?” Steve chuckled, then smacked Eddie playfully on the arm.

“No way.”

“Steve, you wound me," Eddie joked. "But fine, as you wish."

Eddie and Steve had been official for 2 months at this point, and everything was kind of perfect. They each continued to work their respective jobs, and with their added happiness came enhanced customer service. 

Bob was happy - both for Eddie’s shift in demeanor as well as for the business. They were doing great! Plus, he got bonus points as a step-dad for introducing Will to Eddie and the shop. Will came to visit a few more times, and this time he got to talk to Steve, too. It was clear that seeing a happy gay couple was important for Will. He hadn’t seen much of that in his small town, so seeing Eddie and Steve be so grossly into each other was refreshing. 

And gross.

But mostly refreshing!

One day, Will’s older brother dropped Will off at the shop, introducing yet another cool person into the friend group - Jonathan. By then, Eddie had succeeded in making Argyle his friend, and the two of them spent many nights smoking and watching those stupid stoner comedies together in Argyle’s weird, confusingly giant house that he somehow lived in. 

Seriously, how did the guy have a house like that already? How did he have the money to travel so much with Chrissy? Her show was good and all, but it couldn’t possibly be getting her that much income. 

In any case, Argyle and Eddie were buds, so Argyle also happened to be around when Jonathan walked into Ink About It. 

The bromance between Jonathan and Argyle was pretty much immediate. Eddie would have felt mildly jealous about it if he hadn’t noticed some very familiar (aka queer) vibes between the two. Perhaps Will wasn’t the only Byers grappling with their identity, that's all Eddie was saying - but it was just speculation. Eddie kept his mouth shut (except to Steve, obviously, who fully agreed). In due time, as with anything else. 

So then they all hung out - Chrissy, Jonathan, Argyle, Steve, Eddie, and Robin. They’d formed quite the friend group - all of them getting along with each other beautifully. Argyle even hosted a road trip with the squad in his giant pizza van (???) so that they could all surprise Gareth at a Corroded Coffin show.

That night was epic, and it finally cemented Robin and Chrissy as girlfriends.

After their date, they’d both been super into each other - undeniably so. Yet, because Chrissy was so often moving around, they’d decided it was best to just stay friends. 

Yeah. Eddie and Steve knew that wouldn’t last very long. 

It still lasted longer than it should have, and the pining was rampant. Every time they all hung out, the two women wouldn’t stop staring at each other, cracking jokes, and giving everyone else in the room ample opportunities to share knowing glances…

And then they went on the road trip, and they got super drunk, and Robin tended to speak a lot more freely when she was intoxicated. 

She professed her love to Chrissy on the dance floor. 

It was a bold move, but it paid off. Chrissy and Argyle extended their stay in Hawkins, and Robin and Chrissy became an official couple. 

Coincidentally, that night was also pretty huge for Eddie and Steve. Firstly, because Chrissy and Robin had dropped the “I love you’s” before they had, which felt kind of ridiculous, considering Eddie and Steve obviously loved each other. 

“The fucking lesbians stole my thunder!” Eddie yelled from the bar, watching Robin and Chrissy hug each other on the dance floor.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, amused at his boyfriend’s antics.

“Ladies and Gentleman!”

Gareth’s voice boomed from the stage. The band had taken a quick break, but were back on. Eddie grinned, then grabbed Steve’s hand.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get closer.” They wandered through the crowd (past Chrissy and Robin) as Gareth continued. 

“We’ve got a surprise for you all. You see, my boy Eddie Munson requested we play a special song tonight. So, this one’s for you, Flower Boy. Lord knows we wouldn’t play this for anyone else.”

Before Steve could even process what was happening, the band began to play. It wasn’t metal, it was -

“I Melt With You,” Steve said once he recognized it. “I love this song.”

“Iiiiii know!” Eddie responded, laughing. He pulled Steve into him so they could swing along to the music. “This was my whole master plan. Was gonna have them play this and tell you I loved you and it was going to be this whole beautiful moment but then Robin-”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupted, laughing. Eddie’s jaw dropped, and then he facepalmed. 

“Oh my god I totally just said it without meaning to,” he said. “I’ve been holding out for WEEKS and -”

“You’ve loved me for weeks?” Steve asked, touched. 

“Well, yeah,” Eddie replied. “Duh.” His eyes bugged out on that last word, his voice taking on a goofy, boyish cadence. Steve smiled.

“You’re so ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “And I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, grinning.

“Duh,” Steve replied, attempting to mimic Eddie’s response from before. “Robin didn’t ruin your big plan, by the way. That was all you.” Eddie chuckled.

“You still love me though,” he said. Steve nodded, and then they were kissing. 

I’ll stop the world and melt with you.

Yeah. That song pretty much said it all.

Everything felt just right🌹

-------------------

Check out my Masterlist for other fics/content!

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#flowers and ink #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #will byers #argyle #jonathan byers #bob newby #gareth #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #jargyle #writing #st fanfic #eddie munson x steve harrington

[sssammich]

fanfic writer questions

Thanks for the tag, @foibles-fables

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

i'm at 122 right now (wahoo!)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

794,634 (i am on a mission to 1 million in the next couple of years)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

well i've been around many a fandom block, but i'd say for current brainrot:

supergirl (mostly supercorp, but i have a smattering of rare pairs because women, amirite?)

swan queen

bumbleby (i also still have so many rosebird dreams i'll get there someday)

makayuro (with a smattering of rare pairs also because women, amirite?)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

well unsurprisingly, ever since plopping down on supercorp fandom, the numbers have been from there. but shoutout to my victorious fic from 2012 holding strong lol

evergreen, closest i get, not for nothing, you've got mail, and one way or another

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes yes absolutely!! sometimes i am late and sometimes i just leave it in there so i can have it stay unread but anyway i try to respond and i appreciate everyone who sends them to me. i have historically been a oneshot writer so it's been nice also to get comments on wips!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh shoot angstiest ending?? well i think i would say my supercorptober ficlet about memory loss of sorts might tick that (it ends kinda idk open but not bad, i will say)

but then there's also this one old soccer RPF i wrote that's more, idk, poetry than any real fic about one of them leaving lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

the happiest ending? i mean all of them, i reckon. if they end up together or have a promise of together then they count lmao

8. Do you get hate on fics?

uhhh none that i've seen? i mean if it's in the comments, no? but if it's elsewhere, then also no? i have been fortunate in that way

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

OMG YES I AM FINALLY IN MY SMUT ERA

uh i reckon comedy smut for now (read DickFic here) but the day is young and my doc is empty so who's to say

but i have dreams for some sad smut because i'd like to develop the range LMAO

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

surprisingly, i do not. what i instead do is just little spin through five fandoms at any given time and just confuse myself that way

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

unfortunately yes. twice now. once was for my victorious fic that was used for a 5th harmony RPF lmaooo

and then on thanksgiving weekend, the first chapter of Crepe AU was posted by an anonymous for a The Wilds ship (but my friends rallied to get it taken down so i didn't have to send a takedown form to ao3 while i was traveling home)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope but that would be totally rad

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i love fic writing group work so yes! i have a series of sad angsty women that i have with my best friend in my revue starlight fandom, and then, of course, @sideguitars and i have 'humans in the storeroom' (that reminds me it's my turn to write the next part smh)

i also like jumping into writing sprints or writing exercises with folks (like a round robin)

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

let's not do this, i shan't pick amongst my children

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

so far all my wips are things i wanna finish and will do my best to finish. i have a couple of retired wips that will just sit in my ao3 forever and i have made peace with them, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i wanna say characterization, pacing, emotional resonance, and a simple and natural writing style maybe

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

action?? plot??? proper AUs lmao

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i do not because i find i butcher it and also then i cringe lmao

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh written for but never posted? hermione/ginny

posted for? god probably All My Children (bianca and maggie) when i was like a teenager hahahahaha

20. Favorite fic you've written?

sorry no can do i love them all because i wrote them and there are so many things i enjoy about them. but i will say that the writing events circuit i've done this past year (supercorp bigbang, bumbleby big bang, and swan queen winter solstice) are born out of a lot of labor of love and i'm really proud of the work i've done for them.

and not for a writing event, but i am also extremely proud of re:live for mayakuro fandom-- that one makes me think that if i never wrote for that fandom again, that that's a really good fic to end on)

No-pressure tags, of course: @sideguitars, @eqt-95, @fazedlight, @luthordamnvers, @vox-ex, and @waytooinvested

(yall have probably done this before but here it just in case!)

#fic writing meme #sam lore

[candles-at-sunset]

Quiet times aboard the Sunny | Zoro x reader

Hiii I have a one piece brainrot rn and i needed some fluff for this man. No warnings necessary it is just pure fluff :)) If you wanna look at my ao3 it is also on there so click here to go to it! Enjoy!

Summary:  It was a rare moment of peace on the sunny, and what do you do? you nap with a certain moss haired swordsman No pronouns are used so free for all !

It was one of those rare moments on the Thousand Sunny. No battles to fight, no marines chasing you. The waves were crashing against the base of the ship, the wind was blowing softly into the sails. It must have been early in the morning, the sky a dusty peach, barely any clouds with the sun sitting just above the horizon.

You had just woken up, the distant memory of last nights dreams fading as you walked onto the deck. Sanji had yet to wake up, therefore the kitchen was empty, and you decided to grab a coffee before making your way to your destination. After little debate, you decided to make two, one for a certain marimo, who was currently in the crow’s nest.

It had only been a few months since you two had finally gotten your act together and admitted you cared for each other. Stubbornness on his part and denial on yours, it took Nami and Robin cornering you in the girls’ room and forcing you to talk, making you realise how you felt. Not the type to wait, given that you lived dangerous lives and life could be cut short for pirates, you made a move. Of course, Zoro confessed in a very Zoro manner, a grunt and insults that he didn’t really mean, but you could read between the lines of ‘Idiot, don’t ask such dumb questions’ when asking him how he felt. You can admit he was getting better though, small acts of affection that showed he truly did care. An occasional touch that lingered longer than it should, sitting closer than usual, which only grew bolder as time went by. Now it was a hand on your lower back whenever he was near, a light kiss on the top of your head in greeting or when leaving the ship separately. He would hold your hand whatever chance he could get, always wanting at least some form of contact with you if possible. He was opening up, you were warming that guarded heart of his, no matter how much he tried to deny it at the beginning.

As you make your way up to the crow’s nest, the closer you got to the hatch, the louder the clangs of workout gear grew, indicating that despite it being so early, Zoro was already in training mode. You open the hatch, and your suspicions were confirmed. There he was in all his shirtless glory, lying on the bench, lifting what seemed to be a bar with enough weights on it to make an elephant look weak.

As not to disturb him, you set the drinks on the floor and close the hatch, sitting by it just to watch him. He has come so far since you first met him. Luffy had found you whilst causing havoc Loguetown, and since you were already an outlaw, you helped him in his escape from the marines, which lead to him asking you to join the crew. And it was the best decision of your life.

Each day Zoro got stronger, closer to completing his goal, and after the two years you were separated, his training has definitely paid off. His body was thicker than it was when you first met, more muscular and defined. The scar from Mihawk still evident, his shoulders were wider, his chest too (much to your pleasure) and overall, he just looked so much stronger. As you continued to watch him, you focused on the muscles of his arms tensing with each movement, and the concentration evident on his face. It was a shame he was lying down, as you aren’t able to see those back muscles at work, which make you drool every time you see them.

In the midst on your daydream, you failed to notice that Zoro had stopped, and was now sitting up on the bench, facing away from you. The lack of noise brought you back, seeing your partner had sat to rest. Getting off the floor, grabbing the mugs of coffee whilst you did, you make your way over, the bare pads of your feet making little to no noise, but you knew Zoro was aware you were here.

Setting the mugs down on the bench at the edge of the crow’s nest, you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, head against the top of his, embracing him. You place a gentle kiss on the crown of his head and mutter ‘Morning Zoro’ and hold him slightly tighter.

His hands come up to hold your forearms as he hums, stroking you softly with his thumb. After about a minute of you holding him, he grabs your arm to pull you around him, so you now face him. He tugs at you a bit more, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You comply with no argument, wrapping your arms around his neck, legs straddling his lap, handing over his hips. You press your lips to his briefly, just wanting to be close to him.

‘Bit early for you to be up, you ok?’ his voice breaks the silence, the morning roughness evident in how deep he was speaking.

You nod your head ‘Yeah I’m fine, the bed just felt lonely without you there. I hate when you’re on watch duty’ there was a small pout evident on your lips, which causes him to chuckle slightly. He leans forward to kiss your lips, which instantly made your lips curl into a smile again.

Leaning back, he looks into your eyes and mumbles ‘We can go back to bed if you like, or we can nap up here. No one will be awake for a little bit, we have time.’

Nodding your head, you reply ‘Hmm, can we nap up here? I don’t wanna go all the way back down yet.’

You move to get off his lap, allowing him to move and lie down on the floor towards the edge of the room. He lies on his back, one arm tucked under his head, the other open as he looks over to where you’re standing and motions you over.

You tiptoe over, leaning down to lie beside him, you head resting on his chest, you arm resting on his abdomen. With you next to him, his arm comes round to rest on your waist, fingers dancing below your shirt to brush against your skin. You sign in content, feeling so warm and at peace, here in your lovers’ arms.

On the brink of sleep, you hear the almost silent mutter from Zoros’ lips, ‘I love you, (y/n), and it’s to those words you drift off into a deep slumber.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It isn’t until the sky is bright, and the sun is high when you awake from your nap. The sun was shining on your eyes, forcing you to squint them shut tighter as you bury your head deeper into your makeshift pillow. With a whine, you bring you arm to tighten on Zoro’s abdomen.

‘Hmm… it’s too bright. Zoro turn off the sun’ all you get in response is a chuckle from underneath you, the motion rocking you a bit. His hand, still resting on your waist, makes subtle patterns on your skin as he replies,

‘You wanted to stay up here, love. If we went to your room, we wouldn’t have this problem’

‘Yeh but we’d also have Nami and Robin giggling like schoolgirls when they’d see us’

Finally opening your eyes, you tilt you head up to get a better look at your lover, who just has a cheeky grin on his face, his one eye looking at you with such adoration. The hand that was under his head comes up to grab your chin, lifting it ever so slightly higher, stroking you as he draws you closer and leans down to press a brief kiss to your lips. You hum at the contact, shuffling to bring yourself upward to hover over him, deepening the kiss.

His hand comes up to rest at the base of your neck, holding you in place as he angles his head a bit before releasing your lips and nuzzles his nose against yours.

Looking into his eye, a tiny smile forms on your face as you cradle his cheek in your hand and whisper ‘Words cannot describe how much I adore you Roronoa Zoro, even if you can’t change the sun for me’

He scoffs at that last part ‘Babe, if I could I would, but that’s a little bit above my skill set.. for now’

You let out a laugh and whack his chest ‘Shut up, you dumb marimo, I don’t actually want that. I just want you’

His face twists from a mocking grin to a gentle smile as he moves a strand of hair from your face. ‘And you have me, so quit your whining’. With his comment, it’s your turn to scoff as you sit up facing away from him and stretch your arms above your head.

Big mistake.

Seeing his opportunity, he strikes and brings his hands to your sides, tickling and attacking you as you squeal and squirm, trying to get away from him.

‘STOP! ZORO NO, STOP AHA’ You manage to wriggle out his grasp and quickly move to get up, standing above him as he leans back, palms to the floor. Your laughter shifts to a huff as you calm down, the adrenaline leaving your body.

He has that stupid, adorable smirk on his face that shows victory which makes you go crazy. You look around the room, only to focus on the forgotten mugs of coffee you had brought up a few hours prior.

‘Dammit, I forgot my coffee.’

Zoro turns his head and spots the mugs on the side and huffs, ‘No worries, that dumb love-cook will probably make you another’

At the mention of Sanji, you gasp in horror as you realise ‘Zoro! We missed breakfast! Noooo I’m so hungry, do you think Sanji would make us something’ you had a comical pout on your lips that made Zoro want to kiss it away.

With a sour look on his face, arms crossed on his chest and a grumble he replies ‘Maybe for you, anything he’d make for me he’d just spit in’

Ignoring his comment, you grab his arms to uncross them and drag him over to the ladder leading down the to the deck ‘Come on we have to hurry, Luffy might have eaten everything in the kitchen again and I WILL kill him if he has’

Begrudgingly, Zoro complies as you make your way down. Whilst looking at your descending form, he thinks to himself about how lucky he is that you love him, how much he loves you and all you’ve done for him in the past in your adventures. He thinks of how you have continued to love him even after being separated for 2 years, how you have truly changed him for the better, opening his heart and letting him embrace to affection he feels towards you. God, what did I do to deserve you, is the first thought he has, and eventually follows you down and silently vows to follow you wherever you go, and to never let you go.

 Fin

AN: Thank you for reading! pls leave a like and comment if you enjoyed!! See you next time :))

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #one piece #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece oneshot

[summonerluna]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by: @aleheartilly

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 32

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 212,833

3. What fandoms do you write for? FFVIII, and recently Wild!Verse Legend of Zelda

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Second Time Around (42) (LoZ)

The President (36) (ff8)

Ain't No Sunshine (26) (ff8)

no quarter (22) (ff8)

Or From That Sea of Time (21) (ff8)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I am starting to. Because ffnet had a PM system instead of just a reply, my anxiety usually got the best of me and made me nervous to reply even if I wanted to just say "thanks! and I just used ao3 as a mirror site. Now that I am exclusively using ao3 and have a better grip on some of those anxieties, I want to interact more with people again and want to make sure people know how much I appreciate the comments.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Lazarus

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Since I mostly write one-shots and I don't know that any of them really have happy endings? The Successor still managed to have a fairly happy ending though despite the overall story being filled with death and angst.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not in the form of comments, but I know there are people who do not like me

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sometimes, but rarely anything x-rated.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? No, although I love imagining characters from different worlds crossing paths.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I am aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, thanks to the amazing @aleheartilly!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, with @irishais

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Squall/Rinoa, always and forever, and I think like 90% of my recent Zelink brainrot is because of all the Squinoa parallels they have in botw/totk!verse

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I don't know. I don't want to say Dissolve because I don't want to admit I won't finish it, but my headspace is SO DIFFERENT from where it was when I started writing that, I think the only way I could finish at this point is to restart it and I'm not sure I want to do that.

16. What are your writing strengths? Writing place. Some stories are character-driven, some are plot-driven, and I think I write location-driven more often than I don't.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Starting something new because of that ADHD need to chase dopamine when I still have a billion WIPs. And being too vague because I'm afraid of being overly descriptive so I swing too far in the opposite direction.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I have in original stuff, but not in fic.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I wrote Hanson RPF when I was a wee young tween, living in the days of dial-up and printing off fics on my parents' dot matrix printer because I couldn't stay online long enough to read them, and staying up writing until I heard my dad get up to get ready for work. Then in hs I wrote a few LotR things before Final Fantasy took over my life once I got to college.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Fifteen Minutes Old

Tagging: @msstarlight @suleikashideaway @irishais @angelosearch though if you see this please do it because it's fun!

#writing #fanfic #luna writes

[spurious]

fic writer 20 questions

I was tagged by @alienfuckeronmain & @nimuetheseawitch to do this one!

How many works do you have on AO3? 108. I need to add some ficlets to my collection but I've been slacking a bit on that, so.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 274,716

What fandoms do you write for? Star! Gate! At! Lan! Tis! The hyperfixation is strong ok. It's the thing that shook loose my half-decade dormant desire and ability to write, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Twenty Questions, 248 kudos 2. Ink and Wings, 221 kudos 3. Five Times Rodney (and John) Visit the Millers, 190 kudos 4. Solitary in a Wide Flat Space, 163 kudos 5. Abercrombie & Rodney, 151 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I really try to!!! One of the things that was not good about posting all my ficlets onto AO3 in quick succession was ending up with more comments than I could handle, so now I have a...backlog. Getting comments makes me feel so good though, and I just...want to honor the effort made with some of my own in return? Idk, I've talked about this a fair bit in a handful of posts but I'm just really not used to the amount of interaction I get in SGA fandom and I still feel.......very blessed lmao. Bleh sincerity on main how gross

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? We Are Standing On the Edge, a Jin/Kame fic about a road trip and the apocalypse which I wrote for @merionettes in a fic exchange in 2010.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics either have happy endings or implied happy endings? I like making good things happen to the characters I love so much. Sometimes after making bad things happen to them, but. At any rate, O I Think We Should Be Brethren is my personal happiest ending because of how long and hard a journey it is to get there.

Do you get hate on fics? I got a hate comment once, on the (in)famous Kanjani Cannibalism Fic.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Do I ever! I like to write kinky sex as a means of exploring and facilitating vulnerability. I also like to write blowjobs.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I've never written a crossover! ..............I don't think, at least.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I am aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A couple of my Johnny's fics have been translated into Russian and Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not to completion.

What’s your all time favorite ship? Yokohina, Sakura/Syaoran, McShep...don't make me choose between my children like this??? Sakura/Syaoran literally invented romance for my teenage self, like I am not kidding at how formative of a ship that was for me in my life. Also why I started learning Japanese, so. Yokohina will forever be beloved to me in the same way that Kanjani8 will forever be beloved to me, in a way that is (literally) tattooed into my flesh, in a way that influenced my life massively, in so many aspects. I will never not be thirsty for the two of them saying weirdly romantic things about each other in public forums, for them being the solid foundation upon which their group is built. For Yoko being a pigtail-pulling twelve year old boy towards Hina even as they're in their mid-forties. AND THEN THERE'S FUCKING MCSHEP. A ship that I knew about when it was popular and brushed off as an Any Two White Guys, Migratory Slash Fandom Thing. A ship that, when my wife and I started watching SGA, we said "haha wouldn't it be so funny if we ended up being all in on mcshep?" A ship that resonates in my heart in the most bizarrely intense way and shook loose the desire to write and create from its atrophied place in the back of my head. I love them. I hate them. They're perfect.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have about 25k of a later-years yokohina friends to FWB to lovers fic that I wish I could finish but the McShep brainrot is.........so strong. On the other hand, never say never?

What are your writing strengths? haha so much harder to answer this than weaknesses!!!!!!!!!!!! I think I can write good funny dialogue, which is amazing to me because when I started writing my dialogue was horrendous, just absolutely awful and stilted and I hated writing it so much! like it was a running joke between me and my best friend at the time that I could not write anything that sounded even remotely natural or like real human speech. guess that shows that practice makes perfect or whatever? idk.

What are your writing weaknesses? endings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ensemble casts/scenes with more than two people in them. plots more complex than simple romantic contrivance.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? nah. It always feels a bit fanfiction.net anime fandom to me?

First fandom you wrote for? speaking of fanfiction.net anime fandom....I wrote Sakura/Syaoran angstfic into a notebook when I was 13. The first things that I actually shared with other people were either Harry Potter or the fics I wrote about the boys at my church who were just unnecessarily homoerotic with each other in the way that only teenage church boys can be (iykyk)

Favorite fic you’ve written? guess. 🙃

Tagging: @sga-owns-my-soul @stargayatlantis @hearteyesmcgarrett @texasdreamer01

#i was very honest in my answers to this #which means i might delete it within 24 hours of posting #and also why it took me like three weeks from Phoenix tagging me to actually post it #also while grabbing the link to the cannibalism fic i checked what comments are still there and there's one that cracked me up #when i first got it and now which included the phrase “i don't really like 'murders'” #the quotation marks kill me every time #“murders”

[sareinadale]

please tell us more about this helsa series you are writing 👀💕

nonnieeee!! but it wouldn't be a surprise now, don't you think so?

okay honestly, i wasn't planning on working on a long helsa series, though i did have a similar plan with the 'marriage of convenience' trope as the core of the series.

what started out was really just a series of twitter banters with my friend that expanded into fully fleshed plots, with some spanning over a month or three depending on how far the plot develops.

truthfully, i've been yearning to find a writing partner who could match my writing style and be excited to write SO MUCH about a ship. while helsa initially wasn't my OTP ( yes, i started out as jelsa ), somewhere in 2022, i turned into an ardent helsa shipper thanks to my other friend.

ANYWAY, back to the series ( me and my big mouth can't hold it back anymore ):

the entire premise of the story takes place after the events of Frozen 1, but not until Frozen 2. her magic is still there, just not at the forefront as it did in the first movie. and oh, yeah, it's in the mid-1800s! there's also inspiration drawn from ( majorly ) the frozen musical, a frozen heart and a little bit of dangerous secrets.

others may have written something similar like mine, but this is really an extensive series of ‘what-ifs’ that mainly focuses on the aftermath of her coronation, her struggles of trying to be a good queen for arendelle and all the times she shouldn’t hang out with hans, who showed up on arendelle after serving his prison sentence for two years ( roughly ) – which led to her falling for his pretense like anna.

of course, there's a few original characters that we made for this series! besides that, i personally have a pinterest board dedicated to hans and elsa, alongside a spotify playlist that follows their entire journey :D

there’s also an element of hans’s morally grey side, which, as santino fontana said, hans isn't what he seems to be ( meaning he has personal motivations like any other people ) and my lovely friend who writes as hans has the most detailed lore on him and everything, and i honestly couldn't be luckier and so SO grateful to know them and write together ❤️

obviously, when we started plotting, we realized that their story's going to be LONG, and we've decided to break it down into three major acts. the second act is arguably going to be the longest and where we are currently.

so, the theme of the story is the title of the series itself: 'in hindsight'.

in hindsight is basically a sequel to a prequel titled 'shattering ice'. in this one, the story explicitly deals with her first visit to the isles and meeting the star-studded cast of the westergaards whom, again, my friend here has built – completely tragic, awful, and all things negative that shows who they are as a family.

also the prequel will serve as the starting point of their relationship because we don't want to jump on that chemistry building with haste.

right now, we're mostly focusing on in hindsight and pretty much pausing shattering ice. also, because the former became a full blown series, i had to upgrade my g-drive storage hahaha so all of their past plots and current ones are safely stored in there.

all in all, this series is arguably the most special endeavor i've ever done. it's got a TON of emotional realism in there, soft moments in the form of jane austen-esque longing touches kinda way, gut-wrenching angst and a bittersweet ending ( i'm not ready for the last part, but we've planned on how the series will end ).

even in spite of our busy schedules, we found time to keep writing out the replies, info-dumping personal headcanons of our characters and hyping each other whenever the ship had their fluff / angst moment. i seriously could not thank my friend enough, and i really appreciate her for all the helsa brainrots ❤️

and finally, the reason i've not put it up on AO3 is because i didn't want that invisible pressure of needing to update it. i mean, yes, it's still ongoing, but imagine if i just upload the complete series and voila? basically giving a delight to potential readers that the series is done hahaha.

i don't foresee we'll finish it by end of this year, even though we started out since june last year. but who knows, it could end well until the following year?

okay nonnie, there you go 🤓

#long answer #nonnie gave me a truth serum #i will die on this hill writing helsa until i'm old #i love them so much your honor #helsa #iceburns #sareinadale #prince hans #queen elsa #frozen fanfiction

[withclawandvine]

what we pretend to be chapter 3

Summary: Azriel was a veteran spy, well suited to the sneaking and solitude that comes with a life in the shadows. He was good at it. He wasn’t good at undercover missions, so he couldn’t hide his shock when new recruit and undercover specialist Elain Archeron was already seated at the conference table, looking beautiful as ever. And then it was dropped on them like a bomb: Azriel and Elain would be sent to the suburbs, posing as a married couple to gather intel on a suspicious man who, according to reports, was in communication with notorious arms dealer, Koschei Sokolov.

Author’s note: oh boy this has been a long time coming. i could blame it on my new job or a number of other Life Things but the truth is i’ve been suffering from bnha brainrot (which if you’ve spent any time on my blog, should not come as a surprise haha) but i really wanted to get this done so i could start working on stuff for elriel month this year! so please enjoy, and let the pining begin babeyy !!

Tags: SFW, undercover au, fake married

Word count: 2.1k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42105033

As soon as the deadbolt clicked into place, Azriel let himself sag against the door. “Fuck,” he sighed. “I thought they’d never leave.”

From the moment Brian and Lynn Forth had entered the house, a headache lurked at Azriel’s temples. Now, in merciful quiet and with nothing else to distract him, the pain pounced. Not for the first time, Azriel wondered if you could be annoyed into physical pain.

From her place on the couch, Elain looked at him with amusement dimpling her cheek. “They were only here for twenty minutes.”

Although he doubted Elain would lie about something so trivial, Azriel checked his watch. Sure enough, it was barely 8:00. That single conversation had felt like a small eternity, or like he’d died and gotten stuck in purgatory, atoning for his past sins on an overpriced couch, while his neighbors smiled through every sentence. It might not have felt so punishing had they learned anything significant, but as it was, the Forths were as vapid as they were irritating.

Lynn had prattled on about the widely-adored previous owners of the house and their eventual retirement to the coast. How eagerly everyone had anticipated and speculated about who would move in next, the disappointment when the previous buyers had backed out at the last minute. And finally, the surprised excitement when word got around that a young couple would be moving in. And young you are—about our son’s age, if I had to guess. There was a pause, Lynn clearly waiting for them to confirm or deny her suspicions, but Elain had merely grinned at Azriel while patting his knee, “Aww, she thinks you’re young.”

Azriel didn’t have to fabricate the fondness in the roll of his eyes.

“Thirty’s not that far off for you, you know,” he’d said, mostly sure it was true. He didn’t actually know how old Elain was. For all he knew, she was already thirty, but he knew that this was the time to be vague. It was better to deflect with a jest of his own than assign an exact age to her.  

“And she did mention the wife,” Elain added when Azriel rejoined her on the couch, this time sitting down across from her—the cushion still uncomfortably warm from Brian—instead of next to her. That was Alex’s spot.

Azriel would hardly consider information they already had on record much of a consolation, but Lynn's comment about the woman’s age was interesting. There wasn’t anything about that in the files. “If she really is about your age, it might be easier for you to form a connection.”

“Galkin will surely get in the way, though.”  

The poor girl seems lonely—hardly ever leaves the house, with or without Ivan. Lynn had said, shaking her head with a troubled frown. Elain and Azriel exchanged a glance, unsurprised by this revelation, but unsure how to probe further. Brian, perhaps observing the small exchange and misreading it as discomfort, had cut in with an apologetic grimace, Lynn, dearest, they’ve only been here a few hours. Let’s not drag them into neighborhood gossip just yet.  

Azriel drug his hands over his face tiredly before his fingers finally settled at his temples, pressing into the tender flesh.

“You okay?” Elain asked, taking care to keep her voice low.

“Just a headache,” he said, but it made Elain frown, as if he’d told her something deeply troubling.

And then she gave a bit of a jolt, “We haven’t eaten yet today!”

Lack of nourishment was one of several potential culprits; he still wasn’t going to rule out the neighbors.

Elain reached for the welcome basket Lynn just threw together! for them on their coffee table and pulled at the artfully curled ribbon holding the crisp cellophane wrapping in place. Azriel watched her set aside the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a scented candle, and a bag of locally roasted coffee before finding the list of her and Brian’s favorite delivery places and skimming it over.

“Indian or Thai?”

At the mere thought of fresh naan, Azriel’s stomach growled, “Indian sounds great.”

The dining table was still overrun with boxes, so they spread dinner out on the sofa table, promising they’d get to it tomorrow. It was unnervingly real—looking Elain’s messy hair and feeling the ache in his back and arms while they sat cross-legged on the couch, inhaling takeout too fast to talk. Here, inside the liminal space of a half-decorated room and low lamplight, Azriel really could just be somebody’s husband, procrastinating on unpacking.

But then he remembered that the boxes weren’t brimming with tchotchkes, and that getting the equipment inside ready, online, then securely stored could take all day. Whatever couldn’t be mistaken for a personal tablet or basic office equipage would have to be hidden away in filing cabinets or the closet. And that was just the beginning of tasks they had to accomplish to make sure the house was as unremarkable as possible.

Elain dunked a piece of roti in her aloo matar, “We need to meet the rest of our neighbors. Figure out who’s involved.”

“Or if they know anything,” Azriel added. “Even if they’re not working with Galkin.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “At the very least, Lynn seems invested in the neighborhood. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something.”

Luckily she was also endlessly chatty; getting her to divulge something wouldn’t be a challenge. Anything was better than what they had now. In the grand scheme of things, Ivan Galkin’s connection to Sokolov wasn’t a very significant lead, and one they probably only had because of the risk that came with doing business with someone new. They didn’t know the nature of the collaboration or what either man wanted from the other. They didn’t know what Galkin had to offer that made Sokolov decide it was worth the risk.

With the headache ebbing and his hunger sated, Azriel was painfully aware of his exhaustion. The kind that made his eyelids feel sticky with each blink, the normally thoughtless action becoming deeply unpleasant. It would be easy to blame it on the long day of driving and hauling and arranging, but in all honesty, Azriel had spent the previous night restlessly pacing around his apartment. Half preparing and half wrangling with his anxiety about the mission—about having Elain as his partner. Azriel could count on one hand the missions for which he’d had a partner. It wasn’t just his line of work that made him wary of trusting another person. He’d been a solitary creature his whole life. Hadn’t shared a space since his time in Special Ops, before Rhysand had plucked him out of the military ranks a decade ago.

Despite the anxiety urging him to do so, there was no reason for Azriel to push his body any further tonight. Their equipment wasn’t going anywhere, and even if it was set up, they hadn’t even determined an initial target.

He started tossing decorative pillows from the couch to the floor, but stopped when he felt Elain watching him. He turned to face her where she lingered on the stairs, brows wrinkled curiously.

“Don’t want to scratch a cornea on the beaded ones,” he explained. The one in his hands now looked promising—larger than the average throw pillow, covered in a soft suede.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” she said plainly. Azriel blinked at her, wondering if maybe she was messing with him like she had in the car, calling him baby and asking if he was into roleplay.

“We have a lot to worry about already,” she continued. Perfectly serious. “We can’t waste any of our energy on making sure the couch never looks like a bed, just in case people drop by and see it.”

Azriel could argue that people fought or fell asleep watching Sports Center all the time. But Elain was the expert and his spine knew he wasn’t twenty-two anymore, so he helped her fix the pillows and followed her upstairs.

The owner’s suite, situated at the end of the hallway, was decorated in the same earthy palette as the living room. Mostly neutral with rich woods, offset with more vibrant rugs and pillows of terracotta and evergreen. This was the room closest to being completely unpacked, except for the mound of boxes in the walk-in. The amount of clothes was concerning, more than Azriel had in his own closet. How long did the brass think this was going to take? There were half a dozen boxes just for him—suits and ties, jeans, athleticwear, a coat for every season, and finally, pajamas. He pulled the matching set out of the box, eying the baby blue and white striped fabric with disdain. After another moment of deliberation, he changed into only the pants.

Azriel finished getting ready for bed long before Elain, giving him time to situate himself on the side of the bed closest to the window, as close to the edge as he could manage without looking insane. He sat against the headboard, ankles crossed, staring at the communications device in his lap. So far, he’d only typed one sentence of his report, making a note about their visitors, and the small insight into the dynamic between Galkin and his wife.

What more was there to say? The neighbors smile too much and we can’t decide if we should get a French press or regular coffee maker tomorrow.

The thought of Amren reading an update like that almost had Azriel smiling to himself. He tried to recall any other details about the Forth’s visit, but the most pervasive memory was that of Elain’s hand on his knee, her thumb idly smoothing over the material of his pants, the touch warm and grounding. Azriel couldn’t quite remember the last time somebody had reached for him so casually and he had actually let them—much less been even marginally comforted by the gesture.

It shouldn’t matter. Not flinching away from her affections had served the mission. There was no use in thinking about why it was different, or what it might be like next time. Azriel had encountered plenty of beautiful women, even sought them out on occasion, at galas and buildings he didn’t belong in. Dousing suspicion with indulgent smiles and pouring honeyed words in their ears so they might fill his with secrets. It was a tactic he only used in moments of desperation, when subtlety was just as paramount as information itself, and there was no way of accessing someone’s computer or filing cabinets undetected. He needed to find that level of clarity now—let his body go through the motions and his mind focus on the mission.

He was sending his report when Elain stepped out of the bathroom.

Like him, she was dressed in pale blue. He wasn’t sure if the matching was intentional, because the color was where the similarities ended. Instead of pinstripes, Elain wore a silky nightgown trimmed with delicate white lace. Her thick hair had been loosely swirled into a bun on the top of her head, drawing even more attention to her exposed shoulders and the graceful lines of her collarbones. If Azriel had been able to draw air into his lungs, he might have laughed out loud.

One of her hands came up to fiddle with a thin strap, but it was as if she’d snapped her fingers in front of his face. The small, anxious movement dragging Azriel back to himself. Fuck, how long had he been looking?

He watched the ceiling fan spin while Elain darted across the room and into bed, only turning his head when he heard the rustle of the covers as she pulled them over her legs. The warmth in her cheeks had spread, splotching her throat and chest, in stark contrast with the cool blue fabric it disappeared into. Azriel’s eyes found the fan again, every muscle in his body as taut as the silence between them. Until Elain finally said, “Do you think we have time to stop at Target tomorrow?”

Azriel wondered if despite the mountain of clothing stacked in the closet, this was all Elain could find for pajamas. Summer still clung to the air, damp and stifling, but it wouldn’t be long before the wind chased away the humidity and started to bite. Surely whoever was responsible for selecting Elain’s wardrobe should have thought of that. Or at least of him, right now.  

“Sure,” he agreed, praying with everything he had that Elain would dismiss the strain in his voice as exhaustion. “Whatever you need.”

#my writing #elriel #elriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #what we pretend to be

[hybridempress]

Eden's Blue

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley can't separate themselves from humanity any more than they can separate themselves from each other. They shared meals together, they danced together, they went on vacations together, they slept in the same bed together, they kissed each other. Every form of human intimacy they have learned together, and they practiced it devoutly. It stands to reason, then, Aziraphale thinks, that they would probably enjoy having sex together as well, though his invitation takes Crowley by surprise. Author's Notes: Hey guys good omens season 2 hit me like a truck and completely demolished my previous 5-year-long special interest in my hero academia sooooooooooooo please expect to see a LOT more good omens fic from me in the very near future. I am autistic and I am enjoying this gay bible fanfiction more than I've ever enjoyed anything in my entire life basically Anyways, I love this idea that Aziraphale and Crowley have been learning to be human for 6,000 years and at the same time they've also been learning to love each other, and their love for humanity is inextricably linked to their love for each other, and human intimacy in all of its forms are very dear to Aziraphale and Crowley. Sex is just something that is so religiously loaded that Aziraphale hasn't attempted to touch it with a ten-foot-pole until now, and Crowley has been so down bad for 6 millennia that he just literally couldn't fuck anyone else. Jess and I talked a lot about the idea that Aziraphale suggests trying it because he knows how much humans enjoy it and he just thinks it would be a fun time for him and Crowley, but Crowley is so nervous and embarrassed and also super super emotional because he has actually wanted to have sex with Aziraphale for so long...(continued on AO3)

Read it on AO3

Join the Good Omens Brainrot Discord Server!

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #em rose.txt #em rose.doc #rated e for everyone #yurrrrrr

[sakumasmut]

I'm currently having the most massive Mayoi brainrot right now. Can I request for Mayoi finding his girlfriend on their shared bed wearing his shirt trying to get off with her little fingers and moaning for his hands (his hands are so hot please Mayoi take your gloves off and let me suck on your fingers already) and his dick? Maybe he was too busy to meet her so she gets needy. Better if it's raw (ahhh to have sex raw with Mayoi...) During sex he plans to pull out when he's about to release but it's too good so she just lets him do it inside anyways. Thank you!

Mayoi Ayase x Fem!Reader

tags/warnings: masturbation, fingering, vaginal sex, semi clothed sex, finger sucking

ao3 link

“A-Ah, Mayoi…”

You whined out your boyfriend’s name as your fingers dipped past your folds and into your wetness. You wore one of his button ups over your shoulders, the fabric clinging to your back and arms, soaked in your sweat. If only he knew how badly you wanted him at this moment. Mayoi was always busy with idol work, but after a few days in a row of him coming home late, you were feeling particularly needy.

You could just imagine his slender fingers in place of your own, reaching farther into you than you were able to by yourself. He would curl his digits against your muscles just right, before adding another to properly stretch you out. You did as such to go with your fantasy, whining and bucking your hips. Pretending wasn’t enough, you needed him to actually be fingering you. You needed him to make you come undone, and then when he was finished with his hands, you’d want him to press your body against the mattress before sliding his long cock inside your cunt to fill you up completely. Just the thought made you moan louder.

“Mayoi…”

You moved one of your hands to play with your breasts, rolling them in your palm and pinching your nipple while you fucked yourself onto your other hand. If only he were here, pleasuring you with his own hands.

“A-Anh, I need you! Fuck me, shove your cock inside me…”

“/N-Name/?”

Your entire body froze as your eyes turned towards the now opened door, locking with surprised blue eyes. Mayoi’s face immediately turned red, incomprehensible stutters coming from his mouth while he frantically tried to cover his face with his hands.

“I-I’m sorry!! I should have knocked!”

You blushed hard and pulled your fingers out of yourself, not expecting to have actually been caught masturbating. You kind of hoped that he didn’t hear you moaning his name, but at the same time…would it really be a bad thing if he did?

“I-I’ll just, w-wait on the couch until you’re d-done—”

“No!” You blurted out much too fast. Who cares if you sounded desperate, you absolutely were! “I mean, um, want to join me?”

“I-Is that okay?”

He peeked through the gaps of his gloves, and you noticed a tent in his pants had already formed. All the more reason to finally make him take care of your urges.

“Well, I didn’t get to finish, so you should help me.”

Mayoi nodded, and closed the door before cautiously approaching the bed. It was when he lowered his hands back down and took a seat next to you that he finally noticed what you were wearing.

“Uh, i-is that my shirt?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” You awkwardly laughed as you tugged on a sleeve, though it simply clung back to your sweat-soaked skin.

“I kind of…missed you.”

“R-Really?” He perked up, before his expression turned to one of panic.

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you?! But I watch you while you sleep every night! I-I mean—”

“Mayoi, you’ve done nothing wrong! You’ve just been busy with idol work, and it doesn’t always line up with my own schedule, so there’s been no time for…other things.”

You pressed a hand to his chest, letting your fingers dance on the cloth of his shirt.

“But you’re here now. So let’s make up for it, m’kay?”

Your hands moved downwards, gliding across his stomach until you reached his crotch. You then worked on unzipping his pants, eager to free his erection. His hands met yours, helping you to undo the restraints of his belt. You pulled his underwear down, allowing his semi-erect member to spring up, free from its confines. You couldn’t help but lick your lips, craving for that same cock to be inside you as soon as possible. You crawled into his lap, legs spread over his own to position your soaked entrance over his tip. Mayoi seemed to be holding his breath, and you paused in your movements to check on him.

“Am I going too fast?”

“Y-Yes—I mean no, er, I-I mean…a-anything you want is fine!”

You sighed, cupping his face with one of your hands to get him to look at you.

“Just don’t be afraid to tell me to stop.”

“O-Okay…” Mayoi nodded, calming down as you felt his breathing slow. You lowered yourself onto him, his dick parting your folds and easily sliding in thanks to how wet you already were. The ache you were trying to scratch finally felt relieved, the way his cock was stretching you out so much better than what your fingers and imagination could provide. A pleased sigh left your lips, and you moved back and forth to take more of him in. This was just the start though, it was time to really get what you wanted.

You began to bounce on his dick, pushing your hips up then back down to engulf his length. Mayoi carefully timed his thrusts to meet your hips as you rolled them back, trying not to make you do all the effort. His hands were on your hips, keeping you steady and making sure you didn't accidentally fall off him.

“Mayoi…” you mewled, “kiss me.”

He obliged, moving one hand to cup your cheek and leaning forward to meet your lips. The touch of rough leather on your skin contrasted with the sharp teeth that grazed your lower lip. He shyly prodded at your mouth with his tongue, and you eagerly granted him entry, sucking and moaning as he pressed his tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your hips continued to grind against him, letting him thrust in and out of you.

Mayoi pulled away with a gasp a moment later, your mouth still open and drooling. You were about to lean in for another kiss before you felt his other hand leave your hip and touch your cheek. Suddenly, he shoved his thumb into your mouth, making you instinctively close your lips around it in surprise. When did he take his other glove off? You weren’t against it though, and began to suck on it gently, panting as your saliva coated his long fingers.

“Y-You feel so good!” Mayoi stammered out, letting his hips move uncontrollably to match your quickening rhythm. “Your body is just amazing! I can’t believe I get to have it like this…”

You just moaned in response, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as you let him do more of the work. This was everything you wanted and more, thank the gods Mayoi had walked in on you.

“A-Ah, /name/, I-I need to pull out, I-I’m going to—”

Oh no he wasn’t. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trapping him in place. Mayoi let out a squeak as his thrusts stilled, and you smiled, pulling your face away from his thumb to talk properly.

“You can do it inside, I like the feeling.”

“B-but—”

“Mayoi, cum inside me, now.”

Apparently that simple command was all it took for him to lose his composure. He shut his eyes and gave you a few hard thrusts before he moaned your name, gripping your ass tightly as you felt something warm flood your insides. You shuddered and let your walls clench around his cock, your own orgasm milking the seed out of him.

You felt his warm, laboured breaths against your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around you now. You patted him comfortingly on the back until his breathing slowed and he raised his head to face you again. A heavy blush covered his skin, and you pressed your equally warm forehead against his.

“Mm, I missed you.” You giggled, and Mayoi gave you a toothy smile back.

#enstars smut #enstars x reader smut #ensemble stars smut #mayoi ayase smut #request #nsft es!!

[reneegayde]

Durge brainrot is devouring me tonight so I had to write a thing.

Tavri doesn't cope well early on (or at all) when her urges finally cause her to kill. Astarion isn't very good at helping. Early Durge/Astarion relationship but not yet romantic.

Warnings for: Gore & Vomiting & Durge Thoughts. Act 1 Dark Urge spoilers. Also an author very very out of practice. Also on AO3.

---

Such a beautiful work of art.

Tavri's senses flood back to her as if she is snapped out of a spell. First the vision, tunneled and blurry but gradually focusing on the sight on the ground before her. Blood. Viscera. Gore. Tavri looks at her shaking hands covered in the same. At first something in her head praises her; then the horror sets in. And the smell.

She had smelled death before. There were worse smells, but death was one that felt too disgustingly familiar, perhaps one of the only familiar senses in her head. This time, the horror of it all, the blood on her hands, the mangled corpse on the ground staring back up at her, and that smell makes her gag. She manages to stumble into the treeline before she can't force down the contents of her stomach, praying that she is far enough from camp that she doesn't wake her companions as she vomits until she tastes bile and her throat burns.

Come back to yourself, you wretched thing.

Tavri heaves again, coughing as she tries to catch her breath. It takes everything in her not to collapse, energy completely sapped. Every part of her trembles, going numb as she desperately sucks in air. She backs against a tree, sliding down the trunk and doing her best to recollect herself.

What in the hells is wrong with me?

"Tavri, darling," she hears distantly, and straightens with a heavy steadying breath. Footsteps approach and the voice is clearer. "I heard you run off, are you– Gods, are you alright?"

Her pulse quickens, scrambling for *something,* anything to explain away what happened and the state she was in. There was no denying it; covered in blood and looking unhinged. Astarion surely would have seen the mess. She nearly vomits again.

"I killed her," she finally managed, significantly easier than she expected.

"Well, yes, that much seems obvious," Astarion answers, completely unbothered, or if he is, he certainly hides it well. It isn't quite what Tavri needs right now. She lets out a slow breath in an attempt to ward off the knot forming in her throat

"This isn't me," she says, voice tight. "I don't remember…anything about myself, but…this isn't me. It can't be."

"My dear, we've all done our share of killing around here."

"Mindlessly, though?" Tavri sounds defeated, suddenly unable to look anywhere but the ground. "Gods, what's *wrong with me.?*"

"Oh, nothing much, darling," Astarion says nonchalantly. "Besides your *insufferable* need to be an upstanding person. Honestly, it's alright to live a little."

"If you aren't going to help, you can just go," Tavri nearly snaps. She'd sound convincing, too, if it weren't for the way her voice barely strong the words together. "Tell the others what I've done."

They can be the next victims. The camp can be drowned in red. You don't need them.

Astarion sighs. If Tavri isn't responding to his banter, he knows this is serious. He kind of hated seeing her like this. "Look," he says, gentler this time as he holds a hand out. Tavri narrows her eyes briefly but accepts the help up, stumbling a bit from the weakness and lightheadedness. He steadies her before continuing. "Whatever this is *clearly* isn't you. I know that, and the others do too. Well, most of them. The rest probably enjoy it too much to care."

It was Lae'zel, they both knew. He didn't need to elaborate further.

"You could always lie your way out of it," he suggests.

Tavri scoffs, stepping away. "Right. Explain away the gored body in the middle of camp. That will work."

"It will if you're convincing enough. Or are your morals too high for that?"

"Astarion."

He shows her his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright."

Tavri paces a few steps back and forth. Astarion watches curiously, still a bit surprised to see their *fearless leader* so worked up. "We can…we can blame a boar? No, that would have been noisy. Gods…"

"We? Oh no, this one is on you specially, my dear."

"Right, right," Tavri mumbles, mostly to herself. She stops her pacing and takes a deep breath. "I've told the others about this condition, maybe I can just explain what happened. Or what little I know happened…then everyone can leave if they want, and–"

"You're thinking too hard about this."

"Not helping," she reminds him.

"How about this: let's get you cleaned up, get the blood off of you so you don't look deranged, and get back to camp before the others wake up. Then you can just improvise.You're good at doing things without putting a single thought behind them."

Tavri holds back the urge to accuse him of projecting, but she doesn't really want to wind up in a sass battle in her current state. Instead she takes a deep breath, looking down at the blood on her hands and her clothes again. Her stomach churns with disgust at herself. "That blood isn't coming off anytime soon."

"To be fair, you always seem to be covered in blood. It's a good look, honestly." There's a flicker of a memory, that same sentence said in another's voice, but it's distant and warped. Astarion snaps her out of it. "Are you still in there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was just– Nevermind." She shakes off the uneasy feeling. "Astarion, I hate to ask–"

"I'll go hide the knife," he says, anticipating her question.

"Thank you." Her voice is nearly a whisper.

As he leaves her, standing there with the evidence of her actions, Tavri can't help the faintest of smiles. If she didn't know any better, she'd think the vampire actually cared for her. Anxiety made her heart flutter, wondering if he would get accused. He was the most likely suspect, after all.

She decides she won't try to hide. Her companions would either understand her condition or leave. She hoped for the former, but expected the latter, even if they were all in this little adventure together.

Instead of heading further into the woods toward the nearby stream, Tavri catches up to Astarion, and the two return to camp together.

Slaughter them all if you have to. Make art of their deaths.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dark urge #durgestarion #ch. tavri #ren writes a thing

[one-silly-cart00nist]

Sunset after the Rain [Mark/David]

(because AO3 is down and I was planning to post the sequel to this fic soon so here you go tumblr: my ode to the creek and the start of my Elders brainrot)

Rated: G Word Count: 5k Pre-slash, Original Side Character (Jackie's gf for plot purposes)

It was a sunny afternoon at the creek the day when the Elder’s rock was busy outdoors. For the longest day of summer the three friends prepared a special celebration—a campfire and a sleepover under the rock with a few special guests to shelter. 

It was a sunny afternoon at the creek the day when the Elder’s rock was busy outdoors. For the longest day of summer the three friends prepared a special celebration—a campfire and a sleepover under the rock with a few special guests to shelter. 

Omar, despite being quite the youngest in the group, captured the hearts of the elders easily through his love of comics and videogames. Now that the Overpass didn’t need a guard and he had free time to spare, he found himself frequently showing up at the Elder’s rock borrowing manga and listening in on the DnD campaigns. He didn’t quite have the confidence to join in. 

David insisted Tabitha and Courtney would be invited to commemorate their friendship formed from sharing the pain of part-time at the smoothie bar. Mark wasn’t quite thrilled about it—and was still taking his time to get used to David’s new passion for the Goth lifestyle. But the wound of almost losing his friendship over a petty grudge was fresh and so he caved.

Then there was Annie. While her anime consumption was more casual than the elders, her passion for singing OSTs and her cheerful intrigue for all things nerd made her a favoured company. 

And wherever Annie went usually followed… Jackie. 

Currently looming above David who has just excitedly been telling Annie about the new shop he found online selling all kinds of clothes to fit his new aesthetic. 

Mark observed from a distance. 

The cold stare of his glasses that reflected nothing, the panic in David’s eyes as he trailed off mid-sentence, the smirk that bloomed on Jackie’s face at the reaction, and finally, how it faded into a much gentler smile when Jackie took the spot next to Annie. He extended his hand towards Annie, pinkie, pointer and thumb sticking out—Annie copied the gesture as she slotted her fingers alongside his. 

Mark didn’t understand what it meant. 

Correction: he knew exactly what Jackie was showing was jealousy. Admittedly, he was familiar with that, even though he didn’t have a cute date to justify it. He just didn’t know what the sign meant. 

He looked at David again. He recovered from the scare quickly and was now back on his excited monologue, fists held up and his whole body bouncing as he talked. It was less noticeable than what it used to be when they were younger but Mark knew what he was looking at to notice it. 

Past the logs they collected around the campfire, Barry has just emerged from the woods carrying a couple of sticks to roast on. Omar was right at his tail carrying rocks to circle the campfire. The kid was taking his contribution so seriously. 

Tabitha and Courtney arrived a minute ago with loads of snacks and cola. Now they sat across from Annie and David and chatted among themselves. 

Mark has tasked himself with tidying up the rock to welcome so many people—it was gonna be stuffy anyway but putting away some manga shelves and life sized replicas was the least he could do. Now that’s done he found himself watching the life around him. 

It hasn’t been that long since the fight after which he spent weeks alone at the rock before he packed up and started hanging out at home instead where his messy room and the internet would distract him from the sorrow and guilt eating him up. 

He was just going to the Elder’s rock to borrow the last volume of Two Piece when he found Barry sitting there all by himself. He feared the moment but found relief when Barry said he wasn’t mad anymore. Mark apologised regardless. Spending that afternoon with Barry gave him courage to reach out to David too. 

He didn’t realise how much he missed them both. 

---☀---

“As the good hosts we are,” David spoke with enthusiasm, “we should introduce everyone. I’m David and I work at the smoothies with Tabitha and Courtney. Who wants to go next?”

Barry took the spot next to him and greeted everyone, claiming his turn. Mark scanned the circle to see where he could sit—they prepared more logs than necessary to use them as spare tables for board games. The other side of David was still empty even though Mark would need to carry a log all the way over and he didn’t want to look that desperate. There was space next to Jackie on the fallen tree log but Mark wasn’t so fond of that kid. He didn’t even invite him. 

He chose to sit on one of the spare logs in between Tabitha and Jackie. It gave him a direct view of David… 

David and his ripped off sleeves and just one of many chokers Mark definitely hasn’t been keeping track of. His hair started growing out even more now that he didn’t trim it to fit under the old helmet, and Mark recalls how he mentioned wanting it pink eventually. 

It’s been weeks. It feels like they met again in college—it feels like seeing Kenneth on that phone call. He changed so much. He grew up to be popular and handsome and not into anime anymore. David grew up to be popular and handsome too. 

With pink hair and edgy clothes…? 

Maybe that too. 

He looked really happy and confident in his skin. Sure he had been before—walking around the rock topless despite not being the type to work out required that kind of confidence already. 

Ah. He never really cared for anyone’s opinion. David always cared about personal joy and harmony first and foremost. 

Mark had to admit that he was happy for him, seeing him like this. Even if he was in two minds about his own feelings towards the new gimmick. 

He still loved anime and Mark’s DnD campaigns. If he wanted to play as a sorcerer instead of a bard now, that was not Mark’s place to complain. 

He smiled to himself.

Then he looked up, disturbed from his thoughts by the sudden silence. He noticed David’s eyes on him. His heart skipped a beat. And then he slowly realised everyone had their eyes on him like they expected him to do something. For a brief moment he panicked if he wasn’t saying all that aloud, but David soon cleared the table, cheerful as ever: “It’s your turn!” 

“Oh,” he scratched his neck awkwardly as he willed away the scarlet of his cheeks. “I’m Mark. I am the expert of all things anime… and…” his gaze travelled to David who listened to him too intently for someone who already knew him. “And I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole to you David.”

“Aw… We’ve been over that,” David waved his hand in dismissal. “But your apology is appreciated. I’m happy we’re friends now.” 

Mark swore he heard coos from at least one of the girls present and felt his cheeks heat up at the attention. If either one of them decides to tease him about it, or about how he stuttered through his apology when his attention stuck on David’s eyeliner, he will consider drastic measures. 

Next was Jackie. He waved at everyone and pointed at himself. Then he gestured with his hand what Mark assumed was his name because Annie filled in the silence with a verbal introduction. He signed more and Annie translated that he likes swimming and baseball. 

At the end he turned to her with a sign akin to a blown kiss.

Mark never had a reason to learn ASL but he wondered how hard it is. If it was any different from learning Japanese like he did in his free time—a completely new sentence structure and a thousand of signs so unlike the english alphabet.  

“My name is Annie. I like to dance and sing and… a lot more things… but singing OSTs with the guys is what brings me here tonight.” She smiled and gestured at Jackie, as she continued to sign the rest of her introduction. “Jackie is my boyfriend, I hope no one minds him here. We’re both from the other side of the creek.”

“What is it like on the other side?” David inquired. “That’s where Kenneth is from.” 

The sudden mention of Kenneth’s name had unwanted thoughts flashing through Mark’s mind. His dyed blonde hair and blue contacts. His room, bare of any trace of his origins. He was almost unrecognisable. And the crushing reality of David keeping contact with him and yet he never reached out to the rest. 

It wasn’t surprising it was David whom he remained friends with. Who wouldn’t… It hurt nevertheless. 

“Pretty chill after King Xavior was overthrown.” Annie said, then turned to Omar, “We thank Omar and his friends for that effort.”

Omar set his can of soda aside and wiped his mouth on his sleeve while keeping eye contact with Annie, then her boyfriend. “We faced Jackie in combat back then. So pardon my uneasiness. It’s been a lot to get over after all those years.”

Annie tapped Jackie to make him focus as she signed what Omar said. She smiled as she watched Jackie sign back. “He says it was fun and that he will be better prepared for a future water balloon fight.” 

He smirked at Omar and nodded. “We’ll see that fair and square.” 

Annie continued. “It wasn’t a matter of choice to be on Xavier’s side. No one believed Xavier could be defeated. If Jackie turned his back on the king he would be in serious trouble afterwards. And being a champion wasn’t so bad—he could keep doing what he loved.” 

“Where were you during the war, Annie?” Omar wondered. “I don’t think we passed you in our search for the flag.” 

“I was casted out of the creek before the war began…” she laughed. “I might have punched Xavier. More times than I can count. It was… uh… deserved… but it wasn’t so bad. My only connection to the creek was Jackie, which allowed me to sneak in and before that, to get away with more than a regular kid could. I can’t blame him for sticking to the king to the very end.”

“Hold up— What?” Tabitha drew everyone’s attention to herself. “You guys had a monarchy in the creek? Dude that’s— What.” 

“It’s kinda been a thing for a decade now. We grew up into the system, messed up as it is.”

“Queen Cheyenne was chill.” Annie narrated Jackie’s signs again. “If there was a problem we sought help with, she would help, otherwise she was just a teen hanging out with her best friend at the royal tree house. She took her status seriously and wished to expand her rule across the overpass but she wasn’t that persistent about it. Xavier was crowned a couple of years ago and that quickly turned into a whole tyranny.” 

“What happened to that Cheyenne?”

“The worst possible thing—she concluded she was too cool for the creek.” Annie rolled her eyes. “Could never be me.” 

“No one is too old for the creek,” Barry exclaimed. A chorus of agreements came from everyone while Tabitha and Courtney shrugged their shoulders. 

“I can stand behind that,” Mark joined in. “Except for when we’re in college somewhere far away. Because you guys have plans or whatever.” 

Tabitha and Courtney exchanged grimaces. “Yeah, let's not talk about that.” 

“Let’s dive into the juicy part.” Tabitha cheered, getting up to pass around the plastic bag. She sat down throwing her legs over Courtney’s lap. 

Her girlfriend grabbed a can of cola from her hands and popped it open. “Literally, we bought smoothies. But you have to pay in gossip!” 

“Yeah. Barry—has someone captured your heart recently?” 

“Uh. No…” Barry scratched his neck awkwardly. “My heart is being crushed by advanced bio summer homework.” 

“Booring…” Tabitha complained with an exasperated sigh. “You guys really do your summer homework?” she shook her head in disbelief. “David, you tell us what you’ve been up to.” 

“Well… I’ve been experimenting with my clothes. I really like the stuff you picked out, I never thought I would be so comfortable in this.” He smiled bashfully as he twirled a hair between his fingers. “It’s really growing on me.” 

“It looks really cute on you,” Annie said. Jackie gave a thumbs up. Barry also muttered something encouraging. Mark felt his voice stuck in his throat. 

David curled into himself but despite that he glowed with all the praise. “Thanks guys.” 

Even when the rest of the circle shifted attention towards the next person in line, Mark’s eyes lingered on his friend. He had to agree with the compliments. 

“Annie, what about you and Jackie? How did you two become a thing?” 

Mark wasn’t particularly interested in that but he found himself following the story as Annie spoke animatedly. “To be honest… I was never gonna tell him that I liked him. I would say so out loud because I knew he wouldn’t hear but I couldn’t let him know.”

That made Mark pause. It was beyond him why Annie thought she needed to keep her feelings hidden. It wasn’t like it would be weird to like him. They have been friends for years and Jackie was clearly interested in her if he kept coming back. 

David never had to ask him to show up under the rock on his birthdays or to speed watch his latest anime favourites so they could spend the next few days discussing them. But they also simped for anime girls together. It didn’t make sense. It brought so many questions Mark didn’t have answers for. 

“…All until Elisa noticed my crush. She thought it would be fun to tease me, to make me insecure, that Jackie would never like me back. I was so frustrated and Jackie noticed. I had to tell him. I didn’t know how to sign it at that time, so I just drew a heart on his chest and he returned the gesture.” 

“Aww that’s so sweet!” Courtney cooed. 

Tabitha howled beside her. “That bitch can suck it! Look who’s got a boyfriend now!” 

“Language Tabi! There are kids with us!” Courtney calmed her down.  

“Huh?” Tabitha threw a look at the circle until her eyes landed on the hoodie kid. Her gaze darkened and her sharp teeth flashed in a dangerous smirk. “Oh. Omar?”

Mark watched in disinterest as the kid’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Nothing of that sort.” 

Jackie signed something with a snicker that only Annie understood and chose to not share. If Mark had to guess those two knew of some non supporting evidence for the kid’s statement. Not that he cared. 

Could kids like him already have crushes? 

Mark didn’t even remember when he… no, nevermind. That wasn’t a crush. Whatever it was, which he couldn’t name, it was not a crush. He would have noticed sooner. 

“Does David want to share his romantic discoveries?” 

Mark shot his eyes towards his clearly panicking friend. “No. David doesn’t want to.” 

That was both a relief and a concern. He was better off if he didn’t have to hear about whoever David was interested in but the answer made him wonder—what was the point of such defensiveness if there wasn’t someone in his mind? 

He really, really shouldn’t have thought of that. 

---☀---

Annie tore a pack of chips open and threw a couple into her mouth. “Should someone set up the games?” 

“Suit yourself. What are we playing?” Mark jumped to his feet, happy to distance himself from the conversation. He lifted the tower of board games he carried outside the rock for the occasion. “The choices are endless.” 

“David promised us he would show us your DnD business,” Tabitha shouted from the back. 

Annie shook her head as she mindlessly reviewed the game collection. “We should play something non-verbal. Like double.” 

Annie lifted her head with a grin as she signed her idea to Jackie who signed back quickly. “You’re right I’m unbeatable. Not even Keun Sup could outspeed me.” 

“What about uno?” Tabitha suggested. 

“Do we want to have a good time or do we want to scream at each other until sundown?” 

“We could play cards?” Omar tried. 

“Have any of you heard of Kent?” Annie asked then. A couple of people shook their heads while Jackie showed a toothy grin. “We send codes to our teammates when we have collected an all-symbol combination and try to not be caught by the other teams. Sounds good?”

An excited chorus followed. 

“Grab a teammate and come up with a secret code.” Annie instructed. “I’m with Jackie!” 

“Calling dibs on Courtney!” 

Mark looked around hesitantly. The choices were running out quickly. Even Barry already teamed up with Omar by the time Mark made up his mind to ask him. 

Which meant the only person left was… David. 

“So what code should we pick?” David beamed at him. His voice dropped into an excited whisper. “A wink?” 

Very predictable, the code and the mannerism that had Mark leaning away for personal space all the same. “Uh… oh… Sure. Yeah. A wink will do.” 

Annie and Jackie set up the cards while the rest of the teams were discussing strategies, likely already having a vault of different codes to switch between as they played. Mark expected no one could compete with the excited duo but he held some naive hope he could win at least a few games once he grasped the rules. He hadn’t spent his entire life playing games for nothing. 

The game itself was more about attention than the cards. 

In the first round Mark had his last ace snatched from under his palm. It meant two things—he was left to observe instead of collecting like all the rest, and that Omar who swept his card was out of the round with him. 

The game was also about knowing people. 

He called out Barry pretty easily when he rapped his fingers on his thigh out of nowhere. That was a classic impatient Barry thing. 

Annie fared just as well in terms of catching people red handed. 

“Courtney, your make-up is so pretty today.” 

“Out! Tabitha is out!” Annie would exclaim cheerfully. 

“What? Not fair! Can I not compliment my girlfriend?” 

Somehow the banter only added to the pleasant experience. It built Mark’s competitive spirit and brought laughs and had the time fly so fast. 

“What’s your code even supposed to be?”

“We will never tell!” 

---☀---

The sunlight soon faded too much to see the cards in front of them properly and so the group of friends moved on to the main event of the night. Barry and Tabitha crouched by the campfire with crumbled newspaper and a lighter. Omar sharpened the roasting sticks quietly in the corner. Annie and Jackie set up an actual table to place all their food on. 

David and Courtney sat back engrossed in a conversation. 

Mark stood there idly as he tried not to look at them too much. 

He spent most of his childhood with Barry and David and Kenneth. He never looked to make more friends—he already had company that shared his interest in anime so what more could he gain. Not like he expected to ever lose either of them. They were supposed to be inseparable, if not for their shared hobbies then for the fact there wasn’t anyone else they would turn to. 

Now David had actual friends outside of the Elder trio. Mark was happy for him. At least he tried to be. 

But… It seeded a worry that David would no longer need his old friends when he found another place to belong like Kenneth did, would no longer need to settle for someone who’d been so hurtful towards him without realising. Mark wanted to turn back time and make sure David didn’t set foot out from under the rock on that fateful day. 

Would that mean he’d still sit here in front of them shirtless with his cape warming him against the chill of the evening and his helmet set down on his lap so he could lean his forearms on it and support his head? 

The mental image competed with the sight before his eyes until they faded into one. 

David with one knee supporting his head, hiding his choker and the front of his shirt. His hair flowing down the sides of his face, untamed even as he tucked stray strands behind his ears. The eyeliner only made his wide eyes more noticeable. Like it wasn’t hard to look away from them already. 

---☀---

As darkness covered the clearing and dimmed the view, Mark found it easier to keep his eyes and thoughts away from David. The campfire added a nice layer of warmth to the summer night and the roasted bacon and marshmallows brought the same warmth to Mark’s stomach. 

There was program as well—Courtney and Tabitha telling spooky stories that allegedly happened in the creek. Mark knew half of them from his own childhood, being scared while Barry and David always rushed into the adventure of finding out its truths. It was mostly Barry. David was curious and eager to learn but not so much a brave soul, sweaty palms always enclosing Mark’s wrist or sleeve. 

An innocent soul, even now. He was so easy to push around that Mark hadn’t even realised he had been doing so. 

---☀---

At some point during the night David pulled out a ukulele. Mark recalled hearing him practise at the rock a few years back but David back then was terrible and he couldn’t stand the noise. He must have practised a lot since then because he was nothing like the awkward off key performances of ninth grade. 

He played a melody that everyone at the circle knew as they all hummed along but among all the voices only David stood out to his ears. That part of his performance was still… less than charming. 

Mark supposed that was good. It was familiar. It was his David. 

---☀---

First yawn of the evening and the emptied supply of food slowly moved the program inside. 

Jackie slid under the rock with ease and extended his arms towards Annie whose eyes were already falling shut as she crawled in. He took off his cap and glasses before he climbed into his futon. It looked like they were both done for the night. Not like anyone else here could use ASL to help him keep up with the conversations. 

Omar set his futon underneath the anime figurines shelf. He flipped through the comics scattered nearby as he waited for the rest of the group to settle down. It wasn’t long until he was snoring nose deep in the pages. 

Tabitha tried to play cool as she challenged the rest to stay up the latest but ended up falling asleep in her girlfriend’s lap early on as well. 

Soon it was just Courtney and the elders. 

They formed a much smaller circle and kept their voices hushed so as to not disturb the rest. It felt weirdly intimate to huddle up—especially with David leaned against the wall by his left, not exactly leaning into him but close enough to let his mane brush over Mark’s shoulder now and then. 

Speaking in a whisper, David’s voice was much more stable and calming. “Is this the part when we tell each other secrets?”

“I don’t know. This is the part for anything that felt too out of the left field in the sun.” Courntey replied and yawned. “If there are any thoughts you want to share, the floor is yours.” 

David seemed to think about it for a long while. His eyes always wandered off when he was deep in thoughts—a habit that was rare, for David’s mind usually worked at a speed unmatched by others, but prominent nonetheless. At one point it was clear to Mark he was no longer caught up in his thoughts. Rather, waiting for a cue to speak. 

When no one else took the spotlight, he finally spoke up. “I was really sad and hurt when I left this place behind. I feel that bitterness at the back of my mouth now that I’m back. It’s on my mind all day.” 

Mark averted his eyes in guilt. 

“But it’s being rewritten by new memories, both here and at the smoothie place. And it helped me push myself to meet new people and try out new things. I would have never dared to show up like this to the creek. At least… not now. I’m still exploring how I like to see myself.” 

He fidgeted with his sleeve. It caught Mark’s eye and urged him to reach out. He didn’t know where that action would have ended so he suppressed it quietly. Maybe he wasn’t quiet enough. 

David looked up at him. Mark swallowed. “When you walked up to the counter and saw me and still wanted me to come… I care about what you think. It frustrated me when I realised how much I let myself be stomped on because of it.” 

The lump in his throat grew more uncomfortable as he listened to David’s words. I care about what you think. That was a new one. Something he might have only figured out recently, or didn’t feel like saying when they first spoke about the argument. 

Mark had thought about his own apology too, how he could have been more open. “I never meant to make you feel… to hurt you. I was really happy that I had you by my side. I took that for granted.” 

The rest was a familiar tune on the tip of his tongue. “It felt terrible to be here alone too. Like when your favourite show never airs its final arc. All you’re left with are the hopes of what could have been.” 

And lastly, what fell out of his mouth when David reached out for his hand and he felt like he was staring for too long: “I don’t know if I like this… everything… but I’ll get used to it. I promise. It’s okay to change. Just don’t ditch me again. Please.”

“Listen to me when I tell you that you’re pushing too hard. Okay?”

Mark shut his eyes. “I will. I promise.” 

The silence was unnerving—so much so it led Mark to open his eyes again. He didn’t want to face David’s reaction but he couldn’t stand being left in the dark about it. 

David was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. It was uncommon, David wore his heart on his sleeve, or so Mark thought until now. 

Soon David’s gaze softened as he reached out with open arms. Mark was never so relieved to hear someone speak. “Come here, I missed you…” 

Everyone who grew up with Mark knew he wasn’t one for hugs, for any physical affection really. He didn’t like getting up and personal. Still he found himself clutching onto David’s waist and enjoying the warmth the simple gesture brought to him, like he was still at the campfire. 

As they pulled away their gazes lingered on each other. It was Mark who looked away first, weak against the gentle smile on David’s lips as well as suddenly aware of Barry’s presence. He looked at him but couldn’t think of what to say. The apology was meant for him as well… Mark was just completely scooted by the heat in his chest that he kept for his best friend. 

Barry seemed to understand what was going through his head, patting his shoulder and letting Mark’s palm rest on the back of his hand to thank him for the silent understanding. 

Mark’s heart soared with relief. Like they haven’t had the same heart to heart a few weeks ago. Like he hadn’t heard them accept his apologies half a dozen times already. 

David hugged them both back then, hesitant but earnest. It was the same and yet so different when he hugged Mark a moment ago. It felt intimate. Like it was meant for only the two of them. Like there was no one watching. 

David never cared about who’s watching. Mark had always adored that about him. How he existed in his own bubble sometimes, savouring happiness and completely oblivious to the world around him, by choice or otherwise. Mark felt being a part of that bubble just now. 

No one has spoken a word since David invited him for a hug. All the same people could be shouting right into his ear and Mark is sure he wouldn’t hear a word of it. 

He stared ahead until David’s cheeks gained a scarlet colour and he finally looked away sheepishly. Mark felt his face heat up as well. 

“Well, I’m out,” he announced abruptly, getting onto his feet. “Do whatever you want but I shall head to sleep.”

David leaned backwards. “O-Oh. Yeah. I’ll follow suit.” 

Mark felt his eyes leave a warm trace on his back as he walked over to his sleeping bag. He didn’t bother turning around even when he heard hesitant footsteps. 

“Okay, let’s tuck you in then…” that must have been a whisper by Courtney, probably awkwardly manoeuvring Tabitha off her legs. Not Mark’s problem. 

He turned to face the wall. He could hear the rustling of the sleeping bags and some whispers. It had never been this lively at the Elder’s rock before—not ever since the three friends used to stay the night from time to time in middle school. It certainly never was this crowded. Mark’s mind was never so restless.

He internally laughed at himself, at how the evening with friends and extended company and plenty of distraction still led his head to wrap around David. He probably thought about him so much he’ll think of him in his sleep too. For the better or worse. 

Probably for the better. If he had to admit to it—and if this was going to be a theme in his life now. Then he should look at the bright side. 

#craig of the creek #elders of the creek #cotc fanfic #mark cotc #david cotc #barry cotc #omar cotc #tabitha cotc #courtney cotc #jackie cotc #a bowl of my favourite characters #if I could justify secret keeper's presence the super bowl would be complete #would you believe me if I said Mark took over the keyboard halfway through to gush about David #when all I meant to write about were silly childhood memories