#I feel like im way too much for everyone.
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Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader
TJ’s 2K Request celebration!
@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”
Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers
WC: 3.1k
I hope you enjoy!! 💗
“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”
A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.
You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.
“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.
“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.
“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.
“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.
You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.
“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.
You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.
“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.
Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.
You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.
Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”
You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.
“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.
Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?
That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.
“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”
“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.
“I just think— "
"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.
"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."
“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.
"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.
"Yes, you do."
"When have— "
"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"
"Sweetheart I—"
"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."
"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."
"I don’t want to."
"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.
You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.
“Woah, see my point exactly.”
“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.
Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.
The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.
Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.
You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.
That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.
“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.
“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.
“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.
Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.
So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.
You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.
You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.
Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.
You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.
After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.
You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.
“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”
You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.
“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.
“Sorry, Angel”
Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.
“I didn’t know you stayed?”
“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”
“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.
“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.
“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.
“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”
You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.
Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.
“Oh god”
“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.
“You said it was demeaning…”
“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.
“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.
“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.
“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.
“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.
“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”
Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?
“You do?” Your eyes widen.
“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.
“Oh?” You were in shock.
“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.
“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.
“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”
“Kiss me.”
Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.
“Kiss me, Eddie.”
Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.
You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.
You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.
No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.
Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.
“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.
“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?
“I think we should slow down.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”
“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"
"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.
"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."
"Okay, Eddie."
Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.
You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.
Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.
hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.
"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"
“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.
Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.
Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.
“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.
“Can I taste you?”
“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.
Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.
“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”
“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.
Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.
“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.
“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.
“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”
“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.
“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.
You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.
“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.
“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.
Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.
Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.
When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.
Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.
You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.
When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.
You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.
The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.
“I want you,” you repeat yourself.
Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.
You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.
“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.
“Yes.”
He quickly got up and you moaned,
“What are you?- oh,” you blush
You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.
Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?
“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.
Cocky, shit.
“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.
“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.
“I have my toys.”
Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”
“Finally”
Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.
“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.
“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.
“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”
That made your pussy clench down again.
“Oh, you like that?”
You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.
“Noted”
You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.
“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.
“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.
You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.
“Harder”
“You sure”
“Yes, god yes!”
Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.
“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.
Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.
"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.
A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.
The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.
"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."
Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.
Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.
With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.
"That good, huh?"
"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.
"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.
"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.
"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "
Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites
@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv
#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson x female reader#Eddie Munson x virgin!reader#Eddie Munson imagine
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Ok so can i tell you something? Im in love with the Halovian species from Penacony. Idk why but they just look so pretty and I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM. I WANNA HOW BIBLICALLY MESSED UP THEY ARE BECAUSE THE FAMILY ARE GIVING ME CULT VIBES! I even have 3 halovian OCs that im in the middle of making rn. Im not satisfied with them rn since i wanna wait for more lore about the Halovians.
With that being said, can i request Fontaine men (Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Lyney) with a Halovian s/o?
Context:
The halovian reader somehow got isekaied from Penacony to the Genshin Impact universe and just suddenly appeared in Fontaine. Do what you will with that small backstory ^_^
Hope you have a good day/night and take care of yourself!
- Flower anon 🌸
Hey there, Flower Anon!! I absolutely relate to the Halovian obsession, and thank you for the great request! I hope you'll like this!<33
Content: Reader is a Halovian, isekai troupe, established relationship, reader has Halovian wings abd a halo, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not fully proofread))
》NEUVILLETTE
Neuvillette immideatly knew at first sight that you didn't belong to this world. And yet, he treated you like everyone else when you two met. He didn't push you on your past or what you really were, but made sure to protect you from prying eyes or people that may want to harm you due to your rather unique appearance.
He finds your little wings and halo absolutely adorable, even if he doesn't show it often due to not knowing how he should express himself. But he definitely lights up when you allow him to pet/touch them. Neuvillette also doesn't allow anyone to bully or hurt you the same way he did it with the Melusines. He practically makes it law, and who would dare to oppose him anyway?
He finds it comforting to know that both of you have a secret identity you have to hide from the world. One only the other truly and really knows about. It makes him feel less lonely, and he's thankful for that.
》Wriothesley
He becomes suspicious of you at first, hiding his interest behind teasing words and narrowed eyes. But over time, he finds himself becoming rather obsessed with your look and the mystery that lies under the surface. Although it's hard to tell that he feels this way, considering his naturally secretive nature.
With that said, he is obsessed with your little wings. He's always gently pulling on them or fixing up your feathers for you. He won't let anyone look at you weird or bully your appearance either. He thinks you look divine, absolutely adorable. Anyone that disagrees is ofcourse very much wrong.
Wriothesley doesn't pry into your past, mainly because he'd know best how annoying that can be. If you never want to tell him, then so be it. And even when you do one day, he'll be there to support you and reassure you that it doesn't matter anymore down here in the fortress anymore. Life has restarted for the both of you, together.
》LYNEY
Lyney was absolutely fascinated by you at first sight. He couldn't help himself when he asked you too many questions, eyes never leaving your unique features that made his heart beat a little faster. If it wasn't for Lynette forcing him to have some shame, he would've never looked away from you. He definitely called you "angel" ever since your first meeting, and that never changed even after getting together. It felt wrong to him not to call you that.
He fusses over your appearance all the time, mainly over your wings and halo looking perfect. It makes him happy that he's the only one allowed to touch you this way. With that said, however, he knows that you being with him, considering who he belonged to, would end up causing you trouble. He'd protect you with his life though, that's for sure.
He understands if you aren't necessarily willing to share your past with him. He's patient. He'll wait forever for you to tell him, even if you never want to, which is fine too. You'll make enough new memories together to replace unpleasant, old ones. He promises you that.
Alrightttt... I hope this was alright, Flower Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x y/n#genshin neuvillette x reader#genshin neuvillette#genshin wriothesley x reader#genshin wriothesley#genshin lyney x reader#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin
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Okay so I saw this post about dark percy (really him reaching his Limit and fighting full strength with everything he had) and I was imagining the potential fallout of that. Pretty bad, as you can guess.
The thing is a lot of percys strongest moments happen out of view of the olympians, especially in hoo. The hurricane atop the glacier in alaska, the poison scene in tartarus, bending the depression river and the one in the palace of nyx.
Stuff like the St Helens eruption got him washed up on an inescapable island literally removed from reality until calypso gave him the OK, the achillies curse he got tricked into losing by hera. Smaller moments, the minotaur, fighting ares, the stolen pirate ship, walking on water vs hyperion, freshwater sources, him knowing both Latin and Greek, they're more easily brushed off or at least mostly due to cunning, sword skills and sheer luck and grit.
But basically the olympians don't actually know the full extent of percys strength and divine power. They have hints - percy standing on the throne, winning against ares, his many victories - but what they aren't willing to brush aside in the heat of (an important) battle there have been pretty strong consequences for.
Heck, just look at Frank, he's no prodigy with weapons, he's polite and respectful, but his distant relation to two olympians letting him inherit shapeshifting earned him direct divine meddling and his life force tied to a hunk of half toasted firewood. Man is a honey bear with lactose intolerance and he was punished with a mythical death curse for being too strong.
If Percy's true strength came out, he would risk losing everything. His freedom, most certainly. If he wasn't straight up executed he might wind up in a Greek myth style imprisonment, the way of atlas, prometheus, calypso, or something like the myriad of ways Greek heroes met their end. Good scenario he survives a dozen curses and gets on with life with a dozen new disabilities, best case scenario he's stripped of every inch of divine power and dropped back to the mortal world, not even clear sighted. Total separation from the Greeks and Romans. Oh, annabeth would marry him either way, and his friends would hardly abandon him despite the gods wishes, but they'd hardly be able to see him, and no long range contact without the ability to IM him or vice versa.
All of that to say Percy is hiding his true strength from the gods themselves - maybe not consciously, and it's not even power he particularly wants - but if they ever find out?
It's game over.
But why is he so strong? I don't know. What I do know is that the half bloods of the books are so much stronger than the ones of myth. Used to be that divine blood would get you divine favour and a great fate whether you liked it or not. Maybe some cunning and bow skills. A spot of spell casting if you were really lucky. Achillies got his curse after he was born, Perseus had a dozen magic artifacts, orpheus had something going on but hercules is to my knowledge an outlier. Now? Everyone in camp has some special power. Flight, fire, necromancy, hypnotism, dream walking etc. However it's happening, half bloods are slowly but surely getting a lot, lot stronger every century that passes. Meta? I mean I guess. But.
What no one has done before is something that their godly parent couldn't.
Except.
Except Percy.
Except Percy, in tartarus, at his mental, emotional and physical limit, controlling poison with his mind, overpowering the goddess of poison in her home, making misery choke on misery. Feeling something in his chest crack. Doing something poseidon could not, and doing it better than the person who could.
Down there, hidden away from the gods, he evolved. For that brief moment, he did something, was something new.
And that was how the gods overthrew the titans.
And that's why they must never find out.
#In terms of extrapolating meta 'percy Jackson unknowingly being maybe the first of a new generation of increasingly powerful#Half bloods that would be in line with overthrowing the more powerful but complacent olympians as the next in the long line of toppling#Ancient and established lineages of divinity' has to be one of my favourites. Give it a few more centuries and they might actually be in#Danger lol#And the olympians would NOT be happy but would they solve the issue at its roots and stop having kids? Doubtful :)#Even just three of them who barely had anything to do with land or mortals couldn't keep it in their pants for more than half a century#Hestia and chiron remain the mvps as always lol#I got distracted from a story idea with lore dang it#pjo#pjo hoo toa#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#Pjo dod#hoo series#pjo hoo#the heroes of olympus#perseus jackson#pjo meta
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bad idea, right? // theodore nott x fem reader
part 2 for but daddy i love him!
playlist: bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo
"im sure ive seen much hotter men but i really cant remember when!"
summary: you agreed to go out with theodore nott and you did infact go on a date with him! however ever since your date with him youve been doubting your judgement.
y/n used , part 2 , gryffindor granger reader , swearing , mention of dr*gs and alcohol , not proof read
its been a week since theodore nott confronted you in that classroom. and its been a day since the date you went on with him. it was nothing too special ,just coffee in hogsmeade and overall it was great!!...except from when some guy in slytherin came over asking if theo wanted his 'weekly supply of the good stuff'.
you had almost gagged on the spot. being a muggleborn , throughout all of your muggle education you were preached about the evil of drugs. so when theodore smirked and whispered something to the guy before showing him off.....you got the ick.
and its been 24 hours since then, and youre going crazy about it.
"girls , i cant condone drug use!! that shit is fucked up!" you screeched as you paced a hole into the carpet of your shared dorm.
lavender , parvati and hermione all stared at you with concern , having listened to you panic and rant for the past half an hour.
"y/n we know! but i mean you cant even know that it was what youre thinking! cmon you were the one that protected his character like he was a saint a few days ago!!" hermione argued back, trying to calm you.
"before , i knew he was doing drugs!! WEEKLY!" you cried , collapsing onto your bed as the three girls stood up and surrounded you.
"i mean...whats so bad about that?....the gryffindor guys do it at parties all the time-" lavender started before parvati threw her a harsh glare , making her stop her scentence.
"its more about that its making me question if i really know him well enough to commit to dating him!" you groaned , face down into your pillow.
"y/n i think youre being dramatic! you like him too much and now youre scared. its okay lots of people get like that dont worry!" hermione sympathised.
you paused at this , eyes widenening at the thought that this was likely very true. you did like theodore. a lot. maybe more than you found comfortable. and now you were finding a way to shut out the overwhelming feelings.
at this epiphany you sat up , eyes wide and mouth dropped open.
"youre right mione. i think im gonna take a small distance from him and...firgure it out!.... yeah... figure it out.." you mumbled quietly as you got up from your bed , your friends staring at you wearily , "i mean theres always hotter guys out there and it was always a bad idea...right?".
you looked at your friends with red cheeks and a hesitant expression , they stared back as you took slow steps towards the door before bolting out of it , running down the stairs before they can stop you.
"y/n-!" parvati shouted trying to stop you before the girls stood in stunned silence , "ive never seen someone change mood and mind so quickly..."
"shes going to avoid him , isnt she?" lavander said knowingly as the other two girls noddly grimly.
"yeah...she definetly is." hermione sighed.
----
and that you did! youve been avoiding theodore nott like the plague for three whole days and it was driving everyone around you insane.
ron. he had been walking with you in the corridors , slowly commuting to potions when you eyes spotted something in the distance with great suprise and terror. the next second you sprinted the way you and ron had come from. leaving ron extremely confused and left to walk to potions alone , and getting points taken off by snape when he was the only late person.
harry. you swore that you would watch him practice quidditch and give him pointers on how to improve his technique - you were the old gryffindor seaker before you quick months after joining. but after finding out slytherin and gryffindor were sharing the pitch that day , you never bothered to show up. harry was mad at you for days , knowing the reason was your avoidance of theodore. yet you denied it and said you were ill.
hermione. you were studying with hermione in the library , both of you equally focused on the task at hand , until you perked up at the sound of a deep familiar voice walking towards you and hermiones area of the library. you gasped in suprise before ducking under the table , spilling a pot of ink in the process all over hermione pages. she gasped also , but in pure horror , and thankfully was able to cast a spell to clean the ink before being distracted by someone standing infront of the table you were studying on.
theodore. if anyone could be described as going insane at your constant avoidance , it was theo himself. he had been practically ripping his hair out everytime you avoided his eyes , or walked in the opposite direction when he approached. of course he had noticed , there wasnt a single moment he didnt notice you. and every time you left or ran away , he became more and more desperate.
so now he stands infront of you sister in the library , fist clenched in the deep desperation to see you; to know what he did wrong.
"where is she granger." he said through gritted teeth.
"nott , im actually quite busy cleaning the ink off me , so a little more context to who 'she' is would be great in this moment!" hermione argued in a annoyed tone as the smoothed down her recovering parchment.
"y/n!" theodore replied in more of a shout , making hermione jump and loud hushes echo through the library in response.
"oh!...oh...shes right h- ow!" hermione screeched as you hit her from under the table shaking your head furiously , "yknow what ive had enough of this , you WILL talk to the boy and you WILL sort this out. everyone is sick out it y/n so come out NOW!"
hermione pure fury and demanding tone made you cower at your older sister , before slowly coming out from under the table with deep embrassament.
theo watched as you came out and stood infront of him , head down , "theodore-".
you words were cut short as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the library , avoiding your protests and tugging.
he dragged you in the same manner , through the dungeons and through the slytherin common room , until you reached what you supposed to be his dorm.
then he pushed you infront of him , the back of your legs hitting the wood of a bed frame as you stumbled for balance , watching him pace the room.
"you have to tell me what i did , please PLEASE tell me what i did because i cannot go on any longer with you avoiding me!" he stammered.
you silenty watched as he try to push out his words , the consequences of your actions setting in.
"i-..i got second thoughts-"
"WHY!" he shouted back , walking towards you.
"because - because... YOU DO THE GOOD STUFF!" you finally stammered out as he stared back , dumbfounded.
there was a short pause of silence as he blinked in confusion , "...what the fuck is the good..stuff?..."
"DRUGS!" you finally let out with a sigh of relief , like a weight had been lifted off your chest.
"you-..i-...what the fuck?!" he breathed out in shock , eyes wide , "i- i dont do fucking drugs!"
"oh yeah? then who was that boy on our date? he asked if you wanted your weekly supply nott!" you shouted, angered by his denial.
he stared into your eyes with pure confusion before seeming to peice things together in his mind , his exression dropping.
before he laughed hysterically , holding your shoulder for support.
"what...why...why are you laughing?" you asked, bewildered.
"the good stuff..is..its not drugs!" he let out between loud laughs , "its fucking chocolate!"
your jaw dropped as you stared at you bankly , "what- what do you mean?!"
"this boy in our year - in slytherin - he gets chocolate from his mum every week , he hates it and doesnt want it to go to waste every week..so he gives it to me because i really like it!" he continued to laugh through his explanation as you cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
"what-...i-..who the fuck calls chocolate the good stuff!?!" you screehced in pure shame , theodores wheezing drowing out your feelings as you begin to laugh with him.
after a few seconds of theodore collecting himself he grinned and looked you in the eyes , holding your face softly , making your breathe hitch and giggles cease , "i cant believe you actually thought that.why would i ruin my godly body with that stuff?"
you smacked his arm as he smirked and winked , both of you laughing , "i guess i just...i got scared , truthfully , i like you a lot theo and i guess i was just begging to not...falll for you."
"so you avoided me? rather than speaking to me?" his eyes saddenned as your heart shattered at the sight.
"im so sorry teddy , ive- ive never had a boyfriend before im new to this feelings and- its terrifying it really is!" you desperatly tried to reason to him , words speeding out of your mouth.
he softly ran a hand through your hair , eyes seeping with adorations as a soft smile found his lips, "i know. dont worry i get it. just...dont avoid me ever again - just talk to me, okay?"
you nodded swiftly as he smiled brightly at you.
"now...how about we lay down and just...talk. then you can really get to know me and never misjudge again..sound good?" he whispered.
"sounds like heaven." you smiled back at him , his lips finding yours much softer than your first exchange , with much more love and delicacy.
for the next few hours you did exactly that , talking and talking. you talked about everything- you even told him your favourite film , of course its the little mermaid.
#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott imagine#theo x reader#theo nott x reader#theo nott#harry potter#harry potter x reader#hp fanfic#x reader#hp#slytherin#hp fandom#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#hermione granger#ron weasley#lavender brown#parvati patil#bad idea right#bad idea right?#olivia rodrigo#guts#slytherin boys x reader#part 2#but daddy i love him
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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33
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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle
“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly.
But then he holds the food away from you.
You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating.
You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water.
So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time.
It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving.
When you’re feeling better, you glower at him.
He is rather pleased, though.
The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it.
He laughs warmly, fondly.
“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away.
You don’t respond to him.
He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth.
You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.”
“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge.
The orange pops into your mouth.
“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit.
Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more.
“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands.
You swallow the piece in your mouth.
“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you.
Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.
Tears prick your eyes again.
You turn your face away from him. He sighs.
“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.”
You sniff. “I could say the same of you.”
“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.”
“I don’t need—”
“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.”
Stubbornly, you remain silent.
“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears.
“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.”
You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve.
He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.”
You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.
You don’t think you’ll win this one—
Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way.
You feel silly for denying him.
Perhaps worse for agreeing.
Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?”
Suguru studies you for a moment.
He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.
You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him.
He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.
“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice.
And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are.
Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.
Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds.
When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.
With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes.
His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.
And there's a strange look in his eyes now.
Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better.
A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him.
He takes hold of you easily.
“Hurts?” He muses softly.
You nod, tense and quick.
“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter.
Instinctively, you cling to him.
You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—
“Breathe,” he says again gently.
But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.
He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay.
Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man.
Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight?
“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch.
You seek friction and he denies you.
Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again.
“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?”
“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.”
A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat.
“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest.
“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.”
And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning.
The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body.
When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers.
You glare up at him with glassy eyes.
“Open,” he says, warm and low.
Pleased.
Turned on.
Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek.
You’re slow about it, or maybe he is.
You hold his gaze furiously.
Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth.
***
The third day is perhaps the worst.
You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.
At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you.
You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.
Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down.
And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.
You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks.
You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands.
Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints.
(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.)
Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him.
When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls.
All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—
Bite.
Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.
He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.
You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—
“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?”
As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul.
“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him.
You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?”
As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it.
When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw.
“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.”
Something inside of you snaps.
Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you.
In an instant, you are back atop him.
This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer.
He actually cries out in pain.
The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist.
You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have.
Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt.
He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”
And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him.
You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again.
This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared.
He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest.
You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.
He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance.
Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him.
Not so pristine.
Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him.
“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.”
Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.”
“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.”
“Let me up,” you snap.
“Will you be good?” Suguru asks.
Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more.
So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.
Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard.
You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you.
His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.
“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.”
And for once, you don’t fight him.
You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you.
When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.
He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.”
You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now.
But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest.
“So are you.” You reply, words slurring.
You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep.
***
Suguru wakes you at some point.
It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing.
You whimper.
“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?”
“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash.
“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.”
You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this.
For a moment, you hope that he means—
“I’m going to give you a bath.”
You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy.
He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more.
You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind.
You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light.
The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.
“No,” you snap, “leave.”
He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.”
“I’m not a child,” you protest.
“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too.
You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?”
“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings.
You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard.
You ache.
This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever.
You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry.
Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain.
Suguru lifts you into the bath.
It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle.
You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.
And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.
Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—
Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair.
“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little.
“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.
Babying you.
And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you.
You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours.
“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?”
A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.”
“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him.
“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh.
“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.”
You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.
After a moment, you say, “I know.”
He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.”
You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss.
You pull away as quickly as you’d done it.
You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone.
And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.”
He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.”
“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?”
His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.
He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late.
The fever only worsens.
And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day.
***
Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.
Because of how Suguru finds you.
The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began.
For once, you have shocked Suguru.
Enough that his lips part.
Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant.
You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds.
“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve.
Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit.
(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?)
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed.
You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp.
What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind.
“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—”
You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—
It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.
“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him.
You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together.
“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.
You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.”
For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers.
But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously.
Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought.
“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face.
“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“
“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“
The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.
The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again.
“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.
“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—
In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.
He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you.
“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.
“Is it working?” You ask.
All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.
Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin.
“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”
Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.
Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin.
“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.”
“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.
“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.”
“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting.
You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.
Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough.
It almost feels as if it’s made it worse.
“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.”
You curse this time.
But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.”
His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.”
“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger.
He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself.
“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.”
“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”
“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly.
You bite off a groan.
Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—
“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.”
“Suguru—”
Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you.
He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—
“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?”
You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child.
“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”
His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—
“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.”
“Suguru,” you growl in frustration.
“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?”
Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so—
You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving.
“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns.
You force yourself to freeze, still panting.
And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound.
“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.”
You sneer at him and he takes his hand away.
Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—
“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?” Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you?
“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks.
When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.”
“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want.
You desire.
You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast.
“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—”
It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob.
Your tears make him smile.
He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?”
You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you.
He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.
“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly.
You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl.
And then, “look at me.”
You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless.
“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.”
Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable.
You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry.
“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?”
A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching.
“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.”
Without thinking, you obey him.
You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief.
You cry out, clinging to him.
“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.”
You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—
Embarrassing. So horrible.
You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.”
You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.”
“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—”
“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.”
You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss.
He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.”
And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.”
The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat.
Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—
All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly.
He presses his hand down just a little more and—
Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted.
You sob.
You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.
Suguru is there to catch you.
He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder.
And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat.
You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.
You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—
But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above.
Ice cold water pours on you.
You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water.
It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you.
He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap.
You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap.
He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on.
You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms.
“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.”
“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.
“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile.
You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender.
“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges.
He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;
“I know.”
***
Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly.
You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother.
You feel infinitely closer to him.
You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can.
He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even.
And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks.
When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?”
“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest.
“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.”
Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him.
He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now?
“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his.
You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again.
But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep.
You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth.
When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner.
It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;
“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.”
You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again.
It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place.
It’s like finally coming home.
#suguru getou x reader#getou x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru getou x you#getou x you#getou suguru x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#cw: omegaverse#cielo's writing!#cielo writes!
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I wrote this last night and thought you’d like it
~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone called her a cow. That was all Mary heard from kindergarten to high school, until she lost weight in college. She was proud of herself, for losing all the weight, and constantly worked out. But something changed.
Now, the night before had been normal- get home, eat dinner, read a book, go to bed. However, she woke up... not in her bed.
She was in a dark room, very spacious but clinical in a way. She tried to get up and move around, see more, but she realized she was tied to a chair. Great. She just sat there, hoping her captor would enter and simply explain why.
But that was not what happened, and what did happen was she felt two pinches in her belly. She hadn't noticed the two robotic hands that came from trapdoors next to the chair.
It only took a few moments for her to start feeling queasy, then hot, then normal. She couldn't figure out, for the life of her, what they injected her wi-
Gurgle....
Mary groans, feeling swollen... what was happening? Why... were her breasts growing?
Indeed they were- getting larger and larger, and... sloshing? Her shirt strained against them, rubbing against her already hard nipples and making her realize they were growing too. Longer, thicker... wetter? Was she lactating?
This was so confusing for her, and she struggles to get out of the chair. But all she hears is a creak as her hips start to widen and strain the ropes holding her. Not just her hips- her ass and thighs too.
Then that strange feeling moves to her belly, which starts to bloat and swell.
At this point, all she could do is watch in horror and awe as her shirt ripped, letting her tits free and revealing the teat-like nipples she now sports. She hears a small ping as the button on her pajama shorts pops off, and the shredding of seams.
Her belly was quickly catching up, straining the ropes and gaining more and more fat a minute... though a particularly sensitive area gets pink from the pressure. The ropes binding her thighs snap, the released pressure somewhat forcing her legs to spread apart, revealing her panties being engulfed by her growing pussy lips. The cold air makes her whine. "Ohhh~ what's- happening to me..."
The pink area on her belly has grown... nipples? Wait... was she growing another udder? Wait, another? Her... her tits weren't... udders...
The rope snaps, and she cries out as her belly surges forward.
"What the fuck- mmmnh! Ohhh, why do I feel so... g-gooooood...."
She doesn't notice her ears changing, growing longer and more like a cow's... but she does notice how her udder is now full and leaking. The pressure is unbearable and she bucks her hips, attempting to at least try and knock some of the sweet milk out... but gasps as her golf-ball sized clit hits it instead.
"MOOOOOOO!"
She gasps. "Why- I'm not a- a- cooooow! I'm- I'm... ohhh... mmmoooooo.... I'm a hu... hum.... hu... hard to... think..."
She bucks her hips again, but she can't quite get her still- growing clit to be satisfied. She whines, grinding on her chair as her tail (when did she grow a tail?) slipped under her fat belly to rub it.
"M-mooooohhh,,, i'm so- b-big... wanna be... milked and fucked and... and ... moooooo... but- no- I'm not... I'm.. im a... hu-hu... hucow... I'm a cooooow... moooooo! Moooooo!"
Any trace of intelligence left her as she began to moo, her udders not allowing any milk to slip out of the teats.
No matter how hard or how much she tried to rub and pleasure her huge clit and fat pussy she couldn't cum, making her so needy. She just needed someone, anyone, to fuck her...
"Moooooooooooo!"
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Moon, I've come back. Have you noticed how the wings in Sunday's suit are significantly darker in comparison to the wings on his neck or just his hair colour in general? Turning into a dark and deep purple?
Now, this MIGHT be a stretch, but the angel who has purple wings is Archangel Zadkiel, who is the angel of mercy. The angel colour purple means mercy and transformation. It tells you that you should be gentle with yourself as your journey shifts and changes. Does this mean that his own body is trying to tell himself that he should stop his self-destructive tendencies and to stop shouldering such a big burden? But he can't, and won't listen. He's too far gone, and the thought of giving up his goal, his ideals, his desire, is far worse than being a selfish man. However, doesn't that also make him selfish?
Outside of religious references, though, the colour purple, especially those of darker shades, represents sadness and frustration. I can only imagine the feeling of utter disappointment and frustration within Sunday after failing at the one thing he wanted to succeed in the most.
i feel like im missing something...
gGGhgqgw I'm going crazy for this man. Sunday angst.. save me.... Sunday angst, save me...
Anon u uave no idea, i read this and kept restlessly pacing back and forth while waiting for my phone to charge up.
This is.. SO SO TRAGIC??
Theres many theories out there that suggest he's a fallen angel. There's also the fact that his wings are literally purple. Anyways,,,
Him being related to the color purple and his wings also, meaning mercy and transformation fit so well eith his character. His "mercy" is one where he imagines an ordered utopia and a life long perfect dream for everyone who struggles with the grapples of reality. His transformation is one where he comes to accept his philosophies are pessimistic and neither as ideal as robin's romantic perspective. But in a way, his mercy is tainted. He doesnt extend this to himself, and how benevolent is a mercy that is conditional?
And the suggestion that his body may be taking the brunt of his self-destruction thereby influencing the color of his wings.. his mind is restless but so is his body.. the body keeps the score indeed.
I feel like this is also loosely able to prove the prediction he may join the stellaron hunters,,, taking a complete transformation as compared to his strict, orderly countenance in regards to his position as the Head of the Oak family.. oh wow.
Also, side note, stellaron hunter!Sunday would be terrifying. I imagine he still tries maintaining a pristine condition and generally grooms himself well, but the image of his white clothing having splatters of blood as he returns from his scripted mission.. WOW...
Anon im so sorry i cant add more to this, im not a theory girly in general, but this is such good infodump...... GOOD GODi love this please thank you so much anon <33
#moonink#hsr#honkai star rail#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#honkai star rail sunday#hsr spoilers#hsr leaks#honkai star rail spoilers#honkai star rail leaks
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Stardew valley, some headcanons and just thinking about things, thoughts? Opinions? Your own ideas? I would love to talk abt stardew valley w anyone even if its just abt ur farmer (PLEASE IM BEGGING I NEED IT)(i mean whahhatttt… no im so cool and very chill..)
Anyways
thinking about Abigail and Sebastian’s relationship.. or lack their of? Anyways, i always thought it was really interesting that we only really get 1 line of dialogue with Sebastian hinting at the “crush” on Abigail. The flower festival is the only time Sebastian himself vaguely hints at liking her, “i want to dance with someone (abigail).” Or something along the lines of that and honestly? I just think everyone else DOESNT like him except for Sam and her….. both Sam and Maru hint at Sebastian liking her in their dialogue tho, and Abigail herself mentions liking him ie mentioning being close friends (although he doesn’t share the same sentiment? Only stating Sam and yourself as a friend).. PERSONALLY.. in MY opinion, i like to think that he doesn’t really like her, i understand that she hangs out in his room but also? He literally tells you that she doesn’t seem to value his time bc she interrupts his work. I really like to think that Sam and Maru, and everyone else in the valley likes to gossip and pair both her and him together because of their alternative fashion. Abigail is really friendly, outgoing, loves adventure, shes extroverted, whereas Sebastian is socially awkward, prefers being alone, and likes staying in his room. I like to view Abigail as younger than both Sam and Sebastian, around 18yrs while sam is 19 and Sebastian is 22-23. I view them as these ages bc:
Abigail: Seems to be starting college, maybe already completed a semester by the time the farmer arrives, bickers with her parents in a more youthful way, ie Caroline’s lines about her dyed hair and fashion sense. Her sense of adventure to me seems to stem from a new independence from her parents (turning 18). (Side note but i prefer to think that Pierre IS Abigail’s dad and not the wizard… instead… i like to think Jodi started that rumor)
Sam: the whole dropping egg, skateboarding, and kissing under the covers reeks of a 16yr old, but to me hes just an immature 19yr old. I imagine Jodi spoiled him because his dad wasnt around a lot but as he gets older he realizes the toll it takes on her, and to me ive always seen Sam as genuinely friendly and kind and i kinda think his behavior in these cutscenes are just bc he doesn’t want to give Jodi a hard time. He’s afraid of disappointing her and thats why the egg and blanket scenes happen the way they do.
Sebastian: Free lancer job, motorcycle owning, weed smoking, and overall he just seems like the most mature in the group. He has his moments with his mom, maru, and Demetrius but i think it’s just bc of how tense he feels with them.
Also i kinda think the reason he wanted her in the band was so he didnt have to talk to Sam that much,,
But anyways, i do like to think that Abby’s gotta a crush but its more of the “idea” of Sebastian, i like to think she’ll fantasize about him asking her to ride on the motorcycle with him and go on this grand adventure and meet a lot of people and do a lot of things, in fact i like to think that her going to his room is a new thing too! And thats why he seems “suddenly” irritated by it and neither of them mention that they aren’t that close anymore. I also like to think shes more of a new addition to their duo too, which is why she doesn’t play pool and because of Pierre’s shop, either he or Caroline mention the Yoba church being “already there” before they moved in. I think Sam and Sebastian moved to stardew when they were very little (3-4) (implied by dialogue as sam mentions Kent use to be a garbage man in Zuzu city, and i think Sebastian was born BEFORE robin built the house and maru after.)(hence why Sebastian lives in the basement) i think Abigail moved when she was around 7-8. (I think Caroline is a pelican town native tho! And just moved back)
Not an Abigail hate post btw.. i like her, but i think this is more interesting than them just having a crush on each other, i just think her liking the idea of him and him well.. i just dont think anyone really likes him bc they think hes weird T_T!!
#stardewvalley#abigail stardew valley#stardew farmer#stardew sebastian#stardew valley Sam#stardew#stardew valley#stardew valley ideas#stardew valley rant#feel free to interact#please please please#i want to hear your opinions
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no hate but i truly am not seeing what all these bucktommy endgame truthers are seeing
in the few 1 on 1 scenes they have together, to me, it seems not just awkward, but like the writing and framing is intentionally pointing out the awkwardness
like, he’s uncomfortable being seen on a date with Tommy (despite having no issue in s2 when the elf lady thought him, Christopher, and Eddie were a whole family?)
not to mention how astronomically strange that kitchen kiss scene was (idk where y’all are getting cute/romantic but maybe that’s just me). Tommy kissed him to stop him from talking, asked him if it was okay afterwards, then proceeded to make entire date plans with very little input from Buck, who pretty much just stands there confused the entire time (not trying to insinuate in any way that Tommy assaulted him, he def seemed into it but that whole scene seemed very strange and forceful to me)
that paired with the scene when they met up after Tommy (rudely if i might add) cut their first date short and he insists it was because he didn’t want to pressure him? strange since he didn’t seem to have a problem pressuring Buck when he kissed him without asking and planned the whole date for him.
everyone’s already pointed out the bachelor party scene but i feel like i need to as well, Tommy chose not to dress up despite presumably knowing how much it meant to Buck, and then intentionally down played it when Buck pointed it out (idk the “they had henleys in the 80s” line seemed way to rude and dismissive to not be intentional)
and maybe it’s just me misreading it, because obviously at the beginning of any relationship there’s going to be some tension, but idk
we know that the writing and symbolism in this show is very intentional so im not inclined to believe so many people would notice it if it wasn’t meant to be noticed.
i have so many more opinions but this post is getting too long (i also have opinions on how all of this points towards buddie as well but that’s WAY too much to put in this post)
#buddie#eddie diaz#911#911 on abc#evan buckley#i’m def reading too far into some of this#i also just think it’s very lame writing to have a man come out as bi and then immediately stay with the first man he ever dates#what they taught us in ap english in hs really stuck with me i guess#i still over analyze everything all these years later#am i allowed to tag this bucktommy or will they be mad at me a again?#i mean i’m talking about it in the post so too on me it makes sense to tag it#i guess that’s not how everyone else thinks though so whatever
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Can you do a yandere class 1a x reader if that's ok? (If u don't that's fine!)
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE I LOVE YANDERE CLASS 1-A
SORRY IF I DRAGGED THIS ALONG TOO LONG I HAD SO MANY DIFFERENT IDEAS AND THOUGHTS GOING DOR THIS😭 IDK IF YOU WANTED HEADCANNONS OR LIKE A LITTLE STORY SO I SORTA DID BOTH?? IDK
this sucks so bad im so disappointed what is this everything was so random and pulled out of my ass
okaokay SO LET ME COOK—
i feel like when you first start going to UA you'd be a new student, maybe a little after the usj attack? and the moment you walk in you have EVERYONE'S eyes on you, you looked so sweet and small compared to the rest of them!
so when you walk up to the front of the class to introduce yourself, nobody dares to interrupt you🗣
"my name is Y/N L/N! please take care of me!" you bow, giving them a closed eye smile.
izuku is the first one to run up and talk to you, questioning everything about you. "whats your quirk?! how does it work? why are you coming now for school??—" it goes on and on until he hears, and swears the most angelic thing ever, your laugh.
he feels like the world stopped hearing your laugh, it was so beautiful, just like you! but now you did that, he becomes a stuttering mess, all thoughts leaving his pretty head. he'd do anything to hear that beautiful laugh over and over again but only because of him!
"im glad you asked! my quirk is kinda confusing.. i dont really know much about it but its what i call purple magic! i can basically do anything, i can move things with my mind including people, and kinda like telekinesis but it adds a purple tint surrounding the object!"
everyone was listening to your explanation, two certain boys were listening closely, wondering the possibilities your quirk could have.
"EEEK!! YOUR SO PRECIOUS!" mina was already obsessed with the way you looked, and you were the absolute cutest! she just wanted to lock you up and take you away from the world and have you all to herself!
a few days went by and you had already became friends with just about everyone in the class, atleast everyone except mineta, todoroki, and bakugou. you made it yoyr mission to make todoroki and bakugou your friends, no matter the cost!
you and sato would do weekly baking contests, (he always let you win and messed up on purpose) and he would ve so proud of your amazing deserts! when the two of you weren't baking, you'd be in your room playing video games with eachother or studying! either way, he was just happy to be with you.
koda would always call for your favorite animals in an open park nearby UA, and the two of you would have mini picnics together! with your favorite animals, koda and you would make a big animal pile and cuddle with all of them! bunnies, squirrels, birds, all sorts of local animals would be surrounding the two of you while you two sat close to eachother, sharing sweet treats with one another. (and the stealing of bread by birds..)
whenever it got too cold outside, shouji would wrap his arms around you and act like a personal blanket for you! you two would lay on the grass watching the stars together and he would wrap his arms around you ro keep you warm. whenever you'd fall asleep he'd carry you back towards his home, which ended up with the occasional sleepovers, he was so happy you felt safe enough to sleep near him! even if it wasn't on purpose` he put sleeping pills in the food you ate earlier just for this
tokoyami and you would always hang out training, you learning to control your emotions so people dont start flying, and him trying to control dark shadow. both tokoyami and dark shadow took a liking to you, and they grew to always want to be near you. you just were so happy and cheerful all the time, they couldnt help it! maybe one day they will always be near you, he could lock you inside his home and you'll be together forever, with no one there to stop him!
you and the 6 girls of the class would also have weekly sleepovers, spa days, or just any time they could find to be with you! whenever mineta would try and bother you, uraraka would just make him float away so he wouldn't anymore! the next day, mineta came to class with his face purple, almost like his hair..
out of everyone in the class, you and uraraka got along the best since you both had similar quirks! the two of you talked to eachother about eachothers drawbacks, and decided to train together sometime so you could both get stronger together! of course this didnt go unnoticed by the rest of the class, them all becoming extremely jealous of uraraka.
bakugou, one of the boys you wanted to become friends with, came up to you one day. the rest of the class was scared of what he would do or say to you, but instead he left you, a note?
ᴛᴇxᴛ ᴍᴇ, xxxx-xxx-xxx. ɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ.
he wants to talk to you?! you know you should be feeling happy, but you cant help but be nervous. he was by far, the cutest boy in the school, nobody could deny that. this is your chance! your chance to finally be his friend!!
after school that day you went straight to texting him, and the two of you had a nice conversation about eachothers day, and getting to know eachother. the next day you two came in side by side, talking to eachother like it was only the two of you in the world.
everyone else was furious, why was katsuki fucking bakugou stealing their girl away?! doesn't he know your theirs? god, izuku was so pissed he could've absolutely destroyed his childhood "friend" right then and there. everyone else was just standing there in shock, not knowing what to do. bakugou would simply snap at them if they dare steal his moment with his beautiful girl. they should know better then to do that.
izuku came up to the two of you, hoping to steal you away for a little from the explosive man.
"h-hey Y/N! would you mind answering some questions for me to jot down in my notebook? i really wanna know more about your quirk!"
of course you wouldn't turn down a chance to help your dear friend izuku, so you went with him, leaving bakugou clenching his fists in defeat. maybe one day you'd see how much better he was then izuku, but for now he would wait, he needs to wait. he cant go scaring off his teddy bear can he now?
while answering questions from izuku, none other then shoto todoroki was staring straight into your soul. it was creepy, but he couldn't help himself! you were just too pretty to not look at! he didn't get enough time to look at you last night through your window, you closed your blinds on him and he decided it would be too far to sneak in to your bedroom.
after talking with izuku, you went back to your seat, which happened to be right behind todoroki.
when you sat down, todoroki was already staring right at you, turned around from the front of the classroom. he would have tried talking to you earlier, but everyone was already surronding you like rabid dogs, so he had chosen to watch from afar. atleast until now.
"seems like you got a lot of friends, L/N." this made you laugh, he was always so professional, and severely up tight.
"no need to call me by my last name, please, call me Y/N! and yea, i guess i have.. would you like to be my friend too?"
"sure, Y/N." and with that, he turned back around, smiling at the small yet sweet interaction he had with you. of course while doing so, he got many glares from the rest of the class, clearly jealous he got to talk to you even if it was for a short while.
you of course have no idea about the secret war between your class, they'd all go at eachothers heads just to get your attention, or better, to make you smile. atleast you've successfully gained 19 new obsessed friends?
⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆
okay i think this was shit but lmk!! hope you liked it :)
#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere class 1a x reader#yandere bnha#yandere izuku x reader#bhna x reader#yandere bakusquad#yandere x reader#yandere shoto todoroki#yandere#yandere deku x reader#yandere izuku midoriya
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g e n s o - 1 3.
you groan feeling a sudden pressure hit your head as you wake up slowly in the infirmary.
fluttering your eyes you look around to see bakugou asleep in the chair by your side.
"what..?" you groan feeling disoriented, looking down you see your leg in a cast. "oh cmon...." you whine, waking up bakugou.
"goddamn your loud..." he mutters as he stretches, "took you long enough to wake up.."
"what happened? why am i here?" you ask signaling to your body and around you.
"okay so... you made it to the finals in the 1v1's... fought against me and thats why you're here.." he pauses, "but- you did get third out of everyone"
"really bakugou." you reply with a deadpan expression, "you really had to put me back in a cast after i had just gotten out of one?"
"its not like i was trying to genso!" he shouts, "would you rather me go easy on you and show everyone that you still cant beat me, or fight you like i would with everyone else to show that you are strong?" he asks with a scowl.
you widen your eyes as you realize his reason, "oh..." you look down, "thanks then.. i guess.." you mutter before looking up at him, "okay but seriously though howd i end up in here?? every time i get injured i somehow end up in here but i have no idea how..."
he clears his throat, "thats not important... but now since your up ill be heading out.. damn shitty hair forced me to stay here until you woke up.." he mutters standing up.
"oh.." you sigh slightly looking down. why do i feel kind of disappointed that hes leaving...?
he stops right before he exits, "for what its worth.. i think a lot of pros were impressed by our fight. you did well genso." he states before opening the door.
"thanks.." you mumble with a slight blush covering your cheeks.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you limp into class slowly the next day.
as soon as you open the door, your crushed by mina, "oh my gosh! are you okay?? are you feeling better?? i was so worried y/n!" she rambles pulling away and checking over your body.
"chill out mina... at this rate shes gonna get hurt from you.." chuckles kirishima walking up to you with a soft smile, "how you feeling?"
"way better.." you chuckle, "okay but seriously though.. who took me to the infirmary?? because whenever i get hurt i always end up there, but i dont know how..."
"okay babe.. get ready cause its quite shocking..." giggles mina, "its yours truly... mr. bakugou katsuki over there..." she whispers while jabbing her thumb in his direction.
you let out a laugh, "hah! thats a good one..! but no really.. who is it..?" you sigh as your laughter dies down.
"we're being serious.." repeats kirishima with a slight grin.
you widen your eyes, "no fucking way..." you look at mina, "but he hates me..!"
"well he must hate you soooo much that whenever you get injured during class he just has to pick you up and rush you to the infirmary..!" she says sarcastically.
"yeah.. he did that during entrace exams too! i honestly thought you two were a thing.. kinda like an old couple yknow?" kirishima quips in with a grin.
"yeah exactly!" mina agrees, bouncing on her heels. "im sure everyone in class thinks it too from the way you two act around each other..! theres just- so much tension!" she squeals.
you clasp your hand over her mouth, "shush..!" you blush, pulling her away from bakugous hearing range. "you two are so loud..!"
"is someone getting flusteredddd...?" teases kirishima with a dopey grin.
"kiri!" you gasp, "youre supposed to be on my side here..!" you grunt slapping his arm lightly.
"no way..! do you like him..?" she asks with a slight whisper. "cmon tell ussss..!" she repeats, poking your shoulder.
you blush heavily, "n-no..! i mean- i dont think so..! ughhh.. i dont know- im not sure..!" you respond frustrated.
"yknow what i just heard?" says mina with a grin, "i like him i just dont wanna accept it!!" she answers with enthusiasm.
right as you start to open your mouth mr. aizawa walks in. "this conversation isnt over..!" you whisper before sitting down in your seat.
"listen up everyone" sighs aizawa, "the hero offers for each one of you have came in..." he says before turning on the projector and presenting the results.
you widen your eyes as you find your name with 3632 offers, "geez... thats a lot.."
"now since you all have made a name for yourselves today you all will be figuring out your hero names." states aizawa, "to help with that midnight will be monitoring over you all" he says welcoming midnight to the front before walking out.
you look at the slate on your table. cmon... whats a hero name i can use..? you think groaning slightly.
"can you stop whining genso?! i cant concentrate!" barks bakugou as he hits you in the head with his slate.
huh. maybe genso isnt a bad hero name... you let out a small smile before quickly scribbling it on your board and raising your hand, "im ready..!"
midnight smiles beckoning you to the front, "okay.. im gonna be known as the elemental hero: genso" you state with a small smile.
"traditional japanese! i love it!" claps midnight with a happy smile on her face.
"HEY I MADE THAT NAME UP GENSO! YOU CANT JUST USE THAT AS YOUR HERO NAME-" yells bakugou as he shoots up.
"well then... i guess i can thank you for your brilliant nicknames" you grin playfully, sitting down.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you stare at the paper of offers with your eyebrows furrowed. which offer do i choose...? theres so many..!
soon the bell rings causing you to stand up and place the papers in your backpack. slinging it over your shoulder you head your way out.
"genso..!" calls a voice from behind you, "wait up."
you turn and see bakugou glaring at you, "what is it?" you ask slightly intrigued.
"where are you gonna go for your offer..?" he asks gruffly looking to the side.
"uhh.. im not sure yet. why..?" you ask slightly confused to why he wanted to know.
"you should go for endeavor... one of your weakest elements is fire no..?" he says walking beside you.
you nod a bit, "huh.. your right, maybe i might go for him then. what about you?"
"im going for best jeanist. he is the no. 4 hero for a reason so i might as well see what hes all about.." he mutters.
"really?" you ask incredulously, "i would never see you going for him to be honest... hes so reserved and well.. your so- not reserved..?" you say trying to sound as nice as possible about your true opinion.
"you calling me a mess genso?" he snarls, glaring at you.
"no..! not at all..!" you chuckle sheepishly. "okay well maybe i was..." you admit scratching your neck. he chortles slightly, causing you to widen your eyes in shock. "no way you just laughed..."
he suddenly snaps back to his original self, "the fuck you say..?" he says setting off mini sparks in his palm.
"well.. it was nice seeing you bakugou but ill be off- bye....!" you exclaim, quickly running away.
bakugou stared at you running off, chuckling to himself lightly.
what is this feeling...?
previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12
next part: your all caught up for now!
☆taglist!
@katszumi
@coolgirl458
@niktwazny303
@crumbycrumb3
#mha#my hero academia#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#kacchan#kacchan bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou#mha bakugou#katsuki#bakugo katuski#bakugou x y/n#katsuki x reader#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#bhna fanfiction#bhna#bhna x read er#bakugou bnha#bakugo#t3ag3rs
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How do you draw so well and if you can can you do a tutorial?
well if you wanna see me drawing in action i stream on picarto every tuesday and thursday at 7:45pm eastern time
but if you wanna get good at drawing, practice every day that youre able!!
I also used the 'trial by fire' method pioneered by ME where when im out away from my tablet i draw with only highlighters and inking pens, meaning i have to make every stroke of the pen count and theres no takesies backsies. It can help make you more confident in your pen strokes.
ALSO use reference!! use lots and lots of references when youre practicing, specifically from real photography, I try not to reference other peoples art too much. Drawing from reference is like a game of telephone and the further away from the source material you get the more muddled it can be (hence why i always tell people not to use my art as a reference, i drop a lot of details for my particular artstyle)
i won't do a tutorial on how i draw so well because literally most of my art is fucking around. i barely use construction lines anymore and that is NOT a helpful place to start for new artists it gives them the wrong idea, i promise its better to just draw what feels right to you.
ALSO! keep in mind i've been drawing for a full decade now, so i have a lot of time drawing under my belt that others dont, and the only way i got to be this good at art is by practicing constantly.
I very rarely go a full day without drawing if i can help it. but that style doesnt work for everyone and can often lead to burnout, so BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELF!! give yourself grace and remind yourself that you are still learning just like everyone else.
Idk if this was helpful, but thats my advice.
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is wishing you could be a system a symptom of being one? i was reading your blog yesterday and i got very very sad, and other system content will often make me sad because i relate to feeling like, in system terms, an original personality/memory holder who is too sad and traumatized to function and doesnt want to front, only its like i always have to be me no matter how much i hate me, and hate existing. so as a result i just dont function really. i relate to stuff you said about shutting down when in too much distress, like going emotionally numb, and i also dissociate a lot. but even when my mind is on something else and im acting different, its not really like switching to a different mode of awareness. i think it might be better if it was. i wish i was an alter so i could go dormant forever. im scared that its too late to completely rehaul how i conceptualize... living, thinking, being, etc... im scared i have to be me forever. im not sure this is a normal or appropriate way to feel... and im sorry for asking something so emotionally loaded too. i dont even know what im asking really... i guess just, if you have any advice, and if you ever felt this way before you realized you were a system, and how you realized. thanks if you answer. sorry
Hi, i wanted to try and write a helpful response however it ended up being Way Longer than i expected to say anything substantial so it's under the cut
I can't really give a 100% certain answer to your question—Symptoms like emotional shutdown and dissociation in response to stress/trauma are also possible without necessarily being a system, ultimately I can't say whether or not you are one (it took me a while to even say whether or not I was one haha). I personally didn't have the experience of wishing i could be a system before i figured it out, but I think I've heard from some other systems that they did experience that; I suppose it's different for everyone.
i'd try to give a more helpful response about how i realized i was a system but i actually don't remember very much about it—I guess I was always aware that I had an "other state" of myself with Very distinctly different mannerisms from my own who was pretty consistently "triggered out" by specific situations (the other state was also aware of themself like "oh, i'm in This Mode again"), and then eventually i thought "that might not be normal actually" and started researching about dissociative disorders some more
Regardless of whether or not you have alters/are an alter, I don't think going dormant would solve the problem, even though I absolutely understand the feeling. While we were still discovering our system we were in a pretty bad place, and when we discovered our own emotion-holder she was very angry and sad—which scared me initially, and i Kind of Wished that she would disappear or that I could just be A Normal Regular Singular Person. A while later I calmed down and realized it was not productive to wish things like that, so I tried talking to her and telling her that it was okay to feel angry, but that things can be better now than in the past and we are capable of healing—treating her with compassion
I think having a conversation with A Literal Part of Myself that held our anger and sadness was helpful, but I also think it's possible to do something similar even if you're not a system—to treat yourself with compassion too, I guess is what I'm getting at here.
I didn't think it would get better, but it did. I mean it took a while and there were ups and downs , but as long as you're still here it is never to late to learn to live again and to recover
Ultimately, everyone's circumstances are different and maybe what helped me doesn't apply the same way to you, but please try to remember that things can get better. Healing is possible, i wish you the best
#summarizing the multiparagraph long response the important part is that healing and getting better is possible regardless of whether you're#a system or not and also do not give up hope#ask
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The Notorious C-I-G
💌 🍄 📚 🏜️ 🐝 (you don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want, I already know it’s me 🤭)
Lemon...right?
💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?
Darn you for making me look! 248!
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
Answered this one here and here but here is another: After Andrea met TK and really started opening up her heart and mind to Carlos being gay and in love with another man, she began seeking out queer art, books, shows, so she could learn more about the community her son is a part of. Carlos recommends and lends her things! I touch on this in my fic Wrestling Angels.
📚 ⇢ what’s the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?
I didn't have to say anything. He knew I was shaking.
🏜️ ⇢ what’s your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
I love it when an aspect or overall theme leads a reader to discuss something and it gets a bit more personal and chatty. Fire Island and Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines led to comments in which people shared their memories and feelings about the AIDS crisis and about 9/11 respectively. I guess it makes it seem like the fic has a bit more 'social impact' in a way. It's quite amazing when that happens.
🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
Haha @lemonlyman-dotcom... right? You have been so supportive and friendly from the beginning - the beginning being pre-tumblr when you were leaving such lovely comments on my fics. When I saw you'd set up your tumblr I was so happy to be able to interact with you on here too. And now look!
And @thisbuildinghasfeelings - you were one of the first people I spoke to on here and your kindness and enthusiasm not just towards my writing is just incredible and I feel very lucky you're here.
@heartstringsduet your comment on Afterglow of a Supernova basically changed my life in that it made me instantly more confident in my writing, like it represented a turning point in how I felt about it, and you've always been in my corner. And you've made art for my fics???!!!
@goodways you have been so lovely about my fics I feel like I can never thank you enough and your comments always make me laugh and make me think. Your feedback always means the world to me.
@herefortarlos your enthusiasm for my fics, all fics and this fandom is a thing of beauty and so inspiring.
@welcometololaland you were one of the first people to ever tag me in anything and I remember it vividly because I couldn't believe it haha. Your comments are always so hilarious and make me feel like I've done something right, and without you I wouldn't have written I Was Thinking About Your Mouth, so I am forever grateful for that and for you being such a good sounding board when I complain about work!
@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut mate, you are divine and the fact that you spend any time beta'ing my fics when they are still kinda hot messes is wild to me. Thank you as well for your kindness and generosity!
@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad you are a delight and your comments are like a balm to my soul!
@reyesstrand Also from really early on you were leaving such encouraging comments on my fics and including me in WIP tags and things and I'm so grateful and forever awestruck.
@paperstorm I always cherish in particular how incredible you were about Fire Island (and When Soulmates Swim recently!), and how you helped so much in my hour of need when the whole scary situation around Afterglow of a Supernova happened. Thank you!
There are other people too of course but I worry I'm banging on a bit too much like I'm at the Oscars and the music is going to play over me talking so I just want to wrap up by saying thank you to everyone who has read my fics and commented and left kudos - I've said it before and I'll say it again, it really does blow me away that you're giving your precious free time to my stories in that way.
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GUYS I GOT A REALLY GOOD ONESHOT FIC IDEA FUCK
its like sinner!adam type shit where guitarspear was already an established thing beforehand and adam starts reluctantly staying at the hotel and then lute finds out hes there after not seeing him or fully comprehending he’s a demon now and the first thing she does is go down to the hotel and bust thru the door and is all like “WHERE IS HE?? WTF DID U ALL DO??”
And charlie tells her he hasn’t come out of the room they gave him for days and hasn’t let anyone in because he just feels so damn horrible and insecure about everything and who he is now
And then it’s only when lute shoves past charlie and everyone else then knocks on his door that he lets anyone in, and she’s just kind of in shock and so adam’s like tryna turn away n shit so she cant see what he’s become
but the relief she has to see him at all is just so overwhelming and she doesnt even care what he looks like and she just rushed towards him holds him there for such a long time and he NEEDED that so bad but he’s just like “fuck how can u even look at me right now…”
And shes like “as much as i despise sinners, you aren’t that. Not at all. And even if your body has… changed, you’re still you.”
And she just wants to take in every inch of him after being deprived for so long, and it doesn’t matter the way he has horns, talons, or that his wings have become all thin, tattered and reddish because again, it’s still adam. And that’s all she ever wanted.
And that’s all he ever wanted too, just her, to have her. To never think that’d he wouldn’t be accepted or seen by her again. But now he knows she accepts him, he wants her all over him too.
GOD IM INSANE SAVE ME IM LITERALLY GONNA WRITE THIS WHAT DO WE THINK GUYS
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i barely have any moots on here so im most comfy sharing this on here lmao, anyways rant incoming:
im back to feeling like an emotionless monster and somehow the only emotion im able to feel is this immense amount of self-hate?? like all my life i was craving for validation and the reassurance that ppl do in fact like me and that im at least somewhat desirable, and now i got the validation once more im suddenly feeling more aroace than ever (i never even considered being ace but its getting more and more likely tbh, and im pretty sure im at least on the aro spectrum bc the only crush i ever had is one i made myself have in order to avoid boredom at school but its v much just a result of severe daddy issues)
a funny thing abt myself is also that i do a complete 180 once im rlyrly drunk, means that i get v flirty and playful but overall just much more comfy with expressing my emotions such as appreciation for my friends, happiness, thankfulness etc. i never thought i had that much rizz when drunk lmao but basically i made a guy wanna cuddle with me like the entire evening (+ the morning after) but when it came to be morning and i sobered up i felt such a huge amount of guilt bc i basically woke up feeling...nothing? this boy is there liking all my stories and dropping the sweetest things (he even bought me a deftones album and u guys know how much i love deftones) and im still not feeling a damn thing?? like i got what i always wanted but why do i have to be that weird abt everything? i mean i genuinely like and appreciate him but im v sure its in a platonic way, just the way i like my other friends too. (+ while cuddling, i felt soo repressed by physical touch, as if i was getting crushed and my body could not respond to anything; i basically felt like a doll being dragged around by its owner but ofc i didnt say i was uncomfy bc im a coward lol)
all in all i feel like theres not many things missing until im able to label myself aroace, and by no means i wanna indicate that being aroace is something bad at all. its just such a sad thing for me, realizing i dont feel a thing while im 'playing' with other peoples feelings like some soulless monster.. this just made me realize i'd be horrible at dating and communicating bc the only ppl im comfy with talking abt this matter are my little digital tumblr people >_<
to everyone reading all of that for some unknown reason: tysm, have my (ofc platonic) love <33
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