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shivasdarknight · 9 months

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Hi, sorry for this but you are a writer, so umm.. I was hoping you could give me some tips/advice on how to write?

tbh the way I got into writing is a bit insane, but I do have some advice that can help. gonna put it under a cut just because it got kinda long

honest to god, one of the best pieces of advice is something you're already doing because reading can genuinely help you with becoming a better writer. stepping outside of your usual genres or authors can help expand your viewpoint and introduce you to more narrative styles so you can play around and see what works for you. eg. if you mostly read first person, give second person a shot. or if you're an omniscient third person, try limited third person. or even retrospective first person, because i often see people complain about first person pov when it's married with a present tense story. if you have a first person narrator talking about events in the past as if talking to you, or a journal it often takes an entirely different angle and it's something I've played with in Homestuck fics because that fandom tends to be more open to narrative experimentation. Writing is honestly a lot of looking at stuff you like (much like art) and smooshing it all together. Personally, I've gotten a lot of my writing style from stuff like The Locked Tomb, admittedly Lovecraft was foundational (but this is a great example of why to always remain critical considering his bullshit), so was Homestuck and Rick Riordan's stuff. I'm never trying to copy them wholesale, but I am looking at aspects I like - such as Riordan's humor intertwining with the narrative and narration, or the deeply unreliable narrators that Muir writes, or even how Homestuck balances purple prose with gut wrenching conciseness when it counts. A lot of modern day fast food fiction takes out a lot of the stuff that actually builds a story - pacing, playing with narration and technical writing - so you need to be conscious of what you're looking for in things. Often more established authors get to do weirder stuff than new authors, but don't discredit new ones because that would be leaving out folks like Xiran Jay Zhao and their phenomenal prose.

Another thing that helps greatly is reading writing critique. Video essays on books or even more critical thought pieces on writing, tropes, etc. can help you learn more about why something works. Lots of different channels on YouTube dedicated to dissecting media, absolutely recommend stuff like Hello Future Me, Overly Sarcastic Productions (real world ties + mythology, great basis to build things on), Zoe Bee (writer + commentary), Nerdwriter1 (media analysis + commentary), Just Write, and Tale Foundry. For adjacent suggestions that can help build up alternate perspectives that aren't directly about writing but are about critical thinking with stories (which is frankly an important skill to have), I definitely recommend Princess Weekes, Accented Cinema, Now You See It, Dominic Noble, The Storyteller, and Pop Culture Detective. A lot of this is discussing film (save Dominic Noble, who also talks about books a Lot), but the core essence of storytelling is helpful regardless of what angle it comes in - be it video game, movie, tv, or book reviews and analyses.

Actual writing. Varies on the person on if they do outlines or not and how, but I still recommend trying to do an outline when you're first starting out. One habit to immediately knock yourself out of is writing things chronologically. If you're working on a big piece and have more energy to write something in the middle? Put that in a new doc and leave a placeholder for where you're at. Legitimately, getting words on the paper is more important than those words being good. Because you can always come back and edit things to make sense.

Always edit what you write. I hate the "no beta we die like real men" attitude because people will dunk on editing but then praise stories for having "firm and satisfying" connections which can only really be built through editing. Your first draft is your rough idea. Your second one is when you read through and have it make sense. Three is making that make sense, and maybe 4 is more just grammar and spelling errors. Edit as many times necessary to make sure you like it.

Always work in broad strokes, then move in finer like with anything. Do a general idea for a story, then your main story beats, then how you connect them together, and then the nitty gritty of each. Keep lots of notes - do not rely on your head solely for everything - and just also be willing to let things go if they change.

What I tend to do when I write is I want a good flow. I often get that from reading my writing out loud to hear how it sounds, but I'm looking for a good beat to read along. Because even if the sentence is grammatically correct and structurally sound, it may not be very interesting to read. Like you could say someone feigned a polite expression to not let the other person know that they didn't feel comfortable with a topic, or you could go the angle I went with recently of "she painted herself an interested expression to wear as dread began to gnaw at her gut." Sometimes the more colorful or out there the language is, the better it sounds when you read it. Like instead of saying "that's just how things go for them" you could say, "but Fate had a funny way of making her disdain known for (X character)". And this is where reading other peoples' work comes in real handy because you can get a lot of examples of how people write things.

I also try and reflect themes of the story into the writing itself, like this section of a draft:

Still nothing. Seemed he wasn’t going to bother with a glass, instead just ripping the top off of some bottle of gin and tipping it back with little regard for himself. Still that chronometer ticked on; still that taught tension like another arrow had been drawn. A million and more things flooded Ysayle’s mind, itching to loose them at Estinien, yet found herself stuck in indecision as she stared daggers into him - ever her opposite as he just seemed despondent. The gin bottle hit the extended shelf loudly; one hand a fist around the bottle, the other balled up on the surface - knuckles as white as bone. Still, Estinien said naught. Still, the chronometer ticked on. Still, Ysayle’s heart roared in her ears - poisonous words damming up her throat.

The theme of this story is avoiding the mistakes of the past. How things often can wind up cyclical, and the goal is to break from those cycles and repeats. So naturally, several points of the narration itself repeat itself. This isn't standard writing style, but it gets that point across by repeating "Still" as the scene crawls on. I also use a lot of alliteration in my writing because I personally find it fun? So "a maddening matter made most malign", for example.

It also helps to change up how you write or what descriptors you use based on the character whose head you're in, even if it's third person. Third person can have a voice and I often use it to speak aloud a character's thoughts instead of relying on italicized dialogue-thoughts. It makes the dialogue-thoughts appearing hit more when they do instead of just having to be subjected to internal ramblings constantly. Like in this fic I just published:

“...Can we talk about it on the morn?” “What for?” You don’t know what it is you ask of me. “Tired,” Estinien said with a shrug. “We’ve morning patrol, remember?”

Compared to this fic:

“Yes, confusingly.” Her tone was flat as she leaned once again on Surkukteni’s shoulder, thankfully on the uninjured side. “I fear I may have been wrong, though I truly doubt it. To deny me twice, then throw a fit? I wonder — why didn’t you go through with it?” Not even Surkukteni had that answer. For the umpteenth time during that conversation, she refused to look at Her Darkness. That desire — twisted and poisoned as it was — was one that still surfaced from time to time, yet like clockwork made her ill and was banished from her thoughts. Why was that? She felt scorned back then, wishing the universe would correct this error in sparing him but taking Ysayle — but was she not the one who helped save him? Who helped tear those eyes from his armor? She easily could — and had previously — bluffed that it was to destroy the eyes and be rid of the threat, but given her hesitancy now? Why?

All of Surkukteni's thoughts are condensed into the narration so that I can separate out her thought dialogue from idle musings since she - specifically - has a connection with something that can talk telepathically. This thing comments on the literal narration of the story, so when she's directly addressing this thing it's thought-dialogue. But her actual thoughts become narration to avoid spending too much time with that, as I find it's better used sparingly.

Motivation for writing is probably the hardest thing, and best I can advise is to get really into critiquing the stuff you like because you wind up finding a lot of material in fix-it stuff, or just wanting to see more of stuff like you. It's part of what drives my xiv stuff due to how they treat female characters, and I really just wanna see more sapphic bi4bi. So considering it's something I've been stuck in for a very long time now and really like the ambient lore and wish it would do better, it's fueling my desire to write. And from there, there are so many other angles to take - like building ocs, building lore. Finding a sandbox is genuinely one of the best ways to do it. Again, like. You'd be surprised at how much is there because of spite. LOTR has Eowyn because Tolkien didn't like that the "can be killed by no man" thing in Macbeth was resolved with a character born by c-section, so he instead wrote Eowyn, the woman who killed the Witch-King of Angmar. C.S. Lewis didn't like the fact that Tolkien believed that modern technology - or slightly less modern technology - didn't believe in fantasy and he explicitly cited lampposts. And this is why there's just a random light post in the middle of nowhere in the Narnia books.

Critique is good and healthy. I'm critical with the stuff I like and my own things so I can work on them and myself. It's fine to like something that you don't wholly agree with, especially if you're using it to inform how you build on it or build your own things. Like I dunno, I looked at Dante from Devil May Cry and went "what if he was trans" and now I've got Rhombi, a character who has stepped really far away from the OG Dante mould, but you can still see hints of it as I used what I wanted to see out of DMC to build this bisexual disaster of a guy. I was disappointed by Elsword not really committing to some of their character concepts, so I kinda just took Eve (and admittedly Add) and made them into Celes and Neilos and took them to their logical conclusions. All three of them were originally fantrolls at some point, so most of the heavy lifting was done when I was back in Homestuck and all I had to do was scrub the barcodes off of them to build them up in an original verse.

Chemistry is also crucial. If characters aren't vibing, move on. Do not force it. Good chemistry can save a bad story (eg. FFXV) and bad chemistry can ruin a good story. Often it's the characters that drive a story so you need to do a lot of plotting and planning. Most writing is honestly just planning before putting the words down.

And I'm very much so rambling by now but my main points are these (+ others I'm realizing while typing):

Plot a Lot and keep lots of notes, and also organize those notes. The contents don't have to be pretty, but you'll thank yourself in advance if you at least sort them by core idea

Getting words down is more important than getting them down correctly. You can always come back and edit it when you have an idea of how to make it work

You can always place a [insert scene here] tag so you can keep your flow and don't get caught on something.

You also don't have to write chronologically - you wanna write the big confession scene before the intro? do it! just jump right into it!

also don't be afraid to delete stuff or remove it from your draft. save things for later to see if they work elsewhere, because maybe it could be a better spinoff.

dont listen to the advice of "if it really matters, you'll remember it in the morning" that advice was given by neurotypicals who don't have memory issues. make notes of EVERYTHING and then delete the ones that don't work

sometimes writing by hand vs computer can really make a difference in how you think. handwriting is slower and makes you think about stuff, so you may want to keep journals for random snippets or ideas like how doodling is good for building up your habit of drawing

Outlines can help but how you outline is up to you. Try a few styles out and go with what works best.

I cannot stress enough that having something like a marker board to write out your broad stroke story ideas is really really nice

Broad strokes first, then narrow it further and further down. Don't get wrapped up in the nitty gritty details

Chemistry is crucial and can often save a piece you're not fully feeling.

Read your stuff out loud while editing because it can help point out stuff that's not jiving! I find it helps a lot with dialogue

Read a lot. Listen to critique. Be more critical. Also don't limit your idea of stories to just books - expand the media you consume and you'll find really interesting stories that can help with yours

Don't be afraid to use tropes, but also don't super rely on them to where you're just checking off boxes instead of coming up with natural scenarios built on chemistry (eg. having the nerdy goth girl is fine, but the way the trope ends in most media ("fixing" her or just having her be a quirky cynical critic) may not fit with your story and it may be better to see how the story plays out rather than forcing it into something it's not)

Iron Widow is a good example here: the relationship between Zetian and Yizhi is pre-established and comes off as sort of "boy next door" vibes, or at least the very dedicated childhood friend. It quickly becomes apparent that he's as much a co-conspirator in her plans as Shimin is. The guy can be ruthless when given the chance, and that's how Yizhi goes beyond the initial trope and defines himself outside of it. Same with the contextualization of Shimin's seeming "aggression" as the "bad boy" and figuring out where that problem/persona actually stems from, and then the shift of viewing it as less aggression and more retaliation and self preservation.

Find something you do really want to write about, like filling a void in a piece of media you like or doing a take on media that made you mad or disappointed. Jane Eyre is technically fanfiction because the author wanted to see more of Jane and didn't get that. The Divine Comedy is self insert fanfiction of Dante Alighieri as he does worldbuilding with Christian mythos regarding heaven and hell. The Riordan verse is his interest in mythology crossed with a desire to give his son a protag that was like him (specifically ADHD and dyslexic), which then became wanting to let kids see themselves in the different halfbloods in the series.

There's a lot of ways you can get started writing, but the best way is to just write goofy stuff for yourself. Get out stuff that may look bad at first, but you go back and read it and critique it. Just getting yourself into the habit of writing helps a lot, because again: it matters less about the quality, and more getting it on the page and actually having something. You can always fine-tune writing, after all.

My first FFXIV fic isn't actually even published. It was just me writing something rambly about my Warrior of Light when I was starting to figure her character out. It looks nothing like what I'm doing now in part because that fanfiction became a launching point for me to work on others. I've got a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day because these were proto-concepts that became the stuff I wound up publishing. It's fine to have drafts that remain drafts because you can take that as practice, and practice is good. Anything that you write has value because you can use it to let your technical writing skills mature.

Also, don't be afraid to look for help. There are beta services on tumblr (or at least used to be when I was a teenager), plenty of writing guides or places set up to ask questions, plenty of youtubers that give prompts for you to work with. The hardest part is always getting started. But once you get past the awkwardness of the start, everything just falls into place and gets easier the longer you go at it.

You definitely have the desire for it because I've seen your very deep love of literature through the Bi-Library, so you can definitely become a strong writer if you put your mind to it 🫶 Find something to fix or address, and that usually is what gets the ball rolling. Worldbuilding is fun and can lead to something, but you can't have a well built world without a story to explore it.

Characters drive story, story is how you explore themes and the world itself, and the world itself is built on your experiences and interests. Embrace the fact that this is coming from your lens and experiences, because no media is truly void of the author and its other creators. Embrace that fact and use it as an extension of yourself. But really, just write. Literally anything. Just get into the habit of writing, and it'll progress from there!

#original #asks #answered #bisexual-coala #writing tips #long post #this is very rambly but getting into writing isnt the most straightforward thing #a lot of the time it really is just finding something that clicks and not caring about what goes on the page for the first draft #ive been writing fanfiction for...over a decade now? + a lot of rp (also over a decade) and now some p serious original stuff #my fanfiction has also gotten way more involved than it used to be #genuinely i got started writing by keeping a lot of journals and writing every idea i had even if im now embarrassed by it #what matters is just getting into the habit first and then looking at your stuff more critically once the habit is formed #it's hard to build a habit if you're immediately critical #but it's hard to maintain a habit or hobby if you're not - especially if you feel you can build on something #if you do feel it you oughta pursue it and see where it takes you #perfectly fine to not be critical with hobbies but being Constructively critical is how you improve and mature #constructive is key here. because being down on your own writing or being self deprecating is how you lose a hobby #like let's say you don't like your dialogue #go read scripts or books of stuff you like the dialogue from. analyze why they work in contrast to why you feel like yours doesnt work #maybe someone else has a solution for why it feels off #sometimes it's just as simple as taking a step back and looking at it as a whole or even just sleeping on it and coming back w fresh eyes #always approach something you don't like about your work with the attitude of ''how can i improve so i do like it''#like ''i need to be better at fight scenes. ill be sure to include more in my next piece to focus on it and maybe read some action books''#lotta ways to do it!! theres no one right way just a way that fits best for you!!!#just absolutely ignore the ''if it's a good idea you'll remember it in the morning'' stuff.#it doesn't account for people w memory issues and will screw you over #you do not have to wait until you're good at writing to start working on something. you need something to work on to improve #you can always come back to an idea as many times as you need as you grow as a writer #so just write until you build a habit and base style then analyze and move from there #fanfic is honestly really good for practicing style and technique - the characters and world are already ther so why not use em?

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 5 months

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Mc accidently got splashed with a (obsessive) "love potion" and she falls in giddy love with first person she lays her eyes on.

All she wants to do is give them kisses and hugs...and yea she also is clingy and she follows them around even duuring class. She is ready to do anything for her "love" ( like whatever they ask of her) she wants them to be happy . She is convinced that they are dating and it's honestly pointless to try and explain things to her.

How would Azul, Jamil, Malleus, Duece and Floyd hanndle the situation/what's their reaction? ( they were not dating before )

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was doomed by yet another situation he couldn’t see himself out of. He hardly knows how to handle you normally, or rather how to handle his feelings for you, but you’re much harder when you’re like this. Having you clinging to his side and demanding his attention made it impossible for him to concentrate, and feelings be damned he wasn’t going to let his business suffer. Since Jade and Floyd refused to escort you from his office (finding Azul’s flustered face and inability to actually push you away the best comedy bit they’d seen in years) he ordered them to instead find a cure for the nightmarish love potion that ailed you. They do agree but take longer than they need to, wanting Azul to endure his torturous thoughts a bit longer.

Deuce Spade:

You have poor Deuce stressed OUT. He’s too worried about your well-being to hear any of Ace’s teasing, also focused on keeping his lips covered in case of another surprise attack. He wouldn’t mind under normal circumstances but this doesn’t feel genuine (and he had a much more romantic first kiss in mind for the two of you). He boldly confided in his seniors about you in hopes of them helping with a solution, tightly holding your hand to keep you at bay. He’s willing to go to any length to cure you, even if he’d miss the closeness.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd is willing to milk this situation for all that it’s worth. He particularly enjoyed the squeezing contest you had, and how tightly you clung to him even after he clearly won. He would have loved to keep you all to himself, using your condition to get out of working at Mostro Lounge as it would be hard to cook with you attached to him like you were. Jade is surprised with how long Floyd indulged your clingy behavior, even when he seemed fed up, he knew if he really wanted to push you away and lock you up so you’d leave him alone, he would do it.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil would have used you for all you were worth if he didn’t have feelings for you. He’s frustrated that yet another responsibility was thrust upon him, but turning his back on you was not a choice under these circumstances. It makes it hard to go about his day when he has two different people bothering him all day, but you proved to be the bigger challenge (for now). If he could concentrate he’d have an easier time of finding a solution but there was a part of him that longed for you to continue to worship him, curious how much of this might mirror your relationship if you ended up dating.

Malleus Draconia:

You had always been more honest with Malleus than others, but this was certainly new. As much as he enjoyed your emboldened behavior it didn’t take him long to detect something was off, leaving him conflicted. He wouldn’t mind having a close relationship like this with you, maybe some more boundaries discussed for the sake of Sebek’s heart and everyone else's eardrums, but he was disappointed to know this wasn’t you acting on ‘real’ feelings. He’s even more suspicious about how and why you were splashed with such a potion to begin with, growing rather possessive at the concept of someone trying to steal your heart away from him.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Deuce Spade #Floyd Leech #Jamil Viper #Malleus Draconia #azul ashengrotto x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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llycaons · 1 year

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why on earth do I have a fic in my mfl where qs and jc share an orange pre-relationship....I dislike every single aspect of that setup

#fully convinced I was just clicking shit without reading it #jc/qs sucks so bad. that man does not have it in him to be a good partner #at least postres due to all his issues #maybe not postcanon. but why would u inflict jc on qs. that woman has suffered enoigh #also ANY jc/random female character ship feels like trreating women as rewards or solutions to jcs issues #women aren't obligated to be his therapist #and they have every right to dislike him PLEASE #women in general but also wives #in fact jc being unable to deal with his issues on his own withoit making his emotions someone elses problem is #one of the reasons his relationship with wwx fell through so hard #esp in the novel #anyway I also dislike fruit and oranges set off my sensory issues so that fic sounds like a mental torment #ficblogging

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naeviskz · 2 months

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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship

words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread

this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”

“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

#hyunjin angst #skz angst #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz drabbles #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #skz imagines #hyunjin drabbles #hyunjin x female reader #stray kids x reader

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yesimwriting · 3 months

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oh my god yes i'm very much interested in a drabble about my favourite besties kissing as besties do!!!!!!!!

the one that i really can't stop thinking about is the "i trust you more than anyone else" stuff like it's me and you against the world i'm such a sucker for that!! especially since felix is surrounded by people who wanna be close to him all the time and as easy going and open as he seems with anyone, it's of course on an entirely different level with reader

ugh the intimacy of it all makes me melt i love them😭😭

you get the vision!!

also had to start off a little angstier than usual bc the bestie kiss ™️ is only justifiable if both of them are upset enough to be more focused on being close than anything else, y'know

----

The taste lingers. The bitterness infects all it touches, poisoning you from the inside out as you down the drink that some guy pushed into your hand a few minutes ago.

A familiar warning briefly flashes to the front of your mind. Don't take drinks from strangers...especially not drinks that you didn't see them make. One of a hundred safety rules that you usually adhere to.

You've never really under the self destructive urge after drinking thing. Maybe it's just being tired. Maybe it's just this.

You wipe at your eyes with your palm, only remembering the products you had so carefully applied to your skin a few hours ago after the fact.

"Are you--" A familiar voice cuts through the music. You blink once, but it's not enough to force your eyes to adjust, so you try again. After screwing your eyes shut for a second, you can finally make out the person in front of you. Annabel. "You don't look like you're doing too good."

Your irritation has nothing to do with her, and yet seeing her standing there, effortlessly flawless with a slight edge that just fits here, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. But that's not her fault, so as stabiliy and politely as possible, you answer, "I'm...fine."

She regards you for a moment, eyebrows pinching together in uncertainty. "Why don't we find Felix, yeah?"

Why does everyone always assume that Felix is the solution to all of your problems? "I'm okay," you try again, voice a little more certain, "really."

Annabel still doesn't seem too convinced. She turns her head, scanning the crowded room. It doesn't take long for her to find Felix. It never does.

He's sitting on a loveseat that's been pushed towards the edge of the room. A few people are standing around him, a girl is sitting on the chair's arm, her legs swung over his lap.

"And he seems..." You force your face to remain neutral as your eyes finally land on him. "Busy."

Annabel looks back at you, her lips pressing together. Her expression only adds to your unease. "He wouldn't mind. It's you."

You shake your head, the motion adding to your slight nausea. Usually, you wouldn't think twice about sticking by Felix's side. Especially in this kind of setting, but after the words the two of you exchanged earlier, everything feels off its axis.

You're not used to fighting with Felix. It's such a foreign concept that the strange tension that had you walking away from him earlier probably doesn't even constitute an actual argument. But it's enough to make you feel out of place.

Swallowing once, you force yourself to focus on Annabel. "I think I just need some air." Annabel's still regarding you with uncertainty. "I'll be back in a minute, and if I feel sick or anything, I'll go get Felix." She doesn't move until someone calls her name. "Go. Have fun. I'll see you."

Annabel nods once, giving you a polite smile before leaving.

The door is near where Felix is sitting, which means there's no leaving without walking past him. There's enough of a crowd around him that him not noticing is a likely option, so you feel safe crossing the room.

You push your way through the room, eyes trained on the ground to help your balance. It's also a good excuse to not look at Felix as you reach the door.

There are stragglers--a group of girls chatting and giggling in front of the door, some guys doing shots, a girl in the middle of a phone call that looks painful.

You walk around the side of the house until you find an empty section of the sidewalk. The party feels far away here, even though the only thing dividing you is a few cars, a mailbox, and a streetlight. You sit and let yourself pretend that the bit of distance you've managed to create means something.

You could actually leave. Sure, this is a slightly off campus house party, but it's only a few blocks away from the street that'll take you to your dorm. You did walk here, but that was when you were focused, sober, and you had Felix with you.

But that's--you brought cash. You think. Maybe you should call a cab. It's not the worst idea. You drop your attention to the ground, instinctually searching for your purse.

Ugh. Your purse. Felix. You gave it to Felix.

Okay, you're still an independent person. This is probably for the best. It's never a good idea to leave a party without at least telling the person you came with, and this way it won't be a big deal. You'll ask for your purse so that you can call a cab. He probably won't even care.

You just need a minute to get it together. Then you'll be able to go back in, tap Felix on his shoulder, and get your purse. He won't even have to get that girl off his lap.

It is such a double standard. Felix completely forgetting about you is perfectly fine, but you talk to one person that isn't more Felix's friend than yours at one of these things and that must mean you're trying to replace him as a best friend.

Maybe you've been deluding yourself, convincing yourself that your friendship means more than it actually does. The thought makes it hard to breathe right.

"It's cold out."

Your palms press into asphalt as you snap your head to find the source of the sound. Felix. A lump wedges itself in your throat. "I'm fine." He takes a step forward. "I just wanted some air."

You turn your head, forcing yourself to stare ahead. Soft footsteps, the crunching of asphalt echoes, somehow sharper than the music coming from the house. Felix sits.

He's farther than he usually is.

You lift your hands, taking your time brushing your fingers against your palms to get rid of the debris that indented itself into your skin. "You um--you have my purse, right?" You fold your hands against your lap. "I need my phone. I--I need to call a taxi."

"What?" His voice doesn't come out angry, but there's a flatness there that burrows deep into the pit of your stomach. It almost feels disappointed. "Why?"

You squeeze your hands together, "I want to go home." You still can't look at him. "I want to go back to my room." Your voice starts to crack on the last word. Nails instinctually dig into your knee.

Felix sighs, angling himself towards you, "You don't have to do that." His voice is soft, cautious. "If you want to leave, I'll take you."

"No," you shake your head once, attention still focused forward to keep him from noticing the fact that your eyes are now watering. All of this feels so dumb, so small. Why are you almost crying? "It's okay, you're having fun, I can get back by myself."

He lets out another breath, moving his arm so that his hand sits between both of you. "You're drunk."

"So are you."

A beat of silence that feels like an attempt at admitting that he's more than just drunk. You saw Tyler--or Trevor, or maybe Timothy--wandering the halls. Some guy whose name you can never remember because he only shows up at the end of nights, when you're too out of it to do much more than just be happy. He's known for carrying--and sharing--harder stuff.

Not that you'd know. There's nowhere that Felix won't take you, nothing that he keeps from you. That's part of the beauty of your friendship, the lack of judgement. But Felix isn't fond of you participating in everything all the time.

If you ever show interest in anything on a night that Felix isn't feeling too sure about, he'll offer to get you whatever you want later, when it's just the two of you. Maybe you'd mind his concern if you cared about getting high more.

You can feel Felix's stare, the weight of his full attention. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone, after drinking, in the middle of the night."

There's a patience there that makes it hard to sit still. You turn your head, finally looking at him, "I'm fine. I can--" You cut yourself off with a slight sniffle.

You wipe at your face with the side of your palm. Felix's eyebrows are pinched together. You don't know what to make of the way he's watching you. Felix lifts his hand, fingers finding their way against your jaw before you can move. "You're upset."

Pressing your lips together, you try to force yourself to look as neutral as possible. "I'm fine." He doesn't move. "You should go back to your party, Felix."

"The party?" His expression briefly contorts in confusion. "I don't care about the party." Your vision is starting to blur. "There are other parties. You're crying." Felix shifts his hand up your face, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.

You try to take a stabilizing breath, "It's not a big deal." You will yourself to move, to rely on him less. "I don't think I'm going to be any fun tonight, you should go, and I--I'll talk you tomorrow."

He frowns. "You don't have to be any fun." Felix shouldn't have to coddle you. Embarrassment and guilt further knot your stomach. "If you want to sit here, we can sit here. If you want to go inside, we can go inside. If you want to go home, we'll go home."

"Earlier," you manage, focusing on keeping your voice as even as possible, "When we--" Tears pool in your eyes, something at the back of your throat constricts. "I didn't--I don't know--"

You're not making sense, forcing out fragments of thoughts that don't work together. Felix seems to understand anyway, his thumb grazing against your cheek. "We don't have to talk about that now." You nod slowly. "If you still want to go home, let me take you."

You attempt a full breath, "But what ab--"

He tilts his head in a way that makes it feel like he's telling you a secret, "If you ask about the party again, I'm calling you delusional."

You roll your eyes. It's a relatively lame threat, but it serves its purpose. The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards, your lips pressed together to hold in a partial laugh. "Okay."

Felix's hand slips from the side of your face and finds a new place against your shoulder. "Yeah? Let's go then."

He stands first and then extends an arm to help you. His stability makes it easier.

There is no laughter or pausing on sidewalks to try to hold onto each other. The two of you are quiet, but Felix does keep your fingers intertwined the entire way back to his dorm.

You don't think to question where he's taking you until you're in his room. "Felix." The walk had been good for you, the fresh air and time to gather your thoughts providing enough of a reprieve for you to get it together. "I want to go to sleep."

"Yeah," he mumbles, "I know, I'll get you your favorite shirt."

Your eyes focus on the ground. "I think I should sleep in my room tonight."

Felix sighs, turning away from the door. "You're trying to leave again."

The accusation only half makes sense, but there's a quietness to his voice that gets to you. All the nervous, alcohol fueled energy is coming back with a vengeance. "When have I ever left you?"

Felix scoffs, the sound bitter. "You left me tonight." If his voice was any less raspy, any less urging, you likely would have laughed. He's the one that got mad at you. "You just--you walked away from me. Like I didn't even matter to you."

The a thinly veiled sadness there that almost feels nervous. He can't meet your gaze. The pride encouraging you to stand still bleeds from you. Without its heat, its fire, there's not much keeping you stable.

You move forward, footsteps cautious. "Felix." You stretch a hand forward, fingers brushing against his forearm. He doesn't move. "Of course you matter to me. So much." Your fingers bend around his wrist. "You're my best friend."

He turns his arm. Your body tenses, preparing for his rejection. Felix's hand squeezes yours. There's a tension in his hold, but you embrace it all the same. "You walked away from me."

You take another step towards him, freehand finding his arm. "That's why." He sets a hand against you waist. The contact is firm, unforgiving. There's still hurt, but the only thing more unthinkable than holding on is letting go. "What you say means so much to me, because you're my best friend." His fingers press into your side. "And you were upset--and there were so many people--" Tears prick the corner of your eyes. "And I couldn't do that there."

"No." He squeezes your hand. "No, don't--don't cry, we're okay." As if to prove his point, Felix pulls you closer. The movement's too sudden for you to keep your balance on your own. You tighten your hold on Felix's arm. "Still my best girl, yeah?"

This is nowhere near the closest you've ever been to him. He has a hand on your hip, but that's far from the touchiest he's ever been. It shouldn't--he shouldn't be this distracting. It takes you a second too long to remember to nod.

He angles his head downwards, his cheek finding a place against your shoulder. Felix's breath is warm against your neck. "Wouldn't leave me."

You nod, moving your hand to rest against his back. Felix relaxes against you. It's not easy to stay stable with the alcohol still in your system and Felix's weight on you, but you manage.

"No." You mean it so much it almost hurts to get out. You'd never walk away from him. There's nothing like your bond with Felix. You could talk to him, be around him forever without feeling drained. "Of course not."

Felix turns his head, brushing his lips against your neck. "Stay over, then?" The question is soft, fragile. It'd be smart to create distance. If tonight's proven anything, it's that you're too attached to him. "Please?"

You smooth your knuckles against his spine. "Okay." He presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Yeah. I'll stay."

He hugs you even tighter. "No more tears, alright?"

You squeeze him back. "Alright."

For awhile, the two of you stay like that. There's nothing left to say, and that still manages to be comfortable. Silence is never uncomfortable with Felix.

He eventually shifts to place a kiss against the side of your neck. "We should get ready for bed."

You hum once in agreement. Neither of you move. Things are simple when you factor out the rest of the world. Things are easy when it's just you and Felix.

An overwhelming wave of fondness brings you back. As gently as possible, you start the process of untangling limbs. Felix pouts at you, expression drowsier than before.

Your fingers carefully brush his hair out of his face. "I need to change."

Felix fully straightens. His hand finds the back of your head. He pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Okay."

He lets go of you before walking towards his dresser. Felix opens the top drawer and finds your usual sleep shirt. You take it before entering his bathroom.

Going out outfits are cute, but there's something about the moment you get home that immediately forces every ounce of discomfort to hit all at once. You shed the restrictive layers before pulling Felix's T-shirt over your head.

You swear there's some kind of rich guy secret to keeping clothes this soft. A combination of fabric, fancy detergent, and some third thing that's reserved for those in the know.

You turn on the sink, ready to wash what's left of the night off of your face. Felix has never gotten rid of or moved anything you've left in here. What's left of your buzz has you more emotional than usual, making the evidence of your life in his space heavier than it should be.

The feeling is good and bad all at once. Your attachment to Felix is the kind of thing that can only come from fully understanding someone. But there's an inherent danger in knowing someone like that, carrying about them like that. Especially Felix, who has everyone so he doesn't need anyone.

You splash some more water onto your face, attempting to shake off any lingering angst. You don't want to dissect your friendship until it eventually falls apart into nothingness.

When you finally step back into his room, Felix is sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. He's managed to change into pajama pants, but seems to be struggling with everything else. His shirt's half unbuttoned, and his fingers are actively working at undoing the rest of them. Felix's movements are slow and clumsy as he tugs on the fabric.

Wow. Maybe you were right to think he was high. "Hey." He looks up at you, hands still attempting to pull apart his shirt. There's something endearing about the clumsiness. He drops his head back down to refocus."Do you--uh--do you need help?"

He angles his head to one side, a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking to undress me?"

Heat burns through your chest, leaving you hollow. You approach his dresser, leaving your neatly folded outfit on the wooden surface. "Figure out your own shirt."

"No," his sigh is light, almost a laugh, "'M kidding." Your glare only seems to add to his easygoing mood. He smiles, dropping a hand to pat the space next to him. "Come here."

You give in with a sigh, crossing the room and sitting at the foot of his bed. He reaches forward, briefly squeezing your shoulder before returning to work on his shirt. It's hard to watch him stumble through undoing a single button, just to have to start the process all over again.

You pull your legs onto the bed, turning to fully face him. Your knee is pressed against his thigh.

"Lovie," he hums, as if your presence is some kind of revelation.

"Felix." He grins, hands releasing his shirt in favor of trying to grasp your arm. "Wait--" His fingers wrap around your wrist. "I'm--trying--" He pulls your hand towards him, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You laugh. "I'm trying to help you."

He tugs on your arm. His pull isn't harsh, but the unexpectedness of it paired with your buzz makes it enough to throw off your balance. Your freehand presses against the mattress in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Felix laughs, tugging on you again.

Fighting your own fit of giggles, you instinctually push yourself onto your knees in an attempt to regain some control. Felix gives you a second to find your footing. You gently pull his hand off of your forearm and set it on his lap. He frowns.

You extend your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders. Part of the reason for it is to help keep you stable, the rest of it is to keep him focused. He looks up at you, eyes pools of hesitant affection. "Stay still."

He lets you reach for his shirt. "Y'don't have to, I'm okay."

Shrugging, you continue to work at unclasping his buttons. "It's okay, I like helping you."

You unbutton the few buttons that are left. "Better?" Felix nods. "I'll get you a pajama shirt."

Before you can get far, Felix grabs your hand. "We're..." He focuses on bending and straightening your fingers. "Good, right?"

There's something soft about the question, almost shy. "Yeah." He turns over your palm, tracing the lines etched into your skin. "Of course we're good." You adjust, crossing your legs beneath you to sit down.

"Honestly, I was thinking about it, and part of the reason I was upset is because..." This is harder to admit than you thought it'd be. "You seemed really okay without me, and that--I don't know. It's dumb, because I really do want you to be happy, but it made me feel a little replaceable, I guess."

"What?"

You sigh, dropping your attention to your intertwined hands. "I know, I said it was dumb." You pause, eyes darting up to look at him. His expression isn't judgmental or like he needs space. You can't fully read his expression, but nothing about the way he's looking at you feels unkind. "I only mentioned it to be honest, I don't like the idea of keeping se--"

He pulls on your arm again, this time his hold a little firmer. You're closer now. Felix's other hand finds your hip, anchoring you in place. You're too confused to do anything but blink at him.

Felix lets go of your arm, fingers finding their way beneath your chin. He angles your head so that all of your attention is on him. Your lips part, a half thought out question is on the tip of your tongue when Felix leans towards you. His lips meet yours.

You're still, shock and something a lot more electric rendering you in capable of anything else. This isn't the first time Felix has pressed his lips against yours. He's affectionate, especially when drinking is involved. He'll brush his lips against yours after taking a shot together, or just because at the end of a long night. It's not an everyday thing, but it's happened from time to time.

This--this isn't that. He's lingering, lips parting so that his teeth can graze against your bottom lip. Felix pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. His thumb brushes across your cheek.

"You're my best friend." Felix's words are so urging, so pleading you nod before you can think. "Best mate. You're the--the only one that gets me. Really gets me." His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you back to him.

Any sense of hesitance vanishes the second time he kisses you. He's all consuming, lips dragging against yours with a desperate patience that's dizzying. It's disorientating, the desire to be that much closer to someone when there's no way to get there.

Felix's hand finds your back. He pushes you towards him. There's no good way to oblige. You try anyway, shifting your weight back onto your knees. Felix pulls you forward by your waist. You're too focused on him to realize what's happening until you're on his lap.

He takes his time letting you go, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. "I trust you more than anyone." Felix leans back in, placing a quick kiss against your lips. "You're not replaceable." He squeezes your shoulder. "You know that, right?"

Still breathless, you nod. He's watching you with so much patience, so much care it's almost hard to bare.

His thumb smooths circles against your shoulder. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"

You lift his hand off your thigh to press a kiss against the back of his palm. "Yeah, lets go to bed."

He squeezes your shoulder once before letting you go. You move off of his lap carefully.

Felix sits up enough to push his shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes instinctually fall to his sheets. "Do you want me to get you a shirt?"

"Why? Distracted?"

You roll your eyes in an attempt to the fact that you are struggling to look at him. "Shut up."

He grins as he pulls back his sheets. "M'okay." You take the opportunity to slip beneath the layers of fabric. Felix waits until you're settled to crawl beneath the sheets. "It's warm enough, even with you stealing my blankets."

"I do not," the sentence is more of a mock gasp than anything else. Felix shifts onto his side before collapsing his weight on you. "Felix."

"What?" He rests his cheek against your chest. "This is the only way to keep you from taking my sheets."

You sigh, feigning annoyance as your fingers find his hair. "Rude. I'm a great bed sharer."

Felix lets out a partial laugh against the side of your neck. His hand finds your hip. "You are pretty great."

Your hand trails down towards his back, nails grazing against the bare skin. "You are, too."

Silence stretches between the two of you for so long you assume that he's already fallen asleep. Felix has a talent for drifting off in the blink of an eye.

"Lovie?" He whispers the term so lowly you almost convince yourself the sound is a figment of your imagination.

"Yeah?"

You can feel the shift in his breathing. "It's you and me--just you and me, when it comes down to it." His thumb brushes up and down your side. "You know that."

He relaxes as your fingers trail down the start of his spine. "Yeah. Of course I know that." A part of you feels naive for believing his words so easily. He's too adored to just be your Felix at the end of the day, and yet-- "Just you and me."

Felix leaves an open mouthed kiss against collarbone. It's the kind of warm that leaves goosebumps breaking out everywhere the contact can't be felt. "Good."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriendfelix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him.

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down.

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited.

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him.

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal.

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen.

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer.

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either.

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave.

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it.

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead.

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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milkistay · 11 months

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STRAY KIDS and jealousy

pairing. skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

chan

- on one hand, he’s so used to being level-headed and being the one to alleviate rough situations - he’s a leader after all - but on the other hand, he can’t help but get irrationally jealous sometimes - and he beats himself up over it because he knows he’s better than this - he has a possessive quality about him, especially when it’s you - but what he also has is the fantastic ability to recognize his feelings and know how to properly process them - so when he gets jealous, he takes time to himself to calm down and think more rationally - when he reenters the situation, he feels more himself and is reminded how much he loves and trusts you - you two talk it out a bit and swap reassurances of love and it works out <3

minho

- will take it seriously if you betray his trust - even if he gets jealous on his own accord, he’s not the most amicable - maybe he jumps to conclusions a bit fast and ends up shutting you out to try and protect himself and his feelings - can tend to get uncommunicative which makes it difficult to reach him - his intentions aren’t malicious, he just immediately goes into self-preservation mode - it often takes him talking to one of the other members for them to make him realize he’s overreacting - then he talks to you and you work it out - his jealousy can become a point of contention in your relationship but it’s nothing you can’t work out and make less serious as time goes on - at the end of the day you love each other

changbin

- feels the need to overcompensate :(( - turns up his comedy to try and make you laugh more than the person he’s jealous of - just tries to remind you why he’s better by showing off his charm - after a while, he starts to feel a bit silly - when you two are finally alone, then he’ll be transparent with how he’s feeling and try to work his emotions out with you - you’re always willing to have the conversations he needs to have - and you both leave feeling closer and more confident in your relationship - changbin king of communication!

hyunjin

- doesn’t tend to get jealous because he is such a romantic and loves with his WHOLE heart so if he’s getting into a relationship, he’s making sure there is SO much love between him and his partner - so if he gets in a relationship with you, you best believe he trusts you fully - so when he does get jealous, it’s not that he’s worried something will happen - he more so just gets a bit sad because he’s missing you - he doesn’t expect to be at the center of your attention 24/7 but it just saddens him a bit when you’re spending more time with someone else - he just misses you! - but then he sees you again and you go out and everything’s okay again

jisung

- he turns his jealousy inwards on himself rather than you or the person he’s jealous of - it sort of just heightens his insecurities - makes him spiral into why he’s not good enough for you - even though that’s not the case at all - also blames himself for feeling that way because it makes him feel foolish - just lets himself take all of the punches from his jealousy - doesn’t want to be stupid and get you involved - but it doesn’t take much to pull him out of that spiral - just a little bit of assurance that you love him and he’s all smiles again

felix

- felix has a big heart and cares a lot about the health of your relationship - if he gets jealous or feels insecure as a partner, he wants to do everything he can to fix it - usually this will be talking it out with you - but he rarely takes the lead in these conversations - instead, he shares all of his feelings and thoughts and looks to you for advice - sometimes he’ll ask his others members for advice as to not burden you with his issues - he just wants to find a solution that works for the both of you, whether that’s spending more time together, giving one another more assurance, etc. - he’s not one to shut you out or take time to himself, he’s more one to jump into a back-and-forth with you to figure out how to keep jealousy at bay

seungmin

- doesn’t really get jealous - hates the feeling cause he’s just making discomfort for himself - trusts you and respects your decisions to spend time with whoever you want - as long as you come home to him at the end of the day and you fall asleep in his arms, who’s he to complain? - if he DOES somehow get jealous, he just gets upset at himself - takes some time away from the situation to put it in perspective and figure his emotions out - ends up just ignoring it until it goes away

jeongin

- he may have a jealous instinct - but he has more of a communication instinct - so when he gets jealous, he channels his natural fervor into confronting you directly to talk it out - he’s very honest and blunt with how he’s feeling and expect you to be the same - doesn’t appreciate it if you dance around the issue - so be transparent with him and the issue gets solved just like that - his other method is removing himself from the situation and sitting with himself or with another member to work out his feelings independently - he’s a mature one, very good at working out relationship issues

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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months

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> MC ASPECTS < How you renowned around town “You make your own reality. And once you’ve done it, apparently, everyone’s of the opinion it was all so fucking obvious.” - Logan - Fucking - ROy

!!parental advisory explicit!!

MC Aspecting Sun - “rome, I think you're a super talented superstar and I love you” - Shiv Roy : Its hard not to notice you, you got a poise of regality, and you work the public sphere with ease; you put yourself out there and you get a lot of attention from onlookers - and it makes you one of a kind. you are someone with dignity and maybe too much self respect for some, to give you the credit that you do deserve > because no one does it quite like you - high key a dominant force in any room you enter - wolf of wall street vibes and lets be honest you are not above having a party at the office... and paying hookers to make it more cool...... you do the most and its a vibe vibe MC Aspecting Moon - "They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" - Therapist in succession You know how to put people at ease, and your basically a professional therapist at this point. You can lighten up anyones mood or piss everyone off depending on how you feel. And this understanding of psychology really benefits you; because people want to treat you right, so you can give them some insight as to why they have a mental breakdown every 5 minutes (this generations daily cycle) your like a dog that lives in a hair-salon and everyone wanna get a cuddle from it/he/she/thing/you

MC Aspecting Mercury - “Information, Greg, it’s like a bottle of fine wine. You store it, you hoard it, you save it for a special occasion and then you smash someone’s face with it.” - Tom Wambsgams When you stfu people are wondering what your thinking. because somehow. someway. you've taken control of the conversation, and whatever you say is taken with heavier consideration then the average person. However that does not mean you get your way, it just means we listen to you the most - easily the most valuable insight comes from you guys, and your perceived as. a hustler. no wonder your careful with ur words because you dont really care about getting the right answer in the known, if that ultimately inteferes with your master plan you'll just stay quiet - because you know how to navigate the world with words, and your aware that ultimately the final word - the best word - is the deciding factor of what we do MC Aspecting Venus - "Here’s the thing about being rich, okay? It’s fucking great. It’s like being a superhero, only better. You get to do what you want — the authorities can’t really touch you. You get to wear a costume, but it’s designed by Armani and it doesn’t make you look like a prick." - Tom Wambsgams Beauty pageants. Everyone is interested in you, because your beautiful and your graceful, and you'd make a fine edition to the list of exes that everyone has. So besides the fact that your fuckable, you know how to charm people so easily and thats why you get so much attention, and its positive unless your insecure about how attractive you are.... which is a real thing... and id say just get that plastic surgery or stfu and find some real solutions. i mean has anyone ever tried to tell a beautiful person, that they beautiful.... its exhausting... and then they just look for someone else (more beautiful) to get that validation. its a death trap!!! dont fall for that bs... but damn yo fine ass better get used to being a fine ass or someone gonna commit a crime on yo ass MC Aspecting Mars - "I got a track record from founding one of the most exciting new media brands in the world. And what do you got? Track marks from shooting junk? Thanks for coming down. It was great to meet you." - Lawyrence Yee Unfuckwitable - you embody the underdog - and i mean an under dog thorugh and through; youll bark at anything that pisses yall offf, and thats why people watch they step around yall, no one wanna get bitten by da big dog with a small dog complex. but your fierce and people try their best to match your aggressive energy just to save face for themselves - meanwhile your just more pissed off that you always gotta show yo teeth to anyone you talk to lol. Your competitive and act like crackhead that knows karate. everyone is low key intimidated by ya, and you know it

MC Aspecting Jupiter - "Most things don't exist. the ford motor company hardly exists. It's just a time saving expression for a collection of financial interests." - Logan RoyEveryone likes you, and sometimes you don't even understand why, and thats just another reason to like you. You show a geniune uninterest in any boring mundane activities > and this lack of care for bullshit makes it so that when you do show an interest for something > you've somehow convinced everyone in the room that your enthusiasm defines whats enjoyable. and this discernment makes others believe that your the new budha for socio-economic observations . I respect it. and you did it without even realizing, like thats a feat initself, and you guys are 100 feet tall in everyone elses eyes because you got a name fo yo self MC aspecting Saturn - "the actual fact is we're persuading more and more shareholders everyday that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on the dollar…and that's all that this is…." - Stewy Hosseini The boss is here and now everyone gotta actually do something productive. you guys have respect, and people know that if they don't come at you correctly, then you'll correct it for them, and no one wanna be daddied by the king kong daddy. Your life is defined by hardships and this is the most noticeable trait about yall, and it has molded you into a gus fring. A stone cold killer. You don't have to say much but the weight of your presence in itself, is so much pressure, that everyone wanna ask for more time, but no one wanna be scolded by yall so we just stfu and deal with it MC Aspecting Uranus - "Nothing is a line. Everything, everywhere is always moving. Forever. Get used to it." - Logan Roy Who is they? who are we? why can they get away with acting like a complete fucking retard? Well they don't 'get away with it' they just fucking do it. I mean the balls on ya'll is undeniable, but the audacity and the concept of why. well no one knows and I don't think you do either. But you literally change the game wherever you go, because you do ridiculous shit just to make fun of reality, and it really does expose how much of a cult we all live in; since we all about our own rituals of bullshit. I applaud the audacity but everyone gets nervous around your unpredictable nervous explosions - your like a charged creeper; youve been shocked by something and now you just have to explode and ruin everyones buildings

MC Aspecting Neptune - "Climate said I was going down. Climate said I should just step aside. I guess I'm a climate denier" - Logan Roy You're imagination personified. You somehow write your favourite stories into reality > and you do this so uncosnciosuly thst you've somehow convinced everyone its real. You don't care much for whats actually real, you'd rather manifest what you want to be real > no matter whats being thrown at you (and theres a lot) you have a uncanny ability to be a energy conduit > and transform that energy into what pleases you the most. And because of this you appear to be a mystic. and theres a tendency to be very calm, and if life throws too much shit at you > and you've ran outta favours, its adios to the world. and the long road of finding your purpose again awaits! MC Aspecting Pluto - "Would you like to hear my favourite passage from Shakespear? Take the fucking money." - Logan Roy You are daunting aren't you. people don't talk to you very much, at least not any normal self abiding citizen. you look like TMNT - you look neglected > look like you ate some radioactive poison > became this mutant thing > and was raised by a rat that could beat your ass... how'd that go? you look great! I would shake your hand but Im honestly afraid your gonna bite me. Look your life is intense and borderline traumatic, I get it. but this makes you so mesmerising > you can have the whole room in a trance with your dark aura, and people just hand you power like its nothing. You don't even care tho, and thats what makes you even more powerful lol > if anyone can handle the dark. its you > and a powerful 'rep' requires someone who doesn't fuck around. and you do not

highly highly recommend succession > all the quotes used are from dat show - and its a fkn masta piece

#Mc aspects #astrology #astrology blog #astro community #astrology notes #astrology observations #house placements #astrology houses #astrology placements

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secretsideblogshhhh · 7 months

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Imagine you live in a kingdom. Everything in this kingdom was modeled after the founder of the whole city.

This means the house sizes, the utensils, the clothes, every single thing, was made for him.

And for plenty of people this is fine. The clothes fit them, the cabinets are easy enough to reach, the size of the tools are perfect.

But you're a fair bit smaller than this guy was. The clothes are extremely baggy on you. You struggle to keep them on. They get in your way and you trip over them all the time.

You can't reach the cabinets, the tools are hard to hold in your hands.

Everything you do takes so much effort because nothing here was made for you.

But everyone else gets annoyed by this, not because of the system made that makes life hard on you, but because you're different.

They hate you constantly tripping.

You mention maybe getting a belt to help with that, and everyone you know gets mad at you for even suggesting it.

"you don't really need a belt"

"you could just take some growth medicine, get bigger"

"you don't deserve special treatment just because you're different"

"well everything works just fine for me, I don't know why you have issues"

And it's frustrating. The only person who you can relate to is your buddy Tim, who's a whole lot bigger than the guy everything was made for was.

His clothes cut off his circulation, they actively hurt him.

He hits his head on doors, he can barely use the tools because they're so small to him.

He wants to make his own clothes, but he can't afford it because he can't keep a job.

No one wants to hire a guy who can't hold the tools, or who needs a break every few hours so he can take off his clothes in the bathroom to breathe.

And even if he did manage to get the money, the tools are too small. He'd have to hire someone.

And hiring someone would cost so much more.

Of course the responses he gets are similar to yours.

"you're just lazy, it's not that hard to get and keep a job"

"have you tried just losing weight? That's probably what's causing all your issues"

You and him bond over this. How the world is cruel to you for being different. You found each other because of you were different from everyone else and it brought you closer

But then people see your friendship. It would be natural to assume that your friendship makes sense. You have the same struggles after all.

But no.

People see that you're friends and say

"well obviously you're both making up your issues, it's so rare for even one of you to exist. But 2 of you? You have to be lying for attention"

You try to show them that your issues are real, because you want help. You'd love for others to understand and help you fix the way the kingdom is built.

But people look away, they ignore you. Either pretending to not see you or they just invalidate your experience.

"everyone has rough days"

"you just got some poorly made clothes"

"He just wants an excuse so he doesn't have to work"

"if you just tried harder-"

Everyone seems to have some solution for your issues, ones you've tried a hundred times before.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on your existence. Usually pity or disgust. Often a mix of both, though the disgust isn't something anyone will admit to aloud. Their actions speak loud enough though.

That's how it feels to have a disability. Especially an invisible one. You have to fight just to be heard and it's exhausting.

Everything that you do is a struggle people who aren't disabled just don't understand. And it's infuriating how they write you off just because they don't want to even try to understand

#physically disabled #invisible disability #disabled #chronic disability #disability #fibromyalgia #did system #the secret system #disabled pride #disability pride #vent #chronic pain

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azsazz · 11 months

Text

What's Mine

Rhysand x Eris x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Hear me out: alphas are super possessive anyway, but imagine high lord/future high lord - way more protective right? Especially in a scenario where there’s other ‘big bad alphas’ around e.g. other high lords at a ball, or at the court of nightmares

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, smut, Rhys using his daemati powers, fireplay maybe.

Word Count: 6,337

Notes: IS ERRHYS MY NEW FAVORITE THING? This is prob the best smut I've written tbh i'm obsessed with these two.

_________________________________________

The ballroom is spinning as you make your way towards the nearest wall. You’re sweating, body hot as you retreat, and it’s not the faewine or the dancing that has you feeling this way, you know it.

You stumble on the sweeping tail of your dress, tugging at the high collar of it as you go because it’s suffocating you and you don’t know why.

People are giving you weird looks.

You slump against the wall, knees locking as you try to stay upright. You don’t know what’s happening, your mind swirling as the intoxicating scents of alphas, betas, and bonded omegas throughout the ballroom sharpen, and your cunt throbs when you pick up the hint of the Night Court patrons within the mass of fae.

An unbonded omega will always be invited to a High Lord’s ball like this, especially one of Beron Vanserra’s parties, a feeding ground for worthy alphas to lay claim to their submissive species.

You’d begged Rhysand to come. As another set of eyes, you’d offered to protect the omegas who were being forced into bonds they didn’t want. It was the only reason Rhysand attended these things, though you weren’t entirely sure why the unbonded alpha High Lord of your court never took one of the preening omegas home.

Probably because some of them were spies.

As a beta, you didn’t have to worry about ruts or heats, letting lust and the urge to be bred make your choices for you. You were free to fuck who you pleased and lived how you wanted, the unlucky female of Rhysand’s Inner Circle who never presented as either of the desirable genus’.

So you don’t have an inkling of understanding of what’s going on. Someone would have had to poison your drink if you’re feeling this way, which isn’t entirely off of the table of possibilities. Being a member of Rhysand’s Inner Circle meant that you were an asset to him and a threat to everyone else.

“Shit,” you groan, clenching your legs together. But why would it be a poison that’s making lust burn your senses into a fiery oblivion. Why do you feel the need to follow the strong scents within the room and jump onto the cock of the nearest delicious smelling one?

You’re trying to clear your mind, focus on one thought at a time but it’s draining. It takes more effort that you’d like, you’d always prided yourself for your quick mind and battle solutions. But the only battle happening right now is the war within your body, fighting for something to exude the swelling pressure between your thighs.

You blink harshly, once, twice, as someone approaches. Their height covers the bright faelights that have been stinging your eyes and making your swirling head pound, and their scent nearly brings you to your knees and have you whimpering like a pup.

Eris Vanserra, eldest alpha of his siblings, stands before you, curiosity gleaming in those caramelized eyes of his.

He leans forward, and you feel the sharp tips of his teeth as he drags them over your covered throat. The sound of him lapping up your scent makes the hair at the nape of your neck stand. You hunch lower, sweat beading at your brow as you desperately try to make eye contact with anyone else in the crowded ballroom, but Eris’ shoulders are too wide, blocking your view.

“Ah, little omega,” he drawls, the silken taunt of his voice is a low rumble, all alpha. Your thighs clench together as instinct tries to take over and your heart pounds in your chest. You shouldn’t be this much of a mess beneath his caramel gaze, pupils so wide you can nearly see into the depths of his soul. “You shouldn’t have come here all alone–”

His words catch up to you through the haze of your mind, cutting through the clouds like a lightning strike. Your brows pull tight into a furrow as your hands slap against his chest, trying to shove him off to take a gasp of air. The room is much too hot and your dress sticks to your skin in the most uncomfortable way.

“I’m not! I’m just a beta,” you plead to the lordling. He’s all but touching you right now, caging you in with his hands pressed firmly to the wall on either side of your head. Eris falters for a moment, but then his eyes narrow and he’s scenting your neck again to be sure.

You’re overwhelmed by his proximity and the palms you’ve laid flat against his chest curl into fists, his finely pressed emerald shirt crumpling in your fingers as the heady scent of firewood and bourbon rushes your senses. It takes all of your self control not to pull his body into yours, not to let the cocky alpha heir slide his knee up against your dress-covered cunt so you can grind down on him like your body wants. Your arms shake with the effort to keep him at bay, both his and your own self control quickly dwindling. No. You need to find Rhys or Azriel or Cassian, someone from your own court who will know how to help you because this…this is not how betas are supposed to act.

“Don’t lie to me,” Eris hisses, pulling away slightly, just enough for you to catch the swirling black mass of darkness forming over his back. Your shoulders relax slightly, but Eris doesn’t take notice, too enthralled by the scent of your hormones spilling off of your body. “I know you want my knot, little omega, that you need it like the bitch in heat you are…”

Rhysand’s hand clamps down on the Autumn heir’s shoulder, sharp talons of onyx piercing the expensive shirt. The sharp twinge of blood has you drooling. If only it were up a few more inches, right on his throat and made by your teeth. The High Lord of darkness all but roars at the rivaling alpha. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Eris doesn’t like being told what to do. He is an immovable force as Rhys squeezes with warning, pristine, red blood staining the dark fabric. Eris snarls and shoves off Rhys’ grip, lips curled in disgust from the way the Night Court swill has mottled his fine silks.

“I’ll touch whomever I please,” Eris spits, turning that heated gaze on you once more. His eyes are lit with not only the throes of lust, but anger as well. “Especially an unbound omega who wants my knot.”

Rhys falters at the lordling's words, smoldering violet gaze flicking to your pleading one. You see his lips part in response and the moment he catches a whiff of your new scent, pupils tightening to pins before blowing wide with darkness, shadows crawling up his skin.

“She’s mine,” Rhysand growls so low it makes the floor beneath you rumble. The sensation crawls up your legs and straight to your cunt. You clench your thighs together and keen softly, unable to control yourself.

You even almost bare your neck to him.

“She’s not,” Eris answers, flicking a dismissive hand in Rhys’ direction, attention fully on you.

“She will be,” Rhys fights, sidling up to your side. His arm brushes yours and you almost crumple in your spot, body screaming in response to the two hot-headed, unbonded alphas fighting to be the one to see you through your heat.

Eris seems more than pleased to taunt your High Lord. “And what if I were to claim her right now?” he drawls, stroking a flaming finger down your neck. You have to bite back the whimper threatening to slip from your mouth at his delicate touch. Damn your omega senses right now, you can’t be trusted with yourself because of how badly you need his knot. “I could just lean over and mark her right here…”

“Then I’ll kill you and fill this fucking court with so much darkness that you suffocate,” Rhys snarls, his tone predatory. It makes the alpha caging you in go stiff, muscles rippling in response to the threat. Let him go, and I will get you out of here, Rhys tacks on, slipping easily through your weakened mental shields.

I can’t, you cry in response. Your knuckles are white with the effort you’re using to hold onto Eris. If you let go, surely your knees will give out and you like the way that his body is up against yours, how his threatening words make your skin dance with pleasure. He’s protecting you.

You chance a peek up at the towering alpha and it's the biggest mistake you can make right now. His amber eyes are bright with fire, the ring around his pupil gleaming hot white. It makes you shrink lower in response, your body submitting to the male before you. Eris grins sharply.

“Are you threatening the future High Lord of Autumn?” he taunts. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flick a glance to the brewing King of Night at your side. It infuriates Rhysand even more.

“No,” Rhysand responds easily, his fingers twitching to unwind yours from Eris’ shirt to take into his own. He wants you clinging to him like that, and by the Mother will he do absolutely anything necessary to take you home. “I’m threatening the fucking prick who’s trying to take what’s mine.”

Rhysand hadn’t ever told you, but you’d always caught his eye, since Cassian had introduced you to him centuries ago. But as a High Lord and an alpha, he hadn’t ever made a move, needing to find an omega to bear an heir. Old rules created before his own time. But now that you’re clearly an omega, and one in desperate need of an alpha's knot…the beast raging inside of him is moments from breaking free and claiming you for his own.

He will spill Eris’ blood in your honor. To prove to you that he is a male worthy of your time, deserving of the spot to knot you and see you through your first heat.

“And what does the little omega want?” Eris asks, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. Rhysand watches with dark eyes. You’re sure that you look a mess right now, damp with sweat, your legs shaking as they try to keep you on your feet. Your fists are still twisted in Eris’ shirt and you can’t seem to force yourself to let go. All you want to do is lie down and take his knot, let him fill you up and breed you until there’s a whole pack of firelings running around these halls.

But Rhys’ arm brushes against yours, his scent drifting your direction. It makes your eyes roll back into your head, the crisp scent of night and fresh cedar sharpening your senses. You want him too, want him wrapped around your body like the tattoos twisting up his arms, want to carry his darklings and see how he frets.

They are not safe thoughts but your body demands it of you. You hadn’t known that being an omega was so difficult, that you’d go into heat and would want all of the things you didn’t ever think you’d have some day.

You need to get out of here.

Eris tips your chin up and you don’t know when you’d buried your nose deep into the crook of his neck. The glistening skin of his throat shines and you know you’ve been licking over his scent glands but you’re too far gone to be embarrassed.

Through the haze, you make eye contact with Rhys, nervous that he’ll be furious with you for how you’re acting. His face is set in stone but you can read the rage in his eyes all too well, having seen it many times before. It isn’t directed at you. All he wants to do is rip the alpha away from you and take you home, back to the Night Court where the cool air will sate your senses and his cock will ease your pain.

“Both,” you gasp, choking on it as the thought floods your mind. “I want you both.”

“Fuck, darling,” Rhys curses. His hand finds your back, knuckles stroking down your spine in a motion you want to keep moving further south. “We can’t. We don’t have clearance to stay in Autumn longer than the night.”

You whimper loudly and their hands tighten on you, Eris’ falling from the wall to your hips to pull you closer. You nuzzle into him, the warmth delicious as the fabrics between the both of you brush the sensitive skin of your body as you writhe. His scent reminds you of cozy autumn nights spent before the fire with ciders in your hands and spices wafting through the air. He smells like comfort and protection.

“Take me back, then,” you pant, rutting against the autumnal heir as he slides a thigh between the slit of your dress to relieve some of the pain. You groan at the feeling. The friction is good but not nearly enough. Your hand finally melts away from Eris’ chest only to tug Rhysand closer behind you. The sharpness of night and forest reminds you of home. “Need you both.”

Caramel meets violet in a thunderstorm of anger, splintering apart when your panting turns uneven. You’re going to pass out if they can’t calm you down, and people are starting to whisper and stare at the sight of you pressed flush between both High Lords, making both of the alphas hackles rise.

“Like hell I’m letting her go,” Eris snarls, fingers brushing across your tight nipples as he slides them down your body. He wants to settle them on your hips but Rhysand is already there, trying to tug your hips to meet his straining cock in his trousers.

Eris bypasses Rhys’ grip on you in favor of slipping it between his leg and your sex, brushing against your clothed clit. He loves the way that your nails claw in response, nearly shredding the rest of his shirt, and he wants you to leave burning red marks across the planes of his pale back, wants to revel in the needy omega from Night.

He smirks at Rhysand as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

“Then give us permission to stay,” Rhys says darkly, hands sliding down your sides in wanton. His breath puffs against the sensitive skin of your neck and he takes the moment for a teasing lick that you want to turn into more, a claim on you, teeth deep in your flesh and drawing blood until you’re his, and then you want Eris to do so on the other side until you’re theirs and no one else can tell you any different.

The Autumn Court male would rather burn, but the tears in your eyes has him cussing and agreeing, “Fuck. Fine. You can stay until her heat is over. No longer.”

Rhysand’s eyes blaze at the terms, how the copper haired alpha hadn’t mentioned anything about you returning with him. His jaw clenches so hard you think you hear his teeth crack. “Agreed.”

The Night Court High Lord grunts as the pact is made, a deep purple burn branding his skin with an autumn rope of vine like cattle. Eris shudders with you in his hold as whispers of menacing nightmares slither across his skin like ice, wrapping around his wrist like a vice, locking the agreement into place.

As soon as the deal settles in his bones Eris winnows you away. Rhys growls in warning, his fingers are barely brushing against the Autumn Court heir at all, but the copper haired alpha smirks, not at all minding if Rhys gets lost along the way.

Asshole.

Dickhead.

Rhys tenses as the room whispers into view, prepared for any trap the eldest Vanserra may have taken you to. He knows it’s no longer the Woodland House, the massive estate built for Beron in the clearing of orange and crimson leaved trees. This place…is quaint, warm sunset filtering through the soft curtained windows. It smells like fresh cotton but he can scent the underlying staleness in the air.

Eris has never brought anyone here.

His gaze follows Rhysand like one of his shadowhounds, his grip on you tight like a vice. This is his home, and he will not be made to feel vulnerable nor ashamed of it when he’s the one who’s allowed the Night Court miscreant to stay.

“This is Briarhome,” he murmurs softly, the only reprieve he’s going to give the other alpha, who's still drinking in the room, “My home.”

Not the Woodland House. He never knots in the Woodland House. Not with his brothers and father so close, where everything can be – and is – used as a weapon. He hasn’t even brought an omega to this home, no, this is his sacred spot for him and his bonded omega…or future bonded omega.

And apparently Rhysand, for the night.

Maybe the High Lord has been wrong about him.

His bed looks like the perfect spot for nesting, filled with soft quilts and a mass of pillows that makes you want to climb into and never leave. Warmth fills your stomach and drips down your thighs at the thought of knotting the both of them in such a safe place. Your heart swells and Eris lifts you into his arms, the alpha all soft and gentle now that he’s in the privacy of his own home.

You whimper when he settles you and draws away, only to his knees to start undressing. The pain is overwhelming, and you’d feel bad for being the sweaty, needy mess that you are but it’s your new nature, and neither of them will let you feel bad about it.

Eris unbuttons his shirt, fingers moving deftly across the buttons as Rhysand circles the bed, searching for the best vantage point to grab at you. Your gaze moves to his violent purple ones, your breath catching in your throat at the predatory way he’s looking at you and Eris on the bed, nostrils flaring as your body reacts with a wave of arousal at his face.

You zero in on Eris as the silk shirt slips in rivulets down his pale skin, showing off an impressive set of muscles, adorned with freckles. Your hips buck and his smirk goes soft at the snivel you release, hands snaking down to relieve the ache between your thighs.

Rhys tuts from the side of the bed, slipping into your mind. It’s like walking through fog, with the amount of desire clouding your mind. He opens himself up, just for a moment, and is flooded with your intoxicating thoughts. The feeling floods straight to his cock and he groans, shutting himself out of your mind before his knot expands in his trousers.

He climbs onto the bed, fingertips dipped in night reaching for the high collar of your dress as Eris glides his hands up your exposed thighs, grabbing a fistful of the black fabric making up the bottom of your dress. You arch under their touch, moaning wildly and they haven’t even begun to touch you where you need.

Together, both alphas growling in response to your call, they tear the front of your dress open, collar to hemline, exposing your flushed, creamy skin. The air of the room laps at your overheating skin and you gasp as your nipples tighten.

Hands instantly find your body as yours fist into the sheets, Rhysand caressing your cheek as he turns your face to capture you in a blistering kiss while Eris tugs your panties down your legs in haste.

You jolt against Rhysand’s mouth as something flicks against your throbbing clit. The primal groan you hear in answer to your taste sends shivers up your spine, and Eris is diving in without warning, trying to bury himself in your cunt, sloppy tongue lapping at your slick, wetting his cheeks and marking himself with your flavor.

Rhysand’s teeth are sharp as they nip your lip, drawing your attention back to the Night Court alpha who’s demanding your time. He coaxes your fingers from the sheets and they immediately latch onto him, just as he wanted. His fingers trail across the tight skin of your breasts, dancing over your sensitive nipples as he licks into your mouth.

You don’t like the amount of clothes he has on. How the alpha is supposed to mount you with his body covered is impossible, and you tug at the collar of his shirt, showing your utter frustration through your actions because your mouth can’t form words.

Careful, omega, his voice reverberates in your skull and then he’s everywhere all at once. I’m the one in charge.

Are you sure? You pant against his open mouth, like he’s your will to breathe. And with the way that the alpha hands move, how he’s playing nice with the other High Lord right now, he might just be. Because Eris is the one–

I can be anywhere, be anything you want me to be, he purrs, power licking up your spine as you arch off of the bed. I can have you thinking that he is me, he continues darkly, and you know Eris is the one licking through your folds like a starved alpha, but when your head is forced up on Rhysand’s whim, it’s his face you see buried between your legs.

Off, you beg, pulling at his collar again. But perhaps your mind is so muddled with lust that he’s the one slurping at your cunt. Maybe it’s Eris who looms above you fully clothed…

A strangled cry spills from your mouth as the tongue licking at your clit burns. Your head clears and your gut coils at the sensation and it’s definitely Eris that’s down there, branding his mouth to your cunt.

Rhys slips out of his shirt but you hardly notice because you’re careening over the edge into a deliciously warm orgasm, gushing on Eris face as he holds your thighs open so he can continue flicking his tongue fervently. You drag his abandoned shirt to your nose, inhaling the roguish scent of him as you cum and Mother above if it doesn’t want to make the alpha fucking bond you right then.

But the orgasm hasn’t sated the heat that's burning through your body, the reprieve only lasts a moment before it hits you twice as hard.

You need one of their knots, and you don’t care which one gives it to you.

Rhysand steps around to the end of the bed, eyes pinned on the way Eris’ head is still buried deep in your snatch. He growls, getting a fistful of his copper locks and he rips the lordling away from your throbbing cunt. You let out a whimper so loud that it nearly makes him submit to you, but he cranes Eris’ neck backwards to admire the red of his swollen lips and your slick glistening across his cheeks.

You scramble to your elbows to see what’s happening and are entranced at the two alphas glaring at each other. Your heart and pussy throb in time with each other.

They must be having some sort of mental chat because Eris has a wicked gleam in his eye as he licks the remnants of your slick from his lips, making a show of it. Rhysand’s lip curls into a snarl and he jerks the Autumn alpha back, his neck straining at the unnatural angle as his unoccupied hand reaches for his belt, flicking the buckle open with ease.

Your hand snakes to your clit and you desperately need one of them but you’ll force your body to wait to be able to watch them like this.

“Finish it,” Rhys growls down at the alpha on his knees so that you can hear. Eris doesn’t like it, wants to send his flames licking up the Night Court King’s arm, but the look in those violet eyes makes it known that his darkness will only smother him to smoke. He reluctantly starts moving when you whine and Rhys cranes his neck further when he tries to look at you, undoing his leathers and pulling them down the strong columns of his thighs.

The High Lords prick bobs, head pink and shining with precum, and Eris’ throat works to swallow.

You think the male might take it into his mouth, and you know Rhysand would enjoy it too, because the fireling sure knows how to use that wicked mouth of his, but the alpha towering over him leans down, pompous and arrogant as ever, and kisses him.

It’s hot and heavy, the tension in the room thickening as the two alphas grapple for dominance. They’re all wide shoulders and primal growls, licking into each other's mouths like warriors meeting on the battlefield. Eris shoves his way to his feet without breaking the bruising kiss, and their bodies mold together in a striking image of chalk and bronze.

Your gasping breaths tear them apart, fingers fisting and manhandling each other in brutal lust. You’re working yourself through a second orgasm, just the sight of them aiding your heat, the need for them almost unbearable. You’re a shaking, sweating mess, but beautiful nonetheless as they stare down at you writhing on the bed.

Eris is the first to slip away and Rhys curses, following the heir but he’s too late because Eris is consoling you with a gentle kiss as he presses his cock into your needy cunt with a groan. He presses all of the air from your lungs, stifling you in the best way. His body is warm, cock hot as he pistons his hips in and out and in again.

His name is a prayer on your lips as he works, his hands everywhere, sending flickers of flames up your body every time he pulls out. He loves it, wants to hear you saying his name for the rest of forever, and he holds back a bark of ownership, body shaking with the effort it takes to keep himself from biting into the exposed skin of your neck.

Rhys climbs onto the bed again, watching with keen eyes how the lithe body of Eris Vanserra drags you to your edge. He’s muscled in all of the right places, ass flexing as he pumps into you, giving you everything your body so desperately craves.

The High Lord can tell that the other alphas knot is forming, from the sounds that he makes and the look in his eyes, the barring of his teeth and the offering of his own throat as your nails leave pink scratches down his back as you cum on his cock, so close to having what you want.

But the heir freezes and you scream, tears leaking from your eyes as you’re overcome with blistering heat – no longer Eris’ doing – and the fact that his knot is no longer growing inside of you, trying to lock the both of you together.

Rhysand is a greedy bastard and even though he’s in the home of the Autumn heir, he will never be second.

Eris’ chest heaves against yours but he can’t move, couldn’t if he wanted to, and damn the Cauldron does he want to. Fear slithers through his veins like the darkness in his mind before his fiery anger tries to flush the High Lord of the Night Court from his mind. He can only blame himself, letting the brick walls in his head crumble for you, an offering to let you into his mind as part of the bonding.

Get the fuck out of my head, he spits at the other alpha, who’s smirking down at him with lethal intent.

Are you sure you’re an alpha? Rhys teases, using his powers to tug the coiled male from your body. His limbs are locked, clutching to you like a vice as you squirm beneath him, chasing the knot that’s not expanding. You should be able to push me out.

Your words make no sense, coming out in high pitched noises and cries. Your body is burning, your bones hurt with the aching need for a knot, for their seed to spill into your womb like it's the only thing you need to live.

I’ll fucking kill you, Eris threatens as Rhys forces him away from you. He’s like a puppet, and he hates every second of his betraying limbs as he slides away. He’s frozen, on the edge of his knot growing and it will be painful the longer he holds it but Rhys is cradling you to his chest and playing every part of the hero he wishes he could be, soothing you and letting you clutch to him as he settles between your thighs.

He’s forced to watch the smirk Rhys tosses his way, paired with a wink that lets him know he won’t be moving unless he forces that alpha out, before the High Lord softens, turning to you and silencing your whimpers with a stroke of his tongue.

Rhys wastes no time, bucking into your slick cunt with ease. He shudders as you tighten around him, a whispered moan of his name crosses your lips like it’s your last breath and he can hardly take it, pistoning his hips faster for every sound that you make.

Your legs clamp around his waist and your hand falls away from the deep planes of his back, seeking out the other alpha who you can feel roiling on the other side of the bed. Your fingers find his hair, giving a light tug, showing him that you want him nearer, and it’s all Eris needs to break the chains of his mind with a growl so domineering it makes your cunt clamp and Rhysand’s knot form as he lies claim to your thrashing body.

“Yes, yes, please,” you gasp desperately, the feeling of his hot seed spurting into you, filling you up is everything. He’s so big, his cock expanding inside of you and trapping his cum there. Your mind spins with it and you let yourself go pliant when you’re sure that the alphas won’t kill each other over you.

Eris finds you, laying claim to your mouth as you slip into the blissful sensations of your omegaspace, feeling full and protected by the two alphas you’ve brought to bed. Later, you’ll need to knot again, and your heat will last for days on end, but with the both of them here you know you’ll be more than satiated.

The copper haired alpha murmurs into your ear but you’re too relaxed to make out his soft words but your hand tightens around his at the mention of him knotting you later.

“I’m going to give you everything you need, fawn,” he brushes the damp hair from your forehead as Rhysand strokes your cheek. He may not have daemati powers like the alpha Night Lord, and he loathes that the smug male can hear his vulnerable admissions, but he needs you to hear them. “Just give it a little time.”

“You know,” Rhysand croons when you doze off. He gently rolls the both of you so you’re more comfortable, lying on his chest. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck while you sleep, reveling in the scent of the alpha that’s giving you everything you need. His fingers stroke down the length of your spine and he nearly preens when you melt against him. His gaze shifts to the Autumn royal. “I could make you stop again.”

Eris' eyes blaze and his teeth flash in warning but Rhysand stops his speech before he can argue.

In your head, asshole, the Night Court native warns and the other alpha glares.

Not all of us have fancy mind-speaking skills, his voice is rough with flames.

Another reason that she belongs in the Night Court with me.

Copper eyes slash to his and Rhys can see the fury rippling from the alpha beside him. Eris knows that he can’t react how he wants to, to rip Rhysand off of you and steal you away. He makes a show of taking a calming breath, but when he lets his eyes trail down your sleeping form does he truly relax.

I want her, he says.

Me too, Rhysand counters, his grip on your tightening as another wave of his cum releases into you. Only a single thought of you had triggered his ruts before, sealing himself away in the hidden cabin in the mountains because he wouldn’t be able to stop the beast inside of him if you had been nearby.

And you don’t know Eris, not truly anyway. You’d met him in passing, at meetings where he’d done nothing but snark by his father’s side, but you’d always known that there was more to them in that burnt caramel gaze.

She wants the both of us, Rhysand continues, but Eris’ temper is still hot.

Me too, he blurts, and the entire room plunges into stillness.

Rhysand’s body goes stiff at the admission but you let out a pleased sigh like you’re agreeing with Eris. You want the both of them, and his accidental admission says he’s willing to share you, to share himself with the both of you, if Rhysand should want it.

Violet eyes rake across heated cheeks and red lips that part in nervousness, Eris’ tongue flicking out to wet them. He’s devastatingly handsome like most High Fae, but there’s an aura to him that makes something in the Night Court alphas gut churn.

But when he tries to catch the other alphas' gaze Eris won’t look his way. He’s busying himself by playing with your hair, fluffing the mass amounts of pillows on his bed, and gathering drinks and snacks from a nearby closet stocked specifically for this. You’ll need to keep your energy up and both alphas will have to coax you to eat, even though all you’ll want for the next few days is to fuck.

Eris, Rhysand calls and the lordling stops. He takes the moment to stare, eyes dragging down his pale skin from where his copper hair curls at the nape of his neck to his tapered waist and down. He knows that he’s hung, even if he couldn’t see the head of his cock between his legs from the way he’s standing stock still across the room, he’s seen it as it plunged into your body at a pace that made his cock bob.

Slowly, the Autumn alpha looks over his shoulder, heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Rhysand waves him closer, he’s already too far away from the both of you, if the whimper that Rhysand wants to mimic slips from your slips.

She’ll need you soon, Rhys says. He can feel the way that your body is already heating up, how his knot has started to deflate. We’ll need you soon.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

You wake to soft voices and even softer kisses. You’re sweating, body hot as you’re pinned between two muscular bodies, the alphas you’d begged to knot you.

Craning your head upwards you catch the sight of Rhysand and Eris, lips locked in a much sweeter kiss than the one they’d shared earlier.

They look glorious, tongues lapping lazily as limbs brush across each other and yours in between. You don’t know what’s happened while you were asleep but it’s nice that they’re finally getting along.

You watch for as long as your body will allow. You know that they both know that you’re awake, but you’re not sure if their kissing is a reaction to your pheromones driving their alpha senses while they waited for you to wake or their own doing, but Mother is it a sight to see.

Eris’ hand strokes up Rhys’ cock softly, twisting firmer as he reaches the head and runs a thumb over his slit. The High Lord’s breath shatters, body vibrating beneath the fiery grip of the Autumn male.

You moan softly, hands slipping down your body to relieve yourself but Rhys’ hand is catching yours and dragging it to his cock with Eris’.

“Both of you,” he pants, voice raspy with need. Your cunt gushes at the vulnerability in his voice, the soft way he’s commanding your motions. “Eris will take care of you, darling.”

“Yes, fawn,” the lordling breathes, rolling so he’s flush to your back. You’re manhandled onto your side and receive no warning as Eris shoves into you with a keen of his own, filling you to the brim with his throbbing cock.

Neither of you has to worry about being stopped by the High Lord of Night.

He aides your sex, slipping into the both of your minds and sharing images of the both of you together, feelings of each other and how your hands feel around his weeping cock, how tight and hot you are clenching around Eris’ cock, sharing how full you feel with him so far deep inside of you.

None of you last very long.

You cry out at an image created of Rhysands imagination; you pressed between the two of them as they both drive into you, sharing you like you never knew you needed. You bare your throat to both of them, begging the alphas to bite into the flesh of your neck, to mate and bond and love you forever.

And they do, sharing a look with each other that says they’ll figure out all of the details later, but for now, and the next few days, they have you, and they have each other. They solidify the bond in the soft bed of Briarhome, and let you mark their necks the same way in the throes of your heat, the Mother allowing your souls to forge together like the deadliest weapon.

And with both High Lords by your side, you know you will be.

#rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar #acomaf #azsazz #acowar #rhysand #a/b/o #acotar a/b/o #eris x reader #rhysand x eris x reader #eris

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bellalaufeyson69 · 1 year

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Peter Quill x Reader

Enemies to lovers (sort of)

Breakfast

(Spoiler if reading this next sentence! Takes place after GOTG and before GOTG3. Gamora is with the Ravagers and is no longer with Peter in any way. Also meaning that as confirmed by James Gunn, we the reader can understand what Groot says because we’ve been with him so long 🥹)

Description: Quill and Yn hardly ever get along and it’s gotten on everyone’s nerves. Nebula comes up with a solution to the problem by making them spend time together in hopes of working out the differences.

Wc ♡ 3.5k

Masterlist ♡

————

Rays of sunlight burst through the wide front windows of the Milano as the team sat around the table waiting for Groot to finish the breakfast. We all took a straw from a hat daily to see who had the duty, though when any one of us pulled the straw and saw it said groot, we’d discretely pretended it said someone else’s name. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust him to be a good cook, it was just that he can get a little… distracted.

“What day is it today?” The tree pondered, looking over to Mantis awaiting an answer all the while completely unaware that a twig from his arm has now caught fire from the stove.

I was quick to catch this and jumped from my spot to put it out, though as I ran to help him I came crashing into a tall, decently sweaty Peter. “Common Quill!” I hissed before turning back to Groot only to be halted by his annoying voice.

“Oh like that was my fault,” he complained throwing his hands in the air and looking to the team for reassurance yet getting none as they tended to zone Peter and I’s arguments out.

“Maybe if you payed any attention to anything you ever do!” I snapped turning back to face him feeling a rise of irritation come over me causing me to completely forget why I’d even got up in the first place. “Also, you’re disgusting. We have showers for a reason, you literally soaked my arm in your nasty sweat,” I made a disturbed expression whilst wiping the warm wet liquid onto my pants.

He scoffed with an eye roll while taking a glance at the ceiling. “Im sorry if I get a little sweaty when I work out, it’s natural, and I was going to take a shower, not that it’s any of your business; after we ate breakfast.”

“How convenient, so we can all join together and eat while inhaling your B.O.”

“Oh would you two please just shut up! I’m sick of all the incessant bickering you make me want to rip my ears off,” Nebula intruded from beside Groot. She and Rocket had been busy helping Groot put out the small flame that Peter and I had long forgotten about. “You’ve been irritating because Gamora’s gone, and you’ve been a living-breathing brat ever since you failed the last mission,” she called out our behavior almost in a motherly way. She’s been weirdly diplomatic when dealing with us instead of just telling us to go yell at each other somewhere else.

With a huff I went back to my seat and sank in the chair feeling a tinge of embarrassment overwhelm me at the memory of that last mission. I had never failed before, and this time put everyone at danger because I couldn’t control my emotions and attacked a guard too soon. I got a lecture about it from pretty much everyone except Mantis and Groot. That experience definitely hurt my pride quite a lot, so sometimes I might have a little extra sass to try and build it back up. “At least mines a real reason to be acting like a jerk,” Peter mumbled while sitting down in the seat farthest from me.

I snickered to myself at his comment. Sometimes he can be a real idiot. “You realize you called yourself a jerk too right? Nice one Einstein.” I clapped back not willing to let him win this argument, or really any in the future. Peter Quill just always has to be the leader, the cool guy, always right. Not when it comes to me.

“That’s it!” Nebula shouted in pure aggravation. She stomped over to the both of us and grabbed one of our arms with a decent strength considering she’s part bot. “You two are on breakfast duty, and if I hear you argue once while doing it then you’re both gonna be stuck cleaning the engine for two months,” she snapped, shoving us both toward the fridge. We often all had chores to do but we made it fun by having a spin wheel to see who has to do what. Cleaning the engine was always the worst one, but what made it easier was knowing you only had to do it once and then you could spin the wheel next chore week.

“Who said you were in charge? I think you’re forgetting this is MY ship,” Peter defended while crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” I added confidently. Who the heck is Nebula to tell us what to do.

“Nah I agree with that. You two are the most annoying a-holes I’ve ever had to share a space with. Mantis and Drax don’t even argue as much as you do,” Rocket chimed in matter of factly.

“It is true! I would much rather sit and listen to Mantis’s pathetic stories than hear you two fight anymore,” Drax said as he stood tall and serious.

Mantis glanced over to him with a bubbly smile. “Awhh thank you!”

“You are welcome idiot,” Drax replied with a pleasant smile. In his mind he was being respectful, and Mantis didn’t know any better.

Nebula turned her head back to us with an expression as of saying ‘that’s what I thought’. “So it’s settled. You two are gonna work this stupid stuff out, and if we hear so much as a bad tone, then you get stuck with Engine duty,”

We’d both surfaced a similar response between grumbles and eye rolls, yet had no choice but to accept our fate. Majority rules is how this ship functions, which was a feature I loved when it was in regard to someone else. Soon the rest of the group piled out, rocket on his way out mumbled on about how we’d better be quick. I gave a short glance to Peter which was a mistake as he’d so very annoyingly been standing there sifting through songs his Walkman and earbuds. Of course he’d tune me out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just stood here the whole time too.

I started gathering some of ingredients and pans we’d need, already feeling angry at the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to move to help me. This was a clear indicator that my assumption of his laziness was likely going to be right. I semi aggressively dropped down the container of bacon onto the counter letting my current mood take the control of my motion. I grabbed the unused pan and placed it down and began putting strips of bacon on it. “You’re doing that wrong,” Peter softly mentioned. He seemed tired, I wasn’t sure if it was tired of the arguing or just in general but the tone definitely helped ease my anger a little bit.

With a huff I turned to look over at him and was surprised to find him standing so close, hovering just inches from my frame looking down at the pan, then making eye contact with me. His expression was blank, and calm which confused me. “I’m putting the strips out, how else am I supposed to do it?” I felt my brow still furrowed down in the looming frustration I felt before. We always fight, and one of us always takes it too far, those are times that make it hard to ever not be annoyed at the man’s presence.

He took an earbud out and let it hang by the cord before stepping closer until his body was pressed against my side. I stayed long enough to feel his warmth until I realize the normal thing to do would be to step out of his way, so that I did. Part of me wished he’d do it again, that he’d give me an excuse to accept his embrace. If I hate him so much why did that little ounce of intimacy feel so nice? A confusing mix of emotions. “You don’t put them all at once only do half so they cook more evenly,” he explained whilst taking off some of the already placed bacon. “Also put them folded like this so that- F*CK! AGH!” He’d instantly jumped back from the grizzling pan holding his hand in pain. “Stupid grease, ow!” He complained to the pan as if it were alive which made me laugh quite a lot. The whole scene was funny really.

I hadn’t noticed that through my laughing he’d been looking at me smiling ever so slightly, until I caught him, in which he looked back at the pan. “Are you alright there captain?” I amusingly teased his super strong title, while instinctively placing a caring hand on his shoulder with a soft rub. The moment I placed it I felt the mortified realization of my actions and ripped my hand back off. Too embarrassed to comment on it I’d redirected my focus to making eggs in the other pan hoping he wouldn’t mention it.

I cooked in silence for a little while until I felt as if I was being watched. Hesitantly I turned my gaze to Peter and surely enough was met with him staring right back at me. He looked to be deep in thought until I caught him when his lips curled into an arrogant grin. “Oh no no no, are you kidding me? You’re tellin’ me you can’t even cook eggs either? What can you do?” He provoked in amusement making me roll my eyes.

I waved my hands in the air in defeat. “Fine! You do it yourself then.” I stepped aside from the counter and began to walk away until I felt a warm hand take a light grip on my forearm and pull me backward. I stumbled back to my position in front of the pan where Peter was beside me holding my arm.

“Relax,” he soothed while slowly inching closer, it almost seemed like he was hoping his movements were slow enough for me not to notice. “You’re not gonna get any better with that attitude,” he continued, his hands slowly brushing my hips while I was too distracted listening to what he was saying. He moved cautiously almost trying to catch me in the distraction. “So much attitude all the time,”

I scoffed at his comment. “Attitude? I don’t have attitude, you’re the one who’s always moping around making little comments at everything.” his fingers now wrapped around my waist as he stood behind me, his breath tickling my shoulder.

“Let me show you,” he furthered, completely ignoring what I’d said and going on with his own point.

I’d attempted at pushing his hands off me. “No, I don’t need your help Peter,”

He stood there his grip strong as he looked down at me with a little ‘huh’. After the death glare I’d given he kindly explained the cause of the sound. “You called me Peter,” he pointed out with a grin.

I felt taken off guard at that comment and honestly a little flustered. I always made it a point to call him by his last name, I felt that first names were for people I respected. Why did that slip so easily? “I was just distracted…” I trailed avoiding his gaze and looking back to the pan. “Are we gonna cook the eggs or not?” I redirected the conversation away from the tension as I didn’t know how to react. My heart fluttered at his proximity but my mind reminds me of our dynamic. We’ve never got along let alone been close in this way.

He took my cue to move on and eagerly grabbed the spatula, handed it to me then paused and hesitantly slipped his hand on the back of my own. His other hand rested on my waist still as he guided the cooking. “It’s all about the wrist” he spoke softly.

I let out a breathe as I stood stiffly. I wasn’t sure what to do with this but I didn’t hate it. In fact it was quite the opposite. “This isn’t going to help you get over Gamora,” I bluntly stated without really thinking about it. I didn’t intend on being rude and my tone pushed that. Truth is that must’ve been an insecurity festered up. He’s a flirt and I can’t be his distraction.

He was silent for a moment but his position didn’t budge. “Why are you always so quick to push me away?” He quietly asked sincerely. He seemed hurt which was the last thing I expected from him. Was I reading our dynamic wrong? I couldn’t have been I mean we fight constantly.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t.” He interrupted. “Be real with me, just this one time,” he took the spatula from my hand and placed it on the table before grabbing the hand back again and bringing it to my waist to hold there. “What can I do to fix you and me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that whatsoever because I didn’t know what that meant. You and me. As in no more arguing? As in becoming friends? As in something more? It doesn’t help that Peter is known for his flirting. “I-“ I sighed. “What do you mean?” I felt myself submitting to his touch as my body relaxed against his.

“Last weekend, we’re sitting on the couch. My arm was up around the top of it and if I moved it down just a little bit it would’ve literally been around your shoulder. Everything’s fine we’re all watching a movie, and I make a bad joke about your favorite character because I think it’s cute when you’re mad and you storm off cursing at me.” I couldn’t see the point he was pushing for but found myself blushing at the compliment. “Can’t you tell I do those things to get close to you? We don’t talk what so ever and the most I get from you is if I pull it out of you by making a dumb comment,” he explained his head now stooped closer to my shoulder, resting slightly against the side of my face and neck. “I know I can be childish, or a jerk but I don’t know what else to do when all I want to do is talk to you,”

“Oh really?” I perked up a little bit ready to make my point taking a step away from Peter. “What about the time we were here drinking and you made a comment about how I was ‘acting different to impress people’? How romantic,” I poked feeling his logic start to crumble.

He let out a huff. “You’re not remembering that the way I am and yeah I shouldn’t have said that but you spent the entire night all over that xandarian guy,” he expressed stepping forward to grab my hand and pull me back in. “You know how much I wanted to punch that dude straight in the jaw every time he touched you? Why should he get to kiss you?” He seemed to be getting offended just remembering the night, and honestly a little heated.

“Peter,” I softly tried to intercept.

“No, I’ve been here this entire time. For years it’s been me here with you, we go on missions, we’ve explored new planets, had ups and downs, and I have to sit there and watch some guy kiss you? Some guy who just came along that same day, put no effort into his relationship with you and got you,” he rambled on with pain in his eyes. I hadn’t seen him show that much emotion over someone since gamora. “It’s not fair,”

I felt horrible for not seeing this sooner. I couldn’t help but rethink everything but at the same time he definitely went about this in the wrong way to get my attention. He got it alright but it was never good. To me he was just constantly nitpicking me and all the things I liked and it drove me crazy. I guess that’s the fault in miscommunication. A lot of the stuff was pretty dumb to get genuinely mad at, often he’d just tease my favorite movies or comment on my fighting skills. Nonetheless in this moment I felt truly sad for him. “I didn’t know…” he was focused very intently on every word I said and I could just tell the anticipation anxiety was eating him up. In reality this was a confession of his feelings. “If I would’ve known…” I trialed off not wanting to press further as I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.

“If you would’ve known then what?” He softly nudged me to continue. He took our interlocked hands and held it on his chest.

“I don’t know, things would’ve been different. I didn’t know that’s how you felt I just thought you hated me honestly,” I admitted awkwardly.

He exhaled with a frown. “I could never hate you, and that mission…“ he got softer watching my expression because he knew this topic was sore for me. “It didn’t matter to me that we failed, all I could think about was how I could’ve lost you,” he admitted keeping eye contact as he spoke. “I can’t lose anyone else, and I just miss what we used to be like.”

This confused me as what he’s referencing is our friendship back when he was with Gamora. Is he trying to say he wants to be friends or is he being romantic? He’s so hard to read sometimes, but his actions are telling me romance. Clearly he could see the confusion etched on my face because he clarified all my questions without ever having to hear them. “You know, how close we were. Cracking jokes, playing pranks on the rest of them,” he explained. “I want that. But… something a little different…” he seemed a little more awkward now like he didn’t know how to word what he felt.

“How different?” I asked feeling my heart pick up just a little bit. Perhaps MAYBE the reason I got so mad at everything Peter did was because MAYBE I valued his opinion, because MAYBE I was sort of always secretly into him.

He perked up at the question surprised I hadn’t shot it down right then and there. “Well,” he started while taking my hand and giving me a dramatic twirl. The guy is smooth. “Maybe a little romance, I’m thinking Jim and Pam,” he referenced my favorite Earth show as I’ve forced him to watch it after our trip there.

A mischievous smile found my lips at that. “Ohhhh, so someone was lying about not liking the show?” I teased in a ‘I told you so’ kinda way.

He chuckled at my call out. “I told ya Y/N, I just love to mess with you.”

“Hmm, fine but you have to watch rom coms with me,” I laid out my terms matter of factly.

His eyes widened. “Fine? Fine what? Fine to the romance?” He double checked as I hadn’t made myself all that clear.

“I GUESS,” I dramatically excepted in a fake disinterested tone.

“Well then Mrs. Y/N” he pulled me into him yet again wrapping his arms around my torso, though this time I let my hands rest on his chest. “I’m gonna romance the shit outta you,” he grinned that same cocky little grin that used to make me wanna smack him.

I rolled my eyes at his over confidence but was thrown off at him leaning in closer to me. I couldn’t find anything sassy or witty to remark because now all my focus was on the fact that Peter Quill’s lips were so close to mine. The lips of always secretly wanted to kiss. I let out a breath feeling the tension before he’d made the move to fully go in. He kissed me softly, and slowly. His hand cupped my cheek and when he pulled away he gave a real genuine smile.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me” rocket yelled out from the doorway next to a very shocked Nebula.

“I give them a week tops,” she jokingly murmured but I could tell she was genuinely happy for us.

Rocket groaned from his place clearly fed up with the fact that he’d suffered through our bickering just for us to end up into each other. “If I’d known all you two jackasses needed to do was bang it out- WHY ARE THE EGGS BLACK?” He ran over to the stove to turn off the switch as if that would save the already far gone breakfast. “that’s TWO breakfasts down the drain, that’s it! I’m done! We’re getting fast food from knowhere,” he flailed his hands in the air and walked out of the room in defeat making the rest of us chuckle.

“I’m glad you two figured it out finally,” Nebula gave a small smile. “Really thought you were blind,” she dryly joked.

Peter and I looked at each other in confusion for a moment before smiling and accepting the fact that apparently we’d been obvious about our unknown feelings. With that she left the room to follow Rocket to the controls of the ship to fly us all to knowhere. This left Peter and I alone once more, he stared down at me in amusement. “I knew you were into me.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes for the millionth time, slipped my fingers into his and dragged him out to the main area of the ship preparing for the rest of the teams reactions.

—————

My first Peter Quill fan fic! Sorta rushed so I apologize for any errors! Let me know if I should make more!

#peter quill #enemies to lovers #peter quill x reader #gotg fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x yn #starlord #starlord x reader #starlord fanfic #the guardians of the galaxy

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chouettecrivaine · 2 months

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Love's the Only Medicine [Honkai: Star Rail]

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Characters: Dr. Ratio

Notes: SO. First off, those of you waiting on Lyney fic, it is postponed for now because I'm stuck :( but for now I'm working on a Dr. Ratio fic and I'm having a little trouble so these are my headcanons for how a good/healthy relationship with him would actually work because I love to write fluff all the time <3

So, how does one go about romancing the Dr. Veritas Ratio?

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have independence. Dr. Ratio is a busy man, and while he'd of course value your relationship (why else would he be in a relationship in the first place?), he wouldn't fare well with someone who is the clingy type. A relationship that would work best for him is one where you share in each other's missions, victories, and defeats as best as you can without melding your lives into one singular identity. With the exception of certain instances where you worked with him prior to the relationship starting/getting serious (though even then, he might drop the idea of separating your work paths a little bit to ensure there is no space for rational, scientific endeavors to be tangled with personal emotions), Dr. Ratio is perfectly content to with a relationship where some aspects of your lives don't always cross. Of course he wants to spend time with you! He just appreciates his own ability to act independently and keep work and personal matters separate. (Plus I feel like he'd find independence kinda attractive anyway :P)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Keep him grounded. Dr. Ratio gets lost in his thoughts frequently. He understands that facts and calculations can only go so far in the real world (though they could go MUCH FURTHER in his opinion, hence his cosmic mission to eradicate foolishness) but he loves finding the rational, mathematical answer to things. It'll be up to you to navigate a little bit more expertly on this plane. If he's trying to piece together a solution to a planet's hunger crisis, well, maybe let him sort through his lofty thoughts then. But if he's simply ignoring the world and thinking for the sake of it, you'll be able to get away with poking him out of the stupor and getting him to actually communicate with the world around him.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Be the people person, but don't apologize for him. Veritas has a tendency to rub people the wrong way. He's rude, abrasive, and arrogant. When others say such things without realizing you're nearby, you AGREE with them. But these are all things he knows, too. In most cases, how the reception of information makes somebody feel doesn't particularly concern him. But sometimes, especially now that he's actively placing himself in the social situation of being in a relationship, talking with people in a constructive way is necessary. He's fine with defaulting to you in these instances if it makes you feel useful. However, it is simply a matter of leaving a task to the one who knows better. If you start apologizing for his silence or a prior brash attitude, though, then he gets a little prickly. He stands by his behavior! Don't make him out to be someone you should have to apologize for or ashamed of.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have clear communication skills. Listen. Veritas is an eloquent speaker, and he says exactly what he means to. However...good communication is more than just saying words that mean exactly what you want them to. You have to present information in a way that others can receive, and that's where he falls flat. The onus will fall to you to exemplify that sort of skill. Now, you don't have to teach him step-by-step how to talk nicely, but being able to do so yourself and give him a gentle nudge when it really matters will go a long way in ensuring you're talking to each other and not at each other.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Argue with him. Like, not actually. Argue with him academically. Veritas has stated that he feels incorrect on a matter if people agree with him. So don't agree with him! Don't spark debate just for the sake of it, but you shouldn't be afraid to voice your opinion when it goes against his. Dissent is the forebear of accuracy, after all. He won't be gentle with his arguments, but he never means to condescending when you're sharing your scholarly ideas. (Plus, this will help you get accustomed to when he is actually trying to argue you in a less casual context)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅His love language? Quality time. Wanted all across the galaxy to solve this crisis or that, Dr. Ratio is a busy, busy man. So when you come in at the top of his list of priorities, that's how you know he's in deep. If you receive a certain love language particularly well, he can adapt! But his default is both to give and receive quality time. Even just time together that isn't attentive and specifically for each other can mean a lot to him. If you're both busy with work, he can be placated by attending to your duties but staying in the same room as each other. Don't worry about distracting him, either - as of late, he finds himself distracted when you aren't around, and at ease when you are.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Have a hunger for knowledge. It can be intimidating to hear him denounce all fools of the universe when he doesn't give many specific answers as to what a fool is. Veritas doesn't care about a lack of knowledge; what he cares about is a lack of awareness and a lack of trying. He'd be a fool himself if he pretended as though everyone had the same access to the same level of education, or that there weren't people who gravitated towards certain skills. After all, he's widely regarded as a genius, but you don't exactly see him releasing academic journals on any musical studies, do you? (Now, could he write one? Probably. But that's not the point.) As tough of a teacher as he is, what he's after is undying tenacity; that you never falter in the face of obstacles, and that you never place your scholarship on a shelf so high it winds up collecting dust, unused. If you don't know something, that's fine - go figure it out! Don't just say 'I don't know' and leave the matter at that. Learning through experience is an incredibly strong way of gathering knowledge. Just...don't expect him to be any nicer about your lack of prior knowledge just because you are close to him or you are trying to remedy that. At the end of the day, you did fall in love with a guy who's just kind of an ass sometimes :/

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Be honest. This is one that could go for anybody in any relationship, but it is a top priority for Dr. Ratio. He's based his entire life on searching and spreading absolute truth in every corner of the cosmos. Normally, this takes the form of objective, empirically provable fact. But he finds it frustrating if you won't be honest about your feelings or what you want, how is he to know what to do? You'll have him acting like a fool with your refusal to face your own truth! (This is, of course, a roundabout way of saying that he doesn't have it in him to be playing games. Be straightforward with him, please. It'll be much easier for the both of you that way.)

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Don't be afraid to get a little poetic on him. Veritas is a scientific man. He understands artistic endeavors, of course, but that isn't how his brain is wired. He operates in verifiable conclusions and building hypotheses, not the more abstract patterns of intuition or leading by the heart. He can analyze and understand such things, but if you want him to be able to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the world, you will probably have to lead by example. You won't change his way of thinking, but maybe if you see a rare bird one day, he'll appreciate the opportunity to see something so rare and beautiful instead of analyzing how far it has deviated from its normal breeding grounds.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Flirting is a game, but love isn't. Don't be so dull with him! Dr. Ratio would love an opportunity to subtly ash his wits about yours in a little flirtatious back-and-forth. Both in the early stages and a more established relationship, Dr. Ratio loves a good challenge and could spend all night just trying to out-flirt the other. Regardless of whether or not you're one to get flustered, he loves your reactions anyway. Sheepishness, frustration, no emotion whatsoever - whatever you feel,, he finds how you try to school your expressions into complete apathy amusing. He is hard to fluster himself, but if he continues the same line of teasing in the morning the next day, you can assume he's been thinking about you all night. However! Dr. Ratio often expects people, especially those precious few who he respects, to operate on his level. If he's truly buckling down for the long game, he'll make sure to make his feelings clear. Flirtation is always on the table, but "playing hard to get" or trying to "keep him guessing" as you near a truly established relationship is a turn off. Flirt for fun, not to manipulate his interest in you. Believe him, he would've left by now if he wanted to.

∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Look beyond his scientific approach to matters of the heart. In loving anybody, you'll have to learn how to read between certain lines. Even if you are a pure-blooded emotionally charged person, Veritas can only meet you halfway on the road to compromise. Take the time to study how he speaks and what he means- concise as he is, speaking so straightforwardly all the time often has an opposite affect on his words when he's trying to be romantic. Learn the ways he looks after you and tries to make your life easier without asking; notice how he spends a large portion of his available time with you, even if it means dragging you along to discussing things with people who he feels are completely beneath his IQ; realize that his tone may always be steadfast and dominating, but he never speaks out to shut you down or demean you the way he does to others. If you can translate all the little ways he uses to show you how much he values you, then you may just find yourself in a relationship far more enriching than you'd expect.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #☆ star rail #☆ dr ratio #🐚 capricorn ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{hcs}#🌠 pisces ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{all writing}#a note that didn't make the cut: HUMBLE HIM #i was going through some of his lines in the stars of ingenuity quest and #boy what is your PROBLEM #antagonizing the trailblazer just because you're a suspicious little freak #decided their vibes were bad based on nothing but ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE #i'm so serious. what is your deal. i'll kiss it out of you boy don't think i wont

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blughxreader · 9 months

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Damn, the "re-connection session" one-shot was an extremely heavy read in a way I never expected. I’m fully aware that your requests are closed but just wanted to ask; how would Dick and Jason deal with a traumatised omega reader? Someone who gave in to the hormones but once the effect blew over the weight of what happened set in and hit them like a truck, as they re-lived metres of being undressed and touched without their consent, which mimicked a borderline assault?

I'm blown away by the response for this fic omg <3 Thank u to everyone who left comments like this lol. "HORRID. SICK TO MY STOMACH. WILL TATTOO ON MY BODY." yall are the best

As for your questions...

We're all aware of normal trauma responses (mental breakdowns, you could throw up at the smell of Alfred's soup, blocking the memory entirely, throwing yourself into distractions), but ABO has a primal element...

Y'know how women who give birth release this brain chemical that makes them love their baby so it overrides the terror of pregnancy??

Yeah. Maybe finally joining the pack physically/emotionally releases that same chemical.

You're not a slave to your body, but it definitely takes the edge off of a horrific incident. I think you'd 1000% remember it forever and have some level of bitterness and ick about it, but sometimes it's easier to accept things you can't change.

From everyone's perspective, why should you harbor so much hatred when an easy life of love and safety is at your fingertips if you'd just forget a little incident?

It's up to the you tho.

Dick fully stands by his decision unless you try to like, kill yourself. He's used to making hard decisions, and while he'd upset at the circumstances, he feels it was the last solution. Everything else failed, so how we do things the uncomfortable way.

Jason will always feel shitty about it. He's a romantic, and the fact that your entrance into the pack was by force will forever sit heavy on him. If Dick's confidence had faltered even a little during that one-shot, then Jason would have called it off immediately.

Life would carry on normally, save for everyone watching you for any behavioral changes. Dick and Jason would accept your furious anger / sadness with understanding remorse, then would comfort you in their own ways.

Movie night? Your favorite food? Want to sit with Alfred and I in the library? Hey, maybe we can convince Bruce to let us all go to his beach house for a weekend?

And if you stop reacting all together, then they'd take the indication to cozy on up to you again. Fight back and show some emotion, orrrr sit with one of their arm's over your shoulder and let the hormones do their job.

You'll run out of fight eventually, then Bruce will start working on your trauma. At that point, the pack's already got a hold on you mentally so you begrudge them some leeway.

Small privileges here and there (sitting with your thighs touching, holding someone's hand, sleeping in the same bed), until it becomes a slippery addiction.

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere dc #yandere abo #abo yandere #batfam abo

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toournextadventure · 6 months

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everyone but her pt.36

Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”

“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”

If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.

Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year. Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.

“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”

Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?

“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”

Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.

A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.

Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.

“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee. “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”

She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.

“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”

“A bit,” you said with a nod.

It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.

Except.

“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.

The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.

It was the murder.

If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.

Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.

There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.

You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.

“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.

Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.

“I need to,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.

Now that was worth coming back to the present for.

—---

“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.

“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”

“Then be more specific next time,” she said.

You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!

Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.

“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.

“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.

Well. Except for Enid.

“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”

“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.

“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.

Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.

“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.

“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.

“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.

Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.

It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.

The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”

She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.

As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.

It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.

It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.

You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.

Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.

“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.

Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.

“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.

You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.

“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.

“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.

“Can I still come?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.

“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.

“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.

“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”

“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.

You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.

“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”

“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.

“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.

“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”

Divina laughed.

“Enid, help me out here.”

“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.

And by god did you fall just a little more in love.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.

“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”

You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”

You froze. How did she know?

She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.

“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”

Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?

Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.

“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.

Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.

—---

It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.

You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.

Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.

“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.

“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.

“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.

“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”

Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.

And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.

“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.

Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.

“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”

Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.

You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.

Never mind. You knew what to talk about.

“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”

Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”

“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”

“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.

“It-”

-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.

Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.

And this now seemed like a very bad idea.

“Just… things,” you said.

Coward.

“What kind of things?”

He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.

Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-

-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

“You should listen to it.”

“What?” You blurted out.

Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.

Never again would you say therapy was boring.

—---

Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.

They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.

Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?

“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”

Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.

But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.

Without having to worry about you.

Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.

“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.

“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”

And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.

But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.

“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”

“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”

Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.

“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.

“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”

“That you know of,” Devan said.

You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”

The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.

“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.

She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.

“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”

“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”

She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.

“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.

It worked.

“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.

You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”

“-They found a foot in his office.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.

“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”

Wednesday didn’t say anything.

Why was she not saying anything?

“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”

She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.

It was fear.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #everyone but her au

277 notes · View notes

c0la-queen · 2 months

Note

RAGHHHHHHHHH

Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈

Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜

Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p

Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!

Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!

---

Edd

If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.

Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.

Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.

He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.

This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?

Will sulk if you reject his attempts.

If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.

If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.

Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!

He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.

You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.

He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.

Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.

Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.

Tom

As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.

He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.

Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.

Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.

He'll sing for you if you ask him to.

Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.

He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."

Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.

When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.

At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.

Matt

He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.

Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.

Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.

If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.

Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.

Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.

Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.

If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.

Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.

If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.

Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.

He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.

Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.

Tord

Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.

His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.

It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.

He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.

More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.

Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.

Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.

His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.

You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.

He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.

Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.

He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.

Red Leader

I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.

This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.

I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"

There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.

The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.

Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.

When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.

Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.

It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.

At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.

He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?

Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?

If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.

If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.

Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.

He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.

When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".

Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.

He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.

But he does.

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tom #eddsworld tord #eddsworld matt #eddsworld tom x reader #eddsworld tord x reader #eddsworld edd #eddsworld matt x reader #eddsworld edd x reader #requested #eddsworld red leader #eddsworld red leader x reader

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gold-rhine · 1 year

Text

Afab! Scaramouche x GN! Dom reader first time

A\N: I guess technically it’s hurt\comfort. sigh. I don’t like to center my writing of trans characters on negative emotions, if you’ve read my previous stuff, you know when I write afab! male characters it’s like. Just guys, who happen to have pussies, having sex. And that’s how I initially started to write Scara’s afab first time prompt, but his canon storyline is so overtly about struggle of dysphoria, anxiety and self-hatred that it felt wrong to not incorporate it into my explicitly trans fic. So I had to rewrite it completely and I’m taking his part out of the compilation so ppl who want to avoid heavy topics and just have a good time reading smut can skip it. Otherwise, give it a try if you like complicated brats, I think it’s one of my good pieces and it has a happy ending.

Warnings: not sfw. graphic descriptions of dysphoria, anxiety attack, dissociation, angst, self-hatred, allusion to self-harm. Fingering, edging, overstim, spanking, oral (character receiving), vaginal sex. Cock stands for strap too, as usual.

Wordcount: 2k

You try to start slow and gentle with him, but he huffs mockingly.

“How long are you going to be wasting my time?”

“This is literally your first time, you little git.”

“Maybe you mortals need to be coddled, but I’m not a weakling.”

But despite his bravado, he’s tense when you kiss him, he doesn’t know how to properly kiss you back and what to do with his hands, so they just limply hang down. When you start opening his clothes to reveal his chest, he’s becoming more and more wooden. You try kissing him, his cheek, his neck, but it doesn’t relax him and he refuses to meet your eyes, still painfully clenched up, jaw locked tightly, like he’s preparing for something bad that he needs to just get through. He is not out publicly yet, still clinging to the belief that if he conforms to her expectations well enough, his mother will accept him. He’s so critical of himself all the time, especially of his body, which is just horrible and wrong, he hates seeing it himself and hates even more the thought of someone else seeing him naked.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask quietly. “We can stop.”

“No!” he snaps. “I’m great. I don’t need to stop, are you stupid?!”

He wants you, is the thing. He wanted you for some time, got butterflies in his stomach, fantasized about you at nights. He wanted you more than anyone else in his life. So if he can’t bear even for you to see him, to have sex with him, then obviously something is deeply, fundamentally broken in him, no hope for him at all.

So desperately, he tries to find a roundabout solution. He’s still wearing a skirt, which he normally hates, but now it’s convenient, you could fuck him without taking it off.

“We don’t have to take off my clothes. There’s nothing good to see anyway. ”

He sounds frantic and frustrated, eyes alight with anger, and this does not look like a good situation to continue to you.

“It’s not a big deal, we can do it some other time when…”

“It’s just a cunt, you don’t need to see it!” He finally meets your eyes and you realize the brightness in them is not from anger, it’s from held back tears, because he believes you are rejecting him no matter what you say, “Why wouldn’t you just fuck it?!”

He hates his body and he doesn’t even want to have a pussy, but somehow subconsciously he feels like the one he has is also wrong, not even good enough for fucking, that whoever sees it will also recoil in disgust, as he does when he sees himself in the mirror. It’s ridiculous and he knows it, but he can’t help feeling like this, and he hates himself even more for this idiotic, nonsensical weakness, so this spirals into this vicious, unending cycle of self-disgust that he can’t see a way out of. What the fuck is so wrong with him that he can have a person he wants so much touching him and still be petrified, when it’s so easy for everyone else, and when…

You scoop him into your arms, turn him around so he doesn’t have to face you and hug him close to your chest. When he gasps and tries to protest, you clasp your hand over his mouth, kiss his ear.

“Don’t worry baby, I won’t look. But you need to calm the fuck down.”

He wants to struggle, but he’s so touch starved that when you embrace him, your warm breath on his skin makes him melt, especially combined with the wave of relief from your promise. He stops fighting you, curls up into a little ball in your arms, hiding his blushing face in a pillow, humiliated by how good it feels to be held, how little it takes.

“You don’t want me,” he says, miserable, but stubbornly proud, when you let go of his mouth. “You just pity me. I don’t want you to be here just because you feel bad for me.”

“I want you. I just wouldn’t want to fuck someone while they’re having a nervous breakdown. You or anyone else, for that matter.”

“It’s fine,” he says firmly. “I’m fine. I will be fine. Just do what you want to me, ignore my reactions, and soon I won’t even feel anything. It’s okay. I’m a puppet.”

It’s the conviction in his voice, the absolute certainty that there’s no better option that breaks your heart a little.

“Fucking hell, do you even hear yourself?”

“Why?” he says, face pressed against pillow, but calm, limp in your arms, a puppet with cut strings, and you hate it. ”It’s true, I am not like normal humans. You don’t have to treat me as one. It’ll be easier for the both of us, in the end.”

Maybe I just want you to feel good, baby.”

“Pffft,” he snorts like it’s ridiculous, like you’re naive and this option is not even on the agenda, and also so stupid he doesn’t even want to argue about it. “Even for humans, first time is supposed to be painful.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No, everyone knows it, and…”

You clasp your hand over his mouth again and he starts squirming, noises muffled by your palm, but his protests die down as soon as your other hand starts siding down his body.

“You’re so bossy for a little brat, aren’t you?”

You flip up his skirt and slap his ass, and he jolts up in your arms, gasps against your skin. You stroke the affected skin first gently, then with more and more pressure, until groping it, fingers digging into his tender flesh. “Maybe be a good doll and let me handle this for you.”

He didn’t know it could feel like this, not even when he came thinking of you before, so good, like he’s safe, being taken care of, but also so sweetly helpless, unable to resist. His head is light and dizzy with desire when you caress his thighs, nervously and instinctively clenched up, and he can’t remember his millions of concerns when you whisper “Open up for me, baby.”

He lets your hand between his legs, you slide into his panties and find him already wet, but when you stroke his clit and quietly tell him “Good boy,” it runs through him like lightning, eyes opening wide, moan escaping from his lips, his entire body arching up against you.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby,” you keep caressing his clit, and he writhes more and more against you. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

His hand grips abruptly at your wrist, his slender fingers digging deep, and for a moment you think he’ll try to tear you off him, but then you realize that instead, he presses you closer to himself. You smile against his neck, the hand that kept at his mouth slides down, stroking his throat and down to his chest. At the same time, you slide your other hand deeper in between his legs, find his wet, pulsing entrance. You push two fingers into him, and he shudders against you, his fingers clenching at your wrist, but his cunt is wet and ready for you, stretching sweetly and leaking, his hips bucking against you. His breath is quick and frantic, heart beating rapidly, and then his fingers find your hand that isn’t buried inside of his pussy, leads it down his chest and then under the clothes, under the bra, to find and caress his small tits, and he whines sweetly, arches up, hard nipples poking at your palm. But when you take your fingers out of his pussy and press the head of your cock against his entrance, he tenses up again, his muscles spasming.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just do it! It’s supposed to feel good for you when it's tight, isn’t it? So just fuck it, I can take it!”

He shuts up with a tiny gasp when you press your teeth into the side of his neck, which lets you keep groping his tits.

“I’ve never met someone, for whom a ballgag is so obviously needed for survival before. It’s going to be okay, baby, relax.”

You stroke his clit and massage his breasts, cutting his protests short, his hands clutching helplessly at yours, not trying to stop you, but just trying to be grounded.

“What if it’s not going to be okay?” he asks quietly, his face buried in a pillow. “What if I’m just built wrong, if it’s just always going to hurt when you try to fuck me?”

“Then we’ll figure out something to do that doesn’t involve penetrating your pussy. It’s not that hard, baby.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to leave you just because I can’t fuck your cunt.”

“Really?” he asks, choked, trying for sarcasm, but failing badly, a raw edge in his voice.

you would just switch to eating him out, but he seems pretty hung up on the inability to take you in, but from how easy it was to fit your fingers into him, how he seemed to enjoy it, you’re pretty sure the issue is psychological. So you stroke his clit, squeeze his breasts and kiss at the side of his jaw. You can feel his entrance involuntarily pulsing open and you push the head of your cock into him, feeling him stretching wider. He turns his head to you in alarm, but you catch his mouth in a kiss, keep caressing his body and slowly moving deeper into him. His fingers move from your wrists to intertwine with your hands, and when you squeeze back, he comes so quickly in your arms, before your cock is even fully sheathed inside of him.

You hold him through the orgasm, then slide out of him, but then he turns in your arms, until he’s under you, he’s looking up at you, instead of being held.

“I want more,” he breathes out, hot and heavy, and before you can think of the answer, he pulls his clothes open, opening his bra and revealing his chest, and then tugs his skirt and soaked panties down. He lies under you, both trembling and determined, his breath fast and nervous for exposing himself to you after trusting you won’t be disgusted with him, that you’’ll *want him*.

“You’re so beautiful,” you run your eyes over him and kiss him, hard, and he presses himself against you, kisses you back with desperate abandon, but still when you break away from each other, he asks, his voice small. “Really?”

In response, you pepper him with hungry kisses, from the neck down the chest, ribs, stomach until you cover his swollen pink pussy with your mouth, while he’s leaking sweetly under your lips. When he comes, and he comes quickly, moaning loudly, you pull him close and kiss his lips with the taste of his own arousal.

“Really,” you tell him softly, while he’s blushing, soft and squirming against you. He shoots you a wry little look that you already came to associate with trouble coming, and says, trying to sound superior, but failing because of mischievous little smiles breaking his act

“So you like this body? That’s so degenerate of you, who would even like something so ugly and…”

He yelps and shuts up when you forcefully turn him over to lay on his stomach and slap his ass, but he looks pleased afterwards.

“There are much better ways to get spanked, you little brat.”

He arches his back, popping up his ass and spreading his thighs to show off his wet flushed pussy, entrance pulsing up open for you. Then he looks at you over the shoulder, eyes glinting in excitement, and sticks out his pink little tongue at you.

“Oh really?”

#rhine writes #rhine writes filth #sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #sub scaramouche #sub wanderer #scaramouche

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