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pastafossa · 1 year

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how long did it take for your fanfiction to start getting some recognition? did you "advertise" it or "promote" it in any way?

i know that people say this doesn't matter, but i feel like even if you love writing the feeling that you're just talking to yourself gets pretty exhausting at some point. so i'm not talking about having thousands of readers but rather like. what's your advice to have readers at least?

- someone who hasn't even started writing their ideas yet...

LONG POST INCOMING.

First I want you (and everyone else reading who may be struggling with this) to know I'm absolutely with you and generally think 'it doesn't matter' is a horseshit answer. It's this weird thing we do in fanfic that we generally don't apply to other artforms that I've seen. If you're a painter, a playwriter, a novel writer, and you say, 'I want at least a few people to love my paintings, I want some people to come see my play, I want my novel to be published and do at least ok' we all support them, we nod, we agree, we talk about how they can do that successfully. It's considered normal to want some amount of success. But hold up fanfic instead and it becomes, 'how dare you want that praise, you're being egotistical, you should be writing only for yourself'. I'm not saying you can't do that - there are some who do - but it's definitely this bizarre switchup to say there's this single artform in which we can't want attention on our work and that there's something wrong with us if we do. That can be an absolute creativity killer depending on what kind of writer you are (hi, extrovert writer here who only gets writy writy juice from social interaction - aka comments and discussion. So I totally get it being exhausting just doing this on your own).

So let me say this categorically: you're allowed to want things. You're allowed to want kudos, comments, and hits. You're allowed to want messages and asks. You're allowed to want some readers you can talk with about your story.

You. Are. Allowed.

Ok, now that that's out of the way.

Edit: more below the cut cause I didn't realize the length of this on mobile

TRT definitely didn't get popular overnight. The first four chapters were sporadic, and then I took a hiatus due to life things for a couple years. During that time, it kept slowly ticking up bit by bit on AO3, with occasional comments. Iirc it was hovering somewhere around 700 kudos by the time I came back in Jan 2021 - and that's a awesome! It's big! But it's also a number that was gained over a few years, to put it in perspective. It absolutely took off after I came back though, and over the past 2 years both TRT's popularity and the stats of my one-shots in the fandom have grown. Part of that's just the time frame (TRT's been up about 6 years), but it's also due to a couple things that I think built up TRT's popularity.

Building a tumblr presence was huge. Ironically I didn't really intend to do it for advertising; I just wanted a place readers could ask questions or we could all freak out about Matt or I could post some drabbles or updates on the fic. But considering the fact that AO3 and tumblr are the top fic sites online, I wound up promoting my fics unintentionally just by being a friendly, happy tumblr user and fandom goer. All I did was follow the courtesy rules I knew - post stuff regularly, reblog, comment, make friends with other writers, just be friendly in your neighborhood because you love the lady with the gif flower shop on the corner or the wise old pizza maker who serves hot fandom takes all day long. I built familiarity with my writing and name by posting short fics, and by taking part in challenges and prompt lists and short requests for drabbles if I saw them, though that's something that's hard to do if you don't have time (I've got less time now, but I started this blog in the early pandemic so I had aaaaall the time in the world to write and was using it to stay sane). I tagged religiously because I LOVE tags, but that helped, too. Tumblr's search system is half broken but the half that works means people CAN find your writing even if they aren't following. Doing all this over here got me a huge boost over on AO3.

I will say that if you can have a fandom tiktok presence, there's a lot of fic reviewers, edits, and good stuff that can get your fic some readers (I've had some people do this on tiktok for TRT and it sent a surge over). I personally haven't done anything there yet, in part because while I'm on tiktok I try to keep my actual, real person accounts separate from my fic/fandom accounts and i haven't bothered to make a second account solely dedicated to the Pasta name yet.

Longfics on AO3 have the advantage in fic stats in the sense that every time you add a chapter, it gets bumped to the top of the front page and you get seen again. Eventually a lot of people will click out of curiosity. They may not, however, give you a lot of user subs or add to your other fic stats at first, whereas if you do a bunch of oneshots you're more likely to get user subs but less hits on each fic. This is a decision you'll have to make, and I know folks in both camps who built their followings using different methods on each. Either way, it helps if you're posting regularly, either in a long fic or one-shots. I call this the Stephen King method, who said he just writes a ton and throws it all at the wall, and eventually you get enough good despite the bad that you start building a following.

Learn learn learn. This is standard fic advice I always give, but it's still relevant. I think one of the reasons imo TRT has done so well is that I've spent a lot of time over the years learning how to write and edit - I read a ton of books (sometimes just to figure out HOW good authors structure their stories), I took a lot of English classes, I've taken some creative writing courses in my spare time. That two year hiatus was heavily spent doing a lot of research and practice around an original novel I want published one day. And I used ALL of that in TRT, just to see what it was like to put it all together. Be hungry for knowledge, be hungry to learn. The more you learn, the better your fic will be, and the more people that will click.

That learning also includes a looooong string of fanfics that started at a very novice level (hello 12 year old me), to fics that were ok and did moderately well but weren't anything huge. Hell, I had a tumblr account for my previous fandoms before I wandered over to Pastafossa, and while those fics did decently, I never had the huge reaction I've gotten here. But I used each and every one of those fics to learn and grow and adapt. Treat your own fics the same way. If it doesn't get hits, try to learn from it before moving on to the next idea a little wiser and a slightly better writer than before. There will always be people who start to follow you along the way.

A small one, but important: I swear to god, do not shit-talk yourself. Not in the summary, not in the tags, not in the A/Ns. I'm not talking, 'this is my first fic!' That's fine. I mean trashing your own work. Shit like, 'ha ha this sucks, it's terrible but oh well' will absolutely lower your stats, because people will believe you and will ditch your fic. On top of that, it's just mean to yourself, and as I said above, you want to be a good person in the fandom neighborhood. That means not breaking the windows of your own house.

People generally think of summaries as a side note, but a shitty summary can absolutely tank your stats. Treat it like the rest of your fic - this is the trailer before the movie, and it's a huge element of what gets people interested in the first place.

Lastly, like I said at the top, the biggest factor is time. There are people who post one fic and explode in popularity, absolutely. But far, far more little followings are built on the bones of time, of abandoned fics, of muttering and highlighting phrases in books in the middle of the night, of trying and trying and trying until we have at last have a breakthrough and then drag that breakthrough forward with us to the next fic. TRT is absolutely one part lightning in a bottle - the biggest success I've ever had anywhere with my writing, a confluence of fandom factors and world events that gave people (and me!) time to write and read. But it's also standing on the back of whole lot of fics I wrote that look like everyone else's: ones with no comments, low interaction, insults; ones where I had precisely zero idea of what I was doing, but wanted to try anyway. And the way I got through that, as a writer who needs interaction in order to create, was by building friendships in fandom so that even when a fic didn't do all that well, I still had friends I could talk to about the characters, the world, the fandom itself. I asked friends to look them over and give advice. I had friends being my cheerleaders. And if you're an extrovert like me, or just a writer who needs that to create, then those connections are vital as you build up a following.

That's a lot of what I've done. I know there are other ways to build a following, but this is generally what I've done, what I've learned to do, and it seems to have worked. Just remember that there are no bad fics - just learning opportunities. Learn something, and that fic's a success, and work as hard as you can to make those fandom connections to carry you through the process.

I absolutely hope to see your work around one day, so that I can be on of those followers!

#writing advice #fic advice #fic tips #building a following #fanfic #fic #writing tips #tbh i was shocked and still kind of am by how popular trt's become #because i have had ZERO previous experiences in my fic writing time that aligned #BUT #there are absolutely things I did in hindsight I think that helped a ton #and all of the practice and writing fic including the ones with zero interaction helped #i learned how to be a good fandom goer even when i didn't write #because i genuinely loved my little neighborhoods #and i used a lot of that when i started writing again cause why wouldn't i???#also avoid petty fandom drama you don't need to waste your energy on it #i WANT my blog to generally be a positive space cause i've got shit going on elsewhere and i don't need more #but that also means i think that people like wandering through cause they know there's a lot of happy things here #be the person in the neighborhood watering your daisies and putting out a rainbow pinwheel even when ted down the block #is feuding with susan up the block over the height of ted's fence

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chipotlefox · 11 months

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Releasing a MadaTobi plot bunny into the wild-

I was talking with a friend about how big of a difference fonts can make, and the phrase “I will always find you” came up. Now I desperately want to see a MadaTobi fic where that becomes Their Phrase. Like, it starts when they were still enemies. One of them gets in a particularly good hit while escaping, and the other yells after them in anger. I think that would be the first domino, because the one who is running thinks “yeah, he definitely will” and that kickstarts the mutual respect for one another’s skills.

Now my brain is kinda fried and I need to sleep, but anyways the meaning and emphasis of “I will always find you” ends up changing for the two of them until it becomes a vow. A promise that wherever one may go, the other is going to be right there to protect them. You know, all of the wonderful mushy stuff ☺️

#if anyone wants to write/draw this PLEASE DO i have zero energy/time but this is eating my brain #madatobi #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #plot bunny #fic idea

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shy-sapphic-ace · 1 month

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Ok ok so here's my casting for my Robin Hood mechanisms AU (+ some random ideas!)

Robin Hood: Gunpowder Tim (she/her)

Maid Marian: The Toy Soldier (she/her)

Prince John: Jonny D'Ville (he/him) (yes I made Jonny play a guy named John) (he'll probably only be referred to as "the prince")

The Sheriff: Marius von Raum (he/him)

Friar Tuck: Ashes O'Reilly (they/them)

Little John: Drumbot Brian (he/him)

Will Scarlet: Ivy Alexandria (he/she)

And I have a few random ideas for songs or stories, with the intro narration called 'The Highwayman' the next song called Merry Men and then the next narration is 'The Maid Marian' and the next song is Lady Love and it's all abt how Robin and his wife love each other very very much (think like Blood and Whiskey), somewhere I'll have the sheriff and the prince sing a gay little villain song, there will also be a part called 'The Heist' where the merry men plan out a heist to steal from the prince and then their daring escape, near the end there will be the whole contest thing where Robin disguises himself to win the archery contest and gets the prize, and at the end the last narration will be 'The Hospital' or something where the nurse who is actually evil (or something, I'm pretty sure) doesn't treat him right and the last song will be Robin singing to Little John about his end and the song will probably be called Where the Arrow Lands (bury me where the arrow lands, my loyal friend / how tragic, how sad, that it's come to an end) (or something like that I'll work on it) AND THEN HE DIES IN HIS ARMS OOOH SO TRAGIC

Yeahh and I'll have to go re-read the lyrics on the mechs' songs because their style of rhyming is different from what I usually use when writing songs so I'll have to change up my style a bit. (I think they write rhymes a/a/b/c/b or a/b/a/a/b something?? idk I've only really listened but I always write a/a/b/b)

Last thing, this miiight be called "In The Woods Of Nottingham" but the title is a work in progress

Sorry if this is kind of a mess, that's just how my brain feels right now I just Need to get some words down or I might explode

#wow so today was a Hyperfixation day huh #the whole bus ride home I was buzzing with energy #I really wanted to bounce my leg but someone was sitting beside me so I thought it would be annoying to them #so I just very very quickly tapped my fingers to the beat of my music #(which was the mechanisms of course)#I kept bouncing/skipping as I walked home too #and when I got to my house I had to run up and down the stairs a few times to wear off a bit of the energy #& all through supper I was either tapping my fingers or flexing/shaking my hands #(I think maybe I have a bit of adhd?? I don't know??)#so anyway umm yep I'll go plan/write some more of that #most likely the format will be an ao3 fic with a different chapter for every narration or song in their story order #maybe the first chapter explaining who's playing who #there will be no actual music sadly only the song lyrics #because I'm not that good at creating a tune and I play exactly zero instruments #I think that's it!! I will probably give updates as I go along!!#robin hood mechs au #(and that's the tag I decided on I guess)

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senadimell · 2 years

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uuuuugggggggh, I really want this fic to be ALREADY finished at the same level of quality that I produced for the opening bit

(which i guess expecting it to be done and easy discredits how much work went into the opening bit but still....it’s so so far from being done and i wish it was already done because i want to find someone who is also in love with this idea and analysis and talk to them about it)

#look it's a crossover so it's going to be doomed to obscurity #and the fact that i'm trying to ape danged sir terry pratchett does not make this any easier #BUT NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO WRITE THIS IDEA SO GUESS I'M STUCK WITH WRITING IT #i've got about four fics total...#i've only got about four fics total...but only one is conceivably close to completion #and two are frankly above my skill level (this is one of them)#but...i get the feeling that these things are so niche that i am the only one who's gonna properly speak them into existence #(not necessarily niche as in no one will enjoy them but i also zero expect to find someone else writing them the way i want)#if only i had more energy more often to do anything other than army-drag myself once a week to working on any one of them #rose-ten cyborg dystopia thing that combines my favorite fandom-specific tropes has a monster plot #and i've been avoiding it for over a year because i can't bring myself to write this dang next scene #martha character analysis piece is super dang hard because i'm laser focused on every line (i swear i'm gonna have to be a poet or somthng #because i don't think i'm cut out for novel-ing with the amount of scrutiny that each line gets)#and also the martha piece involves Sensitive Subjects and Heavy Things that require respectful research and so. much. thought #susan character study/science-fangirling piece's end is literally in sight but i keep not writing it because i have to do describing #(i hate describing. it's so hard. stupid plot and things that happened are way harder than conversations or thoughts)#and also the remaining scene and ending involves writing about some kinda heavy stuff #then this crossover piece! which combines all of the problems! except i guess objective length #it's supposed to be only 4 chapters max but it's 4 plotted chapters of distilled prose with heavy subject matter and satire #and it needs aforementioned Plot which i don't care much about inventing but really is necessary for the story to work right #people who say fanfiction is easy are wrong actually

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lonelier-version-of-you · 2 years

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Thought I was gonna post this gifset tonight but I might just leave it until tomorrow because I can’t get it to look even slightly decent. Sigh.

#personal tag #on the brink of breaking into tears over here i swear #giffing long scenes is hard #and now i've exhausted myself with this so much that i can't even go and write fic instead or something #because i don't have the energy #so it's just absolutely zero productivity for me today!#normally this is where i'd ask if anyone had asks they wanted to send to distract me but i'm probably too tired to answer asks so #i'm just fucked i suppose

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cassiopeia-core · 9 days

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Hey, how’s it going?!! I was wondering if you could write dad!luke x reader fluffy fic? I had the thought of Luke being a girl dad and it’s driving me nuts.

favourite girls

modern!luke x reader

a/n: i love the idea of girl dad luke! its so sweet and cute and aldfjaldkfjk anyways enjoy :)

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"claire, honey, please go to bed already," you sighed, watching your five year old little bundle of energy chase her father around the house. it was way past her bedtime. "luke, stop encouraging this behaviour. i swear to god, i will start graying before i reach thirty."

luke scooped your daughter up and swung her around in a circle. claire giggled, small fists grabbing at your boyfriends curly black locks. "daddy, please, just five more minutes?" your daughter whined, looking up at luke with those big brown eyes she knew he could never say no to.

you sighed a deeper sigh, feeling an incoming headache on its way. it'd been a really tiring week; your boss had been pushing deadline upon deadline onto you and you were on the verge of multiple simultaneous mental breakdowns.

upon hearing your sigh, luke's heart dropped a little, suddenly feeling that his and his daughters actions, although playful, were very inconsiderate towards you, his lovely sweet girlfriend who wanted nothing more than a night of well deserved sleep. "come on claire bear, off to bed now. mommy's had a really long day okay? how about i read you a bedtime story, yeah?" he spoke softly, slinging your still whining five year old over his shoulder, making his way towards her room. as he passed by you, you shot him a grateful smile, standing up and walking to you and luke's shared bedroom.

you slipped under the warm covers and closed your eyes contentedly, feeling sleep overtake you. a few moments later, you felt the mattress next to you dip down. "luke?" you murmured groggily, hands reaching for him.

"shit baby, did i wake you? i'm so sorry." luke took hold of your hands and pressed a kiss to each one before pulling you close to him.

"s'okay," you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. "thank you so much."

"mama?" you heard the soft pitter-patter of feet, accompanied by your daughter's sleepy voice. "mama, i can't sleep. i want a cuddle. please?"

"of course sweetie." your daughter scrambled into the bed, climbing over you and settling in between you and luke. you kissed her cheek. "good night claire bear."

"g'night mama."

luke watched his two favourite girls succumb to sleep before pressing a kiss to your foreheads, feeling so lucky to have the both of you in one lifetime.

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a/n pt2: again, rushed ending? i have zero experience with children so i hope this was okay <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fluff #pjo #pjo x reader #dad luke x reader #this was so fun to write???

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musette22 · 1 year

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I know this has been said so many times in so many different ways, and I have nothing new to add, really. But I am going to say it anyway, because I am just so ridiculously grateful for fanfiction writers. There are innumerable fanfics out there - incredible, mind-blowing stories that are all shared with us for free. Written out of a pure, profound love for existing stories and characters, a need to know them better, explore them, add to them, do something with them the source material never dared. To make ourselves and others feel better, sometimes worse, but mostly just to make us feel.

And don't get me started on the quality of so much of the fanfiction out there. I know talent is an debatable term, but for want of a better one: the sheer talent and dedication of so many of these authors, most of whom have actual, real life jobs and families and other responsibilities, is just astounding. So many ideas, so many beautiful words, so much creativity. As a fanfiction writer myself, I know that it can sometimes be challenging to be creative, to find time and energy to write, when life is just. So much. And yet the love I have for these characters just leaves me desperately wanting to make time and energy to tell the stories I want to tell. Writing fanfiction is a hobby, yes, but for many people, it's also more than a hobby. It's a passion, a deeply rooted desire, even a community.

As a reader, too, I know how incredibly valuable and important these stories can be. I've spent the past few days doing nothing but devouring fic because I've been feeling too crummy to do anything else, and it's been an absolute blessing. Every fic I read was more amazing than the last. They all made me cry, laugh, think, yearn, and just feel so much better. So, I know this has been said many times before, but I just had to tell you again how much I love you, fanfiction writers. Love you with my whole entire, sappy, zero-chill heart.

Thank you for everything you do, all the hours, the blood, sweat and tears, the love you put into your stories, and thank you for sharing them. For just handing them over and releasing them into our custody once they're done, for all of us to read and enjoy, expecting nothing in return but some kudos and comments. That's incredible, ok? You're all incredible, whether your stories are 'popular' or not. So many people would be utterly bereft without you and your efforts, and I just needed to tell you again how appreciated you are ♥️

#I am a little emotional about this #as you perhaps can tell lmao #it's just #FANFICTION #it's the best!!!!!!!!!!#I'd be lost without it #I'm particularly talking about the stucky fandom #(unsurprisingly)#but it really applies to all fandoms #and all creative writing #all creative hobbies #but I'm specifically talking about fanfiction here #it's just wild and amazing #<3333

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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HELLO!!! OMG I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH ❤️✨. I WAIT FOR YOU EVERYDAY TO POST 💖 YOUR WRITING IS LIKE THE BEST THING IN THIS WORLD 🙇 CAN I PLS REQUEST LOOKISM MEN WITH A HOUSEWIFE READER. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE YOUR WORK 😍🥰

Hey anon, thanks for reading my brainrot and your request! You are adorable and I am loving the energy in this ask.

Gone for hc, but lemme know if you want a lil fic/drabble. I started to write a snippet for Jake and Goo and then realised I wanted to write for more of the boys but it gets a bit repetitive, yknow?

Lookism Boys with Housewife S/O headcanons

Jake Kim

After what feels like a lifetime of instant ramen and worrying about Big Deal, it's nice to have some homecooked meals and know that at least one part of his life is running smoothly.

Will always try to split the chores and errands evenly with you, because it's Jake. And if you wave him away and say no it's fine, he will follow you around anyway because spending time with you? Yes please.

Goo Kim

If you want to be a housewife, knock yourself out, honeybun. If you want to just sit around on your ass all day and do nothing, that's fine too. Goo will hire cleaners. Whatever makes you happy.

Actually loves doing shared chores with you though, and canonically he loves to cook. You do the prepping, he does the actual chef work. A little because it's a fun roleplay for him, and a lot because he does appreciate time together where he can just ramble on to you.

Gun Park

Housewife is.. fine. He can provide more than enough for the both of you. Honestly doesn't have any feelings about it one way or the other.

From a practical and pragmatic sense, it's nice to have someone he trusts look after your home. And then if/when there are kids coming along then it's also a lot easier if you are a stay-at-home parent too.

Samuel Seo

You're not so much a housewife, as a kept wife. Samuel has the vibes that if he can afford to so, and he absolutely can, then you are not lifting a finger.

Yes, he loves you but more because it's a matter of pride that he can provide for you in all areas of your life. You keeping the household running smoothly? Fine. But doing dishes? He has the ridiculous notion that it's below you.

Eugene

Yeah, you're also not going to be a housewife with Eugene. You can be in a power couple with him, but there is zero expectation to be a traditional housewife. You guys employ people for that.

Enjoy your shopping and brunches and being on the board of charities or whatever with other socialites.

DG/James Lee

This guy has enemies and unhinged fans coming out of his butthole, so for your safety and his peace of mind, housewife is great. Leaves pretty much most of the errands to you as his fame prevents him doing even the most simple things (but yet no one catches him beating up minors).

Extremely private with his personal life and with you. You're the only bit of normalcy in his insane life (lives?) and appreciates the sanctuary and home you have both built. Seeing you do the laundry, dust, cook, whatever? It's a sigh of relief for his soul.

Zack Lee/Vasco Tabasco

The two of them are pretty similar here.

Are you kidding? Absoutely loves that you are a housewife, there's something about the fact that you are looking after their wellbeing that they adore.

Has very traditional ideas of gender roles, much to the chagrin of you at times, so them being the financial provider, and the household being your domain sounds great to them. Any issues with that? Don't worry, just let them know and they will bend over backwards to make sure you're happy.

Xiaolong

Takes a long time to get used this, and even then you being a housewife and looking after the household and family never quite feels right.

Don't blame Xiaolong though, he has had a lifetime of servitude. Always feels a little guilty about not looking after you in all areas of your life. He never quite fully breaks out of this mindset but is forever grateful for you and all that you do.

Vin Jin

What housewife? You're on the road touring with him when he's an international platinum-selling rapper.

Johan Seong

Well a positive of you being a housewife is that the further away from danger you are, the better.

However, being the sole financial provider does stress him out. He's had to scrape so goddamn hard for his mother's surgery, and the thought that the he has to do that forever? It does freak him out a little.

Much much prefers an equal partnership.

Eli Jang

Loves the stability of having you being a housewife for Yenna.

He trusts you with his life, and more importantly with Yenna. Eli knows she is in a safe pair of hands with you so that is a massive weight off his mind.

Overall it does a lot for healing the shitty childhood he had. Experiencing the loving home you have cultivated means more to him than you will ever know.

Warren Chae

He is the best househusband, and no one can convince me otherwise. Being able to have a calm life, with a loving partner and his biggest concern are looking after the home and family? After worrying about Hostel? Sign him the fuck up.

Warren will wave you off to work with a smile, the most delicious home-cooked lunch ever and a little note for you to read and perk up your day.

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wolveria · 1 year

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Tough Love Writing Advice

I’m seeing this a lot on AO3 lately, so time for a friendly PSA.

In your notes/tags/summary, STOP saying your fic sucks. Even if it’s self-deprecation, it’s not doing you any favors. Think of it this way. If you tell me your story is terrible, why should I keep reading?

STOP saying you suck at summaries, especially in your summary. I want to know what your story is about. I would rather have a "bad" summary than no summary at all. No one cares if you “suck” at summaries. They just want to read.

STOP saying your fic is garbage and you didn’t bother to proofread it. Again, related to above, I have limited time and energy to read. I’m going to choose stories that appeal to me. If you’re telling me right out the gate your fic is garbage and you don’t care enough to even give it a glance over, then why should I stick around? Why should anyone?

You’re doing yourself a great disservice by knocking yourself down before a reader even gets to your story. Even if writing is a hobby for you, it’s a bad habit to start off with the self-deprecation. It builds zero confidence and gives you an escape to not commit to anything.

Not to sound like a hard ass, but I did this for years. Decades even. And it set me back for so long, and it makes me sad to see so many writers doing it.

It doesn’t matter if your fic is actual garbage (I disagree any art is garbage), or that you suck at summaries. You don’t need to announce it! You just keep practicing to get better. And it's hard to get better when you constantly tell yourself what you create isn't good enough to enjoy.

#writing #writing advice #fanfiction #advice #ao3 #sorry to sound harsh but it's both sad and annoying #i want to get to your lovely stories without having to dig through self-loathing to get there #it gets exhausting after a while #plus your fics do not suck! i love them!

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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I have a pretty good one awhile ago but I don't ever see myself writing it.

Reader and Eddie are good friends, Argyle drops by his trailer to buy, and he ends up flirting with the reader. Later reader and Eddie go to a party, Argyle is there, and in sure you know where it goes from there

Argyle x fem!reader

You can call me names if you call me up

Warnings:18+ Weed dealing, weed smoking, mentions of drinking, slight mentions of hellcheer? (eddie has a crush and we make fun of him for it) kissing, semi public fingering (f! receiving)

Word count: 5.8k

beta’d by @superblysubpar

Authors note: This is my first ever Argyle fic! Thank you @sleepy-princ3ss for letting me write this! I had a lot of fun this one but it’s scary to write a new character so let me know what you think! I also had a good time writing Eddie as our best friend who doesn’t want to fuck us. Wild right? Still, there’s lots of Eddie in here too 💕

The summer heat always feels extra sticky inside Eddie’s trailer this time of year, the stale breeze that floats through his cracked window does nothing to cool you down. Thumbing through the worn covers of the records Eddie keeps in his room you hum along to the last few chords of Ride The Lightning. When the covers of Back In Black and Blizzard of Oz stick together, you grimace as you pull them apart. A crumpled cut of a babe from a Heavy Metal Magazine is the ‘glue’ that was holding them together.

“Eww Eddie! What the fuck?” god, your best friend was gross.

Clumsy loud footsteps bring him to the entrance of his room, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, his face flushes an even deeper shade of red when his eyes zero in on what you’re glaring at.

“I - uh,” coughing nervously, he scratches the back of his neck, the chain wrapped around his wrist sliding down his arm, “I don’t - I don’t know how that got there.”

Scoffing with a roll of your eyes you examine it a little more closely, careful not to touch it. The blond hair and the big blue eyes were a dead give away why this had to have been his favorite.

“She kinda looks like Chrissy don’t you think? Like if she got a metal makeover or whatever you’d call this,” snorting when his face turns into a tomato, his own glare takes over his features when he narrows his eyes at you.

“Why are you even snooping through my records, this one just started?” blinking quickly with embarrassment he looks like he’s ready to explode and you’ve never been more pleased with yourself.

Opening your mouth ready to bite back with something that you were sure was going to send him over the edge, the sound of three quick knocks followed by a single fourth one cuts you off before you can even start.

“Who’s that?” confused at his lack of communication with anyone crashing your hang out, he snaps - gesturing for you to step away from his records before he answers you.

He’s halfway out his bedroom door with you quick on his heels when he finally does.

“Jonathan and his friend from Cali are here to pick up real quick,” groaning at the sound of Jonathan’s name, Eddie laughs loudly before signaling for you to shut up with a finger to his lips.

It wasn’t that you hated Jonathan, he was just always such a downer when he’d join in on your smoke sessions.

Opening the door when you cross your arms with a nod signaling you’ll behave, he turns his charismatic Munson charm up to a ten with a wide grin.

“Byers,” giving him a slight bow, he extends his tattooed arm wide inviting them in, “Byer’s friend.”

You see Jonathan first, who gives you an awkward small wave and a tight lipped grin, lifting three fingers you give him the same energy.

“Oh hey man, the name’s Argyle excited to see what kinda weed you got out here,” Jonathan’s cute friend that follows him in was not what you expected as he clasps his hands together rubbing his palms excitedly stepping through the threshold.

Chestnut hair longer than Eddie’s sways as he walks in, the top of it hidden by a flipped bill green cap. Its smooth texture makes your hand twitch, you’re almost positive it’d feel like silk against your fingertips. A big dopey smile graces his full pink tinged lips as his already bloodshot brown eyes meet yours when he finally turns to see you in the hallway.

All the loud colors and clashing designs on his clothes makes the corners of your mouth tug up. Curiosity piqued, you throw him a more flirtatious wave, fluttering your lashes for good measure.

Eddie rolls his eyes from behind him catching onto your antics, but Argyle looks like he’s been turned to stone, frozen in place as he takes in your barely covered frame. Leaning a shoulder against the wall you watch his eyes trail up the uncovered expanse of your legs till he hits the frayed ends of your jean shorts, your spaghetti strap tank top gives him the perfect view of the curve of your breasts barely hidden beneath the thin fabric. Sweat beading off your heat kissed skin.

Clearing his throat he shakes his head when he feels his jaw go slack, glancing worriedly at Eddie who’s already too busy rummaging around the living room looking for his trusty metal lunch box.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just my partner in crime,” waving a dismissive ringed hand in your direction as he digs behind the couch Jonathan just got settled on, Argyle’s face falls slightly at the nickname.

That still didn’t stop him from watching you push yourself off the wall and walk to the kitchen island, sitting yourself on the cleared spot on top. Legs moving to the beat of the music still bleeding out from the speakers in Eddie’s room, you knew he was completely transfixed on you as he rocked back on his heels.

“Got it boys!” cheering himself on loudly, it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Only you would lose your lunch box full of drugs Munson,” winking at Argyle after you roast your best friend, his smile turns shy when he looks away.

“Bold of you to insult me when you smoke for free,” squinting with threatening eyes, he flips the lid open, the metal connecting with the wood of the coffee table in a loud clunk.

Sticking your tongue out at him he scoffs before turning his attention towards Jonathan pulling out two different bags of the new strains Rick had just supplied him with.

Argyle watches you both with confused eyes, unsure what to think of your banter as he feels the shift in your stare. The heat of it makes all the blood rush to his cheeks when he dares to meet it. Waving him over, you remind him to actually finish walking in. Eyes going wide at the realization, he looks down as he walks over to stand in the space right next to you.

Leaning his back against the formica countertop, your knee brushes the side of his arm with every small kick of your dancing feet. He smells like the kind of weed that makes you feel bad for whatever Eddie’s about to sell them and a hint of an earthy toned cologne. Dark eyes lifting up to yours, his breath catches in his throat when you meet his gaze instantly.

“Sooo, how’s it going?” purposely nudging him this time, you get a smile to finally break across his nervous face.

“It’s uhh- it’s good, Jonathan’s mom is super nice. Her cooking is shmackin,” giggling a little, he told himself it was because of the lingering effects of the weed they smoked on the way here, not because of the way you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you listened.

“Oh yeah, dinner at Joyce’s is always a hit. She really is the sweetest,” eyes crinkling in the corners when you grin at him, he was even cuter this close.

“How long are you visiting?” resting your chin on your shoulder when you look up at him, the height difference is still noticeable despite your advantage. His cheeks turn bubble gum pink at your flirty questioning.

“Just for a few weeks, I don’t want to put them out too much you know? She’s got a full house over there with everyone back,” you catch a hint of sadness in his mellow voice. He missed his best friend, that was more than evident. The thought of only seeing Eddie a few weeks out of the year sounded miserable.

“So you and Jonathan huh? How’d that even happen?” The difference in their personalities was astounding, but even you had to admit that Byers came back from California a little more relaxed. Meeting Argyle you’re starting to figure out why.

“Ahh yeah, dudes was like having a total meltdown at school one day about some stuff with Nancy, I felt bad you know, he looked like someone kicked his dog.” Glancing over at his friend he laughs at the memory.

“So I just showed him the ways of Purple Palm Tree delight and the rest was history.” Smirking proudly when he looks at you, his eyes briefly drift towards your lips curled up into their own grin.

“Finally! Someone got Byers to chill out!” Your praise is loud enough to get a side eye from Jonathan and a laugh from his cute friend.

“It’s super nice of you to come all this way to visit Argyle, I hope you make the most of your time here,” sweetness drips from your words making his eyes grow as big as saucers when he catches the slight invitation hidden inside them.

Jonathan finally speaks loud enough for the whole room to hear, snapping your attention away from the pretty stoner boy.

“Are you guys going to the party at Rick’s tonight?” shoving the bag of weed he just bought in his back pocket, his beady eyes dart between you and Eddie.

Argyle’s still in his own world and Eddie’s got a front row seat to his completely smitten gaze dead set on your face. Despite being annoyed with you all afternoon, you’d always been a good wingman when he needed it. Lips pulling up in a mischievous smirk he wiggles his eyebrows at you before answering.

“We are!”flipping the lid to his lunch box shut with obnoxious force, you’re truly shocked he hasn’t broken it yet with his need for dramatic flair.

The sound of metal clanking loudly snaps Argyle out of whatever lovesick daze you already had him in from just from batting your lashes and showing a little interest. His eyes connect with Eddie's, a sheepish look taking over his face from being caught openly gawking.

“We are? what part-“ Eddie glares at you before cutting you off.

“The party I was literally just telling you about before they got here,” he looks pointedly at the boy shuffling his feet next to you.

Argyle’s eyes stay fixated on the dirty carpeted floor doing his best not to stare, completely oblivious to the way Eddie was trying to help him out, not scold him.

Glancing over at the cowering boy, it’s like a light bulb flashes on top of your head when you realize Eddie was trying to help you get laid.

“Ohhh that party! Sorry, stoner memory you know?” bumping your shoulder with his, your lips twist up in a grin when the chocolate of his eyes meet yours, “Totally going”

The look on Argyle’s face is hard to read as a mixture of excitement and fear cross over his features at the same time. Shifting uneasily, he keeps looking at Eddie from the corner of his eye but he can’t stop the smile that slowly spreads across his soft lips, big pearly whites flashing at you.

“C-cool, I’ll totally see you there,” coughing as he scratches the back of his neck before quickly turning his attention to Eddie, “And uhh- you too man, I’ll uh see you there too!” the last part comes out loud enough to be a yell, his nerves making his voice shake.

“Uhhh, yeah man. For sure,” Eddie’s tone is laced with confusion, eyebrows raised in question as he looks at Argyle like he’s growing a second head.

Jonathan looks at his friend with wide eyes, his cheeks turning rosy from embarrassment from his outburst. Shaking his head, he stands up with a pat on his thighs - giving the universal gesture for ‘it’s time to go’

“Alright, well this got awkward. I think we’re gonna head out, we’ll see you guys tonight,” beckoning his friend to follow him towards the front door, he steals one last look at you before almost tripping over his own feet following Jonathan, flashing you a lopsided grin.

Shutting the door behind them Eddie turns to you with a smirk that you want to smack off his face.

“Look if that’s what you’re into -“ you throw a stray Readers Digest at Eddie before he has a chance to finish teasing you.

“Oh? Would you like him more in a pleated skirt waving some Pom Pom’s for Jason and his goons?” jumping off the counter you go for the jugular, your smirk growing when you get the same hard glare from earlier in his room.

“Listen, Caspian likes who he likes. I’m just the guy behind the wheel,” hands raised in mock defense, you snort rolling your eyes walking away with crossed arms.

“Eddie, your dick isn’t the Prince of fucking Narnia,” his boisterous laugh booms over the music and your glad he can’t see the way your lips twitch up at his antics, butterflies making their way inside your stomach at the thought of seeing Argyle’s goofy smile again again.

——

You’ve always hated parties, especially Reefer Rick parties. Messy and way too loud, it wasn’t just the usual crowd at Harrington's, dodging leering stares around every corner, you cling to Eddie’s arm as a deterrent.

“I don’t know what you were thinking wearing that skirt to Rick’s,” laughing at the permanent look of disgust that was stuck on your face as the two of you weave through the crowd, you turn your head up to stick your tongue out.

“You’re gonna give that poor kid a heart attack,” Eddie shakes his head when he sees the Cheshire smile that takes over your face as you approach the makeshift drink station, “Death by bone - Byers!”

Eddie’s outburst makes you jump when your eyes meet Argyle’s from over the keg on the dining room table, the stoned grin on his face faltering when he sees your arm wrapped tightly around Eddie’s. Big brown eyes only grow bigger when he gets a glimpse of the expanse of your legs and another thin tank top covering your chest like earlier, leaving little for his imagination.

The rosy color comes back to his cheeks when you let go of Eddie as you approach with a smile that seemed to be reserved just for him pretty on your glossed lips.

“Hey Argyle,” breathy and smitten, your own cheeks heat up when the corner of his mouth turns up, lopsided just how you like.

“Hey - wow, you look - wow - yeah you look gorgeful,” stumbling over his words, Jonathan looks exasperated with his best friend already, “I mean gorgeous, err — um beautiful.”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows in a greeting at you before taking a sip from his red solo cup, doing his best to ignore the stuttering mess next to him as he greets Eddie with their dude shake.

Argyle catches Eddie’s passive stare and it only seems to make him more nervous.

“Hey man, you look, you look uhh great too!” stammering a little less, his voice raises a few octaves borderline yelling just like in the living room earlier.

“Careful Argyle, keep smooth talking me like this and I’m gonna think you want me and not my friend here,” Eddie winks with a dimpled grin spread wide across his face before he scopes out the scene of the party. Zeroing in on a home base on the couch in the living room that sat miraculously unoccupied.

“Think I’m gonna post up, you know what they say ‘When in Rome’,” he gestures with his head to the spot to Jonathan, “Wanna join? I got a joint with our name on it.”

“Isn’t Rick gonna get pissed at you for selling at his house?” finally tearing your eyes away from Argyle who’s openly gaping at Eddie, you look up at your best friend.

“Pffft, please. It’s not like he’s not going to see the fruits of my labor, it’s fine, trust me. He’s probably already plastered and passed out on his waterbed anyway,” shrugging off your concern he looks at Jonathan expectantly.

“You good with that buddy?” clapping a hand on his friend's back, Argyle’s brown eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie, repeating the words “my friend” like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Yeah, he’ll protect me from all the creeps won’t you,” grabbing his hand, the heat of his palm is an instant comfort against yours. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look up at him from under your lashes. His cheeks turn the color of cherry blossoms when he finally meets your stare, squeezing your hand gently, he looks back at the two boys finding his nerve.

“Yeah I’ll protect this pretty little princess with my life man,” saluting your best friend, Eddie raises his eyebrows seemingly unimpressed before turning back to Jonathan.

“Ready?” ignoring Argyle’s pledge you snort at Eddie’s casual bitchiness.

“Yeah, let's go. Look, be cool man, don’t take anything anyone here offers you, got it? I’m not taking care of you again like that time you ate the mushrooms you found in the woods,” Jonathan looks a lot like the guy you’d always known talking to his friend like he would his little brother with a finger pointed in Argyle’s face.

“There'll be no mushroom consumption on my watch, Byers,” mocking Argyle’s salute, your antics earn an eye roll from Eddie knowing damn well if the offer was given to both of you, you’d fold.

“Alright! You kiddos, have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Eddie grabs Jonathan by the shoulders aggressive enough to have his beer slosh over the lid and you were almost positive that annoyed scowl would be stuck on his face all night.

Watching them till they both got lost in the crowd of bodies, you and Argyle finally dare to face each other. The air between you thickening now that you were alone, and he was still very much holding your hand.

“Do-“

“How-“

It was like a cheap rom com the way you both went to talk at the same time, cheeks heating up as you both look at the ground, a new shyness taking over. Squeezing his hand you encourage him.

“You first,” soft and sweet, you swear you his pupils dilate from the way you look at him.

Argyle gets the same expression on his face Eddie does when he’s forced to talk to Chrissy when she comes to buy weed for her friends. He was silently hyping himself up. Straightening his shoulders he clears his throat before the smile that made your stomach do flips graces his kissable lips.

“Can I get the pretty lady a beveregino?”

A stumbling drunk someone knocks into you before you have a chance to give an answer. Flying into his chest he lets go of your hand to grab at your hips, helping you regain your balance. The slurred apology falls on deaf ears when you and Argyle lock eyes from this close, chest to chest his fingers dig into you just enough to notice.

“I’m not much of a drinker, more of a stoner. Wanna go by the lake? I stole a joint from Eddie before we left,” grinning with pride at your sticky fingers, his lips twitch up, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Woman after my own heart, hell yeah! Let's blow this popsicle stand,” turning you around he keeps his hands on your hips, lips coming close to your ear from behind, “Lead the way my weed smoking goddess”

Goosebumps rise, dancing across your skin at the feeling of his warm breath fanning down your neck as you lead him through the crowd. His hands never leave their spot from your hips, their grip tightening as you get closer to the sliding glass door that takes you out to Rick’s backyard.

Stepping onto the wooden deck he finally lets you go, there’s just a few stragglers outside smoking cigarettes too lost in their own conversation to notice the two of you. The air has lost most of its humidity, leaving the night in a post heatwave glow. The stars gleam bright next to the moon in the clear night sky, reflecting off the water it lights your way as you walk hand in hand down to the lake. Stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye the whole way down, you catch him doing the same thing, both of you giggling every time your eyes meet.

Finding a place nestled next to Rick’s boat house, you were far enough from the party for the loud music and constant chattering to seem like a faint noise in the background. The laps of the water hitting the shore take center stage as you curl your legs under your thighs when you sit like the princess he claimed you to be on the plush grass.

His knee brushes yours when he plops down Indian style next to you, his curious eyes follow yours as you look down at your exposed cleavage. Digging into your bra you pull a perfectly rolled joint with a smug smirk on your face, twirling it around in your dainty fingers he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.

“I thought chicks only did that in movies, that’s some secret spy shit,.” the smile he gives you makes you want to squirm, “Crafty and beautiful.”

Not used to the kind of confidence he was giving you alone like this, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“Please, Eddie’s just oblivious,” scoffing, your face feels like the hottest part of the day from words that were sweeter than the ice cream cone you had earlier at Benny’s.

“I think it’s a little bit of both,” winking as he leans back, eyes watching you the way every woman dreams of as you search for a lighter.

“I think Eddie still has the lighter,” the cute pout that pulls at your bottom lip has his fingers twitching.

Holding up his index finger he starts digging through his multicolored jogger pockets.

“No need to worry, I’ve got us covered beautiful,” pulling out a bright yellow Surfer Boy Pizza one, he hands it to you with a lazy lopsided grin.

“My hero,” leaning forward as you snatch it, you dare to press a chaste kiss on his cheek as a token of your gratitude.

His eyes go wide enough to see the whites behind them and that perfect kind of smile that pushes against his cheeks is almost brighter than the moon hanging in the sky.

Scooting closer when you flick the lighter, the breeze that washes over the lake has other plans when it keeps snuffing the flame out. After the third failed attempt Argyle scoots closer, shoulders and thighs touching his big hands cover yours as a shield.

“Thank you,” daring to look at him from this close, his eyes meet yours almost instantly, catching the way they flutter down to your lips and how he has to wet his own after.

Tearing your gaze away, you focus on lighting the joint, the flame catching almost instantly with his help. Twirling it around so it burns even, he lets his hands fall at the same time as you. The palm of yours landing on the top of his, your eyes meeting again as you hollow out your cheeks taking the first hit. He just smirks, not moving an inch, the heat of his body is warm against your skin from this close.

The silence is comfortable as the two of you pass the joint back and forth for a while, fingers brushing purposefully with every hand off. Leaning completely against each other with pinkies hooked between you, he’s the one that breaks the silence when you hit the middle of the joint.

“So have you lived here your whole life?” plucking at the grass next to him he looks up at you with soft eyes as you finish filling your lungs.

“Yep, pretty much. My parents lived in Indianapolis till I was three then moved here for a quieter life,” snorting at the cliche of it, you pass him the joint, “What about you? Always been in California?”

“Yeah, it’s just me and my mom. She’s like the best ever though, so, you know I don’t really need anyone else but her,” taking a big hit of the joint so he didn’t have to elaborate further, you changed the subject.

“Would you ever leave? Like, move somewhere else?” it’s your turn to pick at the grass, the nerves of getting to know a boy getting the best of you.

“What? Like here?” smirking at you when he hands you the joint, your cheeks heat up at what he’s implying.

“No! Don’t move to Hawkins, there’s nothing here,” smiling around the end of the joint you take a hit to distract yourself from his playful stare.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty cool to me so far,” you don’t miss the way his pinky squeezes yours after the sentence leaves his mouth, eyes looking at you pointedly daring you to catch on.

“You wouldn’t survive the winters, I’m sure of it,” looking at him from under the hood of your lashes, your teeth tug at your bottom lip barely hiding your smile when you hand him back the joint.

“What about you? Do you wanna move?” his eyes glaze over when he takes his hit starting to reach the end of it, your bodies buzzing with the high and the excitement of a new crush.

“More than anything, Community College is just really cheap out here and I don’t know what I want to do yet, so the plan is to move anywhere that's not here after I figure that out,” sighing at the thought of finally leaving Hawkins you meet his gaze when you feel the chocolate of his eyes on you.

“I’m going to Community College too! And I also don’t know what I’m doing! Look at us two peas in a pod man,” he’s loud with excitement sending you into a fit of giggles and you lean even deeper into his side as he hands you the joint.

“Just need Eddie hurry it up, he finally graduated but he still has to take two summer school classes. We’re supposed to do this college thing together,” he catches the small frustrated pout you try to hide.

It’s quiet for a minute, the elephant in the room coming back as the sound of the water and crickets fill your ears.

“So you and Eddie like never..?” not bold enough to meet your side eye after the question leaves his mouth, you smirk as you take another rip. Exhaling slowly before handing it back to him.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids so naturally, we tried kissing once. It happened the summer before Junior year,” sticking your tongue out like there was a bad taste in your mouth, the memory makes you shudder, “Too weird, we’re too close.”

Argyle just nods trying to keep his poker face as he takes a hit when he hears that Eddie has actually kissed you before, but you catch on quick.

“Besides, despite the metal appearance,” leaning closer like you were about to indulge in a secret you whisper, “He likes cheerleaders.”

Earning a snort from him the smoke of his inhale flows freely out his nose and mouth as he chuckles at your antics.

“And I like pizza delivery boys, especially cute ones from California,” the weed settles enough to make you feel bold and you watch him freeze at your flirty words.

He slowly meets your gaze, bloodshot eyes scanning your face for any trace of humor but he’s only met with the hungry look in yours staring at his lips, and he swears your brows furrow with want when your tongue glides across wetting your bottom lip.

“Yeah?” his voice cracks when he puts out the remainder of the joint into the ground, angling his body more towards yours.

Nodding, you squeeze your hooked pinky with his silently begging him to give you what you want.

Taking your cue, he leans forward close enough for your noses to touch, the hesitation to fully commit has your lips brushing feather light against his. You can taste the last of the joint as you breath each other in, grabbing a fist full of his shirt when you’ve finally had enough, you close the gap with a satisfied hum when they mold instantly with yours.

It feels like the Fourth of July behind your closed lids, still a month away but the fireworks you swear you feel blur your vision when you lose yourself in him. Begging for more when your tongue swipes across his bottom lip, he groans low when he gives you everything you want. Tongues and teeth clash together desperate like years of pining finally come to an end despite it being less than a day, maybe it was the weed or maybe it was him, but it feels like it’s everything you want and more.

The initial intensity dwindles as you start to move lazy and slow against each other. Taking his time, he savors every giggle and gasp he pulls from you. Your hands find their way into his long hair, it’s even softer than you imagined when your fingers run through it. His hat falls off when you give it a gentle tug at the base of his neck.

Working up enough courage to pull you on his lap, he swallows your moan when you feel the bulge in his pants. The lace panties you wore just for him and the thin material of his joggers is the only thing between you and what’s underneath. Your skirt sits bunched up at your hips with his hands and you can’t help it when you rock against him, feeling every inch of him against your clit.

Pulling you down closer, his lips take a break from yours to make their way over your jaw and down the curve of your neck. Nipping and sucking against all the sweet spots that sit nestled just behind your ear. A high pitched whine escapes you when he applies just the right amount of pressure with his teeth, smiling against your skin, his nose nudges against your earlobe, a soft “Yeah?” sending your nerves down your spine.

His hands make their way to your thighs squeezing at the soft fat before his fingertips drag their way across the expanse of them finding their new home at the curve of your ass. Toying with the sides of your underwear you collect his lips again with your fingers holding onto his chin.

Rocking with a little more force when your tongues meet again, his hands grip you harder making you bite his lip in response.

“You- you can touch me,” your voice is quiet when you dare to say the words out loud, his lips stopping abruptly against yours.

“A-are you sure?” his eyes look black even in the moonlight when they meet yours from over the bridge of your nose.

Nodding against him, you encourage his hand as your lips meet his again, pulling your panties to the side he groans loud into your mouth when he’s met with your slick folds coating his fingertips.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re real,” staring up at you, he’s mesmerized at the way you shudder when the pads of his long fingers rub circles on your clit.

Mewling when he lets the tip of his middle finger poke at your entrance, you dig your nails into his broad shoulders when he finally pushes one in, your velvet walls gripping him hard, pulling him deeper. His hips jut up at the sensation only adding to how good it all feels.

“G- god Argyle don’t - don’t stop please,” your demand comes out as a whine when he adds a second finger, curving them slightly brushing that spongy spot inside of you.

“I like that, I like when you say my name like that,” the pad of his thumb meets your bundle of nerves as you start to shamelessly ride his hand, the need to cum taking over all the bashfulness from before.

“Yeah?”

Nodding against the side of your face he nips at your jaw before taking your lips, the strokes of his fingers becoming more deliberate.

He manages to say, “Do it again” between kisses as he curves his fingers once more, getting him exactly what he asked for.

Kisses turn sloppy as you get closer to your release, your hands leave their place on his shoulders to dig at the roots at the nape of his neck, tugging the way that earned you a moan the last time.

He increases the speed of his fingers, the sound of how wet you are is loud enough to be embarrassing but it only makes him twitch inside his pants as he thrusts up, your mouth falling open against his.

“I’m gonna - god - I’m gonna cum,” pulling his hair hard enough it should hurt, he only pushes himself deeper in response, the new intensity sending you over the edge.

“Yeah? Good, come on let me feel it,” his voice is hardly recognizable the moment those words come out of your mouth. Deep and thick with want, it has your thighs shaking as you drench his fingers, face buried in the crook of his neck you let your orgasm wash over you like a storm.

“Jesus, you look like an angel right now,” his voice comes out like a whisper, almost like he’s saying it to himself.

His hips stop their movements as his fingers slow their pace when he feels your body start to calm down, pulling them out despite the fight of your walls they keep fluttering around nothing from the aftershock.

Your gasp is quiet against his skin when you don’t feel so full anymore. You’re too stoned and too tired to open your eyes when you hear the sound of him sucking his fingers clean.

“You’re sweeter than fucking pineapple, I swear,” chuckling at his own revelation your lips tug up into a smirk finally having the strength to meet his gaze.

“You like pineapple?” you had no idea the question would elicit such a strong response until his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Do I like pineapple? Do I like -“ Jonathan’s panicked voice rings out over the lake interrupting the out of body experience Argyle was about to have about fruit.

“Come on guys, Rick kicked Eddie out for selling at his party!”

#argyle #argyle stranger things #argyle smut #argyle x reader #argyle x you #argyle x y/n #argyle imagine #stranger things argyle #argyle x fem!reader #eddie munson #jonathan byers #eduardo franco #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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bloodynereid · 1 month

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Hellllooooo! I was wondering if you could write a Jordan Li x freshman reader where they hide their relationship because they have more important matters at hand like The Woods.

Maybe they don't want to spoil a good thing, so secret moments and glances in a crowded room and going back to each other's arms late in the night will have to do for now.

Until one day they get caught? Maybe reader got hurt and Jordan looses their shit? Idk, anything's fine rlly. Have a nice one!

Stolen Kisses | headcanons

pairing: jordan li x gn! reader

tw: depictions of violence, kissing, broken bones, concussion, compound v, vought, mentions of jordan's parents

description: sometimes horrible things have the best outcomes.

a/n: hiii sorry for how long this took to write! originally this was going to be a fully fleshed fic but i have like zero energy to write atm so you get some headcanons! anyways hope you enjoy and lmk what you think <3

You met Jordan in a lecture at the beginning of the year. She was a sophomore but needed a certain credit to be able to graduate and had somehow chose to go to the lecture you were also attending.

It started out with sharing notes and memes over texts, that quickly evolved into long hours spent talking over the phone until the early hours of the morning.

You both had feelings for each other but were hesitant to say anything, especially because you constantly saw Jordan out with other people at parties.

It was a trip to Europe over the summer that changed things. Jordan kissed you under the Eiffel Tower and you constantly reminded him how cheesy that was but they said it was worth it.

You had wanted to tell the world about your relationship but because of Jordan’s relationship with their parents and the stakes of God U, you both kept quiet.

Once you both went back to classes and the summer was over, life became even more complicated when things (Luke) more or less blew up.

You were obviously happy to help your friends figure out what was going on with The Woods and you thought it would allow you to spend more time with Jordan.

However, this only pushed your relationship into being more secretive because Jordan was worried sick that Vought might come after you just for being involved with them, even after your constant reassurances that you were in this together.

So your relationship devolved into stolen kisses in dark corners and brushes of clothes.

That all changed when you were trying to subdue Luke’s brother, Sam. You ended up getting thrown through a wall, and since your powers didn’t involve rapid healing, you were left a bloody mess in the garden.

Jordan realized that they had been so wrong about hiding your relationship when he cradled you in their arms.

Thankfully, you were able to get to a hospital quickly and made it out with only a minor concussion and a few broken bones - thanks to Compound V.

Jordan had been sitting in a very uncomfortable hospital chair when you started to stir, finally showing a sign of life by clutching her hand in yours.

You groggily came to and smiled at Jordan, who immediately hugged you (carefully) and kissed you with so much passion and love that you could hardly believe you were actually awake.

All in all, it had only taken you nearly dying to make Jordan realize that they were ready to scream to the world that you were theirs.

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darcydoesfuckall · 1 month

Text

Why you should write that AO3 comment:

Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.

Table of Contents:

"Commenting is too much effort!"

"I don't know what to write!"

Do you want more fanfic?

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

"Commenting is too much effort!"

Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.

AO3 comments are not the SAT:

This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.

Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:

"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"

A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.

Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.

Onto my second argument.

Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:

You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.

Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".

"I don't know what to write!"

Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.

But if you want fancy...?

Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.

Let me break it down for you.

"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."

The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)

There are specific details about what I liked.

"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."

Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.

Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.

You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.

"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."

Gratitude.

Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)

"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."

Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)

A funny comment to sign off.

Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.

Do you want more fanfic?

Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

But I digress.

When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.

My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers

You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

My final appeal is a moral one.

Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.

You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?

Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.

If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #GO fandom I'm looking at you #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable wives #ineffable husbands fic rec #ineffable idiots #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses

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sailoryooons · 7 months

Note

i’m salivating over my first ever haliween ahhhhhhhggggjtjekwldlcjwkwnf. anyways, i trust you implicitly, so i’m gonna do the random thing:

milky way + princess peach + the craft 👁️👄👁️

(ily 🦐)

❀ Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x witch!f. reader

❀ Summary: When the red string of fate appears around your ankle, you have twelve days to find your fated partner or die. That’s how the spell works - that’s how fate has always run Her business. There is one, very inconvenient witch who keeps getting in your way, though, and you might just kill each other before your mark does.

❀ Word Count: 4,421

❀ Genre: Magical AU, Fate AU, a bit of angst, a bit of crack

❀ Rating: SWF

❀ Warnings: Talk of death!!! Reader thinks that she is going to die this entire fic, so she thinks about dying/makes jokes about dying a lot. At the end of the story, there are moments where she is sad and there are hints of depression because she is dying, but it’s not super intense and heavy. Language, Yoongi, and reader are both very stupid, the communication skills in this friend group are at ZERO.

❀ Published: Tuesday, October 3

❀ A/N: This is my first request filled for Haliween and I am so excited! This was so much fun to write and honestly, I was super inspired by Jade's ability to infuse humor in writing, so this is absolutely an ode to Jade. Inside my Halloween bag for you is… Yoongi, witches, and fate! This actually might be one of my favorite drabbles I’ve written all year if not all the time and I sort of wish this was a full one-shot with angst but I think it works sooo well this way. UNEDITED.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It’s raining the day that the red string of fate scorches your ankle. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, sending you to your knees as you scream. At first, Jimin thinks you’re dying. He drops his mug of tea, rushing over to you as the porcelain shatters, dropping to the ground to pull you up by the shoulders.

You’re prone for a moment, eyes rolled back, voice straining as your entire body tenses, hellfire licking through you.

Then it’s gone. Like it never happened.

The mark leaves you panting in Jimin’s arms, whimpering lightly as you pull the leg of your jeans up with trembling hands to reveal a singular scarlet circle around your ankle. The mark tingles, leaving behind the memory of sudden pain, now cool to the touch.

“Holy shit,” Jimin whispers, staring at the mark. His eyes are wide when he looks down at you, lips trembling. “Twelve days.”

Twelve days. Twelve entire days to untangle you’re new fate and follow it to the witch meant for you, your other half. Twelve days to find them and meet your magical half. To be whole again.

Because in the world of witches, there are some of you born not complete. Some of you have another soul out there, burning with some of your magic. And when that magic is ready to become one, it tries to kill you.

Twelve days to reunite it.

Or, twelve days until you die.

DAY ONE

The day is a waste. Impeding doom does not inspire confidence in the probability of finding the witch who is supposed to be your other half. Hoseok offers a tarot spread, flipping cards and trying to untangle the path that will lead to your savior.

He frowns as he looks at his deck. The images and text on them are nearly faded entirely, a heirloom of his coven passed down through generations of family members. Hoseok knows them by touch, feel, and energy alone. Could read them in the dark, if he wanted to.

Hoseok glances up where you’re curled on the couch in a blanket, doing little spell work to figure out where your mystery half is. “Perhaps you should have Namjoon read tea leaves instead,” he offers. Hoseok shuffles the deck and puts it back in a wooden box. “The cards want you to figure it out yourself. Tea is less judgmental, perhaps.”

DAY TWO

Tea is not less judgmental. You stamp out of the tea shop, feeling stormy, energy crackling like lightning. Namjoon, unable to help, mentioned that perhaps you should seek help from Jungkook, who often sees the future in his drawings. It’s what led him to Jimin, after all.

Someone crashes into you, knocking you off balance. You yell as you go, too lost in thought to catch yourself with magic before you’re topping into the street and a puddle. Cursing, you look up at the stranger who has knocked you into a dirty hole filled with water.

“Are you serious?” you demand, gesturing to your legs as water seeps in. “Watch where you’re going!”

The man in front of you is covered in coffee. He looks up at you dripping in dark liquid, the front of his white shirt ruined and sticking to his chest. If you weren’t so impossibly angry, you might think he was cute. Long, black hair tucked behind his ears, keen feline eyes, a rosy mouth in a natural pout.

But you don’t think it’s cute. Especially when he says, “Me? You’re on the wrong side of the sidewalk!”

“There are no sides to the sidewalk!”

“Of course there is! If you’re walking north you should walk on the inside of the sidewalk, if you’re walking south, you should walk on the outside!”

“That makes no fucking sense!”

“Says the girl still sitting in a puddle instead of getting up and drying herself off!”

You make an angry sound, shoving yourself up from the puddle, sopping wet. “Have the day you deserve,” you snarl at him.

“Have fun with your wet pants.”

DAY THREE

Day three is spent at the library looking up ways to break the red string of fate around your ankle. There are tombs and tombs of ancient texts on the various iterations of the spell through different cultures and religions, but so far you have nothing to show for it.

Huffing and tossing another useless book onto your useless pile, you walk back to the dark stacks of the magical section of the library reserved for members of the covens in the city. It smells musty and dusty in the back, the air dank with the promise of rot. You make a mental note to tell Jisung at the front to please use an air freshening spell.

As you turn the corner of the shelves, someone makes you pull up short. The man from the day before is in front of you, flipping through a book. You blink in surprise. A witch. It shouldn’t surprise you - most of the townsfolk here are magic in one way or another. But it makes less sense that he was so angry about spilling his coffee when he could just whisk his fingers in the air and put it back in the cup.

You’re angry all over again, balling your fists in the aisle. You have half a mind to flick your fingers and through a book from the shelf at him, but the tome in his hands makes you pause. It’s the book you’re looking for.

The man snaps it shut and tucks it under his arm, continuing to look through the shelves.

“Um, where are you taking that?”

He turns with a soft expression, eyes wide. Then he sees you and immediately scowls, nose scrunching. “Oh. You. If you came here for new pants, the Target is across the street.”

“I’m looking for that book.”

“Well, this book is coming with me.”

“What do you need it for, huh?”

His face is impassive as he blinks twice. “For a bonfire, thank you.”

With that, he spins on his heel and walks down the aisle. You step after him, but he snaps and you feel a sharp tug in your stomach, like a pull in another direction. You blink and suddenly find yourself several aisles over, making you scream in anger.

“Did you just teleport me?!”

DAY FOUR

Spent listening to Hey Jude on repeat. And dumplings. So many dumplings that you may not make it to day twelve.

DAY FIVE

What a good day. You’ve made no progress, but you head home with a smile on your face nonetheless. Even though you will surely expire when the red string of fate eats you from the ankle up in seven days, you have at least one good memory before your untimely demise.

Autumn hangs cooly in the air. Your scarf is wrapped snuggly around your neck as you skip home, fresh on the memory of the Puddle Pusher’s face when you bought the last of the black flame candles at Shadow’s earlier that day.

Give me at least one, he’d said to you. You don’t need five.

Well, what if I mess up? You’d asked.

Then you’re a shitty witch.

Well, that had offended you, so you bought the white flame candles too, just in case. Bags full of candles for your little ritual, you skip home to try another trick in breaking the scarlet mark around your ankle. You’re not hopeful but you are happy to rub the salt in with the Puddle Pusher before your sweet farewell to the world.

Even if he did look very cute today.

DAY SIX

Morale is low. The ritual from the night before utterly failed and set off your sprinkler system in your apartment. As you spend the morning blasting hot gusts of wind from your hands and levitating several items throughout the home to air dry, you wonder what it will be like at the end.

The red string of fate is such a rare thing. When you were little, you may have thought it was romantic. Knowing there was someone out there for you that was your twin flame, your other half. A person connects to you by the cosmic power of the universe. Whose spellwork with your own could make you unstoppable.

Now you think it’s stupid. You don’t need anyone else to make you complete. You’ve learned that over several failed relationships and the lackluster dating life of this town. There’s no reason for you to need to follow this stupid mark to find the one person you can no longer live without.

Love is not worth dying for. If it is even love. You cannot imagine that the magic that flows through the world unseen but felt is so all-seeing and powerful that it knows who you should be with. That it can tell you what to do.

Day six sucks. And you spend it crying. Alone and forgotten, without your other half.

DAY SEVEN

Jungkook sifts through his drawings, chewing his lip. The hum of tattoo guns buzzes like a hive of angry bees behind you. You ignore the awful music blaring through the speakers and the man screaming behind the piercing curtain getting his nipples pierced.

“Don’t you have something for that?” you ask, jerking your thumb at the sniveling. “The man sounds like you’re castrating him.”

“Oh, that? Some people like the pain. However, it is Jin so he is actually hating every second of it.” You make a face but Jungkook doesn’t notice, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dude. I don’t see or feel anything in any of these recent drawings of mine. I wish I could be of better assistance. There’s this guy who might be able to help, though. Taehyung?”

“Tae-who?”

“Here.” Jungkook scribbles an address in truly illegible handwriting. “Visit him on the full moon in..” He looks at his phone and makes a face with yikes written all over it. “Five days.”

“Jungkook, in five days I will be hours away from-” You make a choking sound and roll your eyes back into your head. When you look back at Jungkook, he’s not amused. “Death. Dead. Está muerto.”

“Yeah, I got that. Not funny.” He shoves the paper in your hand. “Look, he’s a really powerful seer. Just go.”

“Think he can tell me what to wear as I croak?”

Jungkook is still not amused by your jokes. He looks around you as the shop door chimes, lifting a hand. “Hey, Yoongi. Be with you in a second.” He looks back at you. “Have you considered asking around for anyone who has had one show up recently? It might help, you know?”

“No thanks. Don’t need any weirdos trying to get into my skivvies by lying about it. Thanks, though. I’ll look into this.” You lift the paper.

Turning around to leave, you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing near the front entrance of the door. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair tucked under a beanie. He looks soft, especially when his attention isn’t on you and glowering.

For a moment, you’re not mad at him and you don’t hate him on principle. You just admire the way his nose is a little bit red from the cold outside, and his general sense of wonder is… innocent. Gentle. Kind.

When he turns to look at you, as though he feels your staring, his face morphs from cherubic to devilish, curling his lip up at you. Your momentary lapse of judgment vanishes. “Here to get a tattoo of Number One Puddle Pusher?”

“I didn’t push you.”

“Who's to say you didn’t? Do you have CCTV evidence?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I should be checking CCTV to see if you’re stalking me.”

“Me? Stalking you? I got here first.”

“Do you have CCTV evidence?” he mocks, making a face.

With a huff, you blow by him, turning to Jungkook who looks between the two of you with wide eyes and a dubious expression. “Make his tattoo ugly.”

DAY EIGHT

Yoongi as it turns out is new in town. Instead of spending day eight doing like Jungkook suggested and putting out an APB on Facebook Marketplaces and Craigs List, you spend it looking up your mysterious mortal enemy only to find that… he’s entirely normal.

Most of the covens in town have a long history of ancestry connected to the town’s creation. Yoongi seems to have no such thing, having only moved there a year ago. You’ve never come across him, though it seems you have plenty of friends in common.

From his social media, you can tell only two things about him: he likes cats and takes the worst dad pictures. By worst, you mean silly little photographs of things you can only see a father taking. Somehow the angle is always just wrong or the captions are so simple that you find yourself smiling.

And then you remember whose photos you’re looking at and you fix your face with a scowl.

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you curse Yoongi. The Puddle Pusher.

DAY NINE

Spent crying.

DAY TEN

Spent crying even harder. And spent looking at Yoongi’s cat on social media, only to accidentally double tap and scream as you unlike the photo, and throw your phone across the apartment in terror.

You cry more after. And add buy a new phone on your to-do list.

DAY ELEVEN

You’re going to die. It’s inevitable. You spend the evening watching the stars with Jimin. You let Jungkook tattoo a smiley face on your foot. You drink lots of hard cider, and you fall asleep in a bed that feels too empty and the knowledge that you’ll no longer have to worry about filling it.

DAY TWELVE

Taehyung lives in the middle of Fuck All Nowhere. While you might not find that exactly on the map, it is only somewhat easy to find his creepy, draconic estate outside of town. Getting out of your car, you look up at the spiring mansion, sure that you’re going to see bats flying out of the top like an episode of Scooby Doo.

Alas, there are no bats there to greet you in your final few hours. "Where are the bats, dude?" you ask, walking up the lawn.

The house is something out of a creepy cartoon. Old, wooden stairs creek under your feet as you climb them. The front porch has a severe lean, making you take a precarious step toward the massive front door.

A knocker in the shape of a snarling gargoyle greets you. Tentatively, you reach your hand toward it. Just before your fingers brush the knocker, the door swings inward, creaking and shuttering as it does. You snatch your hand back and take a step away from it, heart racing.

No one is in the entryway. You stick your head inside, looking at the maximalist disaster that is the interior. There are gauche tapestries all over the walls and exotic, loud wallpaper. Statues, busts, and other carvings cover every surface, and the faint smell of cardamom hangs in the air.

“Hello?” you call. Your voice seems to echo in the house.

You hear footsteps. Your heart rate picks up, hoping to see the infamous Taehyung you’ve come for. Except you don’t, feeling confusion first followed by irritation. Of course Yoongi is standing in this strange home that’s full of popping energy and static.

“What are you doing here?” you demand.

Yoongi frowns. “You’re not Taehyung, right?”

“No! Do I look like him?”

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Well. I’m not.”

Both of you have a silent standoff, staring at the other. Yoongi looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a little greasy. You feel a momentary pang of sympathy for him, feeling the same sort of restlessness and weariness tugging at your edges.

“What are you here for, then?” you ask if only to fill the silence stretching between you. “And why are you inside?”

“It’s cold outside. And the house felt like it wanted me to wait inside.”

“Okay. Well.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m here because I’m… looking for something.”

“Something that requires black flame candles?”

“No.” He looks you up and down. “What are you here for.”

“Trying to break something.”

He hums.

Eventually, you both sit down in the sitting room. Neither of you say anything to the other, sitting in… almost comfortable silence. You sit and stare at the clock on the wall, watching your time slip away.

Your knee starts pouncing. You take out your phone, spamming Jungkook. Trying to get him to call Taehyung, perhaps. He doesn’t answer, your nerves unsettling your stomach. Eating away at you.

An hour slips by. Then another.

Sweat starts to collect on the back of your neck. Each moment the minute hand tick tick ticks, you lose another minute. Another five. Another ten.

You don’t feel sick or deteriorating, but you know that as it reaches ten at night, you only have two hours left. A collection of 120 minutes for the rest of your life. Barely enough to drive back into town and say goodbye to your friends. To anyone who cares.

Overwhelmed with the impending sense of doom, you suddenly stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Inside feels insufferable, so full of tension. You need to breathe, to maybe look at the moon for a little. To… feel the wind for the last moment, now that it’s here.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside. I - um. I don’t think he’s coming and I… want to be outside.”

Yoongi nods. “Mind if I join you?”

The question is gentle. Soft. Like that time you saw him in Jungkook’s shop, face so gentle and kind, round and soft with wonder and something like hope. It urges you to nod, reserved to not spend the next two hours hating this man who has made the last twelve days of your life annoying.

Instead, you’ll spend it with this man who doesn’t know you, but who has colored the pages of your life for the last two weeks.

It’s strange. Before that day outside of Namjoon’s shop, you didn’t know who this person was. Now, you know a little bit. Not a lot, but enough.

There’s a hill behind Taehyung’s house that you walk out to. You both sit on it quietly, looking out at the world. This far out in the country, the stars blanket the sky in a thrilling map of constellations and sparkling lights. It’s beautiful. Nice.

A general melancholy seems to hang around Yoongi. You don’t know what it is he is looking for, but you sort of hope he finds it in the way that you’ve been unable to. If you have to lose tonight, you think that someone ought to win.

“What was your favorite moment of your life?” Yoongi asks out of nowhere. You glance at him to see him staring out at the sky, eyes unseeing. His fingers pull at the grass by his shoe, uprooting them absently. “Or something that you just remember being a really good memory?”

You pull your knees to your chest and set your chin atop them, thinking. You’ve had so much time to think this week about your favorite moments or the best parts of your life before it’s gone, and yet, you hadn’t thought too much about it.

“Maybe…” you grin, eyes unfocusing. “The first time I ever listened to Hey Jude. I had never listened to the Beatles and Jimin had it on vinyl and it was one of the last days of summer when we were younger and he put it on… we danced to it and had the coldest lemonade and those red white and blue popsicles. It was right after a breakup and… it was the first time I felt unfettered, reckless joy.”

You can remember the sweetness of the lemonade, the sticky fingers from the popsicle. The sound of the record, the way it hissed into silence at the end of the track, just the crackling vinyl chasing you out of the end of summer.

Turning to look at Yoongi, you ask, “What about you?”

“The first time I heard a piano. I was on vacation with my parents but I got lost at the hotel and I found this piano in the lobby. This guy was playing it so I just sat down next to him and listened. It was… I wasn’t afraid anymore, and I just waited there until the front desk told my parents they found me.”

You grin, feeling a sweet curl of joy spreading through you. “Do you play now?”

“Mhmm. I wish I had played more in the last few weeks. I was … busy.”

“Hmm. I wish I had done a lot of things recently. Instead, I fixated on something unchangeable.”

Silence falls between you. You check your phone for the time. You realize that there are only fifteen minutes left, your heart clenching painfully. You place the phone face down in the grass, sucking in a deep, shaking breath.

“You should go,” you murmur gently. He looks up at you, brows raised. “I uh - need to do something that I think should be done alone.”

He nods. “Me too.” Gets up slowly, dusting off his pants. Yoongi starts to turn away and hesitates, looking down at you. You look up and think that Yoongi might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Soft face against the cosmos, dark eyes that are swirling and unreadable. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He lifts a shoulder. “For being a surprise in my life, I suppose. A change of pace.”

“You too.”

With a little wave of his hand, Yoongi walks down the hill back toward the house. You watch him go until he vanishes around the front and you are left alone, the sound of the crickets around you.

Turning back to the empty hills, you exhale. In a way, you’re okay. You think that maybe Yoongi is right - he was an unexpected and at times vexing surprise in your life, but it was fun. A least a little.

Gently, you lay back in the grass. You don’t know if it’s going to hurt when you go, but you want to be lying down just in case. Your hands tremble in the grass and you feel your throat constrict with the urge to cry. Not because you’re alone, not because you’re afraid, but because you think maybe… you should have just enjoyed life a little more than trying to defeat it the last two weeks.

A lifetime of forcing things into submission and for once, you couldn’t do it.

The minutes tick by. You try to calm your breathing. There’s no escaping the red string of fate now. Without your other half, you will cease to exist. There is no more road for you.

You think of the sweet taste of lemonade. The chorus of Hey Jude. The breeze coming in through the open door and the scent of the honeysuckle climbing the awning. You smile, feeling a tear slide down your face.

Shutting your eyes, you breathe in deep. You are ready.

DAY THIRTEEN

You frown. You keep breathing. You take in another deep breath, thinking that maybe you just… timed it wrong. Settling in, you keep yourself calm, fingers drumming on the floor. Any second now you’re going to die. The life force will flee your body. You will perish. Ashes and dust and all of that.

It doesn’t come. You crack an eye open, looking at the starry sky. The stars are still hanging and the moon is still shining. Suddenly you wonder if you’ve already died and this is the afterlife. Would you even know if you were dead?

Sitting up, you grab your phone and look at it. If there are phones in the afterlife, yours shows that it’s past midnight.

“Huh?” you whisper, tapping the screen. It looks real. Feels real. “Why am I not dead?”

Footsteps behind you make you look over your shoulder. Yoongi is storming up the hill, a look on his face like wonder and fury or something weirdly in between.

“What were you doing at Namjoon’s shop that day we ran into one another?”

“What?”

“The shop!” he yells, throwing his hands up, panting as he crests the hill. “What were you doing there?”

“Getting… a fortune read. Sort of.”

“And the library?”

“Researching how to break spells.”

“And Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice trembles. You don’t follow, but you shrug a shoulder. “Same thing as when I went to Namjoon’s. Trying to use the future to help me find something.”

Yoongi crouches down and reaches for your ankle. You pull it back, yelling, “Hey, hands off, weirdo! I’m not into foot stuff!”

He grabs your jeans and pulls the hem up, despite your kicking. When he reveals the red mark around your ankle, he abruptly sits down and stares at you. You yank your foot from his grip, ripping your jeans back down and glaring. “What gives? Yeah, I have a red string of fate, whatever.”

Mutely, Yoongi sticks his foot toward you. He has on dirty Converse with gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and jeans on. “I’m more of a Hubba Bubba myself,” you note, eyeing his foot. “But thanks?”

“My ankle.”

You sit up straight, heart racing. Yoongi had been going to Namjoon that day. And then at the library. Even visiting Jungkook. And buying items for… breaking a spell at the magic shop. Now, he’s here, for a reason unbeknownst to you.

And you’re not dead.

You’re not dead.

Slowly, you reach over Yoongi’s foot. Your fingers are trembling as you grab the soft material of his jeans, fingers weak. Steeling yourself, you pull gently to reveal Yoongi’s ankle. You expect to see creamy, smooth skin, unmarked and well… ordinary.

Instead, you see a single red ring scarring his skin. A perfect red string of fate marking his skin forever, telling him that he belongs to someone. That someone equally belongs to him. That there is someone out there in the world just as stubborn to accept fate, just as cranky when inconvenienced, and who loves music just as much as you do.

You’re not dead, and Yoongi is looking at you with a smile that holds the world.

You’re not dead, and you share loud, joyful laughter with your red string of fate partner for the first time.

DAY 20

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, leaning back and self-satisfied. “I saw them finding each other at my house so I just left. Let fate do its thing, ya know?”

You roll your eyes. “Your house is fucking creepy but not in a cool way.”

Yoongi laces his fingers with yours. “Yeah man, where are the damn bats?”

#yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi drabble #haliween

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keysmashingfantasies · 1 year

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Hi hi. I’m not sure if you do request like this and this isn’t detailed or anything so I get if you don’t want to but like could I request something smut chishiya? Maybe him and reader are friends and get into an argument about their feelings for each other and they end up having really romantic love making and confess to each other or something. Probably makes like zero sense sorry.

i do requests like this, yes! just bear with me because i am not the most skilled smut writer but i am absolutely open to writing it, ask away! and it makes perfect sense, don't worry! also, i assumed you wanted fem!bodied reader but since you didn't specify, i didn't. so hopefully i think everyone can read. this is so fucking long i'm sorry. was it good? i don't think so, no. is it the best i could do? absolutely. enjoy!

ok, content warning/this fic contains: sexy times, non descriptive penetrative sex as a way to keep this as inclusive as possible, no body descriptions for reader, unprotected sex (not good! don't do this!), chishiya being vulnerable (or, as the kids call it, a bit subby), a smidge of angst at the beginning, probably kind of shitty aftercare bc i don't know how and i'm going off of vibes. absolutely not proofread so most likely grammar mistakes.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST OR I'LL CALL YOUR MOM!!!

"What do you mean? I'm being careless by talking to people?", you exclaimed. Chishiya was being more and more unreasonable lately. You knew he thought you were gullible and naive, and you suspected that's why he decided to get closer to you; who'd suspect you, after all? You weren't all that wide eyed ingenue, you just believed that people could still be good in this world. Kuina shared the same belief, and he wasn't nagging on her like he did with you.

"Of course you can! But not so much to make yourself vulnerable to threats! What are you doing, cozying up to someone you don't even know during a game?", his tone raised the slightest bit, what was already a lot for Chishiya. He may have been acting unreasonably but he knew what he was saying had reason. Chishiya had feelings for you, and once he got to know you the desire to protect you only grew. He knew that you were selfless to the point of bordering stupidity, and would sacrifice yourself for someone. What made Chishiya's heart clench even more is that you'd sacrifice for him given the chance. Without even thinking. The flame of his anger was fanned at the thought that someone may have used your good will to trick you into dying in their place if he wasn't around.

"I wasn't cozying up! I was talking to a teammate! On a game of clubs! You know, one of those we depend on other people to live?", you said, exasperated. You took a calming breath and sighed. "You know what, think what you want of me. I'm tired, I don't want to fight", you started to pace around, something you often did to release anxious energy after a game.

"We're not fighting. We're having a conversation", Chishiya deadpanned, raising his eyebrows when you turned to look at him.

"A conversation of you laying it thick the implication that I'm some dumb thing with stars in my eyes? That I can let anyone trick me into sacrifice?", you said, and his eyes darted across the room, avoiding your eyes. Red-handed. "Chishiya, listen to me", you sat besides him, taking his hand in yours. "I may still be a bit too hopeful of people sometimes. Everyone copes in their own way, right?", you earned yourself a dry chuckle. "But I am hopeful because of what I've seen. Yeah, there's death and sadness and betrayal but there's good things. Friendship and love. For every bad person there's a few good ones, I truly believe that. And don't worry about me. You and Kuina drilled in my brain to be street smart", you smiled. Now it was your turn to avoid his eyes. "The only person in this entire world that can trick me is you, Chishiya. I trust you wholeheartedly", you whispered, clenching his hand in yours tight but still refusing to turn your warm face towards his. He was your lifeline but made you mortified at the same time.

"I don't think you're dumb. I'm sorry if I came across that way. I wouldn't have made an ally out of you if I didn't trust your abilities. And... I wouldn't made a friend out of you if I thought you're stupid. I just didn't want to lose you, that's all", he said. "I trust you too. Wholeheartedly", he said, giving you one of his Monalisa smiles. Sutil enough he may not even be smiling at all.

"Not in the way I trust you. Not by far", you said, finally managing to gather yourself enough to look at him. You may die at any point, Chishiya was kind enough to remind you. So what if he didn't love you back? You had the right to say it and he had the right to know. Even if he scolded you for wearing your heart on your sleeve. Even if he betrayed you.

"Why do you say that?", he asked, frowning. Did you know believe him? After all this time, he thought he was opening up to you. That you saw something more inside of him, the optimism, the sliver of hope he kept hidden for emergencies and you.

"Because I love you. And I trust you. Blindly", you said after being in silence for a while, and the atmosphere of the room shifted. You could feel the hairs in your body standing in attention, the room felt colder, the air felt heavy and sticky when you breathed in and you thought that if you took a deep breath like you've been dying to, you'd choke. You could hear a pin drop. And Chishiya was still as a statue.

It happened in a blink of an eye. Chishiya was tense, his lips pressed against yours and shoulders almost up to his ears, like someone had pushed him into you and he was still trying to process it. You had your eyes wide open, looking around the room, hands up like someone was pointing a gun at you, not knowing where to place them. For a few seconds it was like this, until something clicked. Chishiya kissed you. Chishiya was kissing you. You parted for a second before looking into each other's eyes, bewildered like you had been possessed. And then you kissed him.

This was much more like an actual kiss. It was soft, slow, steady. You cupped his face between your hands and got up on your knees to get closer to him, his hands snaking their way up to your waist. Soon enough, you had to breathe, breaking apart just enough for your mouths to disconnect but staying close. Neither of you thought you could let each other go after what you knew it was about to transpire.

"Chishiya... I...", you were breathless, you brain had turned to mush and you couldn't speak, and Chishiya took the opportunity to kiss you yet again.

You could've been kissing for ages. The games might've been over, everyone dead, the land completely taken over by vegetation at this point. But you were still kissing Chishiya, slow and deep, melting and molding into his arms, straddling his lap. Not letting your hands leave him not for a second, as he did with you. Your hands were on his face, his on your waist. His hands moved up your back, yours into his hair. Your hands on his chest, his in yours.

The kisses started growing hot and sloppy. You needed each other bad. So when Chishiya pulled apart to catch his breath and you couldn't stay away from him, you started to kiss down his neck, hands pulling off his hoodie off like it was offending you, desperately mouthing at the parts of his collarbones and chest not covered by his shirt. And the sounds were driving you insane. The little sighs and moans made you want to beg him to fuck you already but you decided to contain yourself. You wanted him to feel appreciated. Loved.

"Ah... That's good", he whispered, and when you parted from his neck to see his head thrown back, his mouth slightly opened, eyes half lidded like he was intoxicated, you couldn't help but to slip your tongue into his mouth yet again, shifting your hips against his slightly, making you both moan in each other's mouths. "Can I undress you?", he asked between pecks on your lips, and you nodded so hard you made yourself dizzy. "No, no. I need to hear you say it", he said, stopping to look at you looking at him. How you were still bashful at a situation like this he couldn't figure out for the life of him, but he gave you a low chuckle when you hid your face in his neck, only to shiver after feeling your teeth pressed against his pulse point. If the room wasn't so quiet he wouldn't be able to hear the small "Please, Chishiya, undress me" that followed.

His hands were fast as they were precise and in no time you were fully naked in his lap, kissing him like your life depended on it. Your hands made your way down his chest, getting to the hem and making their way up again, now under the fabric, lifting it up and off of his torso, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head.

You proceeded to kiss every newly discovered inch of his warm skin. From his fingertips, up his arms, his shoulders, nipping and sucking and licking down his chest, over his sensitive nipples, down his stomach and the soft trail of hair that dissapeared under the waistband of his pants.

"Y/N...", he sighed, hand coming up under your chin to pull you off of obsessively mouthing him over his pants. "Y/N...", he sighed yet again when you came up, making eye contact with him and giving him a peck on the lips.

"Can I finish undressing you, Chishiya? Please?", you were desperate, and Chishiya hissed at the thought of what was to come. How could he hold back when you were so sweet, so beautiful, so eager, looking at him like he painted the sky midnight blue and hung the moon and stars up there?

"Yes. Yes, please", he breathed. You touched your forehead to his, fiddling with the ties of his loose pants. Meanwhile, he pressed two of his fingers to your lips, slowly but surely shoving them inside your warm and wet mouth. As you sucked them, you started to pull his pants and underwear down his slim hips, and he lifted his hips to aid you.

Soon enough, you were both naked, you straddling his thighs. There was nothing in between you anymore. He took his fingers off of your mouth as you looked down to take him in, all the parts hidden that you'd been fantasizing about. His chest with a bit of hair, now covered in red splotches from your sucking, his stomach and happy trail covered in love bites, his pale hairy legs, his cock that now slapped against his stomach, not too long but just enough to make your mouth water, with a leaking pink tip, girthy and veiny, nestled in his pubes, his balls hanging low, filled with cum.

"Chishiya, you're so beautiful", you moaned in pure agony. His body, the way he was looking up at you so reverently; he looked like an angel. He wasted no time in using his fingers lubed by your spit to start prepping you, carefully but firmly shoving them inside of you, finger fucking you in efforts to find that sweet spot inside of you.

"You're beautiful too. Ah, that's it, take my fingers inside you", he moaned as you started to move your hips in tandem with his hand. You slowly started to play with his balls, earning yourself a low groan.

"Chishiya. Chishiya", you moaned, convulsing when he managed to graze what he was looking for. "I'm going to- ah! Kiss me, please", he placed his hand in the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his tongue messily meeting yours while you mewled into his mouth and you shivered from your orgasm.

You only parted after you finished riding out your orgasm, after your lungs were burning, and you felt weak and feverish. You looked into his eyes for a little while and Chishiya opened his mouth to speak, only to come up with nothing but shallow gasps and a smile. His heart jumped when you smiled back.

"Chishiya, make love to me, please", he'd think you were in pain if it wasn't your smile. The way you were looking at him.

"Of course", he said, laying you down on the floor on your back, parting your knees, taking a moment to just look at you, making you feel shy. "You're so gorgeous. Are you ready for me?", he asked.

"Yes!", you moaned. You couldn't believe this was happening. Not in the Borderlands of all places.

Slowly, he started to put it inside of you, and the stretch of him was amazing. You blindly reached for one of his hands that was bracketing your head, him holding the back of it to his lips for a second before continuing.

"Almost there. Are you ok? Fuck. Does it hurt?", he said. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you into the floor but he wanted to be gentle with you. Wanted to see you fall apart slowly for him.

"Ah... You're amazing. It feels amazing", you sighed, dreamily; you never felt so full in your entire life, it was an all encompassing feeling, you couldn't do anything but to lay there and feel him inside you. Your eyes meeting his with another dazzling smile, and he almost came on the spot.

"Ah, ah!", he bottomed out inside of you and he couldn't believe how warm and wet you were. "So good...", he started to grind his hips into yours, not really pulling out. He couldn't pull away from you right now, not when you felt so good.

The both of you were in a frenzy, hips grinding into each other desperately, the both of you sweaty and moaning. One of you hands was tightly clasped in one of Chishiya's, the other with their nails deep into the skin of his shoulder, the other hand of Chishiya was gripping your tigh, his arm wrapped around it. Your mouth was open in ecstacy, moaning like an animal in heat. Chishiya didn't know where to place his mouth. Dragging across yours, on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, down your chest.

"Chishiya, Chishiya, Chishiya", you wanted to let him know you were about to cum, but your mind was numb and the only thing you could say was his name over and over.

"Are you close?", he breathed out and you nodded feverishly. "Me too. Will you cum with me?", he moaned and it was the most beautiful sound you heard in your life. You didn't stand a chance, clenching around him with a desperate cry of his name while he pressed his hips to yours, pumping you full of his cum.

It felt like you both were locked together, standing still against each other like a statue for ages. You didn't know how long until your soul returned to your body but when it did, you knew yours and his were intertwined. "Hi", you breathed, and he smiled. Not a quirk of his lips, a full fledged smile, teeth and all. "I should clean you up", he said, using his shirt to clean the cum seeping out of you, being mindful of how sensitive you were. "Hurts?", he asked. "No, I'm fine", you said. After dressing you and himself, discarding the shirt and zipping his hoodie with nothing underneath, he held you to his chest.

"I believe there's good in this world too", he said.

"Hm?", you asked, sleepy, your cheek pressed against his chest, with his arms around you.

"I believe there's good in the world too. Maybe less than you but I do. Believe that there's good out there. I'll go back with you, if we get lost I'll find you. And then I'll make love to you again, and hold you close, to remember that there's good in the real world too", he said. "I love you too", he said, squeezing you to him.

#chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x male reader #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader

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