#so far none of my reblogs have pointed this out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxbimbobunnyxx · 6 months

Text

Best Mates

(Fuck boy!Aplha!Eddie Munson x Bestfriend!Omega!Reader)

Summary: You’ve always been in love with your bestfriend, you never thought anything would ever come of it until you present as an omega and he spends your heat with you. WK: 5.5k My Masterlist

Warnings: 18+MINDI Omegaverse so generall a/b/o behaviors. Scenting, knotting, marking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, possessiveness from both Eddie and reader, pining, heartbreak, Eddie leaves reader after her heat so there some angst but they get a happy ending. Pls lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So this is my first time writing both omegaverse and angst, so I was pretty nervous going into this but I’m actually pretty proud of how it turned out! I’d love feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Also shout out to my Lessy poo for giving me some advice @lesservillain (divider used is by @firefly-graphics)

Eddie has been your best friend since middle school and you realized pretty early on that you were in love with him. You remember the exact moment, you were both 16 when a senior cheerleader pulled him into a janitor's closet and he fucked her up against the wall. He told you about it excitedly, in a particular Eddie fashion but each word felt like a knife to your heart. He got the van a few months after that and it only got worse from there. If it wasn’t cheerleaders sneaking around with him behind their boyfriends backs it was band girls who heard through the grapevine how good of a fuck he was asking him to take their virginity.

He would always rant and rave to you about his escapades during your weekly Friday night hang outs and each time it broke your heart. But you listened, because that’s what best best friends do. You’ve had a few boyfriends and you were no virgin yourself but you hardly ever went into details with him and it never worked out because none of them were Eddie. No matter how hard you tried not to compare them to him, you always did.

When you were 18 he presented as an alpha, you graduated and he didn’t, so you hoped maybe he would settle down and find an omega but even if he didn’t at least you wouldn’t be around him everyday anymore to see it. But that didn’t happen, instead he kept fucking men and women alike, omegas, betas, it didn’t matter to him as long as he had a warm hole to fill. You didn’t escape having to see it either, he would take people into the bathroom after shows at the hideout, leaving you to ride home with one of the other guys. You would overhear girls in your college classes whispering about him, how big he is, how hard they fucked them, and it not only broke you but it just made you want him more.

At twenty one you’ve yet to present and at this point you’d given up hope of it ever happening. Your mom is an alpha and your dad is an omega so you always thought you’d present, but you were starting to think you were wrong. That is until today.

You were laying in your bed, your sheets soaked through with slick and sweat, whining with your hand between your legs desperately trying to relieve the pressure, even just a little bit. But nothing was helping, you even tried to use your toy which you quickly learned was a mistake, the vibrations too much for your sensitive clit. You considered calling Eddie, more than once, even going as far as to pull up his contact on your phone before talking yourself out of it. You didn’t want him like this, not just because he felt obligated to help you but because you wanted him to want you because you were you. That’s all you ever wanted.

He had texted you several times, and called twice but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to answer him. He would know something was off with you immediately and wouldn’t believe you if you lied. You felt hopeless as you rolled around in your bed, the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort was the flannel he had left at your house last week. You hugged it tight to your body, the bottom half clenched between your thighs, the other end held up to your nose as you inhaled his scent.

You were half drifted off, still clutching his flannel for dear life when you heard a knock on your door. You groaned, rolling over and deciding to ignore it, there was no way you could answer the door like this. You ditched your tank top and panties hours ago, your hair is all over the place from rolling around in your sweat, and most of all you physically don’t feel like you can move right now. That plan was quickly thrown out the window when you heard it again, this time it wasn’t just a knock though, someone was pounding on your door.

You didn't have to wonder who it was for long, his voice yelling out your name as the loud knocks persisted. Why the fuck was he here? You knew he had plans tonight so you figured he wouldn’t notice you hadn’t replied until later. It only made you want to ignore it more, you couldn’t face him, not like this.

“Open this fucking door or I’m going to break it down!! I know you’re in there I can smell you!”

Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that he could probably smell your heat, even from where he was. You wanted to ignore him, let him bang on the door until he finally gave up, but something told you he wouldn’t. That he would really break down your door to get to you, and you couldn’t help the warm feeling that filled your insides at the thought of him breaking down the door just to get to you. You knew you couldn’t resist him, not physically, even if your mind really wanted you to.

You groaned as you peeled yourself from your bed, grabbing some soft cotton panties out of your drawer and throwing his flannel over you without even really thinking about it. You felt dizzy and weak as you dragged yourself to the front door, but as soon as you hit the hallway it was like someone woke you up. You could smell him and the smell instantly brought the same kind of comfort as the flannel, if smelling him from here felt this amazing you could only imagine what it would be like to shove your nose in his neck and just inhale.

Suddenly the doubts in your mind were gone, you couldn’t even remember why you didn’t want to answer the door in the first place. You just want Eddie. Your pace picks up as you walk down your small apartment hallway and rip the door open. You smell him two seconds before your eyes meet and you feel like someone just knocked the wind out of you. His nostrils are flared, his pupils are dilated to the point that his eyes look black, the look in them wild.

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just pushes past you into your apartment, slamming and locking the door behind him. He walks up to you so you’re toe to toe with him, he’s towering over you, staring into your eyes with lust and fury.

“I’m serious, why didn’t you fucking call me? I called you, you could’ve told me what was going on, you know I would’ve helped you.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, that combined with smelling him this close makes you whimper and you feel a rush of slick drip down your legs, right through the panties you just put on.

“I - I didn’t want you to feel pressured to help me Eddie, I know you’d only be doing it because you feel bad.” You wanted to break eye contact but you felt like he had you locked in place without even touching you.

“Pressured? You really think I would feel pressured? You don’t think I’d come just because I want to help my best friend through this?”

Best friend. Hearing those words come out of his mouth right now almost makes you gag.

“I don’t know.” You just shrug, not sure what else to say.

It’s then that he takes a second to take you in. You’re wearing his flannel and it’s not even buttoned so he can see everything but your nipples, you have on these little white cotton panties, there’s slick dripping down your legs and your fucking smell. He’s never smelled anything like it, anything better. He’s scented and knotted several other omegas, but no ones ever smelled as good as you.

He inhales deeply, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Let me help you little omega, you smell so good, I can smell how badly you want me.” His hands run up your shoulders and rub over your neck, right where your scent gland is, and even just this simple touch makes your head spin even more. You want him to kiss you there. Bite you. You wanted him to mate you, but you’d never tell him that.

“Okay.”

It came out small and shaky but it was enough for him. He surges forward and crashes his lips against yours, his tongue immediately swiping over your bottom lip. When it intertwines with yours you moan at the taste of him. He pulls away, kissing down your jaw to that spot on your neck and your knees buckle. He catches you with ease, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your room.

He tosses you on the bed and it causes the flannel to fall open, exposing your tits fully to him. Your legs are spread without you even realizing it and he can see how truly soaked you are now.

“Look at you baby, wearing my flannel, you have no idea what that’s doing to me. You look so fucking sexy and smell so fucking good. Gonna make you mine, my omega.” He’s not even really thinking about what he’s saying now, your scent and the sight of you so desperate for him clouding his mind. “I need to taste you.”

He lays down between your legs and immediately attaches his mouth to your clothed core, swirling his tongue over your overly sensitive clit with a groan. You moan loudly and arch your back.

“Eddie, Eddie, please please don’t tease me, make me feel good, I need you. I can't wait anymore.” He continues lapping at your clothed pussy for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“You want my knot, princess? Is that what you’re saying? I wanna hear you say it.” The people who you are outside this moment are completely gone, all thoughts of friendship and consequences out the window.

“Please please please, want it so bad.” You’re wiggling under him, your hips rocking back and forth in search of friction, you can’t take it anymore you’ve been aching for hours and your body knew it was aching for him.

“You don’t need to beg, sweet girl, I’ve got you. Let’s get these off…”

You barely have time to process what’s happening before he’s ripping your panties clean in half, bringing them to his mouth and sucking your juices before throwing them over his shoulder. He hastily rips the flannel from your body before tossing it in the same direction. He stands up momentarily to hastily rip off his own clothes, your eyes widen when you see him fully bare in front of you.

He’s more buff than he used to be and his pale skin is littered with more tattoos than he had a few years ago, his brown curls are even messier than usual and when your eyes trail down his body they pause at the little trail of hair under his belly button before stopping at his cock. You’ve heard rumors about it for years, you’ve seen it through his sweatpants more times than you could count but nothing could’ve prepared you for the real thing.

“Alpha, I want you inside me, fill me up please please.” You hardly even recognize your own voice anymore but you’d do or say anything to have him inside you right now.

“It’s okay baby, I’m going to make it all better, make all the pain go away, yeah?”

He comes back up onto the bed between your legs, grabbing them and placing them on either side of his thighs. He grabs his cock in his hand and pumps it a few times before slowly inserting the tip inside you. He wants to take his time with you, he really does, but he just can’t. He slams the rest of the way into you in one stroke, he leans over you on his forearms and starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

The weight of his body and the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly has an unexpected orgasm crashing through you immediately. The relief you’ve been seeking for hours brought onto you in mere minutes. He continues to pound into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You turn your face to run your nose along his neck and inhale his scent, the smell sending you hurtling into another mind blowing orgasm. He kept fucking you hard and deep, pushing you to the edge over and over again.

“Fuck! Eddieeee you feel so fucking - so fucking good, so so good. Thank you alpha thank you thank you.” You’ve been moaning and saying things you never thought you’d have the courage to say, the moans coming out of your mouth were sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of making.

“This pussy feels so fucking good, feels like it was made for my cock. Tell me it’s mine, tell me this pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours - it’s yours! Only y-yours, my pussy belongs to you alpha!”

He growls into your neck as he leaves hot wet kisses over your scent gland, his thirsts start to grow sloppy and you feel his teeth nipping lightly at your flesh and you want him to just bite down.

“You’re so fucking good for me, such a good fucking girl. You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” You feel his cock twitch inside you the same moment you feel his teeth sink into your neck, the feeling sends a warmth through your body you’ve never felt before and you barely have time to process that feeling because seconds later he’s painting your walls with his cum. The feeling makes you cum right along with him but the euphoria is short lived when you feel a stabbing pain inside you.

“Shh shh, baby it’s okay, it’s just my knot, it’s only gonna hurt for a second I promise.” His voice is soft and calming, a stark contrast from the deep commanding tone he’d had since he showed up at your door. His hand reaches up to cup your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek while his nose nuzzles into the bite on your neck. After a moment the pain subsides and is replaced by overwhelming pleasure, sending you into a final orgasm.

“You okay?” He pushes up on his forearms to look at you and he almost feels like he’s gonna cum again. Your hair is a mess, your face is flushed, your skin slick with sweat, and his bite mark, slightly bloody, is displayed on your neck. He knew it wouldn’t take, since you didn’t ask him, but that didn’t stop him from imagining that it did, imagining you were his.

“Yeah, I’m good, I still - I’m still…” you struggled to find the words to describe how you were feeling.

“You feel satisfied but like you still want more, is that it?” His thumb runs over your cheek again and he leans down to rub his nose against yours, the gesture so gentle it almost brings you to tears.

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Well don’t worry babe, you’re stuck with me for the next week. I’ll be here for you, okay?” He grabs onto you so he can roll over onto his back with you on top of him. He lightly puts his hand on your back, pushing you down so your chest is flat against his and he can run his hands along your bare body.

“Okay Eddie, thank you…”

He kept his word and stayed with you through your entire heat, having one of the guys drop some stuff off for the both of you. He doted on you, fucked you and knotted you more times than you could count that it almost made you forget that he wasn’t really your mate, that he was just doing this to help his best friend. So the day you woke up feeling normal and he left to return to his regular life, to return to just being your best friend, you felt like he took a piece of you with him.

You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, which wasn’t that out of the ordinary these days since you both had work and you had classes. He’s called you a few times but you dodged them, only responding to a few of his many texts with short replies. Even managing to dodge your Friday night hang out under the guise of helping a friend with guy troubles.

But tonight Robin and Steve were dragging you to a party and you knew Eddie would be there because he asked you if you were going. You didn’t go overboard getting ready but you did wear your favorite little black dress and add a little more makeup than you usually would. If you were going to see him you were at least going to look hot.

When you get to the party you can already tell he was there. You haven’t laid eyes on him yet but the moment you walked into the door you could smell him. Even through all the smoke, bodies, and spilled beer you could smell his warm musky scent clear as day. It made you dizzy, it made you want to run. You weren’t sure if it was towards him or straight out of the party, you just knew you wanted to run.

You were one drink of mystery punch in when you finally laid eyes on him and you immediately knew which way you wanted to run. He was in the living room, with this beta girl from your English class pressed up against the wall. Your red cup slipped from your grasp and crashed onto the floor, the remaining liquid splashing all over the ground and your feet. You immediately dashed for the door, slipping in the liquid and bumping into a table that had a game of beer pong going on it.

The beer spilled all over the ground and the table tipped back and forth for a moment before landing back on its four legs. Almost every set of eyes there was on you, including the pair you wanted on you the least. You locked eyes with him for a moment, his filled with concern and something else you couldn’t decipher and yours brimmed with tears. You saw him start to untangle from the girl and took that as your sign to bolt. You ran out of the party and down the street, not even caring how you got home.

It’s been a few days since then but it felt like weeks. Eddie had called and texted you more times than you could count at this point. You had avoided every single one up until he threatened to just come over again to which you responded “I need time.” He stopped texting you after that.

You were on autopilot, work and class going by in a daze. You finally had the day off and Robin agreed to come over to keep you company. She brought snacks and you watched a few movies together. You were worried that you would feel different around her after you presented since she was an alpha but she didn’t smell any different to you. When you realized you couldn’t smell any of the alphas you’ve been around, it hit you, Eddie mated you that day.

When Robin leaves you’re back sitting with your thoughts of Eddie. What he might be doing, who he might be doing. You missed him and you hated it. You sighed as your hand subconsciously made its way up to the now almost healed bite on your neck. It had started to scab and show signs of scarring and each time you saw it your heart broke a little more. How could you be so stupid? You thought since you didn’t vocalize that you wanted him to mate you it wasn’t supposed to stick, but it did.

Once you realized it, everything started to make sense. The way you could smell him the minute you walked into that party, how you couldn’t smell any other alphas, the piece of you that felt like it was missing without him around. Eddie was your mate and he was still out fucking around with other people. It made you sick.

Your thoughts are disrupted by a banging on the door and the minute you hear his voice calling your name it’s like you're sent back to that day that he came to you when you needed him most. Part of you wanted to ignore him, let him bang on the door until he gave up, but the part of you that wanted to see him outweighed it.

When you open the door he’s standing there looking just as wild as that day but something about his scent is off and it makes you gag.

“We need to talk.” He looks and sounds pissed and it makes you scoff.

“Yeah? Why don’t you go talk to whatever fucking omega you smell like right now because you fucking reak.” You wrinkle your nose at him and scowl. Was he seriously pissed at you right now?

“That’s what we need to fucking talk about! Can I please just fucking come in?” He can tell you’re about to argue with him further so he just walks past you, leaving you in the doorway with your mouth hanging open.

“What the hell do you want from me Eddie!? You fucking mated me and then you left me! I see you a week later with your tongue down some girl's throat and now you show up at my door smelling like another omega!? Asking to TALK!? Okay let’s fucking talk Eddie. We can talk. Let’s talk about how you’ve made me feel for almost our entire lives!! From the minute you fucked Allison in that janitors closet you’ve been breaking my fucking heart! Every single time you tell me about your hook ups it makes me want to fucking DIE Eddie!! But I sit there and I listen because I’m a good best friend and I could take it as long as you were still in my life! But then you come here, you spend my heat with me and you treat me like I mean the world to you, like your mate, then you just LEAVE and act like none of it ever happened!! I can’t take it anymore!! I can’t let you hurt me like this anymore Eddie I can’t!”

Tears are streaming down your face and your voice is cracking from yelling, you bang your fits on his solid chest while you sob. “FUCK YOU EDDIE MUNSON!! I hate you I hate you I-“

Your rant is cut off by him grabbing your face and kissing you roughly. You grab onto his hair and pull him closer, no matter how much you want to push him away your body betrays you. After a second you pull back with a fire in your eyes, and slap him across the face.

“Princess… baby, you need to calm down.” His voice comes out stern, matter of fact, and it takes everything in you to resist his command.

“Calm down!? Calm down!? You told me you wanted to talk, kissing me to shut me up isn’t talking, Edward!”

“You WEREN’T LETTING ME TALK!! If you just listen to me for five fucking seconds!! I didn’t fucking know okay!? I didn’t know I mated you until TODAY. I thought since you didn’t ask me to mate you it wouldn’t stick, it never has before, but you’re different. You are my mate and I think my heart always knew that even if my brain was too dumb to realize it!”

“So what? It took you fucking TWO other people for you to realize I was the one for you? How fucking romantic!!”

“I didn’t fuck them!! I couldn’t, okay!? After I smelled you at the party from across the room I tired to fuck that beta chick at that party to get you off my mind but I couldn’t even get hard. I figured maybe it was just because she was a beta so I tried to be with another omega and she smelled DISGUSTING to me, the minute her arms wrapped around me I GAGGED and I came straight here!!”

“You didn’t fuck them but you still let them touch you!! You went to them! You tried! When you’re fucking mine Eddie! Do you know how much that hurts!?” You try to push him back but he grabs onto your wrists to hold you in place.

“You’re saying all this but I can smell alpha on you, and all over this entire apartment!!” He’s holding your wrists to his chest to keep you close, his eyes are boring into yours and you feel like he’s trying to look into your soul.

“Yeah ROBIN!! She came over to keep me company because I was wallowing in self pity over your dumb ass!! I CAN’T EVEN SMELL HER EDDIE! I can’t smell any other alphas besides you!!” You struggle against his hold, just wanting to back away from his scent that’s clouding your mind.

“Princess… calm down.” He’s using his alpha voice on you again and even though your body wants nothing more than to obey his command your anger outweighs it.

“Take your clothes off and get on the fucking couch Eddie. Now.” Your voice is stern and matter of fact, your eyes filled with fury so he decides not to question you. Dropping your wrists from his hold, stripping himself before walking over to the couch to lay back on it. He wanted to please you just as much as you wanted to please him. At this point he would do anything to prove to you that he’s yours.

He watches with wide eyes as you strip yourself as well, walking over to stand over him. The look on your face is one he’s only ever seen a few times, pure rage. You looked like you wanted to rip him to pieces, it was honestly turning him on. You swing your leg over his hips so you can straddle him and he moans when he feels your wet pussy touch his thigh.

“Ugh - god you smell fucking horrible Eddie.”

The scent of the other omega still lingered on his skin and you wanted to rip it off. You glare at him as you grab his cock in your hand and spit on it, pumping him a few times before raising up to line him up with your entrance, immediately slamming down on him and inserting him fully inside you. You don’t even give him time to process the feeling of your warm pussy engulfing him, you just start riding him like your life depends on it, because right now it feels like it does. He’s a moaning mess beneath you, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life while he watches you bounce on his cock, mesmerized by the sight of you.

“Tell me whose cock this is Eddie, tell me who you belong to.” Your hips are flush against his while you rock back and forth on his cock, his head rubbing against your g-spot deliciously. Your hands are planted on his chest and your nails dig into his flesh, wanting to mark him in any way possible.

“It’s your - yours baby! I promise I p-promise, it’s always - fuck! - it’s always been yours!!” You start bouncing on his cock again, using his chest for leverage to slam up and down on him over and over again.

“You’re fucking mine Eddie, my Alpha!! Mine mine mine.” You drag your nails down his chest before leaning forward to rub your nose along his neck. You felt a rush of relief when it only smelled like him, she might’ve touched him but she didn’t scent him.

Your hips slowed and Eddie took it as an opportunity to tighten his grip on your hips and start fucking up into you.

“I’m yours and you’re mine princess.” He’s pistoling his cock into you now, getting deeper and going harder than you could yourself and an orgasm quickly creeps up on you. He feels you clench around him while your cum coats his cock. “This is my fucking pussy, you’re my fucking omega.”

You’re moaning so loud you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, your nails digging so deep into his chest that they’re breaking skin now and your nose is shoved into his neck, inhaling his scent while he fucks you so hard it makes you whole body vibrate. You latch your lips onto his neck and suck causing him to throw his head back and growl, fucking you impossibly harder.

“Gonna fill this fucking pussy up, maybe I’ll knock you up then everyone will know exactly who you belong to. Who I belong to.” His hands grip onto your ass and he plants his feet onto the couch as his thrusts pick up, the thought of you with his baby inside you making him insane.

“Yes y - yes! Breed my pussy alpha! Fill me up! I want it I - f - fuck! I want it so bad please please.”

“Yeah baby? You want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?” You whimper and nod into his neck but that’s not enough for him, he grabs you by your hair pulling your face up so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me you want it, tell me you want me to fuck a baby into, tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours! I’ve always been yours, I want it, I want you to breed me alpha!”

The sound of you begging him to begging him to do the one thing his body is programmed to do above all else drives him insane. He knows you aren’t on any kind of omega safe birth control yet and the possibility of it sticking makes him absolutely feral.

“Mark me Eddie, I want you to mate me!” He looks at the almost healed bite mark on your neck, you both know he technically already did but he understands what you mean, understands that you want to know it’s happening this time. So he runs his nose along the mark before sinking his teeth into your throat.

The feeling sends you both over the edge. Your walls tighten around him while he pumps you full of his cum. A few seconds later you feel that now familiar stinging as his knot expands inside you. He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you with a passion that you’ve always dreamed of. This kiss feels like your real first kiss and it makes warmth blossom inside you. He pulls away so he can look you in the eyes, his hands still cupping your face while he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“I love you, you know? I’ve always loved you. I just never thought I was good enough, never thought you would feel the same way. So I pushed those feelings down, and buried them in person after person and I know that’s awful. But please let me prove to you how much you mean to me, forever.”

“I love you Eddie Munson, even though you’re a huge idiot sometimes, how you didn’t see it is beyond me. I feel like I was blindingly obvious.” You chuckle and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, for all the hurt I’ve put you through, I promise I’ll never hurt you again, okay? You’re my mate now, I’m only going to protect you from here on out.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, just basking in the feeling of you.

“It’s okay Eddie, you’re mine now, and I’m not letting you go.” You lay your head on his chest and reach your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair, running your nails over his scalp.

“You think it’ll stick?”

“You were serious about that? I don’t know, only time will tell. If it doesn’t, we could always try again.” He groans and you feel him twitch inside you.

“Okay maybe let’s talk about this later because my knot is never gonna go down if I keep thinking about getting you pregnant and I really want to take a shower.” You both laugh, the kind of laughing you’ve always done together and it makes you feel whole again.

“I love you Eddie.”

“I love you princess, I’m going to spend every single day until my last proving that to you.”

You giggle and nuzzle into his neck, it feels so right, being in his arms like this. It feels like home.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic recs #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #alpha!eddie munson #Eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

nexysworld · 25 days

Text

Dead Dove, Content Entitlement, and Fandoms

There's been no end of posts clogging up popular fandom tags with arguments and opinions on dark content, dead dove, and related things. While I've seen some decent posts that go over media literacy and dark content, I personally feel like none fully encompass my entire feelings on this nor provide all the points that I feel are important.

I know people have strong feelings on this subject, and I'm not expecting to immediately change anyone's minds. But I hope maybe I can toss some food for thought out there, or provide further context from both a victim of SA as well as a content creator. This has been bothering me for a while now to the point where it has been making me no longer want to write or engage in fandoms on Tumblr, and so I needed to get this out there with my stance. I've also had people in my inbox stating that my dark content is somehow morally better than other writer's dark content. TW: Mentions of dark content including discussions of noncon/dubcon, harassment, SA, etc.

Addressing Common Points

If you write or consume [INSERT CONTENT], you're romanticizing and endorsing it and that makes you a bad person. Or, you're weird/wrong/gross for it. I see this brought up primarily with dubcon/noncon topics. It should go without saying, but fiction is fantasy, it's separate from real life. Adults who consume this type of content understand that these things are NOT ok in real life. But to take it a step further, I want to stress that having noncon fantasies is actually INCREDIBLY common. In studies regarding these fantasies, nearly 50% or more of people who participated admitted to having fantasies that align with these topics the majority of which are women. Not only that but these kinds of fantasies are even more common in people who have been victims of these crimes. This isn't some niche thing only liked by a minority of people. If you don't believe me here's an example of ONE study, but there's plenty of easily accessible information out there. By conflating consuming/writing this content with someone's moral character stigmatizes these feelings further and does more harm than good. And I know what you're thinking though. But why? Why would someone who's gone through something like that fantasize about something so awful? Why is this appealing to anyone, victims or not? Fiction creates a safe space to explore topics. In fiction there are no real victims, no one is actually getting hurt, it's all fake. The characters aren't real and if at any point as the reader you are too uncomfortable to continue, you can stop and exit. You can like the idea of a fictional person tossing you around, while also feeling uncomfortable if a real life man tried to pick you up a the bar or didn't take no for an answer. There's also "normal" things you can fantasize about, but not want to participate in IRL.

Hypocrisy and what is considered dark content? This won't apply to everyone, but I've seen a number of people who claim to be anti-dark content but reblog things that are non consensual, perhaps without realizing it. And this is especially true for those who are younger on here. Please understand that noncon/dubcon does not inherently need to be violent or gory. Any situation in which there's a lack of consent or a power imbalance is inappropriate. Somno fics? If it's not explicitly stated that it was agreed upon prior in the fic, that is still non consensual even if it's written to be "sweet.", even if it's a pre-established relationship. Professor x student fics? There's power imbalance there. There's a reason you cannot have a relationship with your teachers in real life. Hybrid fics? Most people write hybrids as completely sentient people who are treated as sex slaves. They have little choice or are "following instinct." You cannot consent to someone who literally OWNS you after adopting you. You get the gist. There's far more to consent than physically manhandling someone. Yet because these things are written in a way that contextualizes them as being "sweet" and "normal", they aren't considered dark content by many people. If you're ok with the above, you have to understand that these ARE forms of dubcon/noncon. I would even argue that these are more romanticizing of these topics than stuff that's far more explicit in nature. If you would be pissed if your IRL partner tried to feel you up in your sleep, but enjoy somno fics, or enjoy the Taboo of Professor Leon, but wouldn't fuck your actual college professor - then that is the EXACT way in which people who enjoy even "darker" content can enjoy the fiction whilst not partaking in real life.

It sets a bad example for younger people on the website/"protect the children." Children shouldn't be looking at smut in general, dark content, vanilla content, etc. I don't know what else to tell you. It is NOT the job of content creators to try and police what teenagers do on the internet, that's between them and their parents. The majority of creators who make 18+ content explicitly state MDNI and block those younger than 18 if we discover them trying to interact with us. That is the most that we can and should be expected to do.

[INSERT CHARACTER] would NEVER act like that, it irritates me when people write them as OOC. Fanfiction is by definition NON canon. The only people who truly know how a character is supposed to act are the people who created those characters. But I want to add on to this, there are plenty of times in which a character acts entirely OOC even in fluffy or vanilla fanfiction. Every writer is going to have a different interpretation of how a character acts or thinks - and yet it's only really complained about when it's dark content. These characters are not real. Leon cannot be upset or hurt by people writing dark content about him, because he doesn't exist. Part of the fun of fanfiction, at least in my opinion as well, is justifying certain things within the context. Many dark content writers will and do explain why the character became how they are or why they think that way using canon as context - not that I think it's required because fanfiction can be whatever you want it to. The point is, dark content or not, not everyone will be on the same wavelength as you about your favorite character.

Even if you're a victim of SA or other crimes, you should get professional help, not read dark content. This is a very bad take in my opinion. Mental health care can be incredibly hard to get. Reading fanfiction is free, it's harmless. But genuinely, imagine you're a victim of a heinous crime, and you're already struggling with feelings regarding it - to then be mobbed by people online telling you that you're weird and wrong for having the feelings that you do? This is also in league with my first point, but having these feelings are actually VERY normal. This is a healthy way to process the emotions in a safe environment where no real person gets hurt, where you can leave whenever you want. Stigmatizing these things does hurt real people though.

You're hurting other people who're victims of these things. Look, if a fic is not properly TW then I fully understand. Every victim will have a different experience, and while some may be ok with dark content, others won't. So if you open a fic expecting it to be one thing and it's another, that's shitty. But tags are there for a reason. If you see something marked Noncon, and that's triggering for you, no one is expecting you to read it. And here's the thing with tags/tw's as well, everyone's trauma is different. Something that one person might not consider dark content, or is generally considered innocuous might trigger someone else. If you are one of those people who think even seeing the trigger warning could be harmful to people, then that's a prime example of WHY you must curate your own experience online. Block certain words, tags, and phrases to make sure you don't see them. But that's on YOU to do, not people who create content. Their only responsibility is to warn you about the contents of the content they've made, their responsibility stops beyond that point. You know what DOES affect real people besides the stigmatization of their feelings or kinks? Harassing them. Leaving hate comments, telling people to unalive themselves. These affect the mental health of the real people behind the content that you don't like. I've seen death and rape threats SENT to dark content writers.

Dark content in other forms of media. It's interesting to me that the majority of discussion around dark content comes from people criticizing fanfiction specifically. Take horror movies for example. The Saw Franchise, we'll say. Do you think the creators of that series want to enact those horrible things onto other people? Do you think they want to be the victims of Jigsaw themselves? What about people who watch content like that? You probably don't think that they do. There's TONS of movies, music videos, even horror novels that have incredibly, and I mean INCREDIBLY dark dead dove content - and yet most people understand that the appeal is in the taboo. That it's fiction. That people who consume THOSE forms of media don't want to participate in those things but do enjoy consuming that content. But when it's fanfiction it somehow becomes a problem.

Entitlement and demand of fandom content. In addition to all of the above, there is a major uptick in people complaining about the content within fandoms some not even relating to dark content. "There's too many stories where reader acts like X." "I hate how so many people characterize this person because that's now how they would act!" "Why is there so much smut? Why can't there be more of {insert what I want}". This is FREE content made by people who do this stuff as a hobby. No one owes you content, and no one HAS to write the way you want them too. If there's tons of content like that, then it's because it's popular. Perhaps your version of a character is in the minority opinion, and that's completely ok!

What's the solution to all of this discourse?

Be the change you want to see! If you feel like there's too many x reader fics where the reader doesn't act how you want - then write it the way you want. Do you have head canons about a series or character that you haven't seen discussed before? Make that post yourself! If you don't feel there's enough fluff in the fandom - then create some! And if you don't want to make content yourself - request it, commission it. Interact with your favorite writers! Encourage them, don't demand. Talk with them about their work, leave comments, and reblog, reblog, reblog!! Being a part of the discussion and interaction is the BEST way to help the community thrive. Surround yourself with the content that YOU want, curate YOUR experience. Block every dark content writer you see if it helps. Go into your Tumblr settings, block words, block tags. Don't set yourself up to be upset or bothered by the content you're getting. Even if you read the above and you still think every dark content writer is a horrendous, awful person - the best thing to do is still block them. Block their content. Harassing them and complaining on it will NOT stop that content from existing. But you will continue to upset yourself by not curating your own experience.

~~~~~~~~

If you made it through all that, thank you for reading. I want to add that my blog WILL continue in the future to have a mix of both dead dove and regular content. I also interact with other dark content blogs, so if you're someone who followed me because of my "regular" fics and want to unfollow/block me, I'm ok with that. <3

#nexyspeaks #Leon Kennedy x reader #resident evil #fandom culture #resident evil writers #resident evil x reader

366 notes · View notes

itstheghostofmypast · 6 months

Text

His Honeybee

Draco Malfoy x (f)Reader

Summary: She was as sweet as honey, as warm as the sun, and as bright as the colour yellow, that would always have his legs turn to jello. Her love for him was as vast as the sea, she was his honeybee.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst)

Warnings: None

A/N: I swear I'm still try na catch up with my requests but please bear with me, I need to get this stuff out of my system from time to time to relax. Please remember to show some love by ❤️ and reblogs.

With a small huff, he dropped his bag, eyes as clear as the lake before him, watching it glimmer under the rising sun. The mist around them had settled to a low veil, only adding to the chilly sensation, nipping at the tip of his ears.

Slowly, he settled down beside a warmer body, moving closer to welcome the furnace-like warmth, earning a small chuckle from the person beside him, his hand reaching to grab onto its counterpart, another half, to complete the puzzle, her hand.

"Didn't I tell you to wear a cap?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, eyes never leaving the book, colouring book? It was at this point that his gaze moved from her alluring side profile to her lap, noticing the coloured pencils and markers on the other side in an unzipped pouch, then the book in her lap, watching her colour an abnormally large, unrealistic, geometric flower.

"Didn't I tell you it'll mess up my hair." his words came out a bit colder than he had intended to, the irritation in his tone was evident, but it was not because of her, never because of her. It was just the cold and the lack of attention he was being provided, but he didn't want her to think it was her fault, he had always tried to be gentle with her, and a tender undertone would resurface from within him around her.

"Even the one I knitted for you?" she pouted turning to look at him properly, a small gasp escaping her lips as she noticed the little kisses and nips left by Lady Winter herself, all across his face, the pink tips of his ears to the way his cheeks were splattered with pink and the tip his nose of a cute little rosy colour. "You look like you're freezing." she huffed letting go of his hand, much to his disapproval, turning to fish for something in her bag.

"You didn't knit me any....thing" his words slowly died off when she pulled out a woollen cap, with two strings on each side, it was by far the ugliest thing he had ever seen. It was by no means extraordinary, it was in no way a fashion statement or elegant, it was a simple, peasant-like - border line muggle-like- woollen cap.

"Tada! I did, " she gleamed before showing him another one, "For both of us." it was only then that he noticed the finer details about the caps, each had a customised trait. One of the caps was completely green, and in the centre was a woollen heart in yellow, while the other had a yellow base and a green heart in the centre- same design, inverted colours.

"Oh" his insult stopped before it could pour out, luckily the gears in his head had worked fast enough for it to click, their house colours and if he knew her like the back of his hand, which he did, she was going to give him the ghastly yellow one with the green heart and keep the green one with the yellow heart for herself.

"This one" Turning her upper body towards him, her hand reached up to his hair, fingers running through his hair, his eyes instinctively closing at the tender action, letting her touch and mess about his neatly styled hair, anyone else would've been burnt to death, but she wasn't just anyone. He hummed at her little comment about liking his new haircut, his bangs adding a nice flair to his aura, whatever that meant. A few minutes in and he had forgotten why she had begun to gently comb through his hair, basking in the oh-so-needed attention he had woken up early in the morning in the first place for, the need of attention that had him trudging through the damp, cold forest all the way to her, in their little corner, their little lake, just to be with her. An affectionate sensation faded away when he felt something warm sit atop his head, covering his ears, though the slightly itchy sensation forced him to snap his eyes open.

"There." tying up the two strings attached to each end of the earpiece, into a pretty bow she moved back to admire her work. His face had turned warmer, not because of the itchy woollen cap, but her little gesture, her look of admiration as if he were the prettiest thing in the world.

"Why...is it...yellow?" looking at anything but her face he mumbled out a question, he knew which one was his before she had even worded it out, but he couldn't figure out the ideology.

"Well" putting on her cap, leaving the strings undone, she smiled at him, "Because my heart is surrounded by you, everywhere I look, I see things that remind me of you like take this place, it's quiet and peaceful, and it's ours, I found this place because it reminded me of you, how you like quiet places, places where you are free from prying eyes, everywhere I go, I see you, like this lake, it's like I'm looking into your eyes, the way it sparkles under the sun reminds me of how your eyes twinkle in potions class when we learn something new, or how when we go to the library, the section way at the back, with the books no one touches, reminds me of the ample knowledge you have on topics I couldn't even think of, how you're so much smarter than everyone, yet, no one approaches you for help out of hesitance, just how no one goes at the back old isle." her eyes caught how a small smile had made its way on his face, how he was now holding onto her hand again, "That's why my heart is surrounded by you. I hope...yours is surrounded by me." peaking up at him, as he turned his face around, hiding his expressions from her, a part of her wanted to tease him for being shy, but perhaps that was for another time. Instead, she settled back down after hearing a faint whisper, "Of course, mine too, is surrounded by you, silly girl."

"Good." with that she let go of his hand and went back to colouring, letting a comfortable silence settle between the two.

It took him a good ten minutes to calm down, her little confession had his chest hammering against the walls of his chest, demanding to be set free so it could nestle in the warm, tender palm of hers, all pretty and all hers. He knew his palm was sweaty against hers, and he prayed to God that she wouldn't continue with her teasing, knowing fully well he'd either snap in retaliation or just run away to cry in joy somewhere in a corner. The noise of his pesky, beating heart rang in his ears, constantly reminding him of his undying love for her. After the ringing dyed out his attention turned towards the scratching sound, noticing the bold choice of colours she was using to colour the unrealistic flower, his curiosity no longer being confined by his sense of logic as it slipped out,

"Why are you colouring?"

"It's therapeutic."

"Colouring like a child ?"

"Hmm, it's designed for an older audience."

"So colouring is a nice way to relax?"

"Mhmmm..." Pulling out another colour she glanced at him, "What do you do to relax?"

What did he do to relax? Most of the time he'd be too frustrated with his father and grades to even care to relax. If he did ever get a moment of peace, it was with her. As she had mentioned before, he was surrounded by her, his senses were flooded with her presence, he'd be thinking about her more often these days, perhaps because winter break was upon them. Winterbreak meant that the two would have to part, he'd go back home to his cold mansion and she'd go back to her loving parents. Parents who knew he existed, unlike his own, who had no idea who she was or if she existed, perhaps if he could build the courage this time, he might tell them, he was after all in his 6th year.

"Draco?"

"I sketch." the words left him sooner than he expected, it wasn't his fault though, he was too distracted by her curious eyes, her inviting scent, her warm and tender aura, his brain would often short-circuit around her, and this was one of those times.

"Ah...that's nice, I've never seen any of your sketches before." she giggled, once again letting go of his hand to turn to her bag, missing the way he shrugged with a "Burn them afterwards."

"Well" turning to him she handed him her sketchbook and pencils, "Don't burn this one, I wanna keep it safe and close to me." she smiled at his surprised eyes, adding in a little "Please" Much to his pleasure, for she knew that would make him all putty and it did.

A few beats of silence later, all that could be heard was the gentle sounds of nature waking up around them, the sun ever so slowly waltzing up higher into the sky, trying to own the cold floor with its glow and warmth within the winter sky. The birds would often change the tune around them, from a soft melody to a high-pitched orchestra of chirps, much to their pleasure, this was what he loved most about spending time with her, everything would be so pleasant, so calming and so warm, caressing his soul with such a tender delicate touch, allowing him to bask in her presence, a feeling he wanted to lounge in for almost all of eternity if it were possible.

Ever so often she'd notice him glance at her, then look ahead, unsure of whether he wanted to ask her something, or tell her. Truth be told, she had been meaning to ask him something, something about them, but perhaps she was too afraid to do so, afraid that it would scare him away. It took so long for him to open up to her, even after they had become an official couple, at least official enough for their close friends to know, but she knew his parents were not aware of her presence. She never brought it up, even after she had introduced him to hers, admiring how he was able to hold up a conversation with her father, gushing over the way he was being forced to eat more by her mother after he had complimented her cooking. She thanked him with her whole being when he had told her how he felt about her home that night, when he lay next to her, snuggled under the covers with her on her cramped single bed in matching pyjamas, "It isn't special, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...it's warm...and nice...mine is...cold. I like it here, I like being here with you."

A part of her wanted to ask him if he'd ever want to be with her outside of school, or what would happen to them after their school years came to an end. Would their relationship cease to exist? Would their love turn into a bundle of memories they'd turn to in their darkest times? Would she just be his secret lover he was destined to leave? Perhaps she felt this way due to the upcoming winter break, all these questions finally bottling up to the max, ready to spill over. But she couldn't, she had to be careful, for she knew no matter how cold or tough he would act, he was but a fragile soul, always yearning for the approval of his parents, for their love and admiration, especially his father's, one he barely received. So, she had to be careful and phrase it properly, because even if he feared his father, she was terrified of the man, she had seen him only a handful of times at school and if there was one thing she was sure about was that other than muggles, he hated Hufflepuffs as well. Maybe their love was short-lived, maybe she should prepare herself for the day he'd let her go, because in this situation it was not the "It's not you it's me", since it wasn't him, he was perfect in all and every sense, but it was her if she wasn't sorted in Hufflepuff, she was from a more prominent family if she was...perfect like him, maybe, then just maybe, their fates could have intertwined till eternity, if only the stars had, for once, listened to her and not decided for her, it only.

"Oh" his gasp broke her train of thought, "I'm late for practice!" he shot up, looking down at her, who was staring up at him like a deer caught in headlights, face flushed, her cap now covering her forehead, as she blinked up at him. Letting out a chuckle he bent down to brush his slightly chapped lips against hers, fingers gently gripping her chin, tilting her head to look up at him, "I've made up my mind, my honeybee, come with me this winter break, I...I don't know what to expect, but I know for sure I want you in my life, whether anyone likes it or not." With that, he knelt one last time to give her a proper kiss, "Finish your colouring, you've been on the same petal for an hour."

"Draco! Wait!" she called out, only for him to turn his head and give her that heart-stopping smile, winking at her before running off to the schoolyards, not waiting for her to speak.

"You're still wearing the....cap." she sighed before letting out a nervous chuckle, well then, at least one thing was clear, his parents may not need to wait till winter break to find out about their boy's heart belonging to a Hufflepuff, especially when his entire Quidditch team would see him in his woollen cap. Shaking her head, she turned to grab the sketchbook flipping it over to look at what he had been sketching, a soft gasp leaving her lips, as her fingers dug into the paper, eyes turning glossy at the sight. For more than an hour, he had sat there, sketching her, from every dimple to strand of hair, the details added in just made her wonder who he had sketched, for this ethereal being could not have been her. That is until she read the little sign off underneath, "My precious honeybee."

654 notes · View notes

kiatheinsomniac · 6 months

Note

hi kia :) are you doing ok? i hope you are queen 💃 I was wondering if you could write how the assassins (altair, ezio, connor, arno, jacob) would react to a reader who suddenly passed out after standing up too fast 😭 it happened to me yesterday and it made me laugh so hard afterwards like thats the goofiest way to pass out ever 💀 iron deficiency queen 👏

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: bestie mood. i stand up too quickly and immediately go semi-blind and have to lean on things for support lol 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, ratonhnhaké:ton | connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

｡･:*˚:✧｡ altaïr ibn-la'ahad

♡ he's got the fastest reflexes you've ever seen, he's lunging to catch you so you don't fall or hit your head. He immediately checks that you're still breathing and will cup your face in his hands and give firm pats to your cheeks while talking loudly to you, trying to pull you back to consciousness

♡ when he finds out why you've passed out, he's immediately reprimanding you and sending you to go and eat enough nutritious foods.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ezio auditore

♡ he wasn't quick enough to catch you yes this is based on how quick you have to be to interact with the game or you don't get to hug Leonardo sobs but he does immediately check you over for injury, your head being the first he checks. He lays you on your back with your head in his lap as he waits the few moments it takes for you to return to consciousness

♡ he immediately begins to ask how you feel and if anywhere hurts and wants to know if you're sick or if you've been eating or drinking enough. He'll pick you up bridal style and cook you a meal himself if it's older Ezio but younger Ezio will lay you down somewhere cosy while he sends for a servant to cook for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway

♡ he won't show it but he panics. He's watched his village be burned to the ground as a child and his life's work revolves around killing people so when he sees you drop to the floor, his first though isn't that you've fainted but that you've died.

♡ he soon gets over that moment of gut-wrenching panic though and comes to his senses, immediately checking you over for injury, checking your temperature and your breathing. He sets you down somewhere comfortable, assuming you're now on your way to bruising from hitting the ground. He makes sure that you get plenty to eat and drink, trying to use the most nutritious ingredients he can for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ arno dorian

♡ another one who panics due to childhood trauma: when he sees someone laid on the floor like that, for a moment, that awful memory of his father flashes before his eyes. He's not so good at hiding his concern as Connor is though. The panic is evident in his voice as he calls out to you and dashes to your side.

♡ Arno knows to make sure that you haven't hit your head or anything and he sets your head in his lap while he waits for you to regain consciousness. When your eyes do open again and you look up at him, you'll see teary eyes and shaking hands on him. But he's just relieved you're ok. You'll get a very pointed tongue-lashing from him following by him insisting on making sure you're well-fed and hydrated

｡･:*˚:✧｡ jacob frye

♡ with quick reflexes and his very extroverted personality, Jacob is either fast enough to catch you or surrounded by some Rooks who he can call to so they can break your fall if he's too far. His first worry is that you're overworking yourself so he makes sure you get a break from work

♡ cannot cook to save his life so he's had to go out and order food to bring back for you (or he's begged Evie to cook for which he now owes her many favours) but he insists that you eat and drink well to recover

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@gojohater101 @ayameiris4 @veryfancydoilies @asuni921 @writing-noah @danielle-marie @minimisthios @tired-lime @ghostofpolaris @etherealsdreaming @loopycorn1123 @jofie-does-things @havatnah @weasleytwins-41 @firagirl @catou1305 @daddyadler @b3k1720 @asianbutnotjapanese

470 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Wednesday)

Summary | Almost halfway through your time away and you and Joel realise you're missing your family. Whiskey makes you curious and Joel is more than happy to prove just what you mean to him.

Word Count | 4.1K

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food & alcohol, dirty talk, unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (m receiving), breath play, breeding kink, cumplay, daddy kink (only briefly), sex under the influence of alcohol, sex in public, fluff and a tiny sprinkling of angst for good measure.

Authors Note | Alright. I wrote this in A MOOD so it's basically just 4k words of filthy smut SO ENJOY! I'm still loving this series and I really cannot wait for you all to see what we're building towards. If you liked this then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or coming to my inbox and freaking out with me. If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’re the one who wakes first this morning. Body warm, Joel’s wide hand splayed over your back, pressing you firmly into his side, where your head is rested on the meat of his shoulder. He’s led on his back, softly snoring, and you can’t help but take your hand and start tracing over the broad expanse of his chest.

He’s so peaceful when he sleeps, you think. The creases of worry that usually litter his forehead are gone, and his features are softened. You like this version of Joel very much. You lean over and press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, wondering when the last time was that someone cared liked this for him. Because you do. You love him. There’s no point fighting it anymore, you’re sure he and Tommy both knew before you did. He doesn’t stir, so you continue trailing your lips down his face. A soft kiss to his plump bottom lip, another to the scruff on his jaw, another in the dip of his collarbone. It’s not until you’re pressing kisses to his tummy that he wakes.

“Where do you think you’re goin’, baby?” He teases, voice thick with sleep.

“Where does it look like I’m going?” You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Somewhere that means trouble.” His hands are trying to pull you back up, but you’ll have none of it this morning.

“Why can’t you just let me make you feel good?” You plead, continuing to trail kisses down his naked torso, “Do I not do it well?”

“Oh pretty girl,” He moans as your lips press a single kiss to the tip of his semi-hard cock, “You do it perfectly, you just don’t have to, makin’ you feel good is all I need.”

You stop, lips just millimeters from sucking him into your mouth, “And what if I told you that sucking your cock made me feel good?”

“I’d say someone sent you from heaven,” He breathes, gripping the base of his cock in his hand, guiding it to your mouth with his other hand on the back of your head, “Go on then, make us feel good, baby.”

You open your mouth as he guides himself in, your tongue swirling over the tip before you let him slip as far down your throat as you can take him. He lets go of the grip he has on his cock, moving both his hands to rest behind his head like this is the most casual morning he’s ever had.

You get yourself comfortable, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock as you swallow him down again, moving your hand up with your mouth, jerking him off as your mouth sucks at his tip.

“That’s it baby,” He groans, bucking his hips into your mouth as you take him back down, “Take as much as you can.”

It’s a challenge but you do as you’re told, letting him fuck your throat, his hips coming up to meet the downward motion of your mouth. The sounds are utter filth, the way you’re gagging on him as he uses your mouth. You bring your hand down to cup his balls, softly massaging them as you bring your mouth off him to catch your breath. You meet his eyes, string of saliva attaching your mouth to his cock. He brings his hand to cup your face, the pad of his thumb running over your swollen bottom lip, moving through the string of saliva so it breaks, falling forgotten on his thigh.

“I ever tell you how fuckin’ pretty you are?” He whispers, dipping his thumb into your mouth.

“Might have mentioned it once or twice.” You grin, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue teasing his tip.

“You know how you’d look prettier?” He asks, you own eyebrow raised in questioning, “If you let my paint your face with my cum.”

You smirk, taking him back in your mouth, resuming the movements from just seconds ago where he’s fucking his hips up into your mouth and your hands are cradling his balls. You’re not sure how long you spend like this, and you don’t really care, because it’s all worth it for the look on Joel’s face when he pulls you off him, fists his cock twice and then covers your face in those thick ropes of cum. Even better when you think you might make him come again just from dragging your fingers through his spend, dragging it down to your mouth to clean yourself up.

He gives you a minute to compose yourself, wiping the last remnants of himself from you onto the sheets, then he’s trying to drag you up his body, no doubt to sit on his face so he can return the favour.

“Not this morning,” You grumble, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips, “I think if you put any pressure on my clit I might scream.”

He chuckles, returning the kiss, “Well then, breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

Joel’s grand plan of taking you swimming is thwarted by threatening black clouds and a cool breeze. Doesn’t want you getting sick, he insists over breakfast. So, once everything has been cleaned up, you pile into his truck and head into town. You’re running low on food anyway, and it’s an excuse to get ice cream if nothing else. If all you really want is to be wrapped up in bed with him all day.

“Vanilla for me please,” You actually scoff and roll your eyes as Joel orders his ice cream, “What?”

“Joel, you can have any flavour under the sun,” You laugh, pointing to the display cases, “Caramel crunch, raspberry ripple, and you choose vanilla?”

“I like it.” He shrugs in defence, taking hold of the cone that the girl behind the counter extends to him, before turning to you for your choice.

“Pistachio for me,” You smile, waiting until she hands it over, “Now this,” You say, running your tongue through the ice cream, “Is so much better than vanilla.”

He takes hold of your hand as you walk through the small town – it’s nothing big, a few stores that sell souvenirs – you stop into one and pick up a bear that you think Joshua might like, along with a bottle of whiskey for Tommy.

“You won’t get Sarah anything?” You ask Joel as you line up to pay.

“I was gonna call her later,” He says, “See if she wanted to come and see me, thought she could pick something out herself if she wanted it.”

You hand over the money to the cashier, Joel insisting that he carries it back to the car for you. He takes hold of your hand again and leads you into the small general store to stock up on supplies.

“I was thinking maybe she could stay the weekend?” You offer, watching as his eyebrows raise, “Maybe I can ask Tommy to come up with Joshua, make it look like it’s a family thing for the weekend.”

You wince a little at your suggestion, knowing that he’d planned this for you, for the both of you. You don’t really look at him as you add some bread into the basket he’s carrying.

“Tommy did always love the lake,” He muses, reaching out for another box of eggs, “He can be in charge of grillin’, instead of me.”

“You don’t mind?” You stop in your tracks, looking up at him.

“Course not,” He smiles, “I’m sure Sarah’s missed her Uncle Tommy more than me.”

“I miss my baby.” You speak softly, distracting yourself by picking up some tomatoes that you’re not sure you actually need.

Joel grips your wrist, pulling you to a stop as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He leans down and kisses you. You can feel everything he wants to say in it. That it’s okay, that he knows he can’t keep you to himself forever, that he understands the bond you have with your son and that you miss him.

“Come on,” He murmurs against your lips, “Let’s get you back so we can make plans.”

The evening has rolled in. It’s cooler than it had been through the day, but now that dinner is over, and you and Joel have made plans for Tommy and Sarah to join you on Saturday, he’s built a fire and you’re sat together, letting the flames do their work.

The fire that Joel has made is warming you through and you can’t help but smile as he sticks a marshmallow over the flame, swirling it so that every inch of it is toasted evenly. When he’s satisfied that it’s perfect, he squishes it between the graham crackers, pulling it off the stick and then he hands it to you. You wait for him to make his own before you toast them together and take big bites. He starts laughing at you when he realizes the corner of your mouth is laden with marshmallow.

He takes his thumb and wipes it off for you, holding his thumb in front of your lips. You look him straight in the eye as you suck the pad of his thumb into your hot mouth, swirling your tongue around it to get the sticky sweet morsel from his skin. He holds it there in your mouth for a second too long, clearing his throat before he pulls his hand away from you, making quick work of finishing his so he can go back to nursing his whiskey.

You do the same, relishing the way he keeps his free hand running up and down your legs that are placed in his lap as you relax. You can feel the alcohol thrumming through your veins. You really should have said no to this last glass, especially when you don’t drink much anymore anyway. It’s making you curious.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask.

“Course you can.” Is his response.

“Do you see anyone else?” You blurt out before you can think about how to word it, “I’m just being nosey so you can tell me to fuck off, but I’m curious.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink, “You wanna know if I fuck other people when I’m not tryin’ to knock you up?”

“What?” You ask, chuckling, “I just can’t imagine a handsome man like you, with a big house to yourself, just waiting to get fucked once a year.”

He’s silent for a minute and you think maybe you’ve made a mistake in asking him, when he finally answers, “I see someone casually, I suppose,” He shrugs, “Never when we’ve been tryin’ again, and it’s always safe, if you’re worried.”

“I’m not worried,” You assure, because you aren’t, you know he’d never be careless like that, “She make you feel good?” You ask.

“Sure, I guess,” Another shrug and you can’t tell if you’re making him uncomfortable or not, “Just…”

“Just what?” You prod.

“It’s stupid.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.” You giggle, kicking one of your feet into his tummy gently to encourage him.

“It’s just… that I can’t ever look at her when I’m fuckin’ her,” He admits, “She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong,” And then the sentence that changes it all, “But she ain’t you, sunshine.”

You suck in a breath and exhale it on an ‘oh’. He’s not shying away from you either. Hasn’t looked away. He’s looking you dead in the eyes because he wants you to know how badly he feels for you. You don’t really know what to do because you’re aching for him. Not just in the normal sense, when you clench your thighs together and beg him to slip inside you, but in the way that you wish you could give him what he wanted. Sometimes you still pray that none of this would have been necessary, that you and Tommy could have done this normally. Sometimes you wish you didn’t know every inch of Joel’s skin like you do, wish that he didn’t know how to make you come into his mouth in under a minute, wish that he didn’t know exactly where to put you in order to make you come on his cock without touching you. It would be easier. But you don’t want easy, not anymore. You want him, in all his messy, complicated glory. But you also want your other man. The one who stood by you through thick and thin, who helped you raise your beautiful boy. Who also knows exactly how to touch you, exactly how to fuck you, to make you sing. You want your cake, and you want to eat it too.

You down the rest of your whiskey, standing up, you waste no time in straddling his lap, spread wide as always. You take his face in your hands and press your lips together as gently as you can, pulling back just a little and watching as Joel chases up to your mouth. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck, urging you back down onto his lips, which you do. You open your mouth to him and let your tongue taste his mouth, the sugar of the smores and the bitter of the whiskey. You grind your hips into his own, cunt clenching when he groans into your mouth.

Something snaps inside of you. You’re pulling back from his mouth and pulling off the jumper you’d thrown on earlier, leaving your top half in just your bra. Joel wraps one of his arms around your back and pulls you into him, his head resting in the valley between your breasts as his mouth trails hot kisses along the swell of your tits, your fingers coming to tangle in the curls atop his head as your own tips back in pleasure.

He reaches around and unclasps your bra, discarding it to the ground along with your jumper. Then, he’s squeezing your tits together with his hands, dipping his head to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He’s had his hands and mouth on you so much over the past three days that every inch of your skin is burning with sensitivity. You cry out, hands fisting his hair tighter as you grind down onto his hips again, his solid cock aching against your fluttering cunt through your jeans.

It's not enough. You need him inside you to breathe right now. Your hands reach for his belt, undoing it, then, the zipper of his jeans, “You in a rush, baby?” He breathes into your skin, moving his mouth to your other nipple as you fight to get away, fight to get rid of your own clothes.

“I need you inside me, Joel,” You whisper, standing up to pull your jeans and underwear off, “I need you now.”

You move to straddle him again, but he puts his wide palm against your stomach to stop you. Your brow furrows in confusion, “Slow down, pretty girl,” He murmurs, “Let me look at you.”

It suddenly strikes you that you are naked as the day you were born. Sure, it’s dark, and the whole time you’ve been here you haven’t really seen anyone else, but the thought that someone might see you is thrilling. You can feel the warmth of the fire on your back, you can only imagine what you must look like to Joel, who has reached into his jeans and pulled his cock out, slowly stroking himself as he looks at you.

“You are the prettiest goddamn thing I have ever laid my eyes on,” He growls, squeezing his cock in his hand at the tip, using his thumb to spread the dewy drops of pre-cum around himself, “Touch yourself for me.”

You falter for a moment, because why would he want to see that? It’s no secret to you, or to Tommy, that once Joshua was born, although your body had done incredible things in creating him, it wasn’t the body you’d had before. But when your eyes meet Joel’s, dark brown, blown over with lust, you feel like the only woman in the world. So, you bring your hands up, cupping your tits, pushing them together as you watch his face. You can see him suck in a breath when you use your fingers to tweak your nipples to pebbled peaks. You watch as he swallows, hand languidly working his cock as you trail one hand down your body, over the mound of your sex to slip between your folds. You dip your fingers as low as you can reach in your standing position, trailing the slick you find back up to your clit where you circle momentarily.

You move your hand away from yourself, taking a few steps towards Joel, who stills his hand on his cock when you stand close enough to him that your knees are touching. You dip your fingers down through your pussy once more, gathering your slick on your fingers before you pull them away, reaching your fingers up to Joel’s face in offering.

“You wanna taste me, cowboy?”

Evidently, he does, because he grips your wrist, bringing your fingers to his open mouth, where he sucks them in. His tongue parts your fingers down the middle in his mouth as he sucks your slick from them, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. You can feel how wet you are for him, can feel the slick on your thighs.

You bend over a little, your fingers still in his mouth as you breathe into his ear, “I think you should let me fuck you now.”

“I ain’t stopping you, pretty girl.” He mumbles, letting your fingers drop from his mouth as he moves his hips enough to pull his jeans down.

You straddle him once more, reaching between you to hold his cock steady as you sink down onto him, letting out a quiet whine as you take the whole of him into your aching cunt. Once he’s fully sheathed into your heat, you give yourself a moment to adjust to him. You’ve been taking him multiple times a day and he’s still so fucking big inside of you that you need a minute before you can start bouncing on him.

Once you start moving on him in earnest, his head drops in pleasure as he starts to guide your hips to move in the way he knows you both love. That simply won’t do for you. If he can’t look at other women because he wants to look at you, he’s going to keep his eyes on you for the rest of the night.

You grip his chin in your hand and pull his face up, “You’ve got the opportunity, so fucking look at me.”

You haven’t even finished speaking when Joel’s hand flies to your neck, palm covering the delicate column of your throat, fingers squeezing on the sides ever-so-gently, “You gonna get mouthy with me, mama?” He growls, “I’m fuckin’ lookin’, make it worth my while.” He dares.

So you do, you make it worth his while. You put your hands on his shoulders and lean back on him, dragging your hips up and down his rigid cock, delighting in the way his eyes are trained on your tits as they bounce along with your movements. You look him dead in the eye as you let out a desperate moan.

“Worth your while, Miller?” You tease, one hand dropping from his shoulders to grip one of your tits, playing with your nipple again.

He drops his head, taking hold of your nipple in his mouth like it’s an offering, swirling his hot, wet tongue across the pebbled peak, one of his hands slipping between you to swirl over your clit. You cry out, listening to the sound echo through the woodland around you.

“It will be,” He groans, “Once you come on my cock, pretty girl.”

He presses his thumb into your clit further, more pressure adding more pleasure, and within no time you can feel the knot in your stomach, coiled tightly, start to unravel. You beg him not to stop, beg him to keep his thumb right there, and he doesn’t deny you. He bites down on the soft skin of your shoulder as you come for him, cunt clenching around his cock as you shudder, his name falling from your mouth a mile a minute. The pleasure is enough that you don’t notice the slight pain of his teeth and the pressure of him sucking a bruise into your skin.

He barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s standing, holding you up as he settles his knees into the dirt. He puts you on your back onto the ground and you know that come morning your back is going to hate you, but right now, as he puts your legs on his shoulders and pushes you forward, folding you entirely in half, pounding into your spent pussy, you don't care. His cock is bruising as it hits your cervix, but you always liked the pain, always liked the way it felt like he was splitting you in half.

“Gonna fill me up, daddy?” You ask, the word slipping out of your mouth before you can catch it.

You look at his face, eyes blown wide, darker than you think you’ve ever seen them before, the light from the dying fire casting shadows over his painfully handsome face. He dips down, cock pressing so far into you that you think you might die, teeth nipping at the skin at your neck, adding smaller marks to the bigger one currently blooming on your shoulder.

“That what you want, mama?” He growls into your ear, “Want daddy to fill you up, put my baby inside you?”

Your hands come up to grip the meat of his ass, nails digging into the plump flesh to keep him where you want him the most, “Please Joel,” You whine, “Give me what I want.”

He doesn’t last much longer. His head is buried in the crook of your neck as he breathes out your name, movements stilling as you can feel the white-hot ropes of his cum filling you up. You both stay still for a moment, the only movement is the way your chests move up and down as you try to breathe.

“Joel,” You mumble, grinding your hips into his to try and get his attention, “The ground is actually quite uncomfortable.”

“Shit, sorry,” He exclaims, pushing himself up, his softening cock slipping from your pussy, “C’mere.”

He pulls you gently by your arm once he’s managed to right his own clothes, leaving yours abandoned by the fire as he carries you inside.

“How did you end up completely clothed and I was naked?” You mumble into his shoulder as he walks you both into the bathroom.

He chuckles as he starts to run you a bath, setting you down on the toilet seat whilst the water warms up, “Felt like a damn teenager,” Joel murmurs, splashing in a generous amount of bubble bath into the water, “Felt like that a lot this week, actually.”

Once he’s got enough water in the tub and he’s satisfied you won’t burn yourself in the water, he uses his hand to brush most of the dirt off your back, helping you into the water. He turns to leave, but you grip onto his wrist.

“Get in with me?” You ask, eyes pleading, you don’t know why but you don’t want to be alone.

He smiles, slowly stripping off his own clothes before he gets into the water behind you, settling you between his thighs, arms wrapping around your middle. You wiggle around a bit to get comfortable, which has Joel hissing behind you.

“No funny business,” He scolds, “We’re here to get clean.”

“Yes sir.” You mumble, letting yourself relax into his hold.

You don’t even really register his hands as they wash you, or the way he gets out first, and wraps himself in a bathrobe before helping you out to do the same. You’re vaguely aware of him drying you off the best he can before he wraps you both up in the sheets, pulling your back as closely into his front as he can, slotting his thigh between yours so there isn’t an inch of your skin that isn’t touching his. You’re both asleep in minutes, cradled together, as if nothing bad would ever happen if you just stayed there together.

561 notes · View notes

stvckwithaphobia · 1 year

Text

— ROOMMATE. [han jisung] 🗝

content/warning. han jisung x female reader — roommates — perv jisung — rough sex — unprotected penetrative sex (don’t do this) — smut/pwp — dom/sub dynamics — kinda innocence kink and hints of free use — slight dumbification — reader gets called doll, good girl, slut and whore

word count. 0.7k

note. so deeply sorry I was so inactive again… but thank you for all the support nonetheless. my life has been a little rough lately, but I hope this time I will be back for real ❣️

important. minors do not interact, this is 18+ content — none of the characters are supposed to imitate real people, any coincidences with names and places are just for the sake of fiction — if you enjoy this content pls consider leaving a comment or reblogging this!

—

He feels horrible. Captured inside a moral dilemma all over again.

That’s what it’s been like these past weeks—due to your insomnia, your roommate allows you to sleep in his bed with him. Jisung knows it’s easier for you this way, having someone to protect you from nightmares.

The act of yours is so incredibly innocent—completely opposite to Jisung’s thoughts running on his mind.

But, luckily, tonight everything changes when he hears you moan his name so softly in your sleep. Well. Jisung thinks you are asleep but in reality you are just trying to get a reaction out of him.

And, oh god, once he realises you have been playing with him, it’s as if a switch flips inside him—bringing out his most evil desires.

You don’t know how many hours it’s been. Your brain is foggy from the sensation of your roommate’s thick cock pounding into your wetness. He’s filling you so deliciously, the bulge pretty much visible in the position he has captured you.

His hand is seizing around your throat. He adds just enough pressure as you enjoy while you are busy trying to not completely lose your mind yet. But with the way he is staring at you—dark gaze of those deep brown eyes fixated on your fucked out face and that mischevious smirk provoking you even more—it’s nearly impossible to stay sane for any longer.

“I knew it,” he lets out between thrusts. “You pretend to be all innocent, baby, just for me to snap and take you as I please, hm?”

Oh, how much you do. You’d allow him anything at this point—toss you around with his strong arms, manhandle you in a position he knows is best for you. After all, Jisung hasn’t been super aware of the tiny details about your sexual interests for nothing. That pervy bastard made sure to keep track of all your likings.

Checking your search history on adult content, reading some chapters of those steamy romance books on your shelf and sometimes hearing your soft voice spilling from your lips when you brought some male guest over—just for him to listen to it and cum in his own fist.

But now he’s finally got you under his spell. Absolutely helpless underneath him—as you allow him to rail you into oblivion. Your thighs or more so your whole body will for sure be sore tomorrow.

“Tell me, how does it feel having your tight cunt stuffed with my cock, my pretty little slut?”

“S-so g-good, Sungi… so g-good,” you giggle. By now you are more than far gone, allowing your roommate to take care of your body in the most sensual way possible.

You’ve lost count how many times he has brought you to that sweet relief tonight. Jisung seems to grow liking in overstimulating you, slowly manipulating your brain to only reach your nth orgasm with his permission. Of course, by demanding you to always either keep your eyes on his or call out his name or both.

But it feels so good, so overwhelming—the way your own juices are spilling out of you, right before he rams his length into your aching hole again. Deeper. Faster.

“I knew it all along, doll. You’re just a needy whore for my cock, patiently waiting for me to fuck you as I like, hm?”

You let out a muffled babble then, followed by a high pitched moan and something Jisung makes out to be a combination of ‘more’, ‘harder’ and some syllables that sound like his name.

“Please– need all of your–“

He knows exactly what you need. And Jisung is willing to give you all of it—but for now he is not done with teasing you yet. Not after all the teasing you have been putting him in throughout this night and even before.

The little flirtatious jokes you’ve been making, the wandering around in your tightest shorts in the apartment in order to get a reaction out of him—the both of you are more similar than expected, the potential of being a little pervy for each other there from the beginning.

“Yeah, keep begging like this for me, doll, and maybe I’ll fill you with my cum. But prove to me first that you’re a good girl. You get that?”

You are definitely in for a long night and desperately wish this isn’t a one time thing—Jisung is undoubtedly ruining you for anyone else…

—

#stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #han jisung hard thoughts #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #han jisung imagines #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #han jisung hard hours #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

2K notes · View notes

solar-wing · 8 months

Text

🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did.

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home.

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother.

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

851 notes · View notes

55sturn · 2 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT

↳ wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby, snap out of it…

↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n lands a spot in the most competitive entry class at harvard, it's a high demand film and production studies class, due to the opportunities that learning under that specific professor produces. only twenty five people land a spot each semester and the students often land the students an incredible job in any part of the film industry. however, the kicker? the professor can only choose one student to send out a letter of recommendation for. and on top of that, the only living/dorm situation left is co-ed, so she applies and gets it, however when she arrives, she's disappointed to find out her suite mate is none other than someone she knew, and grew to heavily despise in high school, matt sturniolo.

↳ warnings: swearing, smoking [weed + cigarettes], alcohol consumption, making out, hickies, arguing, arrogant!matt, unwanted violence, physical advances, implications of sex.

↳ pairing: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ au [alternate universe]: no fame! university au!

↳ tropes: academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, hurt / comfort, grumpy girl x sunshine boy, she falls first but he falls harder.

↳ playlist for this series!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 0.01: y/n receives the news of her life and she feels on top of the world, as if nothing could bring her down, until she meets her dorm mate, rather, re-meets him.

CHAPTER 0.02: a small argument snowballs into something much larger. tensions grow high only a few hours after re-meeting and some repressed memories are revealed much earlier than anticipated.

CHAPTER 0.03: tensions still run high, even after a week, and matt’s actions have frustrated y/n to the point of nearly snapping, so in a futile attempt to clear and ease her mind, she and jocelyn decide to attend a party, however she only leaves even more confused.

CHAPTER 0.04: the aftermath of the party has wedged a bigger divide between y/n and matt, and this time, she’s not backing down, even going as far to give matt a taste of his own medicine, and what happens when matt sees who her late night hookup is?

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @florcult @flynnriderishot @33sturniolo @sugrhigh @greatooglymooglyyy @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @hesvoid3434 @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby

#Spotify #snap out of it universe #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo series #matt sturniolo series #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia #indie aesthetic #enemies to lovers #academic rivals to lovers

169 notes · View notes

malarign · 9 months

Text

crybaby

(when they find you crying)

contains: bf!maknaeline x gn!reader | genre: angsty fluff | tw! crying obv, kissing, low self esteem, appearance insecurities, burn out, stress, lmk if i missed anything! | wc:

reblogs are highly appreciated!

author’s note: sorry it took so long, but i’ll try to post more often now! 😼 also big thank you to @odxrilove for beta reading!

for hyung line version go here!

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

Looking from your computer screen to the window you felt dizzy. All those hours you spent trying to write something that made sense weren’t as productive as you thought they would be. You just stared at your short story helpless, no sensible thoughts came to your mind, causing a few tears to form in your eyes.

Closing your laptop harshly, you hid your face in the palms of your hands and sobbed loudly. Your cries brought attention to Sunoo who’s been busy preparing some warm meal for both of you. He kind of knew something was wrong - you seemed exceptionally stressed and nervous the whole day so he waited patiently for some reaction from you. He ran up to your room, leaving the stove turned off.

He saw you shaking slightly with every sob, sitting quite uncomfortably in front of your now closed computer.

“Sweetheart?” He watched how your head shot up at the nickname. He tried to send you a comforting smile, but at the sight of him you teared up even more. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, gently stroking your hair.

You brought your form closer to him, trying to find comfort in his hug, but even that didn’t seem to help.

“I feel so bad,” you stuttered out. “I don’t feel it anymore, I don’t know how to write,” you cried bitterly.

“What do you mean? You love writing,” he tried to understand, especially since nothing pointed to your sudden burnout.

“I feel like I’m getting lost in between all those words, and I’m so scared, Sunoo. I know nothing apart from writing, it’s my whole life. But now I’m not able to rig up at least one good sentence or even a phrase.”

He felt how a stain of your tears on his T-shirt became bigger and bigger with your every word. He wished he knew how to help you, but none of you truly imagined a moment like this. Writing and storytelling has been your passion for the longest time, he loved every single one of them and always wondered how you were able to give utter to your stories so beautifully.

“Maybe, try to rest for a while,” he said after thinking for a while. “Don’t you think you’ve been pushing yourself a bit too much lately? Burnout doesn’t mean your passion is completely gone, but that you should prioritize yourself now.”

He felt how you nodded slowly. You pulled away from him to wipe your face. Cupping them he planted a sweet peck on your nose and forehead earning a small smile from you.

Yang Jungwon | 양정원

Looking in the mirror you almost didn’t recognize the person who stood in its reflection. They looked at you but at the same time it wasn’t you. Then why did everything tell you this is how you looked?

Without noticing it tears started cascading your cheeks in hot pathways. Your body was far from perfect and you knew it damn well. How could you do that to yourself? How could you neglect your body like this?

Trying to calm down before your boyfriend Jungwon would come back home from work you fanned your face with your palms in hope it would stop your tears from overflowing, but it was self-defeating. It only made you cry harder, disgusted at the thought of him having to bear with you.

“Y/n?” His voice brought your attention. You turned around to face him with tears-stained cheeks and his face grew completely pale. “Y/nie…” he cooed and stepped closer to you.

When he almost had you in his arms you took a few steps back. He looked at you confused, tilting his head in question.

“Do you love me, Jungwon?” you asked once your sobs calmed down a bit.

He froze at his spot, not knowing what hurt him more - you questioning his feelings or the state you were in.

“Of course I love you. So much, Y/n.” You looked down at his words. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no of course you didn’t.” You were quick to respond.

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked and extended his arm to you. You took his hand hesitantly and he pulled you to him, engulfing you in a comforting hug. “You know you can tell me everything.”

“Why?” you asked, facing him and watched how confusion painted his face again. “Why do you even love me? I’m not pretty, I’m not as talented as you are, I’m not an interesting person at all, so why are you interested in me?” Tears started spilling down your cheeks, but Jungwon was quick to wipe them with a gentle smile.

“My lovely, the thing is I disagree with everything you just said. To me you’re the most beautiful, talented and interesting person I know. I love you for everything and you have no idea how I wish you could see yourself from my point of view. Then you would love yourself just like I love you,” he said, playing with your hair in the meantime.

Looking at his eyes apart from his love for you you saw sincerity, both brought smile to your face again, forgetting about those thoughts for a while.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力

Riki stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for any response from you. It’s been an hour or two since your exam ended, yet there was no message from you saying how it went. The lack of it already told him everything, but the silence from your end made him sick to his stomach.

He finally reached your apartment and quietly opened the front door. Usually he made sure you knew he came over, being loud and cracking jokes just from the moment he stepped inside. Today was different though. He knew what awaits him and prepared for the high possibility of dealing with your sadness. He peeked inside, looking for you and trying to hear any sound of sobs coming from inside. And he indeed heard some sniffles coming from your room along with your playlist for crying.

He took off his shoes and quietly opened the door, minding that at a certain point they creak pretty loudly. The sight made his heart drop. You were laying on your bed with eyes completely red from crying, trying to stop more tears from flowing down.

“Y/nie,” Riki called your name bringing your attention. You tried to smile but finally seeing him made you feel more emotional and embarrassed at your total failure. He sat at the edge of your bed, covering your body with a blanket. Cupping your cheek, he rubbed it with his thumb wiping the lonely tear along the way. “Let me make you your favorite tea, how does that sound?” he asked and was about to stand up when you firmly grabbed his wrist.

“Can you stay here instead?” you asked in a low voice that threatened to crack at any moment.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately.

He laid down next to you and let you nestle up to his warm body. You tried to calm down for a long time now, but nothing worked as good as his sweet voice murmuring soft confessions to your ear and the comforting scent of his perfume.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked but you shook your head against his chest. “Do you want to watch something then? We could watch Tangled for example,” he suggested.

You slowly raised your head showing him the biggest puppy eyes and pout you were able to put. He chuckled at your obsession with the animation and reached for your laptop to search for it.

“I love you, baby, and I’m so proud of you,” he said against your forehead in between soft pecks he planted on it.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies, @yenqa, @heesitation

518 notes · View notes

musings-of-miss-j · 2 months

Text

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part six: in which you wrangle out information about the doctor's segments, discover a library and obtain the favour of its obscenely wealthy resident

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: is the burn even burning. slow burn, gn neutral reader who is occasionally referred to as 'miss', smart-ass reader with just a sprinkle of social anxiety and a healthy dose of skepticism

warnings: blood and organs. are we even surprised at this point

series masterlist

as always, let me know if you find any pronoun slips!! oh, and friendly reminder that reblogs help circulate my work much better than likes <3

word count: 4628 words

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

“They are not clones,” he replied dismissively. “Have you nothing to say to explain yourself?”

“In that case, how precisely do you define them?” You prodded, all anxiety at your lateness forgotten in the face of this engrossing new mystery. “I’m assuming you created them. How, if not by cloning?”

The Doctor crossed his arms and stared you down. You gazed back up at him, resolute and unmoving in your curiosity. You looked different today, he noted; you apparently still hadn’t found your cloak judging from the fact you were wearing Childe’s, damn him,and the shadows under your eyes were more pronounced than usual. He frowned behind his mask. Had you not gotten enough sleep? Perhaps he shouldn’t have kept you in the lab so late; after all, sleep deprivation would make you more prone to committing foolish blunders in the vicinity of his precious experiments. He couldn’t have that.

“My segments are none of your concern,” he said with an air of finality.

“Doctor, as your apprentice, am I not entitled to having any questions outside my realm of expertise answered by you?”

Oh, you devious thing.

With a dismissive wave of his gloved hand, the Doctor swept past you towards the reflux apparatus he set up the night before.

“Provide an acceptable excuse for your tardiness, and perhaps then I’ll be more accommodating.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, unsurprised by his persistent give-and-take mentality, and made your way to your array of petri dishes. Under different conditions, the fungi growing within them developed a multitude of characteristics; under direct sunlight, tendrils of green plantlife snaked through the mycelium, when submerged in water the fungi formed tiny yet distinctive fins, and many other such phenomena.

“I had an encounter with Lady Eight and Lord Eleven after the lab session.”

“One that lasted well past midnight?” He asked, stealing glances at you as he set up the next step of his current experiment.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a disdainful roll of your eyes. “Hence my lack of punctuality. I had to entertain guests.”

Outrage flared in Dottore’s chest. How dare they intrude upon you at such an inopportune time? Of course, he conveniently dismissed the fact that he was the one who kept you so late in the first place; as far as he was concerned, he was entitled to your company. You were his apprentice, after all.

“Understandable enough,” he conceded.

You shot him a look. “Well? Your… segments? What are they, precisely?”

He muttered something unintelligible before responding. “Iterations of myself at various ages.”

“I counted seven of them. Are there any more? What purpose does their existence serve? How did you create them?”

“You’re terribly inquisitive today, dear student,” he drawled, holding a test tube to the light and swirling the contents. You frowned. Did he intend to leave your questions unanswered? You really were awfully curious. “Count yourself lucky that I’m in fine spirits today.”

Visibly brightening, you rested your chin in your hands and your elbows on the workbench as you waited for him to go on. You never did seem to notice that he was always in a good mood whenever it came to you and your ceaseless inquiries.

“You counted correctly, there are indeed only seven of them,” he began, preparing a solution for the day’s work with the various test tubes in front of him. “I created them using techniques similar to those utilised in ancient ruin guards, but imbedded with my consciousness and the ideals I held at different phases of my life. This allows me to approach any problem from multiple perspectives, and prevents me from becoming restricted to familiar cognitive patterns.”

You hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed as you mulled over his answer.

“But how did you ensure that the segment’s outlooks are exactly the same as the ones you used to have? Does your current personality not create some sort of bias and alter the way in which you view your… past self?”

The Doctor nodded his approval; you were asking the right questions.

“I am not heralded as a genius for nothing,” came his amused reply.

“That is a wholly unsatisfactory answer,” you grumbled, but let it slide. “Why haven’t I seen them before now?”

He elected to ignore that.

You managed to wriggle out of the Doctor’s snide remarks that you were getting lazy and make your way to the dining hall on time, for once. A restock was absolutely necessary; you’d run out of food in your dorm, and considering the sizeable journey you had to make to reach the dining hall it was a much easier endeavour to just hoard quick meals like an animal going into hibernation. Besides, you didn’t want to leave Arlie waiting, either. While you still didn’t know what kind of power she held, nor to what extent it would affect you, you were far from excited to have her demonstrate that power if you somehow managed to displease her. Even the Doctor, Childe and Signora appeared more manageable; at the very least, you knew exactly how they could make your life miserable if they wished, while Arlie was shrouded in mystery save for her dizzying, razor-sharp grace. Her special brand of courtesy felt like it would leave you scarred and bleeding out if you didn’t watch your step; a knife’s edge you had to dance around and an irresistible enigma for someone as relentlessly inquisitive as you.

After loading up a plate and sliding one of the chefs a tidy stack of mora to have packaged meals sent to your dorm, you slid into the seat across from Arlie at the table by the window you were somehow consistently lucky enough to snag (luck had nothing to do with it, really. She made damn sure no one else would sit there). Clearly she’d arrived some time ago, judging from the empty pot of coffee in front of her, and she offered you a nod of acknowledgment as you sat down. After your first meeting, she’d abandoned the purple robes that had were meant to serve the purpose of disguising her as an electro cicin mage, and now whenever you saw her she donned sleek, finely-tailored suits. You couldn’t say they didn’t look marvellous on her.

“I was expecting to see you at dinner, not this early.”

“The doctor was an in amicable mood,” you replied, buttering your roll and slathering on a layer of too-sweet jam. Mona had perfected both the art of astrology and jams; you missed her and the flawlessly balanced confections she’d make during the rare instances she had the mora to spare.

“Why are you staring at that bread roll as though it made you an orphan before your very eyes?” Arlie’s silky voice took on a bemused edge, snapping you out of your reverie. You were more than a little surprised by her question; you liked to think of yourself as somewhat difficult to read. Perhaps you were, but nothing escaped her searching gaze.

“I was just ruminating over my research.” It no longer unsettled you how smoothly the lie flowed from your tongue.

Annoyance spiked in her chest. Inconceivable, that you would entertain any thoughts that didn’t involve her. You smiled slightly. “And your ever-cryptic identity.”

She shook her head, laughing quietly. The previous frustration quickly dissipated. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”

“Tastefully curious,” you corrected with a laugh of your own.

“It’s hardly as if you’re the most comprehensible of people, either.”

You grinned. “I’m inclined to disagree, Arlie. Why, I’m an open book!”

“I’m having trouble translating your pages, then.”

“Linguistics isn’t your area of expertise, I take it?” You teased, lifting your fork to your lips. Casual conversation with Arlie felt less like balancing on a tightrope over a clearing swarming with tigers and more like finding that one of the tigers was actually quite civil and pleasant company, if you overlooked the teeth and claws and minded your manners.

“I’ll gladly learn if it means understanding you better.” Her silver-tongued reply and suave smile had you blushing and taking a moment to collect yourself.

“And you have the unprecedented confidence to call me cheeky,” you quipped.

Savouring the lapse in your composure, she replied bracingly. “Being timid doesn’t get you anywhere. Listen. Request forms will be issued later today. Make sure to submit yours before midnight.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Ah, I see. To restock any necessities we might have exhausted, yes?”

“Precisely.”

Fantastic. You needed a new turtleneck sweater after the eventful dissection with the Doctor left if bloodstained beyond repair.

“I assume the Regrator is the one responsible for overseeing such matters?”

She frowned behind her mask. Just what did he have to do with anything? Why would you bring him into the conversation? Or anyone, for that matter? “Yes, that’s right.”

You shot her a puzzled glance at the sudden frigidity in her voice. Maybe she held a grudge against him, you reasoned; it was entirely possible that she was one of his higher-ranking subordinates. Or maybe she was a Harbinger who held contempt for one of her colleagues.

“The palace truly is a self-sustaining community,” you remarked. “Do soldiers and recruits ever leave for anything besides missions?”

“No. Snezhnaya is far from a forgiving place, and there’s safety to be had between these walls.”

So the Fatui were effectively isolated from the rest of Snezhnayan society, then. You vaguely remembered from an introductory politics lecture that such physical separation between civilians and the ruling body could easily cause unrest and eventually conflict, tearing the nation apart. Oh, well. Hopefully your diploma would be complete long before that happened.

With food in your stomach and the usual vague wonderings about Arlie in your head, you returned to the lab.

“Oh, good,” Dottore remarked without looking up from organ modification he was performing. He insisted that it was enhancement, optimisation, and you firmly maintained that it was nothing but needless meddling. “You’ve finally returned. Come here and help me locate the damned tricuspid valve.”

“Surely you’re not so old that your eyesight is failing, doctor?” You asked, removing your leather gloves in favour of the horrible yellow plasticky pair. With a contemplative hum, you leaned over the countertop to survey the bleeding heart (ha, ha) more closely. Remarkable, really, how precise the Doctor’s incisions were; even you had to swallow your pride and admit that he truly was the best of the best, the epitome of perfection so highly sought after by any academic. Noting the blood dripping onto the floor, you winced. Perfection tampered by a thorough indifference to anything that wasn’t his research would be a more accurate description. You batted away his hands and took the scalpel the two of you were always fighting over, making a clean cut through the right atrium and gently peeling away the torn muscle until you could see the flimsy tissue you were looking for.

“There’s your valve,” you said, handing him back the scalpel with no small measure of reluctance. The rules dictated that he’d get to use it for the rest of the day since he got it first, after all.

He ran his bloodied thumb along the edge of his mask before going back to poking delicately at the tissue. You grimaced, watching the white leather of his mask stain crimson where he touched it.

“Flawless,” he murmured.

“Yes, quite,” you agreed, surveying the heart over his shoulder. It had clearly been removed by someone exceptionally skilled, every slice through the tender flesh perfectly made.

Ironically, Dottore was referring to your work. And you, in general.

You left the lab tired but satisfied. The day’s experiment had involved lifting several heavy mechanical components; ruin guard’s remains, to be precise. To your eternal chagrin the Doctor hadn’t struggled in the slightest, although you knew for a fact his sleep schedule was deplorable and he so rarely ate anything at all; in fact, you’d made a habit of discreetly leaving plates of food around the lab for him. A dish of vegetable stir fry you’d made in a sleep-deprived haze when your stomach rumbled loud enough to wake you and most likely every one of the castle’s inhabitants, a bowl of fruit, an exquisite chocolate mousse Anya had whipped up for you, and other such snacks scattered throughout the lab far away from any dangerous chemicals. Not that you’d admit to bringing them for him, much like how he’d deny having eaten any. What a strange, prideful pair the two of you made.

Your (well. Childe’s) coat snagged on something as you walked back to the dorm, yanking you back and forcing an obscene curse from your mouth. You crouched to inspect the source, and to your surprise found it to be the edge of a door that was left cracked. It would’ve been invisible if it were closed, and hooking your fingers into the narrow gap and pulling yielded no results. The door didn’t budge. Intrigued, you knelt fully to inspect the wedge; upon running your fingers up and down the seam you discovered a series of tiny, circular indents in the wood.

“Eureka,” you whispered softly. A similar mechanism could be found in several other places in the palace after careful inspection, and to your amusement they all required the same pattern to unlock. Terrible security. You tapped the indents in the order you’d long since memorised, and allowed a tiny, smug smile to overtake your lips when the door swung dutifully open. You slipped inside. The sheer height of hundreds of rows of bookshelves made itself known, and you let out a tiny ‘oh’ of astonishment. A library. The most beautiful one you’d ever stepped foot in, at that; even the House of Daena with its towering arches and marble couldn’t compare to the soft, weathered charm of this place, all hand-woven rugs and big windows framed by velvet curtains, plush armchairs and an array of tasteful stationery littered across every surface, cream paper and deeply coloured quills and ebony ink. You stood frozen in the doorway, taking it all in. If only you’d discovered this place long ago. A quick inspection of the books on the shelves revealed a myriad of genres and topics, even a few analyses bound in leather of subjects you’d itched to study but couldn’t because they were forbidden by the Akademiya. You glanced furtively around. Silent as the grave. Before you could lose your nerve, you quickly began pulling tomes from the shelves and stowing them in your leather satchel; surely no one would complain if you borrowed a few until the next time you could visit this miraculous place. Looking back, you were appalled by your own bravado.

“Oh? And what have we here?”

You froze, a book on the intricacies of destroying Visions halfway in your satchel. Oh, curses.

“Nothing but a curious student, sir,” you replied as smoothly as you could, turning to face the owner of the voice: a well-groomed man dressed entirely in black, from his raven hair to the shimmering jewels studded on the high collar of his shirt. Nauseatingly wealthy, that much was obvious from the fineness of the fur he wore and what seemed to be a diamond ring on his finger. The part of your brain that wasn’t panicking at being caught wondered if he’d let you test whether it was real or not; a simple and visually pleasing procedure to determine the refractive index was all it would take.

The stranger picked at his gloves, watching you over the rim of a rather excellent pair of glasses (you could tell from the set of the lenses in the frames; seamless as the door you’d unlocked to get into the library.)

“Really, now? A thirst for knowledge is all that drove you here, then?”

You swallowed nervously. Just how would you get yourself out of this predicament?

“The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help but wonder what might be inside.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And how did you manage to open the door all the way?”

You bit back the smug smile that was threatening to appear. Best to downplay yourself so as not to seem too clever; a man this rich would obviously be powerful too, and nothing good could come of revealing your assets to him.

“I don’t know, sir,” you replied, injecting as much cluelessness into your voice as you could. “I just pulled it open. My apologies for intruding, it wasn’t my intention.”

“That would be believable if I were just a touch more foolish. Unfortunately for you, I’m not convinced by your innocent act.” He smiled. “At all.”

Rich and intelligent. What a bothersome combination.

“I suppose my only defence is that I was unaware this was a private library,” you conceded, re-shelving the tome. The wistful look in your eyes as you did so was quite amusing, he thought.

“And how do you plan on earning my forgiveness?”

“What are my options?” You countered without missing a beat.

Hm. Not bad, he thought approvingly.

“Why not introduce yourself? I’d quite like to know the name of the thief who knows how to break into a library I thought impenetrable.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed, and fidgeted discreetly with your gloves.

“I wouldn’t call myself a thief, sir. I fully intended on returning these once I had read them,” you protested, then gave him your name. “I’m an apprentice of the Doctor’s.”

Subtle realisation dawned on the man’s face.

“Oh, I see. The infamous ‘Trixy,’ no?”

“That… is indeed the nickname Lord Eleven insists on calling me by.” You were going to kill him, you really were.

He smiled. “I thought Dottore was exaggerating when he referred to you as ‘overly cunning.’ It looks like I was wrong.”

You frowned slightly at the casual use of the Doctor’s name. Archons. Just my luck, being caught nicking books from a Harbinger’s library.

“I am the Regrator.” Reaching towards you, he took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, sir- my lord,” you replied, flustered by his greeting and your mistake. “Truly an honour. Allow me to once again extend my apologies for imposing myself on your property.”

“Not to worry, one apology was quite enough,” he replied with another smile. How quickly he changed his tune; a moment ago you were quite worried he’d do much worse than throw you out, but now he was all class and geniality. These two-faced Harbingers really would be the death of you, forcing you to switch between subtle defensiveness and gracefully accepting compliments.

“I’ll see myself out,” you said, breaking the impending silence. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“No, no. Stay, I insist. In fact…” He took hold of your shoulders and steered you towards the fireplace, nudging you into a chair. “Why not take a seat? If my memory serves, today you’re to receive the requests forms, is that right?”

He grinned, satisfied, when you nodded in confirmation.

“Lovely. Tell me what it is you were going to have brought to the palace, and I’ll ensure its timely delivery.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.

“And what do you gain from providing me this assistance?”

“Your favour,” he replied promptly, so matter-of-fact that you thought you’d misheard. Well. If he was going to take the first shot and be such a flatterer, then you could certainly play along.

“Why, you’ve already gained it by extending your cordiality,” you said, lifting a gloved hand to your mouth to hide the grin threatening to overtake your features.

Regrator laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The flickering glow of the fireplace threw the planes of his face into sharp relief, all razor-sharp angles that could cut through diamond. Unsettled, you took to pulling at the fingertips of your gloves for a moment’s respite from his eerie black gaze, glinting like the surface of a bottomless lake at night. Maybe, just maybe, masks were preferable.

“You’re something of a smooth talker,” he remarked. “Perhaps I’ve met my match.”

“I couldn’t hope to live up to your articulacy, my lord, though I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be so humble. I understand that you’re quite the genius in your own field, no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Whatever gave you such an impression?”

“It’s not often Dottore goes larking about others’ intelligence,” he replied with equal amusement, watching the swirling clouds of snow outside the stained glass window. Now that caught you by surprise. Surely the Doctor, legend of the Akademiya and one of the arrogant men you ever had the displeasure of meeting, wouldn’t bestow you with such praise.

“I’m clever enough to get by,” you settled on saying, fingers itching to check your pocket watch. It had to be late, but the Regrator imposed a strange aura that compelled you to follow what little etiquette you knew of. The moment you realised this, however, you made a point of taking your watch out and checking the time. The only nonsensical rules you would allow to influence your behaviour were those that could eventually be explained; the laws of science.

“Terribly humble,” he murmured, repeating his previous statement with a touch more gratification.

“It never pays to be egotistical without good reason,” you concluded, making to get up. “It’s been a pleasure, my lord”-

“Sit, sit,” he said firmly, cutting you off. “You won’t have time to submit the request form now,” he pointed out. ‘You might as well stay and tell me what it is you need so I can take care of it.”

You cursed softly under your breath. He was right, unfortunately, and you really were in dire need of several necessities. Resignedly, you sat back down. The Regrator’s pleased twitch of his lips didn’t escape your notice; clearly he’d planned this out. Sneak.

“Much obliged,” you muttered, not without a healthy amount of resentment you didn’t bother hiding.

“But of course.”

He stared at you expectantly, that maddeningly unbothered half-smile never budging from his lips. You bit back a sigh. Best get this over with.

“Well, for starters, I need at least seventy grams each of qingxin, violetgrass, mourning flowers and lumidouce bells. Oh, and ten grams of sunsettia seeds. Other than that, one kilogram each of copper, crystal marrow and white iron, and as many chaos devices and spectral husks as you can afford.”

“That sounds similar to Dottore’s usual order, yes,” he mused. “But forgive me for asking… why the sunsettia seeds?”

“Sunsettia trees can be coaxed into growing under very harsh conditions, and I happen to quite like the fruit,” you answered with a shrug.

The half-smile widened just a touch.

“I see. Everything else on your list seems to pertain to laboratory work. Are you certain you won’t require any… more personal items?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Although, the doctor did say you would know why I didn’t receive the standard uniform for Fatui recruits,” you added as an afterthought. He blinked, as if caught by surprise.

“Why, it’s quite simple. You’re not considered a recruit at all.”

You stared unabashedly at him. “What?”

“It’s true,” he continued, toying with the fine silver chain of his glasses. “Your file simply has 'scholar' written as the rank.”

“How ambiguous,” you bit out, dragging a hand down your face. For all their bluster and pomp, you’d decided that the Fatui were a ragtag group of disorderly misfits with no sense of how to run such a large and influential organisation. ‘Rank: Scholar? Seriously? Keqing’s voice in your head pointedly asked if you thought you would me more up to the task of filing accurate records on thousands of people. You mentally grumbled.

“Quite fitting for a mysterious person like you.”

You lifted your head to shoot him an incredulous glance. “Yes, absolutely, my lord,” you muttered sarcastically under your breath. “My every action is so veiled in mystique, I can hardly see a metre in front of me from all the smoke and mirrors.”

The Regrator chuckled quietly.

“Clearly you understand that brevity is the soul of wit.”

“Just bursting with wisecracks, my lord,” you deadpanned. “It’s time I should be going.” Rising from your chair, you cast a longing glance across the library. “…Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for permission to visit your library now and again?”

“Permission granted,” he conceded with a nod and twinkle in his fathomless eyes. “You’d be a welcome guest at any time.”

With a grateful ‘thank you’ and a brief smile, you hurried out of the secret door and back to your dorm.

As far as you were concerned, morning had yet to begin if it was almost noon. The sky was completely clouded over, not a glimpse of the tenuous blue visible through the layers upon layers of cottony white. In your professional opinion, if the sun wasn’t visible then the day hadn’t even started; hence why you were still in bed savouring your only day off of the week.

With a contented sigh, you pulled the blankets up to your chin and settled in a more comfortable positon, the battering of the wind against your window and the distant crowing of ravens forming a lulling symphony. Sleep was just around the corner.

A crash startled you out of your pleasant half-awake reverie, the suddenness of the movement quite effectively acquainting your skull with the wooden headboard. You muttered a string of curses, electing to ignore whoever had the unparalleled audacity to make such a noise and go back to sleep. The intruder wasn’t as agreeable about your plan, unfortunately.

“Rise and shine, Trixy!” An all too familiar voice rang out. You groaned and buried your head beneath the covers. Maybe it was a hallucination that would disappear if you ignored it. Hallucinations weren’t tangible, however, but Childe very much was, judging from how he shook your shoulder and prevented you from slipping back into your slumber. You made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away.

“Heavens’ sake, Childe,” you rasped, curling up tighter and willing him to go away. The use of his name rather than a snidely bit out title, or worse still, just his rank, gave him pause. You congratulated yourself on managing to shock him long enough to allow yourself to settle back into the mattress. Not even a moment later you felt a freezing pair of hands grab your ankles and pull.

“H-hey!” You kicked and thrashed, but Childe just laughed and tugged you out of bed. You could’ve sobbed. “What do you want?” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Awww, it’s almost as if you don’t want me here,” he said with a pout, watching you rub your eyes and push the hair out of your face. You were softer around the edges like this, he thought, hackles lowered slightly and the suspicion in your eyes worn away by sleep.

“You’re slow on the uptake, but know that I’m proud of you for finally coming to a correct conclusion,” you deadpanned. “Now tell me what’s so bloody important that you saw it fit to wake me.”

He grinned brightly. “It’s your day off, isn’t it? I wanted to take you to the city!”

You opened your mouth to snap out a scathing retort that would probably have him leaving the room in a huff, then closed it again. He looked so hopeful, all wide eyes wrinkling at the corners from the wideness of his boyish grin. You wanted to kick yourself for going so soft on him.

“Alright,” you conceded. “Let’s go to the city.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist: @shikanosn, @viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist then just send me a message!! in a similar vein, if you want to be mutuals then dm meeeeeee

152 notes · View notes