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steddiehyperfixation · 3 months

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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redrockbutch · 3 months

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Cishet Girlpower Feminist incapable of the self reflection required to admit having deliberately socially ostracized the GNC little girls they went to school with until all the girls in the entire class thought they were too gross and icky to even be around: ever since I was a little girl I have known that GNC women are treated better by men, because men hate femininity. My proof? Well, they were always hanging out with the boys, weren't they?

#butch blogging #butchphobia #misogyny #I was sexually harassed by the boys constantly but they were the only social group I had thanks for asking!#would've been nice to have a community of girls but you all told me to stop following you any time I tried to make friends :)

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milkbreadandtadpoles · 3 months

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stsg x angel

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒

snippet: measly 0.5k of an insight into my poly!stsg brain. reader is neutral!

warnings: stsg it it's own warning. suggestive language, suggestive dom/sub behavior and dynamics. reader being a pouty angel ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ also, proabably poorly edited

author's note: dawg i just had some inspo and had to put thoughts to paper. and i must share! please enjoy my brain rot, my little clan of followers and those who will be searching in these tags.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒

“Would you suck the strap?”

“It’s seven thirty in the morning, Satoru. Please don’t start right now.”

“But I’m serious!”

“Shut up, Suguru is still sleeping.”

“I’m not.”

You palm your face, glaring at Satoru through your fingers, “You woke him up.”

“I doubt me talking about your sexual tendencies woke up the household princess.”

“Can you just flip the pancakes?”

“Oh, you’re making pancakes?” Suguru murmurs, gruff and syrupy. His hair is haphazard, yet silky and smooth. The frizzled strands frame his angular, gaunt face. It’s too cold for there to be color in his face, kissed by late moonlight instead.

“Yes, like the mother hen I am.”

Suguru has a sleepy, languid smile on his face when he watches you roll your eyes. You’re in the prettiest pajama set- cozy and warm and accentuated, eyes still riddled with sleep, head of hair a little out of place. But the light flooding the kitchen makes your cheeks glow.

“We don’t need a mother hen in the house.”

“Oh, please,” Satoru snorts, waving around a spatula with chunks of gooey batter threatening to splash against the back of the kitchen wall, “‘Toru, please make me some breakfast. Toru, I’ll give you a kiss if you-“

“I didn’t say that.” You bark, brows furrowing. Placing your hands on your hips, you frown.

Satoru beams. “You might as well have- it was with your eyes.”

“My eyes?” There’s a pout on your face when Suguru has the audacity to smile. “They were half closed when I walked into the kitchen this morning-“

“They wouldn’t have been if you drank the tea I made you-“

“I did drink it.”

“Oh?” Satoru’s lips quirk, satisfaction apparent in his shrewd smile. “You’re such a good pet for listening.”

Your cheeks burst into flames, mortification further trailing into the deep lining of your gut when the little, white haired freak has the audacity to coo. Suguru holds a hand up, and both of you quiet. Submission is a small word compared to what authority he can pull from the two of you.

“It’s seven thirty in the morning, Satoru.”

And you smile, looking at the man who might as well have hung the moon and stars and sun himself. Shit, he might as well be the sun. The gravitational pull of the planet of you and Satoru that make it bearable living together.

That shatters briefly when he murmurs slyly to Satoru as he flips a partly burnt pancake, “Give it at least an hour or two before you start making her look like that.”

“Suguru.” You whine and he smiles the type of smile that melts your insides.

Huffing a breath, he tells you about going to get ready, to be good before he leaves the kitchen- abandoning you and Satoru in a vice like silence. There’s a pout on your face, laboriously crawling onto the kitchen counter to swing your sock-covered feet while the devious little shit continues to stack up pancakes as though there were four more of you in the house.

But they have an insatiable appetite, so it's a comment you hold with a bite of your tongue.

#thank you to the babs i follow who post this #you've inspired me!#i think i wanna make a tiny like small little series who knows!#lol i love posting all my little ideas #it's my baby diary #anyway #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #satosugo #satosugo smut #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #my works

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months

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i wanna know more about svsss menopause

They synced their periods together too well. Now they are synced through their perimenopause years.

#Poorly drawn svsss #svsss #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #shang qinghua #mobei jun #ask #I truly think that the peak of the SVSSS (peri)menopause era is just them commiserating over the experience of it.#Not pictured here is Liu Qingge barely suppressing his hormonal rage. He would have it *bad*.#I think Liu Mingyan is the only person who does not have a bad time with menopause because she takes estrogen supplements.#Which sounds like a trans headcanon but I think regardless of cis/trans status she's researched this and is prepared.#I have developed a sense for what menopause is purely by exposure to the various complaints I have overheard/been told.#These are all very specific and yet very common stories.#I do not know what the overlap is for SVSSS fans and people (not just women) going through menopause. I hope this is funny to SOMEONE.#It's an untapped market of potential! Too many young'uns in these woods.#Synced periods this. Ovulating that. Where's the menopausal homicidal rage?#Come on! Ripping off your clothing in a sudden burst of heat is *SO* SVSSS core!!! Make perimenopause sexy!!!#Anyways. Please put your menopause headcanons in the comments/tags <3 I'd love to hear them.#Thank you joblessmonday for following up with an ask and giving me an excuse to release this train of thought.

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 months

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✨2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!!!✨

Kirtch

I want to thank all of you for being such a wonderful community! I've gotten a few really good suggestions on what I should do for my 2K celebration, but the amount of people demanding more to the Human Pet trilogy is o v e r w h e l m i n g, lol so here you go ❤️ Thank you so much for enjoying my stories

CW: Monster fucking, yandere relationship, bittersweet feels

Ten years had passed since (Reader) was abducted from their home planet.

Kirtch smiled joyfully, chest swelling with adoration as his pet woke up from their slumber, stumbling into his office sleepily. Their skin glowed, a result of their carefully formulated diet made for humans, and the healthy layer of squish that had formed around their body was the result of Kirtch's pampering and excess treats. (Reader) was still just as cute as the day he saw them in the marketplace, now happier than ever.

They yawned, rubbing their eyes as they teetered over towards Kirtch, raising their arms to be picked up without speaking. Chuckling, Kirtch lifted them easily into his lap, rubbing their back as (Reader) struggled to wake up. "Good morning, pet. Did you sleep well?"

(Reader) smiled on reflex, leaning into the hard chest they had learned to find comfortable. His rough fingers ran up to their neck as he massaged them, feeling the track mark scar that would never fully fade. It was such a shame, that rounded reminder of darker days, when (Reader) was so unhappy and needed strict training. But that was all in the past. (Reader) had learned to love Kirtch, which meant he could spoil them to his heart's content.

Their body was bigger than before, but Kirtch found that they still nestled perfectly in his arms.

Inside (Reader's) mind, every day was a haze.

Like a dream they couldn't escape.

It took well over a year, having their brains practically liquified with chemicals to lose their grasp on who they were as a person. Memories of their parents melted away, leaving only strange blobs of abstract color that held no distinct shape, along with friends past lovers. (Reader) sometimes dreamt in their native tongue, hearing themselves in the language they spoke for the majority of their life, but in the morning (Reader) was speaking in Kirtch's language, something they had willingly desired to learn. (Reader) learned many tricks since they started living with Kirtch.

In the mirror by their rarely used bed, (Reader's) reflection had become as alien to them as the faces of the crew members on board the ship.

Part of (Reader) wondered if they should be concerned by that fact. But, outside of their time with Kirtch, (Reader) felt apathetic. It wasn't useful to have thoughts that weren't happy.

Dressed in beautiful silks, (Reader) draped their arms around Kirtch's shoulders, placing gentle kisses along his jaw.

At the beginning of their "relationship", Kirtch first viewed sex as a way to release his pet, then he began to crave it as a way to please his pet, wanting to do anything that to make his pet happy.

Now, it was something that was special. It still didn't fulfill Kirtch physically, as nothing could change his bodily functions, but if anyone else were to suggest that they "released" his (Reader) for him, Kirtch would kill them without a second thought. It was a special time for Kirtch, knowing that only he could make his precious (Reader) feel good.

Scaled fingers sunk deep into the fat of (Reader's) thighs as they pressed their lips against his face more roughly. (Reader) felt their lips begin to bruise as they kissed Kirtch's mouth, unfazed by his inhuman anatomy by this point in their relationship.

Yes, this was his pet. No one else was allowed to love them, touch them, like he did. Although he knew that one day (Reader's) life would come to an end, Kirtch knew that the ecstasy he felt by (Reader's) side would last for a hundred years after they were gone. There were no replacements for his (Reader), and honestly he felt no need for any other additions to his life either.

(Reader's) face was cupped in Kirtch's hands as the kisses became more passionate and frantic; (Reader's) hands slipping into his robes to feel his armored chest. Everything about (Reader) was too precious for words.

As his large, jewel like eyes gazed into (Reader's), he sometimes wondered if their lives could have been differently. Through many decades of studying humans Kirtch had learned of many different cultures and their mythologies, and although he knew that none of them were true, he sometimes fantasized about being reborn with (Reader) as humans, living and loving together in each other's arms, without the need for a collar.

His pelvis opened, revealing himself to (Reader), who excitedly removed their hands from his abdomen to caress his exposed member. Kirtch would do anything to protect that smile.

It never failed to fascinate him, the look on (Reader's) face as they slid down onto his dick. The way they scrunched up their nose before relaxing, sighing as Kirtch filled them entirely. (Reader's) body was fascinating. Kirtch could feel pressure whenever their muscles clenched around him; feel the vibrations from the shuddering of their quivering abdominals. Even if he couldn't feel the same stimulation, it was still a magical experience because he was allowed to experience it with his (Reader).

It was difficult, not staring at (Reader) in awe as they used his shoulders as leverage to bounce on his lap, moaning and gasping and biting their lip as they used his body for their pleasure. The strange slime that was his pre-cum creating a loud schlicking noise that echoed throughout Kirtch's sound proof room.

Assisting (Reader) by grabbing their ass cheeks and moving their body, Kirtch smiled as they spasmed, their red sweaty face letting out the sweetest sound of all as they climaxed around his cock. Kirtch allowed himself the release into their still twitching hole, forcing (Reader) to arch their back at the stimulation.

It was another beautiful day, with (Reader) filled with Kirtch's cum, still grinding against his hips and overstimulating themselves for fun, taking advantage of the fact that Kirtch could keep his erection as long as he pleased, even after cumming.

"I love you, pet." Kirtch whispered, placing his cold forehead on (Reader's) feverish one.

"I -I love you too!" (Reader) cried out, chasing another orgasm. Their body fell limp as another climax rolled like a large wave across their body, forcing out Kirtch's fluids which gushed back down over his dick and shelled thighs.

Kirtch was content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for loving Kirtch ❤️

And thank you all so so so so much for enjoying my writing enough to follow me!!!

We reached 2K followers while I was sleeping, and I am just floored.

Since this is a special, I have a little announcement..

I am planning a part 4 🎉

It's going to be extremely long, and won't come out until after kinktober finishes, but I've already begun the planning phase for the story ❤️

So, some other little facts about Kirtch!

I often read my stories out loud under my breath while writing, and for names I just say whatever feels natural sounding during the introduction for the character. For aliens and monsters without human names I sound out what feels right, then quickly Google it to make sure it isn't a real name lol

I wanted his exoskeleton to look like those big black beetles found in the garden that have a green sheen when the light hits them, except purple instead of green. And I when visualizing him I wanted his eyes to look like crystals, and what's more alien than opals? Many gem stone colors can be recreated with colored contacts, but I've never seen opal colored contacts, because of all the different colors opals have ❤️

Don't judge my art too much, I'm not an artist lol