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itsoutrageouss · 2 years

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Can you do an Eddie x reader angst where reader is a cheerleader that has a MASSIVE crush on Eddie. She asked him out but because she’s a cheerleader he thinks it a joke and mocks her etc

a/n: hey sweetheartss- thank you so fkn much for all the love on my last Eddie post. This is sorta similar but a different scenario- hope you enjoy <3

warnings: kinda mean!eddie in the beginning obv, reader feeling humiliated, super mega fluffy cute ending!!!!

Nice fucking try - e. m.

—☕️

He was never at any of the games- which fair enough, why would he be?

Yet you couldn’t help the disappointment when you scanned the crowd for a specific mop of curls with no luck. You had practiced the fuck out of this routine and yet no one would probably be looking at you- they’d all look at chrissy instead.

It was like this often. You’d search for Eddie, and when you finally caught him, you’d sit and watch his sporadic movements and tales, admiring him from afar. He had sent a couple of sweet smiles your way; that was your only lifeline to him and you being a possibility. You were a cheerleader after all, and you knew how the basket team treated people like Eddie. You knew he probably thought the same of you but you were aching to prove him otherwise.

You had to do something about the way your heart was on fire for him, a bird beating itself to death in a cage, a moth around a lamppost- you couldn’t keep letting it burn until there was only ashes left.

You knew he had his usual hellfire club meeting today, and suddenly the routine you were doing was the least of your concerns- you even stepped on someone’s toes in the process but it didn’t matter. You were going for it. You were gonna give him the sweetest smile and the most sincere smile and ask Eddie Munson on a date, no matter what any of your friends thought. No matter to what depths your social status would go. You would risk it for him, you were head over heels after all.

After changing quickly while ignoring the annoyed look from your friends ‘cause of your routine slip up, you hurried to the hellfire club room.

Rocking back and forth in your converse, you leaned against a locker while fiddling with the strap of your gym bag. No sooner did the door fling open and several members left the room, mainly ignoring you or giving you a suspicious side-eye, except Mike who waved to you, since you knew Nancy. She was one of the few people who you trusted with your feelings about Eddie. When all had left, you stepped inside to see Eddie packing up from the campaign.

You didn’t say anything, heart suddenly in your throat and palms sweaty. The fabric of his white t-shirt was stretching over his back and he reached over the table, not yet noticing your presence.

“Eddie?” You asked softly, but he still jumped at your voice, a few dices clattering to the ground. The room was ominously lit, casting amber shadows over his pretty face.

“Uh, yes?” He asked slightly confused- suspicion already bleeding from his tone. He picked the dice off of the floor and continued to pack everything away while you stood.

“I uhm- well I don’t know if you know my name-“

“- y/n, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, not seeming particularly interested in what you had to say. You tried not to let it defeat the courage that had etched into your skin, dripping on your tongue.

“Was it a good… campaign?” You asked with a weary voice. You had secretly picked up a little starter guide to the dice game Eddie seemed so passionate about, to try and understand him better.

He scoffed. What kind of fucking foolery was the jocks up to now?

He didn’t even bother replying, knowing that wasn’t the reason you were here, was probably a fucking trick question already. You cheerleaders were like little heathens.

When he didn’t reply you felt your face flush in embarrassment- had you said something wrong?

“Okay well uh- I was wondering if,” you stuttered, fumbled over all your words as you kept fidgeting with your bag. The bird in the cage surely almost done for. The moth was growing tired.

“- if you’d like to do something with me sometime? Like hangout? On- on a date or something like that?” You asked. Your voice was breathy and the words came out a lot faster and unsure than you would’ve liked.

Finally he diverted his attention to you, his figure turning torturously slow, a finger raised in the air in front of him. “You’re asking me out?” He asked incredulously. He didn’t believe they would try such an old trick on him.

“Nice fucking tryyyy Princess,” he said loudly, voice dragging out the words- in case any of your friends were on the other side of the door laughing their asses off.

“What, you’d take me out to a nice dinner, laugh at my jokes and let me take you home to my scrappy little trailer? Is that what you want?” He laughed humourlessly, tongue rolling around his cheek while he stalked towards you.

“I- I mean that sounds fine to me?” You tried, voice more unsteady than ever. You couldn’t tell what was happening but the bird and the moth were lying helplessly in your heart and hot tears tickled the corners of your eyes.

“That sounds fine to you? I’m not falling for this shit, little witch. Run back to your friends, will ya?” He didn’t even spare you another glance as he finished cleaning the table and flung his leather jacket on.

You stood motionless, throat bobbing in an effort not to cry. He hadn’t just rejected you, he had completely misjudged you with no after thought- discarded you because of prejudices. You stormed out of the room with a horrible mix of rage and shame washing over you.

—☕️

“Something sick happened when all you little sheep left hellfire yesterday,” Eddie began as he placed his lunch tray drown dramatically. He glared over to the jocks table, surprised to instead find you sitting alone, sulking.

“What’s up?” Dustin asked curiously, biting into his apple.

“Little miss y/l/n tried to ask me out yesterday. Tried to humiliate me- but this mighty fucking game master didn’t fall for it,” he said almost proudly, digging into his lunch.

“Woah she asked you out? Was that why she was outside hellfire?” Mike said, voice borderline serious in a way that caught both Dustin and Eddies attention.

“Yes, so? Was expecting me to waltz right into that little trap,” he scoffed.

“Y/n asked you out? Dude she likes you! Seriously- I heard Nance and her talking about it a couple weeks ago in the car. She’s like over the moon for you, man.” Mike gestured around wildly to punctuate his words and their meaning.

Eddie stopped eating instantly, whatever was in his hand clattering to the tray as he looked over to your hunched figure again- head down, not eating, not talking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- please tell me you’re joking kid.” He tried desperately, looking between Mike and Dustin who didn’t waver at all. “Nope. No joke. Can’t stop talking about you I swear.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands.

A pretty, nice cheerleader had asked him out- had a fucking crush on him and he mocked her like that? Scared her away? The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks as he dragged his palms over his face and through his hair, reliving the whole experience yesterday; how nervous you had been, how you asked him about this campaign.

Before his mind could prepare him more, he jumped from his seat and ran through the cafeteria, nearly stumbling and drawing all eyes to him as usual.

You looked up, throat twisting into knots as you saw Eddie sit, literally, on his knees on the floor next to the bench where you sat in your solitude.

“Y/n-“ he said, almost out of breath. His eyes were so big and soft, so pleading and glossy, it touched your heart despite the way he broke it yesterday.

“Y/n I’m so sorry. I thought you were messing with me yesterday. Thought it was some kind of joke from your friends or- I didn’t- I didn’t know you meant it but Mike-“ he breathed again, pausing. Everyone was looking at the two of you, your eyes wide at his hasty, guilty confessions.

“Hey, hey-“ you said, placing a hand on his shoulder “-lets uh- go somewhere else, hm?” You tried, standing from the bench. He swallowed loudly before looking around.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he breathed. When he looked at you then, he swore there was a gleam of something in your eyes.

It was hope.

You took his warm hand and dragged him out into the hall, ignoring the mocking from where your former friends sat. Where you used to be.

Eddie stuck his tongue out devilishly as you passed them before disappearing into the silent hall with you.

“Hi,” you said then, a soft smile splaying on your lips. It made Eddie’s insides flutter, knowing you were being genuine.

“Hey,” he replied with a huff, a broad grin adorning his features now too.

“I’m sorry-“ he began again but you cut him off quickly; his dramatic cafeteria gesture was enough of an apology to you, and you couldn’t even blame him for thinking like that with you being a part of the cheer squad.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know I don’t seem like the type, but I promise you I- I think I really like you,” you confessed nervously, eyes darting around the tile floor “and I’m not friends with those dickheads anymore. Swear.”

The bird was beating around the cage, wilder and wilder and the moth dances excitedly around the bright burning lamppost.

“So the offers still- its still on?” He asked hopefully. You couldn’t possibly resist those puppy dog eyes he flashed you, the way his hands fidgeted with the rings adorning his slender fingers.

You nodded eagerly, not daring to believe any of this was really happening. “I’m not much for dinners, though” you added. He laughed. A warm sound you could see yourself getting very used to.

“Me neither. We’ll figure something out, hm?” He asked rhetorically, head tilting to the side to peer down at your hopeful face. Your expression made the guilt from yesterday wash away from his conscience, albeit slowly. God you were gorgeous, and he had half a mind to believe he was dreaming in this moment.

“It’s a date, then.” You stated. Before he could reply, you raised to your tiptoes and kissed his cheek gently.

A furious red blush crept up on his cheek and neck, his lips parted in surprise.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s uh- it’s a date,” he smiled, flustered as he squeezed your hand.

So damn gorgeous, he thought.

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lixiepixiedust · 5 months

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friends

pairing — badboy!felix x fem!reader; highschool au; friends w/ benefits

word count — 3.1k words

warnings — she/her reader, they argue way too much in this, jealousy (both ways), felix is kinda aggressive, uses of korean names, suggestive, small make out, almost sex

summary — you and felix have been friends with benefits for far too many months and everyone knows you secretly like each other. when mutual jealousy arises, you too get into an argument that makes your feelings way too obvious its silly.

"Y/n!" A boy in your year approached you with an eager expression. His name was Juwon, and you two have talked a few times in Chemistry class. He was nice, super weird, but nice. You still tried to avoid him when could since being around him was often draining.

You chuckled awkwardly, "Hey, what's up?" you asked.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, lowering his voice.

"Sure," you replied with a forced smile.

"You know, Felix?" he blurted out quickly. "Are you dating him?"

Your smile faded as your eyebrows furrowed, "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know, I've just noticed you two walking home together and chatting in the hallways," he explained defensively.

"Are you stalking us?" you asked skeptically.

"No! I'm not stalking you," he clarified.

"Ok, this is kinda weirding me out," you chuckled, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I just see you two so often," he said.

You raised an eyebrow, still puzzled by Juwon's sudden interest in your relationship with Felix. "Okay, but why do you care if Felix and I are dating or not?"

Juwon scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um, the thing is, I sorta have a crush on you."

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that confession. "Oh," you said, not sure how to respond. You took a moment to process this information. It explained his odd behavior and sudden interest in your personal life. "Look, Juwon, I have to be honest too—I'm not looking to date anyone right now. I've got a lot going on."

Juwon nodded, disappointment evident on his face. "Oh, I see. Well, I guess I just wanted to know for sure. Sorry if I made it weird."

"It's okay, Juwon. I appreciate you being upfront about it," you said, trying to ease the awkward tension.

"Well, you know, cause you're not with anyone, I was wondering if, I could get your number, though?" he asked tentatively.

You thought about it for a moment. Despite his quirks, Juwon seemed like a genuinely nice person. "If you want it, you have to promise me it's just as friends," you said with a small smile. "I hope you understand that's all I'm looking for right now."

"Nevermind, then," he replied, a bit crestfallen. "Bye, Y/n."

After Juwon left, you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and sympathy for him. You gathered your things and decided to take a break in the hallway. As you walked towards your locker, you couldn't help but mull over the recent encounter. The hallway was relatively quiet, and you leaned against your locker, staring absentmindedly at the passing students.

As you were lost in thought, contemplating the conversation with Juwon, you suddenly heard familiar laughter approaching. Turning your head, you saw your boy best friend, Felix, walking down the hallway, engaged in a lively conversation with a girl who's name you completely forgot. They seemed to be getting along well, laughing and sharing jokes as they walked.

A strange sensation gripped your stomach, a mix of surprise and discomfort. You didn't expect Felix to be chatting so animatedly with another girl, and for some reason, it made you feel a twinge of jealousy. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the irrational feeling. After all, you and Felix were not dating yet, and you had no right to be possessive or jealous.

Felix looked up, and his gaze met yours. That familiar smirk played on his lips as his flirty eyes eyed you up and down, assessing you. You couldn't help but clutch your bag. You gave him a small wave, matching his energy, but he then continued his conversation with the girl beside him.

As you turned away from Felix, trying to shake off the strange feeling in your stomach, you unlocked your locker and gathered your homework and textbooks. With a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself before making your way to find, your bestfriend, Chaewon.

Spotting her not too far away, you weaved through the crowd and approached her. Chaewon's eyes lit up when she saw you, and she enveloped you in a tight hug. "Y/n! How's it going?" she exclaimed.

You returned the hug, grateful for the comfort of a friend. "Hey, Chaewon. It's been a bit of a day, to be honest. How are you?"

"I'm great! I'm ahead on all my work. Come to my locker, tell me everything."

You nodded, and you both made your way to her locker away from the bustling students. You stood beside her as you shared a bit about the encounter with Juwon and the unexpected interaction with Felix and the girl.

Chaewon listened attentively, concern evident on her face as she closed her locker. "Sounds like a lot's happening. You know, guys can be so confusing sometimes. Maybe Felix was just being friendly with that girl, you know, like how he is with everyone? You two have been fucking for like months, there's nothing getting in your way."

You chuckled nudging her playfully. "I'm not worried about that." you lied.

As you continued chatting, Chaewon suddenly looked past your shoulder, her eyes widening slightly. "Hey, speaking of the elephant in the room," she said, pointing discreetly behind you.

You turned around, and indeed, Felix was leaning against a nearby wall, observing the two of you with a playful smirk on his face. Your heart skipped a beat as you caught his gaze. "Hey, Y/n." he called, strolling over with a confident stride.

Chaewon shot you a knowing look before excusing herself, purposely leaving you alone with Felix. "What's up, Felix?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

He leaned against the locker beside you. "Just wanted to see you. How was today? We didn't have time to talk at all."

"Yeah, um, nothing else besides Lee Juwon asking if we were dating," you admitted, avoiding eye contact with Felix.

Felix raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You sighed, "I don't even think I gave him an answer after all. Then he told me he liked me."

Felix remained silent for a moment, his jaw tensing. "Juwon has a crush on you?" he repeated, his tone more serious than before.

"Yeah," you continued, "he asked for my number, but I made it clear that I'm not looking to date anyone right now. I just wanted to be honest with him, cause I would've told him we weren't dating."

Felix's expression shifted, a subtle disappointment flickering across his face. "Oh," he said, his usual playful demeanor momentarily subdued.

"Yeah, sorry if that's not what you were expecting," you added, feeling a bit uneasy about the whole situation.

Felix leaned back against the lockers, running a hand through his hair. "No, it's cool."

You nodded, appreciating his nonchalant response. "I mean, we're just hanging out, right?"

"Right," he said, though there was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite place.

After a moment of silence, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been bothering you. "By the way, who was that girl you were talking to earlier?"

Felix's expression brightened a bit as he remembered the interaction. "Oh, her? Just someone from my last period class. We started talking recently. She's cool." Felix nudged you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, though."

You tilted your head, trying to maintain your composure. "Oh, I'm not worried. Why would I have any reason to be worried?"

Felix chuckled, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Right, right. We're just hanging out, after all."

The mocking tone in Felix's words didn't go unnoticed by you. You felt a surge of frustration, but you tried to brush it off. "Exactly, just friends," you replied with a forced smile.

Felix's smirk widened, and he looked down at you, a subtle condescension in his gaze. "Glad we're on the same page, then."

Your irritation grew, but you bit your lip, choosing not to escalate the situation. "Yeah."

The tension between you and Felix lingered as the conversation continued. The casual banter that usually flowed between you two felt strained, and there was an unspoken frustration in the air.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you found yourself heading towards the exit with a mix of apprehension and determination. You reached the school gates and you noticed Felix a few steps ahead of you, also making his way out. The distance between you felt like a vast chasm, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite the silence, Felix glanced back and caught your eye, a momentary flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

When you stepped out into the fresh air, Felix slowed down, allowing you to catch up. He reached over and effortlessly took your bag off your shoulders to carry it for you, a gesture he had made a habit of since the beginning of your friendship. It was a small comfort, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that seemed strained at the moment.

The two of you walked side by side, the silence becoming almost suffocating. However, Felix's act of taking your bag spoke volumes. Even in the midst of frustration and unspoken words, he didn't want you to bear the weight alone.

"So, Felix, anything interesting happen with you today?" you asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness.

Felix shrugged, his eyes still holding a hint of irritation. "Not really, just the usual. Classes, hanging out, you know." He snapped sarcastically.

"Mhm," you replied.

The silence that followed was filled with an uncomfortable energy. You could sense Felix's annoyance, and you were growing increasingly frustrated yourself. It was as if the unspoken tension was bubbling just beneath the surface.

Finally, Felix broke the silence with a sarcastic chuckle. "So, you and Juwon, huh? Quite the love triangle developing here."

You rolled your eyes, irritation rising. "Don't be ridiculous, Felix. It's not like that. I told you I rejected him."

He raised an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. "Sure, sure. After all, we're just friends, right?"

You clenched your jaw, annoyed by his insinuations. "Yes, Felix, just friends. Is that so hard to believe?"

He leaned in closer, a challenging glint in his eyes. "Well, if we're just friends, then why do we-"

"Felix, stop." You interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

Felix sighed. "I was about to say: Why did it bother you so much to see me talking to another girl?" That was clearly not what he was about to say.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "It didn't bother me. I was just curious. That's all."

Felix's smirk only widened. "Curious, huh? Seems like someone's a little more invested than they're letting on."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "You know what, Felix? This whole thing is ridiculous. If you're going to act like this, maybe we should just stick to being actual friends and nothing more."

"Wait, I thought we were friends to begin with." Felix laughed which pushed your buttons even more.

The irritation between you and Felix continued to escalate as you walked towards the intersection where you two normally split up to go to your own houses after school.

Finally reaching the familiar crossroad, you stopped and turned to face Felix. "Give me my bag."

Felix crossed his arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, come on, Y/n. No need to be so uptight about it."

You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Felix, I mean it. I just want to go home."

He chuckled, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. "You know, you're being quite stubborn about this. What's the harm in hanging out a bit more? We're just friends, right? "

You sighed, feeling a mix of annoyance and fatigue. "Felix, we're not in the mood for this right now. Can we please just go our separate ways?"

But instead of acquiescing, Felix shook his head with a playful smirk. "Nah, I've got a better idea. How about you come over to my place?'"

The irritation reached its peak as you reluctantly allowed him to guide you in the direction of his house. "Fine, but only for a little while. I've got things to do."

Felix grinned triumphantly, his playful demeanor seemingly unaffected by the tension. "Deal."

As you and Felix approached his house, a familiar sense of comfort washed over you. You had been there countless times before, and despite the current tension between you two, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of happiness at the prospect of spending time in a familiar environment.

Felix swung open the door with his usual flair, ushering you inside. The air inside his house was filled with a mix of warmth and familiarity.

You had been to Felix's house many times before, and despite the current tension between you two, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the prospect of spending time there.

Reaching Felix's front door, he swung it open with a flourish, gesturing for you to enter. "After you, my friend,"

You stepped inside, the familiar surroundings evoking a strange mix of emotions. It was a place filled with memories of laughter, shared secrets, and casual hangouts. The familiarity momentarily lifted your spirits, and you found yourself slipping into a momentary sense of contentment.

Felix closed the door behind you, and you both made your way to the living room. "So, what do you feel like doing? Homework?" Felix asked, attempting to break the awkward silence.

You hesitated for a moment, still grappling with the unresolved tension between you two. "Honestly, Felix, I don't know why you insisted on dragging me here."

Felix plopped down on the couch, looking at you with a casual grin, ignoring your question. "Or..." he took your hand and pulled you onto the couch with him, "My parents aren't home, but that doesn't matter cause we're just friends hanging out, right"

"Why can't you let it go, Felix?" you retorted, your frustration reaching a boiling point. "I don't understand why you're so pressed about this whole thing."

Felix's anger suddenly bursted out of nowhere. "Because we're not just friends, and you damn well know it!"

His words hung in the air, the weight of the unspoken tension finally surfacing. Before you could respond, Felix closed the distance between you two in an instant. The sudden intensity caught you off guard as he slightly pushed your shoulders against the side of the couch, pulling you into a hot, angry kiss.

The kiss was a collision of conflicting emotions—frustration, desire, and a hint of desperation. Felix's lips pressed against yours with a fiery intensity, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words. The anger that had simmered between you two transformed into a raw, passionate exchange.

For a moment, you were suspended in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. The familiarity of Felix's touch, coupled with the undeniable chemistry, ignited a spark that had been smoldering beneath the surface. It was a heated kiss that spoke volumes, a silent admission of the unspoken connection that neither of you could deny.

The air crackled with the intensity of the moment, and for that brief instant, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist. The kiss lingered for what felt like an eternity, and as Felix finally pulled away, hovering over you.

Felix's eyes bore into yours, looking down on you. "Do friends make out every week, or is that just us?"

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, the conflicting desire within you. "Just us," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"So, we're not just friends, are we?"

Felix, sensing the subtle shift, leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze that spoke volumes. Without saying a word, he traced a gentle path with his fingers along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath caught as Felix's lips latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and your heart raced in response to the unexpected touch. His kiss was rough, mirroring the unspoken desire between you.

Felix sucked on your neck, leaving a mark. It sent a wave of tingles through your body, and you couldn't deny the magnetic pull that drew you closer. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against your skin.

As Felix continued to explore the delicate curve of your neck, a mix of emotions flooded your senses—desire, uncertainty, and the undeniable chemistry that had always simmered beneath the surface. It was a moment suspended in time, where the boundaries between friendship and something more became increasingly blurred.

Finally, Felix pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of playfulness and sincerity. "Friends don't usually do that, do they?"

You took a deep breath, attempting to process the whirlwind of emotions that had just unfolded. Felix's eyes searched yours for a reaction, and a vulnerable tension lingered in the air.

"No," you replied, your voice dripped with lust.

Felix grinned, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I guess that means we've crossed the line ages ago."

He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned in for another kiss, the intensity of the moment still lingering. You reciprocated the kiss, but as Felix's hands began to wander up your skirt, you felt a surge of hesitation. Even though you two have had sex a few times already, you first needed to talk this whole thing out. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze with a hint of caution. "Felix," you breathed out, "Stop, slow down."

Felix's hands halted immediately as you pulled away, and he looked at you with an understanding expression. The room, once charged with a heated atmosphere, seemed to cool down as Felix maintained a respectful distance.

"Sorry," he said softly, catching his breath. "I got carried away."

"It's okay," you replied, your voice a bit shaky.

As the tension eased, Felix reached out to gently fix your hair, his touch tender and considerate.

Felix, with his usual playful demeanor, leaned back with a smirk, the glint of mischief in his eyes undiminished. "Well, that was unexpected of friends, right?"

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pepperkettle · 4 months

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k so slay the princess is rotting my brain but currently one big thought is chilling in my brain, and like- hear me out (sorry if my wording doesn't convey my thoughts well skskfjdjg)

but I don't think the damsel is entirely as shallow as some may see her as. HEAR ME OUT- compared to the other princesses, yes, she definitely more shallow. and she is also (at least when looking at deconstructed) poking fun at those trying to have an easy and work free romance route where the princess does whatever you like and loves you so, so much. i'm not saying she's supremely deep and that no one understands her but me, but I also don't think she exists solely to mock players with absolutely nothing to say about the nature of human permanence either.

does that make sense? more thoughts below- they're a bit disjointed though so warning ^^;

I personally think the damsel can also represent a very real form love, so to speak.

gimme a min to explain. I think what initially led me to this is a line from the narrator equating the smitten and the damsel to acting like teenagers in love. and that line sorta shifted my perspective a bit on her a little? seeing that kinda made me go "ohhhhhhh makes sense" like it really did remind me of two kids who don't entirely get what dating entails but still want to be together, and given the endgame sequence the damsel's section just kinda cemented this mindset for me.

for clarification the damsel has two(?) bits of dialog depending on whether she's deconstructed or not. If she isn't she says something along the lines of (iirc) "you had a desire and you set that desire free/not caring about what it took or costed you in the process" annnd?? like that's kinda wholesome to me?

like the damsel's love with the player isn't nearly as in depth, complicated, or complete as say the thorn, but it's a passionate love. it's also a naive love. the sort of love you'd find with, well, teenagers having a crush. of course when people get older they see those old crushes as frivolous and flat, but to the people experiencing them in the moment, it's real! it's serious! they were still willing to risk a lot just to be together. and at least at the start, you're willing to be killed by the princess if it means she's safe after having a battle of control against the narrator. it just reads as very human to me. they truly felt that their love could conquer anything.

I feel the thorn is a more 'adult' version of the damsel. it's that passionate love taking on a more mature form. it has more hardships to go through and way more pitfalls and mistakes that one can make compared to the more childish love like the damsel's. there's less theatrics and fanfare, and to me it feels more somber and quiet. it's a contrast between the high stakes emotion filled damsel, and the more intimate, tense, and self-aware thorn. ultimately in the end for both of them, they come to a realization that love is a powerful tool almost in a way that mirror each other.

some of the same occurrences leading up to the route are also shared between the two. like having the princess stab you in the prior route. I also think it's worth noting that in the thorn, the thistles can be seen as/can be referred to a prison of her own making. something she can leave if she was willing to make the effort to do so. it's similar to the damsel's shackles being easily slipped off her wrist. she could free herself.

also by extension, say what you will about the smitten but he loves the princess no matter what form she takes. even when she kills him he still adores her. he is content with being cooked alive by the princess if that's what she wants. i think he's a lot like the damsel in that sense. whatever she wants, she will have. if the damsel is molded to love the player, the smitten is absolutely molded to love the princess in the same way.

#ok that got really long #halfway through i realized the thorn and the damsel have a lot of parallels and my brain exploded sorry #i really love this game and have so many more thoughts but those need other posts :((#someday soon someday soon...#slay the princess #stp spoilers #slay the princess spoilers #♡ -> post time !

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harrywavycurly · 5 months

Text

Trouble Next Door Part 28: Trust

Masterlist: Here

TW: Mentions of divorce and cheating

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

A/N: Reminder this takes place as soon as Eddie gets home in part 27! There’s only two parts left and I just wanna say thank yall for being so amazing and showing so much love to this series also lowkey this kinda sorta made me wanna cry so…enjoy✨

“Oh look who decided to finally show up…” “uh hey Jim…I thought you’d be inside…uhm I’m uh kinda already running late as you…clearly already know so can we uhm maybe do this some other-” “I needed a smoke…but I think it’s best if we just get it over with now ya know? Just rip the bandaid off kinda thing.” “You’re not…carrying…are you?” “Jesus Eddie no I’m not carrying…I’m off duty tonight.” “Good..that’s good so uhm..what’s uh…what’s up?” “Relax kid okay?…I just want you to explain to me what’s going on here.” “Uhm well…I uh..I’m dating…her.” “Okay and?” “And…I love her.” “What else?” “What do you…mean?” “You love her…that’s great and all but why should that make me want to let you anywhere near her?” “I won’t hurt her Jim….you know me..I’m not like him.” “She’s been through hell Eddie…between the cheating and the actual process of getting a divorce she’s…she’s fragile right now and I won’t see her go through anything like that again do you understand?” “Yes sir…I understand…but come on…it’s me…I’ve loved her for pretty much as long as I’ve known her…I’m not going to do anything to make her regret loving me.” “I trust you Eddie…but if you make her upset for any reason…Wayne won’t be able to save you from me…you got that?” “Got it…can I uhm go…inside now?” “One more thing…those guys that she asked out…why’d they tell her no? Was that you or do I need to go kick some asses?” “I swear I didn’t tell them to say no…uhm they just…kinda didn’t want to get in the way…of her and I so they uh tried to turn her down…gently.” “Oh…that makes sense…everyone in this town has kinda been waiting for the two of you to get together.” “Well sorry to keep the whole town waiting…” “speaking of waiting..go on inside…she’s been a mess thinking you’d changed your mind about tonight…it’s your first time being together in-front of the group right?” “Yeah…we are kinda using this as an excuse to just let everyone know…we’re together now.” “I’m sure they’ll be happy for you two…now seriously go inside..oh and send Wayne out with ya? I owe him a smoke.” “Yeah I’ll send him out…” “and Eddie…I’m happy you two finally found your way to each other.” “Thanks Jim…I’m happy we did too.”

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bekaroth-reads · 6 months

Text

Ascended Astarion x Tav/ reader

Major spoilers ahead!!

[Well, sort of. A bit of an AU for the scene where Astarion turns Tav into his spawn. Sort of where even though Astarion chose to do the ascension ritual, glimmers of his long lost morality claw their way through. Could also be seen as an extension of the actual scene, like after it fades to black or whatever. Just as long as Tav is still alive and he is making them not so. Full discloser, I was watching the 1992 Dracula when I thought of this and sorta, kinda, allota, repurposed/paraphrased some lines from a scene from there. As per usual, I am using you and they pronouns for Tav.]

This was selfish. He knew this was selfish. And, yet, he did not care.

There had been very rare a time that he was never being selfish in one way or another, at least in his mind’s eye. Though the truth of the matter was not so black and white as he was telling himself these nights, once again he did not care. As far as Astarion could understand, after suffering for centuries that this new existence was his reward, his purpose even. After the turmoil, torture, the violations that Cazador had put him through, he had survived- overcame.

Enduring all of the painful pressure of his previous existence, Astarion emerged the brightest diamond glittering in the night. After scraping by in the in the dirt of his own grave, he was now ascending beyond anyone’s comprehension. Though he already thought himself all-powerful from the moment the ritual was finished, there was the pleasant surprise of feeling that power growing day by day.

The hunger for that power and more increased at the same pace if not faster, however. And, while at one point, a young, pale elf would have sworn off the process entirely, the newly matured vampire knew there was one certain way to assure his continued power- spawn.

Though there was still a part of his old self that felt bile rise in his throat at the very thought, as far as Astarion was concerned that old self was truly dead and gone, buried in that graveyard just outside of the city, and who he was now just happened to share a name with the poor sod. Besides, it wasn’t like he was a total monster. Even if he was, nothing he ever did could be worse than what Cazador put him though; he was convinced of that if nothing else.

The thing that seemed to give him pause. Astarion knew in his soul, in the heart of his long-dead, black heart, who he wanted- no- needed to be his first. It couldn’t be anyone else but his dear Tav.

He had been more than patient with you as he let you be sure that all the others in your sordid, little party were actually well off, or rather, as well off as some of them could be. But, he was ready for the next step, and you were willing.

While Astarion was more than proud of his work done freeing himself, he knew that you had aided him greatly. And, something else that he was certain of was that you were his, and he could not bare to lose you. The more mortal you were, the more of a risk there was of that happening. There certainly were plenty of things that could kill, or rather re-kill vampires, however they were fewer a father between. Besides, you would have him there every step of the way. One of the greatest ways to keep you safe was to never take his eyes off of you.

And yet…

Could he really risk putting you through anything remotely akin to what he had gone through?

Once he entered his new, lavish bedchamber, seeing you waiting for him like your whole world started and stopped with his very presence alone, he quickly decided he could. It wouldn’t truly be like what transpired between Cazador and himself. How could it be? Here you were, so ready, so willing. He wasn’t binding you to himself because he wanted to enslave you, not truly. Astarion simply could not think of a life with out his Tav; not any more. He was doing this because he…

This was no time for all of this… this… simply just all of this to be bogging down his mind as well as the mood. He banished the thoughts at least for the moment with a sly grin and hungry eyes as he sauntered over to the place where he had you kneeling before him. He pushed you down as a playful threat and means to lean himself over you. There were words, both of your usual banter, a playful nip or two around your body and then the air filled with the electrifying tension of bracing for what you both knew what was going to happen next.

There was another bite, this time a deep piercing of the skin at your neck. Astarion lingered, indulged in the first gush of your last production of mortal blood for longer than he planned to before sitting up just enough to look you in the eyes again.

“You have given me everything. Thank you.” He almost sang in a sigh before returning to his sanguine ambrosia from where he had opened your veins and punctured your flesh.

As he drank, it became more and more evident that you were fading, the loosening of your hold on him, the stilling of the fingers tracing the scars on his back being a clear signaling…

The scars on his back.

Something that no matter how he might try to distance himself from his old life, no matter how he tried to see them as a symbol of his newly found power, he still couldn’t block out how and why those runes were carved there. And, as if from those runes an elf, a poor young thing that was giving no choice centuries ago cried out in terror, in pain at the sight of himself, no, the monster perusing him now wearing his skin and damning another as he was once damned.

“No!” Astarion cried as he forced himself away from your neck, “I cannot do this to you!” He held your face gently, more gently and less possessively than he had in a long while and whispered, “Not to you, Tav.”

“Please. Do it Astarion. Make me yours. Forever yours.” You pleaded, words fumbling out of your mouth in your delirium, but all of the genuinely earnest.

“To do this is to curse you. Curse you as he cursed me.” Even in raw emotional outbursts, Astarion still couldn’t stand to spit out Cazador’s name, not even once more. “Curse you with me. I-“ Astarion was going to continue the thought, but couldn’t bring himself to. There were still many of his thoughts that he had not and perhaps never would verbally utter to another soul; not even to you.

His eyes soften in a way that you had never seen them before; there were so many emotions swirling behind them. The one that you saw surface the most even in your half-dead haze was guilt. A guilt that seemed to be battling against the animalistic hunger that he had been parading the rest of the night.

“I love you too much to damn you.” He was on the verge of tears, as if part of him didn’t want to fully go though with it anymore, and yet knew it could only fight the rest of him for a few moments more.

It was all the assurance you needed, however. The fact that he loved you was often displayed, but seldom spoken directly. And, if he did indeed love you enough to say so, to give pause no matter what every fiber of his being was telling him to do on the chance that you might regret asking him to embrace you into the life of a vampire spawn, then you knew that he loved you enough- that you loved him enough- that you both would need eternity to even begin showing the extent of it.

“Please.” You whimpered out, and it seemed like all you were feeling was portrayed in the single word as Astarion looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and the tension on his brow eased. There was a gentle kiss to the wrist that he had bitten earlier tonight.

As soft as it started, his teeth were quick to follow them once the coppery taste of your blood reawakened the more feral side of him. He did not bite your wrist again, simply used his teeth to scrape off some dried blood while his fangs decorated your skin with welts. One more kiss goodbye to your pulse, and he moved to your neck once more.

“As you wish, pet.” Astarion purred and imbibed once more until you were limp in his arms.

Asterion knew that when you woke again, you would have many questions. One that he would deny even knowing about was his show of weakness tonight. If he was going to procure and rule his domain there was no room for frivolities. Well, there would certainly be plenty of frivolities as he so desired and deserved, but the gentler feelings of life were not among them.

Then again, looking at your still, serine form waiting to start its new un-life, forevermore his, Astarion supposed that there might be a few times where he could make the exception; but only for you. Only for sweet, little Tav. His Tav.

#ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 days

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(tl;dr at the bottom)

this one is just petty, and i'm too much of a pussy to actually do anything (though my friends do say i absolutely should) but:

wibta for filing a complaint (?) against my table group for a class?

i take culinary for one of my classes, and it's one of the saving graces of my otherwise utterly shit high school experience. and while i do enjoy the class, i've recently been put in a group with people who do absolutely nothing and it's been frustrating me. for example, as of the day i am sending this, we made zucchini fritters. the dishwasher and i, the sous chef, did basically all the work and the manager and executive barely did anything unless we actively made them. i can understand the manager doing nothing, since their job is to basically just supervise the kitchen and they don't get to actually cook (worst role for me ngl) but the executive chef, who should be involved in the whole cooking lab, just sat around and watched. now don't get me wrong, i love the process of cooking and making stuff, but it's a little tiring when it's me doing most of the work while other people just grab their phones (they aren't supposed to get them until the lab is finished and the kitchen has been cleaned, for sanitary reasons) and idle about. anyways, the manager at least grated the zucchini while i worked with the green onions and garlic i guess, and during this the executive chef just kinda. stood there and watched? he always had earbuds in and i don't really know what he does, but i thought he'd at least be mixing the batter. he did not, and turns out he really was just standing there the whole time so i mixed the batter after i finished up with my veggies. while i was doing so, i also thought that they'd have put the zucchini in a bowl or a colander or something and started sweating it with the salt, but nope. the two of them just sorta went off to do their own things (stand/ lean against the counters and watch) and so i panicked and dumped the stuff into the nearest clean bowl, and i did manage to get the executive to salt it. then when it was time to squeeze the water out, it was again my job to do so, though i am currently missing about a quarter of my nail on one finger due to it snagging and ripping off. at this point, i think i should mention i have chronic back and joint pains and headaches, and i was starting to feel worse and worse, so i once again asked the executive to squeeze the water for a bit while i snagged a pain killer. when i come back, not even a minute later, he's just dumped the thing into the batter mix, instead of fully squeezing it like i asked him to. then he hands the thing to me and i mix it and then i have to fry it. by the time i start frying, all the other kitchens have finished, we have like half an hour till class is out, and chef puts on hell's kitchen for the class. me and the dishwasher (who offered to help throughout the lab occasionally. she's a godsend.) make them fry the rest (one fritter). while i did do the dishes after it doesn't count since it was as a thank you to the dishwasher who helped me. but other than that, it's like this for pretty much every labs except for when i'm dishwasher, and even then it's not too different since it just means i have to go back and forth between cooking and washing dishes.

i vented to a friend, who also takes a cooking class (catering) about this and he says i should email about it to chef. now this is where the question comes in. i don't feel good about reporting it to chef since i don't want to be a snitch. i, too, engage in listening to music and chilling, so i get the joy of doing these things. if i were to tell the teacher, though, they'd get in trouble for it and i don't think i want that. and i might be biased/ just cranky. last lab, which was hamburger and fries, the guy who was executive today threw away the fries because class was ending even though not everyone got their share of it yet. this instantly put him on the "i dont like this guy" list of mine, and on top of that, i was already feeling a bit cranky and gloomy since waking up, and it was only further worsened by whatever class cooked in the kitchen before my class, who leaves the dishes all dirty and gross every time without fail (specifically, it was all three pans sticky with grease and a glass mixing bowl encrusted with a white substance that set me off today) so i might just be being harsh on them. i usually enjoy getting to cook and actually do things, and thus i haven't had an issue with the lack of help from my tablemates (is that a word) until now, so this could just be me wrongfully directing my negative feelings to them and blaming them.

tl;dr: people in my group in culinary class do jackshit and make me deal with the brunt of the work except for this one girl, friend says i should report their asses to the chef

why i might be the asshole:

i was already cranky and might be just making them the subject of my anger and blaming them

i usually enjoy getting to cook anyways

i might be biased against one of them since he dumped potatoes before i could grab my full share

snitch

why i might not be the asshole:

should not have to do pretty much all the work and they get the same grade despite doing nothing

still have to do most of the work despite chronic back and join pains and headaches + injury

having to actively get them to help me is a pain in the ass since they just go right back to doing nothing after half assing whatever they were asked to do

sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i am bad at articulating my thoughts and the likes, and am currently being fueled by spite, pain, and caffeine.

(@sousanon so i get a notif when this posts)

#aita #am i the asshole

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

T. Zegras - Stand By Me

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader, platonic Jamie involved in one bit.

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s); general angst, the reader has an auto immune disease called lupus, one mention of blood, sorta-kinda-maybe smut if you squint.. but like.. not really.

I did some research, but because I didn’t want to cross any boundaries and be too wrong, I didn’t go into much depth over anything. I listened to too much Billy Joel while writing this. I’ve decided Billy Joel love ballads go well with Trev.

—————————————

Trevor Zegras as the world knew him:

The aggressive, egotistical, hotshot hockey player. Rough and tumble, always mouthy. The loud, constantly moving, big expressions and huge personality kind of guy.

Trevor as I knew him:

A kind, gentle, considerate boy. Who made sure he set my pill organizer out for me every morning before he went to practice. Who made sure we were always stocked up on prescribed lotions and ice packs. And would spring up from the couch at the first sign of a fever. And learned how to cook on nights when I was in so much pain I could hardly move.

It took forever to get officially diagnosed with lupus. Trevor had been there from the beginning, when symptoms first began. At first, we hadn’t thought much of it. I passed off body aches for period or ovulation issues. I assumed the rashes were allergic reactions, and the fevers were just random waves of California heat. We had been oblivious. When things got worse, I began seeing a doctor.

Test after test had been run through. I was prescribed various medications, some of which helped and others didn’t. But the ones that did help, never lasted long. Eventually, it got to the point that Trevor feared leaving me home alone. Especially on the days he would wake up, and I would be unable to pull myself out of bed. I hated it. He hated it. We feared the unknown.

As much as it overwhelmed me, I knew it overwhelmed Trevor too. All the road trips, calling me, feeling horrible for leaving and saying how he wanted me to call somebody at home if I needed them. He was scared, but it was knowing he wasn’t in control that freaked him out. I assumed that’s why he became so observant and vigilant when we finally did get a diagnosis. Because at last, he could control things. Not everything, but some things.

Trevor hadn’t been home the day I got the diagnosis from my doctor, but it gave me time to really figure things out on my own. I knew little about the autoimmune disease, and as much as I loved Trevor, I knew his endless questions would only overwhelm me more than this new information already did. So I did my own research, allowed myself time to process and cry. Come to terms, and eventually begin working on a game plan for myself.

When Trevor did come home, it was a process of sitting him down on the couch and talking him through it all with everything organized on my laptop. Trevor tried so hard to understand, but I knew it would be a lot of trial and visual learning for him. And I had been right.

“So.. so, this is what you have?” He pointed to the computer screen. I nodded. “And.. it’s permanent?”

“Yeah, babe.” Trevor nodded. He tried to understand. What did autoimmune mean? What was Lupus? Why did it have to have so many big words attached to it?

“So.. where does all the treatment start?”

“Do you have to take medicines?”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“We can still be together, right?”

“This is a lot.”

I answered most of the questions, at least the ones I knew answers to. The others I promised to answer when I knew what to say.

Trevor got so tense with himself when he was home. We used to be a pretty rambunctious couple, but after I got prescribed blood thinners, and the body aches got worse, a lot of that changed. Trevor became far more timid around me, and at first he was as gentle as a toddler when touching a newborn baby. I helped set the pace for what was okay and what wasn’t.

“T, lemme see that ribbon.” I reached across the living room floor. I tried to snatch up the red ribbon before his hand flew out to take it.

“Let me curl the ribbon.” Something I had always done during Christmases. But it involved open scissors.

“Trevor, it’s fine…”

“Yeah but.. what if you cut yourself? Just teach me how to do it.”

Outside and inside of the bedroom, we set paces together.

“Should I- maybe…” Trevor shifted, causing me to groan. Worst time to ask questions is when you’re already in somebody.

“Trevor.. you don’t have to be so gentle.” I reached up to rest a hand on his forearm. “Why don’t I take the lead this time?” He relented and turned us over. He feared hurting me even when he didn’t do much.

“I’ll be fine, okay? Just pay attention. I promise I’ll tell you if it ever hurts, or if something is wrong.”

I’d always told Trevor that he did extremely well, but he wasn’t perfect. I didn’t expect him to be. And accidents happened.

“Babe?” Sometimes the rashes simply broke out over night.

“Trevor, Shh.” I tried to roll away from him, but when his fingers ghosted over the irritated skin on my face, I gasped at the feeling.

“Fuck- T!” I scolded, my eyes opened immediately.

He hated when he felt like he messed up. I hated when I scolded him for things he didn’t mean to do.

“…I told Jamie you weren’t feeling good anyway, so he went out without us.” Trevor had been rambling for a while, both of us in the bathroom doing our own thing. He was busy grabbing an extra roll of paper towels from the cabinet under the sink. I was trying to brush my teeth. I attempted to step out of the way when Trevor harshly pushed the cabinet door shut, but the corner skinned my calf anyway. I gasped, and managed to choke on toothpaste in the process.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Trevor was frantic all evening over my leg, apologizing over and over. After we got the arguably minimal amount of bleeding to stop, he still peeled back the bandages every so often to make sure everything was okay. I had to tell Trevor we were wasting bandaids.

The days when I felt absolutely disgusted with myself were the worst. I hadn’t lost all my hair, but it certainly thinned. And I hated looking in mirrors when my rashes got so bad that my skin would crack and bleed. Showers became hell. Trevor started to take them with me more often.

“It’s okay, baby.” He ran his hands through my hair, never commenting on the tiny strands that would remain on his hands long after he pulled them away. I stood tucked into his chest, arms folded up between us, fully enveloped by him.

My flawless boyfriend.

“I know it irritates.” Washing my body was the hardest on days when the rashes were all over. The dry skin never took well to the water, even if it provided a momentary relief.

There were days Trevor wouldn’t even bother with a washcloth. He would put the body wash on his hands and run them over my body from top to bottom. It made me cry. I would never understand how one emotion caused him to completely shift his personality around me.

Love was a powerful feeling, I suppose.

Love turned Trevor from a rambunctious loud, abrasive guy. Into a completely devoted and caring man. A gentle, expressive, and considerate man.

“We’re almost done,” he whispered as he ran his hands down my legs, kissing the patchy skin on my calves and ankles. I found the rashes were always the worst on my ankles after I wore shoes for long periods of time. The tongues of said shoes always rubbed my skin uncomfortably. I had to buy longer socks to help with that.

After Trevor finished lathering my body in wash, he’d trail his hands back up and all over. Sometimes I was lucky enough to sit on the lip of the tub while he shaved my legs. Times when my body hurt too bad to stand very long, or even bend over, he offered to help. Those moments he often found it easiest to make jokes and cheer me up.

“Haven’t mowed the lawn in a long time, eh?” He mumbled with a cheeky grin as he knelt in front of me, pulling my foot up onto his thigh while the other hand reached for my shaving cream. I giggled and ruffled his wet hair. Sometimes I found his comments embarrassing, but he was a guy. He was bound to find the weirdest statements amusing.

“I love you so much, T.” I whispered while his nose was scrunched and his brow was furrowed, face inches from my knee as he tried hard not to cut it with the razor. Hands that used to pinch and gently smack me when he was teasing or play fighting. Hands that used to throw me around like a rag doll after I challenged him to a wrestling match, now so light and tender. Like I was fine china.

Trevor also learned that dab-drying worked better for my skin than rubbing the towel all over my body after showers. It got the job of drying done, but it was far easier on my body.

I loved the tactic, but what I loved even more was the little sounds he’d make while he did it. They always made me laugh. Trevor always found a way to make our abnormal routines funny or cute. He always wanted to distract me from the fact that our lives were different.

After he’d finish drying my body, he’d whisk me away into the bedroom and how I felt usually dictated what we did next.

If I was tired, we’d take a nap. In pain, he’d give me one hell of a massage. The occasions I ended up horny? Trevor fixed that too.

And through Trevor’s learning, Jamie picked up on things too. When Trevor was on road trips and I was stuck with Jame, I learned I could lean on him. He was always one call away when I needed him. Even if it meant yelling across the house.

“Jamie!”

“I’m coming!” His thudding and rushed footsteps always endeared me.

“Hey!”

At times he’d find me on the floor.

“Hey, what happened?” He rushed to my side, helped me up slowly, and assured himself that I wasn’t injured.

“Guess I just can’t walk today…” I mumbled, embarrassed. The joint pain was always the worst to handle when I needed to be active.

“Alright.. what do you need to me to do?”

I found that Jamie was still on the ‘what do you needs?’ While Trevor already knew seconds in advance. And Trevor was far more confident with my illness than Jamie was.

He’d often text Trevor on my bad days to let him know. He’d also sit with me on the couch, never too touchy, not wanting to cross any lines. But when we’d sit at opposite ends -watching anything on the tv- occasionally, he’d pull my feet into his lap and gently rub them or my legs.

When Trevor would return from those long road trips, he’d always see me and tend to my needs and profess his love, before asking if I needed new pills, or if I needed him to stop by the store for anything. He’d been a domestic disaster before I got my diagnosis. Now, he was one of the most domestic guys I knew.

“This is it? Everything on this list?”

“All the groceries we need for the week. Yup.”

“Okay.. did you ask Jamie if he wanted anything?” I smiled and nodded. We were always taking care of Jamie.

“The store bought cookies are for him. And the purple Gatorade.”

“Okay. I’ll be back. Then I’m making dinner.”

Those words brought a huge smile to my face.

“Can’t wait, Trev.”

Sometimes I would go with him, but only on days when I felt on top of the world. Usually I tried to spend those days going out, but Trevor was always afraid I’d overdo it.

On those good days when he turned out to be right, he never told me so, or shook his head or laughed at me. He’d simply welcome me home with open arms and a sympathetic expression. Because he knew how much I missed my normality. How much I missed my old life.

And often times when I dwelled too much on that, he was always there.

“You’re beautiful. And I love you so much. And I’m happy with where we are right now. I’m happy to look after you, and love on you, and I’m happy you let me stand by you.”

His confessions were often spoken whispers in the darkness of our bedroom at night. Or on the rooftop. He hated when I went up there alone, but he still found me there from time to time.

He sat behind me, pulled me against his back between his legs, and wrapped his arms around me.

“We’re doing this together. I’ve been here from day one, and I’m not leaving now. I’m already in too deep.” He smiled. His breathy laugh would make me giggle.

“I’ve already seen too much.” He added with a playful touch of horror in his tone. I reached behind myself to slap his chest. I knew he was genuine. I knew he loved me. And I hoped he would never leave me. He always told me he was there until our last days on this earth. Until we both ceased to exist.

“I promise I’m sticking around. Me and Jambo. But mostly me.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #Jamie Drysdale

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akunoniwa · 5 months

Text

Prying

AN: i feel kinda evil bc the ending is sorta abrupt but this shit was getting too long babes... unless?

Synopsis: In which you and Dottore discuss pet names in conversation at first, putting them to good use not too long after...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, Dottore finds your humiliation to be v irresistible..., use of 'master', 'daddy' (once! hear me out lmao), etc., mirror sex

WC: ~5.2k (she's long-winded, sorry, i think...)

You don’t understand the appeal.

As soon as you mentioned off-hand to Dottore that you didn’t understand why some thought it was hot to refer to their partners as ‘daddy’, he wouldn’t let you live it down. Not only did he find this addictingly humorous, but he also found himself curious… Perhaps you just never put it to proper use. Before you mentioned it, he didn’t have any opinions on the matter, let alone knowing it was a matter to begin with. But the fact that you were basically telling him that you would feel so degraded, so violated if you were to actually call someone this… He wanted to know, he wanted to weaponize this somehow, jokingly of course… He thinks.

“It’s just… Like, that’s how you address your father as a young child… Ya know?” You turned your head in the crux of your pillow towards him. You both lay in a leisurely type of bare, simply winding down from the day. Dottore had long set his book down, charmed by this topic.

“Well, wouldn’t it just… I’m not sure, darling… Some people are just so desperate to feel small, but I couldn’t tell you why or when it began. Sounds morbidly incestuous, to a degree.” You scanned his defined profile as he looked at the ceiling in thought, more committed to this investigation than you expected.

“Right? Like, why not ‘master’ or even… I dunno, someone not related to you?” You were waiting for this very reaction from him, a smirk pushing his fine smile lines to be visible.

“You never seem to call me any of those things…” Somehow the smirk dressed itself as a pout before your eyes.

“I– You never asked…? I don’t want to just randomly address you as something that might make you feel… Uncomfortable.” You must’ve forgotten who you were speaking to, a man who never seems to falter, a seasoned masochist. Even still, you stood your ground… In truth, the prospect of calling him anything other than his name simply embarrassed you, but you tried to keep that close to your chest in secret.

“I suppose you’re right.” He chose to respect your reasoning, “What if I asked?”

“Then I guess… If that’s what you like, I would do it.” You spoke matter-of-factly. In addition to the inherent embarrassment, you honestly found it hard to want to call anyone, any of those names, as you don’t usually give in that easily. This was something that only added fuel to his enduring fire, your playful resistance, the process of melting away your pride and dignity… All for him.

“You don’t even use my official title anymore. It’s almost funny, you’re the only one I like hearing my given name from, though usually, it’s only in here that I hear it.”

“Because you asked, you buffoon. You asked me to call you that because you told me you liked it.” You couldn’t keep a hold of your laughter any longer.

“Did I?” He remembers the day he did so, but found too much enjoyment in teasing you as he stroked his chin in faux thought.

“Maybe you should call me ‘master’.” Your giggles were running circles around the room.

“Would you like that?” He turned his head to you, his eye contact haunting you briefly, “Unlike a certain darling, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to honor your filthy little wishes.”

“I said I would!”

It was his turn to chuckle, his deep voice resounding gently above you like its own duvet, “But you’d be reluctant, as you just informed me. Unfortunately, I find it amusing when you’re out of your comfort zone because I can tell when you’re just being your shy, bratty, self. You’d tell me otherwise.”

“Then we can both be masters.” Your laughter caved like a burst dam, dying at the thought of how ridiculous that’d be.

His face was hysterical, lips pressed so hard they’d lost their color as he tried not to let his laughter free, “I don’t know how that’d work… I don’t think we’d get anything done. Would we both be on our knees or just in a stalemate of power stances?”

“Stop– Stop talking.” The laughter was making your stomach tickle, unable to stop as he continued the hypothetical.

He rolled on his side to face you completely, “If we’re both standing in the power stance, how would one bend the other over their knee? It’s a logistical failure, darling.” His hand snuck over to gather a tear from your reddened face as your giggles died down. Perhaps being a buffoon wasn’t so bad if he got to hear your true laughter emanate from your infectious smile.

“I’d say we fight for the title, but… You’ve told me in various ways how you prefer to be the loser in that situation.”

“Try it,” you suggested, “Just try calling me master once, I wanna know how it feels.” A delicate, mischievous smile still lounged on your face.

An opening unlike any other, he’d overpower you with what you thought would be your pedestal. The sounds of blankets shifting flooded your ears as he moved to straddle over you, his powder blue hair hanging in ornate waves around his face.

“Is this not cheating?” You placed your hands on his blazing chest above you, your eyes lingering on how his arms flexed to hold himself over you.

“Only if you tell me it is… Master.” He didn’t hesitate, his eyes a deep, sappy scarlet, “You make the rules.” He referred to you like this so languidly, so heavily as he awaited what you might do next.

“I suppose I’ll allow it… I don’t feel very masterly when you’ve got me caged like this.” You took a liberty only the one ‘in command’ would, experimentally pinching his raised nipples for a reaction.

His long lashes fluttered as if a moth were shaking off dew. God, he wished you’d never stop, but he didn’t want to say that just yet, “Wouldn’t a master simply… Take control?”

He bent his arms to allow for his upper body to lean into you, his lips, taut once more in his trademark smirk, nearing your left ear, “Or… are you already stepping down?”

He felt your right hand slide down his front, anticipating your touch to collide with his exposed length, unfortunately the only thing he couldn’t conceal. He was easily aroused by you, though he was discovering… Toying with you like this, almost a perfect balance of submission was making his body rage for you. His willingness to even think someone had the higher ground was only because of you, finding that… Maybe he didn’t mind being controlled by you. But what really riled him was the thought of that pretty word leaving your mouth, so exasperated, barely able to think about anything beyond him.

Your hand sunk slowly against his searing, rigid body, not surprised to find he was already hard, his cock pronounced as it hung over you. You’d debated on touching him or not, but something about taking him into your hand was addicting… Just stroking his length, pulling on him deliberately from shaft to tip, as if you had him caught on a leash of your touch.

His voice, no matter the words or sounds that he used it for, was the key to your demise, deep with an alluring timbre. Quickly your mind was reminded, that he is the Second Harbinger… People find this man to be deplorable and menacing, his voice is only heard making barbaric commands or bickering with other deplorable, menacing Harbingers. All for good, supported, reason. But here, on top of his usual stony tone, grew flowers through the cracks of his demeanor, pollinated as you stroked him. His lips were so close… His shameless, sodden groans fall right into your ear. He was effortlessly always in control, knowing how susceptible you are to him.

“Don’t you want to tell me what to do, Master?” You wanted to punch him as he whined this into you, though not without defiance, his tongue shocking the helix of your ear, a trail of ice left behind. He wouldn’t dare allow himself to miss how your breath lurched in your throat.

You responded with a harsh enough pull on his cock to only remove your hand altogether, “You’re too good at this…” Not that you could mind too much. You pushed his chest in a way to urge him off of you, to which he easily obliged as you both switched places. His length pressed against his lower stomach as you sat over him to grind your pooled wetness along the underside.

“How long do you want to play pretend, darling?” You felt his hips gyrate up into you ever so slightly, “You clearly cannot get out of your mind, too busy wishing I was taking over it.”

You thought for a moment, wondering how you could catch him off guard… How you could make him lose himself, even for just a second. Your uncertainty was making it difficult, “How about…” You hesitantly removed yourself from him to retrieve a toy from your bedside drawer, laughing inwardly, almost nervously at his impending reaction.

He wouldn’t mind what you brought, his intrigue piqued as you revealed your futile efforts to best him in his own game. Your choosing a dildo could mean a few things in this situation… Did you want to fuck him? Was he to watch as you fucked yourself? He waited with bated breath, already missing your heat against him.

You returned to your position, a buzz of pleasure shooting through both of you at the continued contact. He’d do anything at this point, just wanting to see how far you’d go so he could obliterate you equally and more afterward.

After briefly taking it into your mouth, you dragged the wet tip along the center of his front, all the way up to his chin, “Would you suck cock for your master?”

A foreign feeling, not unlike pleasure, barrelled through him as he saw the look he was waiting for in your eyes, “You’re asking me?” Chills trickled through his body, all the way up through his nose as a pleased sigh.

“Be good for me… All you have to do is open your mouth…” You strung him along, though he was too turned on to care, parting his lips to allow you to slowly push into his mouth. He could feel your legs tensing on either side of him, your clit throbbing against his cock as he did so… This was so good.

“I wanna see your eyes.” You weren’t so much dominating him but rather he willingly entertained you by playing along, this is what he told himself anyway. Looking into your soul as his lips clung to the rubber so sweetly, his dextrous tongue working with more enthusiasm than you expected… You didn’t think he’d look so pretty doing this.

Once his spit generously coated the dildo, you dragged it from his mouth, depriving his twitching length of your sopping pussy as you sat between his opened legs. Opening your own, wide enough that he could see the lustrous stage you’d set. You easily slid the dildo, gleaming with his saliva, into your beckoning cunt as he was made to watch.

Well played, he thought… You looked so beautiful as your cunt clung to the dildo that was just in his mouth, your contorted face making it evident that you simply wanted to be filled… Your pace was slow with purpose as you imagined him fucking you like this… He wanted so badly to be inside you, to hear your abashed, small, voice call him dirty things. You swore you saw his cock jolt with impatience.

His right hand lunged unhurriedly towards his sex, but you swatted it away, “You’re only allowed to watch.”

His lovely voice shaped as a threatening laugh met your ears. Threatening as in he’d let your antics wrack up to be used against you at the right time. His eyes were forced to shade themselves as he looked down over his toned torso, watching you intently. The only way you would be able to dominate him would be by his own hand… or cock. You had so many opportunities to learn from his example, though your mind was probably checked out at that point.

His movements to resist your words ceased, watching as you increased the pace of your self-assault, glorious sounds of your wetness snapping into his ears. His lower lip tucked between his teeth, your left hand playing mindlessly at the soft skin of his upper thigh… He couldn’t help but feel the fault lines of his heart threaten to burst at the lovely sight before him. It felt like his gaze alone was propelling your hand, the tension was caustic and heavy.

You brought yourself to the edge of your release, movements shaky as you caged over him like he’d done to you before. You only had to bring the toy to his lips for him to gladly collect your sweet, his moans, deeper than the Chasm, almost infusing with it as he did. He loved how your eyes branded him as you watched… Maybe you were learning something after all… How to adeptly destroy him, one glance at a time.

Setting the dildo aside, at this point, you just wanted to kiss him. His lips were glossed with a brew of spit and cum, but that only made it more enticing. Like leaves brushing against each other in a gentle breeze, your lips found his. His whole body felt particularly sensitive, your nips at his lips almost a tickle as you teased him. That is, until he captured your face between his hands, lifting his head to press up into you. It felt like the kiss had been placed into a kiln, searing and intense as he was exposing how much he just needed to have you. His heart attached to yours like jumper cables, reinventing what yearning felt like as his tongue swam against yours, disregarding aesthetics and grace.

You both were only left more of a mess than before. As you parted, briefly a salty thread of combined spit, like a spider web, hung between your lips before snapping silently.

His hands pressed down along your curves as if shaping clay, pausing at your waist. Your arms were growing tired, and you couldn’t keep your mind off the gravitational pull of your throbbing cunt, knowing how his cock merely sat in wait. You wanted to lay on his chest… For some reason, his grin only grew.

“Was it worth it? Do you feel transformed, master?” He batted at you with his words like a cat playing with its prey, knowing it was his turn, whether you decided that or not.

“You did well, darling.” You commented in a voice that mocked his own, causing you both to laugh in unison for the second time. Your head dropped in a forfeit as he squeezed your sides.

“Making fun of me, now… I see.” He clicked his tongue, returning to the program that he would see through to the end, “Go stand by the stool in front of the mirror.” He ordered as his hands dropped in time with a sensation of excitement in your stomach, starting with his interpretation of this act.

You obeyed, the kinetic flow of wanting to please leading you to where he directed. You were made to observe your naked body, though distracted when he approached from behind and sat beside you on the stool, “I want you to lay over me, your pretty ass perked for me.”

He could see a familiar gleam in your eyes that sent him universal, knowing you were following his every word like footsteps in snow. Bridged over his legs, his right hand found your plump ass as if it were a magnet, caressing your supple skin. You knew what his intentions were, though, bracing for how and when he’d deliver his first blow.

“Do you truly think, darling… That you’d be able to overpower me without me letting you?”

Whatever your answer was, he wanted to feel the recoil regardless, “You’d just tell me your submission was ‘playing along’ even if I did.”

His hand lifted but a few inches to collide with your ass cheek, gathering your flesh in his hand like a duvet, “It’s against your nature...”

You reeled in how he assumed his harsh demeanor so effortlessly, “Do you think the other Harbingers know you’d clearly bow to my will under your guise of controlling the uncontrollable?”

This clap to your ass felt more personal, making you wince as a squeak snuck out of your throat, “I don’t give a single fuck about those insolent boors. I’d not admit your curiosity in them, though you know I’ll just hit you harder.” Your eyes locked on his own in the mirror as he had well already caught onto your antics.

“So it goes… Perhaps I do wonder about them.” You pushed the topic over the cliff, the punishment he’d give could only really be a reward.

He tried to not allow his heart to be swayed by your taunts, “You think they aren’t familiar with your pathetic moans coming from my office?”

“If they’re anything like you, that’d only intrigue them further, I would think…”

Smack.

This time you gave him a moan of rejoice, growing addicted to the sting, his hand falling over the crest of your ass to explore your cunt. Your wetness overflowed to coat your clit as it threatened to drip, loving his aggression.

“Hmm… I’ve barely grazed your desperate cunt until now, and it seems you’re trying to insinuate something foolish. Then tell me, my sweet, insatiable, darling, what or who is it that you want?” His middle and ring fingers pressed into your soaked, petal-like lips, coaxing you to answer.

You were debating… Should you weaponize another man’s name to provoke him… It feels like foul play, as you really had eyes for no other madman but himself, he knows this well. But what if…

“You’re always hanging around that opulent-looking one with glasses… Pantalone, was it?” You chose to improvise listlessly with war anyway.

He gritted his teeth, eyes diverting away from you for the first time. He knew you were just trying to play the cards you had, God, he knew. But something inside could not prevent the inherent, possessive tendencies from making some kind of appearance. Of all the Harbingers, of course you’d choose Pantalone as your mode of combat. He’s such a duplicitous excuse of a man.

His two fingers plunged into your hole, he watched as the muscles in your back tensed, feeling your front wriggle over his legs, “I see how he looks at you, darling. He is so acquainted with wealth, he’s used to having everything available to him… He sees you with me and knows his ability to be conscious of his own existence will be compromised if he even thinks about touching you.”

His hand retracted to instead give your weeping clit a generous slap, the wetness enhancing the sound, then sinking back into you. His lithe fingers felt so dizzying as they paced against your spongy walls, how could you think of anything but that?

“Really, I brought it up because the thought of them seeing you like this turned me on, not because I want to fuck them.”

“Invariably, if they somehow saw me like this, you’d be the only logical cause… Look in the mirror, look at yourself.” His free hand slid under your face to push your cheek in the mirror’s direction, “Who are you bent over so pitifully for right now? It almost sounds as if you’d like an audience…” He noted where your eyes were as you followed his roaming hand at your backside, “Tell me.” He demanded, swatting your ass once more. He couldn’t chain back the grin on his face, waiting to see which title you’d attempt to christen him with.

You weren’t about to give in to what he wanted most, your pure humiliation…, so you opted to at least repay him equally, “You, Zandik… Master.”

“Really…” His fingers returned to your sopping cunt, more so as a reminder rather than a means of pleasure, “I think you know what I want to hear… I’ll give you another chance.”

Your face cringed slightly, though that wasn’t enough to disguise the way your hole clenched around his stilled fingers at the thought, “Fuck…”

He hunched down to ensure his words were clear, “You brought this up… It was eating away at your mind so badly that you thought it was safe to bring it up to me? It’s at the tip of your little tongue, darling… Your face is such a tender shade of red…” His hand pumped slowly into you, as if to lure it out of you with his feigned compassion, “Tell me, pretty baby, whose fingers are inside you right now.”

Your eyes looked to the supposed heavens for a moment, “I hate you.”

He scoffed sharply, “That sounds more in character… You’d be such a contemptuous little brat for me…” He gathered your hair haphazardly, pulling your head upwards, somehow amplifying his ministrations, “Go on, who’s got you bent at his will.” His tone was low though infected with his shit-eating grin.

“Fine– You… Daddy.” Your voice had almost entirely checked out. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave this position until you did so.

He laughed a riot right into your ear, though hissed like the snake he is afterward at the sheer pleasure of winning, maintaining his pace, “You look as if you could hurl, darling, but I don’t think I’ve felt your cute cunt clench around me quite so hard… You’re dripping down my fingers, I ought to make you clean this mess up.”

You whined as he increased his pace, egging you on, “That’s right… So fucking tight…”

In actuality, he didn’t care much for the pet name but rather just your adorable embarrassment, so he decided he wasn’t convinced, “Why not embrace it a little more…” Getting you close to the edge, retreating his hand only to prod at your lips, “Why not taste your humiliation, since you hate calling me ‘daddy’ so much? Hmm?”

You were shivering as the denied orgasm left you high, though not so much dry, taking his slender fingers into your mouth. Your tongue weaved between them so as to clean them completely, his eyes sharp, jabbing into your face as he watched. That feeling again, as if an hourglass had been flipped, all the blood rushed to his core as he fucked your mouth with his hand. When he was satisfied with your work, he slowly dragged his soaked fingers along your back to trace back down. You shook at the chilling trail it left.

“Hmm,” There was an arrogant triumph to his voiced sigh, “So sensitive, too… It drives me crazy, darling.” He moved to grip your waist, urging you off of him, “I wonder… Would you suck cock for your master?” His words wagged their fingers in your ears as he adjusted you to sit on your heels before him.

“And you say I talk shit?” You ran your hands flush up his parted thighs, observing how cute his folded tummy looked as he sat, watching you. His faint happy trail, the glazed plains of his pale chest in contrast to his florid, angular face. For a moment, he said not a word, realizing how desperately he required your touch, in any capacity. His cock leaned heavily to the side, as if in its last attempt of an exhausted taunt for your lips. Your hands closed in on him, his eyes fluttering as they gently pulled at his flushed length.

“I love it when you moan for me…” You mentioned as an aside before taking his swollen tip between your velveteen lips. His head fell back, and a groan, like a smoke ring, hovered to the ceiling.

His fingertips pushed their way through your hair, though with no other intent but seemingly to distract himself from losing himself too soon. He played with your hair almost domestically, petting you along as you took as much of his throbbing cock as you could. You could tell he so badly wanted to buck into your mouth, your hands gripping him at the pivot of his thighs and hips as he writhed… You wished he’d let you in on this kind of raw desperation more often, as this version of him played in your mind so sweetly.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck.” He’d never called you that before, but the sensation it conveyed in your brain felt as if your soul had fallen out of the window of your body. He had you where you couldn’t refute it, making you swallow that, too, without resistance, “I knew you’d like that…” He laughed wickedly despite his exasperated state, and it felt so good, “My good girl…” He almost sang it down to you the second time, making your chest waver, coasting your hands upwards against his tense torso. He untangled his hands from your hair, easily blanketing yours against his waist, effectively lulled by the lush of your touch.

His fingertips dragged down the stretch of your arms, over the horizon of your shoulders to round back to your face, causing you to pause in wait. Your eyes lazily gravitated up to his own, his face was tipped as he peered over his nose in his lecherous way, “Come here, darling, where you belong…”

Upon your standing, he twisted you around between his hands to face away from him, then pulled down at your hips to finally lower your pliant, sobbing cunt onto him. The friction of his firm chest against your back alone was tantalizing enough, his hot breath steaming your skin from behind making your body slack in his grasp. A hand left your side, gripping his length to align himself. The initial pleasure of his tip making contact with the magma that was your arousal against him was suffocating, your eyes heavy with refined lust, though you couldn’t tear them away. He lowered you onto his cock at a meticulous speed, so dreadfully slow, you swear you could feel his pulse. His groan of contagious desire shot through your spine as you watched him disappear inside you as he left you to sit completely full of him for his own amusement.

“Look at you, pretty darling, how you like to watch yourself take my cock so beautifully.” His wet lips played on your shoulder blade to leaf between his words, “How I wish this very image were branded into my mind…” Moving towards the crook of your neck, your head inadvertently swayed to the side to allow access, his hands forcing your hips to grind in his lap. His teeth brushed over the sensitive base of your neck, your shoulders raising as he teased your skin. You felt as if you were losing your grip on a certain aspect of consciousness, the way his thick length stirred inside you, brushing and shocking every nerve.

“Keep moving just like that…” He instructed in a whisper as his hands left to tend to your breasts, adding yet another layer of dizziness as he pinched and kneaded. He loved the way the soft skin of your ass brushed against his inner thighs, your cunt tied and bowed around his shaft so perfectly. He’d pause at your neck here and there to peek at your face, a delirious focus on maintaining your movements… Your precious sounds that now flowed shamelessly from your lips, he truly could never get enough of you.

You tried to lift yourself, needing to be properly rearranged from the inside out, but he halted your attempt, unraveling a whine, “I know, I know… My good girl has been working so hard…” His eyes fixated on how your slick literally overflowed, trickling down to his balls in a lewd stream. How you squeezed around him upon that name… It was too much for him to bear, “You really do like that, huh darling?”

“Mmhm…,” is all you could manage, your thighs twitching impatiently, an indescribable feeling winding up your body, “God, please just let me move.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, you sorry little thing.” He guided you to lift, your vision flickering at the sheer strength of the awaited friction, “Tell me more… How much do you want me to fucking destroy you?”

You gave in to his game, unable to resist, “So badly, Zandik, please.”

Finally, your hole just barely reached the precipice of his raging cock, holding you there, “I could make you cum just like this, giving you only what you barely need as you wished I’d fuck you right– Please what?”

“Fuck… Please, please fuck me, I need your cock… Please.” You squirmed as your voice was hoarse and almost unfamiliar to even yourself as you pleaded.

He slammed you down onto him easily, given how soaked you were, hardly able to wait himself, “When you’re this wet, I would think my cock is the only thing you need.” He talked both you and himself into oblivion, sticky slick between both his and your thighs accentuating the frantic collision of your bodies. His fingers were soldered to your waist, gripping you as he moved your body at his pace, watching as your breasts flailed rhythmically in his thrusts’ wake. He wished there was a way to consume the buttery noises you were making on top of him as his own bled into them.

You adored how his lips hung open, how his brows tensed upward as he exhibited both complete focus and abandonment, his mind devoted only to the way he fucked you in this moment. You found him infuriatingly handsome as it is, but to see him so breathless, his vast vocabulary reduced to exclusively vile taunts, he was utterly ethereal like this.

His lips curled up as you eyed him so intensely, forcing you off of him, the sudden vacancy in your cunt making you want to scream. He stood behind you, feeling up your front as he did so, “I can’t describe the feeling I get when you look at me like that, darling…” He turned you to face him, hastily stealing your lips for a kiss that dug into your chest like his nails did your back as he searched your skin hungrily.

Upon stopping, he moved to hold your chin in place, your face displayed in his hand like a gemstone gleaming in the prongs of a ring. His swollen lips were still close, his crimson eyes had a glow to them, almost, cascading a dense shadow of need over your features, “However I may call you, you will most importantly, always, be mine. …And I hope… I will always be yours, darling.”

#il dottore x fem!reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #作文

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inkluvs · 10 months

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fields of white clover

knight! steve harrington x fem!princess!reader

content warnings: time period discrepancies. cinderella reference kinda. royal au. steve is literally obsessed with you. hopper as a father figure. this is pretty much just world building.

summary: steve catches sight of you at a ceremony and finds you fascinating <3

a/n: posted 2 months or so ago originally (copy and pasting the original a/n bcos most of it still applies), i wanna thank @maddipoof for being my cheerleader n figuring out all of my incoherant thought with their super special decoder abilities <3 also @livingintheupsidedown ; @crappymixtape ; @ghostlyfleur ; @forevermoreharrington ; @theemporium ; and @beezywriting since they all read bits of it i was unsure about <3 also this is just the set up for future stuff and nothing really happens <3 it's just steeb being sorta head over heels for u <3

part one // series masterlist // taglist

You didn’t quite understand what you were doing with hundreds of nobles and servants around you. You knew what it was, of course, a ceremony; the kind you were required to be at to prepare you for your future, but you'd been spared any more details. It was funny, the way you’d been told that your presence was of the utmost importance this time in particular and still you had been given no details on why you had to be there, nor were you given details on why you couldn't sit in your regular seat.

You normally wouldn’t mind it, the extent to which you’d been kept in the dark, but it would be helpful to know why there were so many pairs of leering eyes, staring at you like they were waiting for you to mess up.

The majority of the time you had a choice. Whether or not you wanted to attend had always been an opportunity you'd chosen to take every time it had been offered. So much so that despite never having been taught about the process of swearing fealty in detail until you were fifteen, you’d been able to recite the oath at any given moment since the age of ten.

Using your hand to shield your eyes from the sunlight, you noticed a man a couple of meters from you doing the same. He was tall, his hair a honey blonde in the sunlight. Something about him made him look ethereal despite not being able to see the details of his face. The way the light was reflecting off the metal of his armor and towards you, the direction shifting ever so slightly when he turned his torso gave him a sort of glow. There was a dull ache in the back of Steve's eyes. The throbbing only increased as he squinted, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked around.

The way his curiosity seemed to heighten when he caught sight of you was similar to that of a child when they're told not to do something. It was the way he knew he shouldn't stare, that somebody would reprimand him later, but he couldn't help but think that there was something off about you. He didn’t know how he came to that conclusion, perhaps it was how out of place yet well-adjusted to your surroundings you seemed. It seemed like you’d done this before, so much so that you were bored.

Steve couldn't if your uninterest intrigued him or offended him, maybe it was both, the irritation leading him to find curiosity in your nonchalance. He also couldn't tell why his train of thought was leading him there, maybe he was just as uninterested and you'd been the first person to openly display it, or maybe he simply found you that captivating. Something about the way you presented yourself was inherently enchanting to him. Suddenly, Steve from his thoughts, the whistle of the wind was no longer the only thing he could hear as heat rose to his cheeks.

“Something catch your eye?” a familiar voice quipped. Steve shook his head quickly before shifting his attention to his surroundings, almost disoriented before he remembered where he was and what he’d been doing. He looked back to see who’d asked only to realize it was the face of a man he’d half recognized, not quite sure of his name. He turned back to you intending to only look for a second, but once again he ended up staring. The fact that you could so easily immerse him in you, the thoughts circling his mind of things unfamiliar and foreign to him, without even speaking to him was terrifying.

Somehow, Steve composed himself enough to notice the king’s attempt to gather everybody's attention. In a matter of minutes, everybody had quieted down, waiting for the king to speak as the wind bit at their skin.

The king took his stance next to you, standing tall above the crowd on the dais with the queen on his arm. He nodded once to the herald and looked across the crowd. The same routine as every ceremony.

“My beloved subjects,” but you were new, “I am honored by your service and fealty. There is no prouder king than I, standing before you.” A lady in waiting possibly, “Time and again you have shown your strength, honor, and allegiance to your king, your royal family, and your country. You have my endless gratitude.” No, you’re too beautiful for a lady in waiting.

“But I would be doing us all a great disservice if I did not extend my thanks to my daughter,” a duchess, maybe, “The princess.” The king’s words echoed in the pavilion as the crowd muttered with uncertainty. He held his hand out to you, and you stepped forward hesitantly.

She’s the princess.

“The relentless devotion she has shown to our country and our people is beyond words. There is no greater love than that of your princess to her kingdom. I am certain she will be a most beloved queen, and as that time draws nearer, as does her coronation. Your next pledge shall be not only to me as your king but to her as your crown princess as well. I know you will all do well to honor your allegiance to her as she shall to you.”

Everything seemed to come together in his mind at once, why you had looked so bored and why you struck him as different than anybody he’d ever met before. Now that he thought about it, you must’ve been to at least twenty of these ceremonies, each with a similar if not exactly the same speech and the same people. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve felt a stab of pity for you. He was only able to continuously attend such events since he had a choice, at least the majority of the time. And though he would never say it, out loud he still didn’t always enjoy every one he’d been to.

And suddenly he was moving forward. He’d found himself lost in thought yet again, unaware of the fact that he'd been moving till somebody behind him bumped into him. His boots suddenly felt tight against the sole of his feet, his legs stiff as he fought the urge to turn around and leave. He wouldn’t do it of course, but somehow the thought of getting closer to you made him jittery. He flexed his palm before squeezing it into a fist, repeating the motion until his muscles became less tense.

Steve couldn’t remember when he’d started this habit of sorts, just that it was now second nature to him, subconsciously flexing his hand and then squeezing it into a fist when he was trying to control himself or occasionally when he needed to focus. He was doing the latter now, still repeating the action as the leather heel of his boots sunk into the grass, the dirt muddy from rain the previous night. He stopped walking just as abruptly as he’d started, now a few inches from the dais.

Steve looked at you again, except this time he was close enough to notice the slight pucker in your brow. The sunlight was no longer obstructing his vision as he saw you instinctively straighten your back with the weight of thousands of leering eyes. The pucker in your brow seemed to ease as the crowd dispersed, your eyes raking over the crowd until they caught sight of him staring back at you. Your lips twitched as you considered how you should respond before you decided on simply smiling at him. Steve mirrored your expression, and he felt a sudden sense of relief surging through him at your lack of reaction. It took him a moment to realize you were motioning him to come closer, and another minute for him to work up the courage to do so.

You slowly lowered yourself off of the dais, praying that nobody was paying enough attention to you to notice before you landed on the ground. The grass crunched under your feet and you. Steve couldn’t tell how but you were more captivating up close. His eyes strayed to the curve of your lips, tracing the soft dip of your waist apparent in your kirtle.

And suddenly, in a whirlwind of motion, you were gone. Steve looked around for the deep maroon of your dress, turning around until he noticed a scrap of the fabric left behind on the dais. He looked to his left and then his right before carefully pulling the cloth from the nail it had gotten caught on. Looping it around his wrist once, he tied a knot, just tight enough that it wouldn’t slip off.

It wasn’t wrong, right? He intended to give it back to you, though he didn’t have the slightest clue when that was.

Steve’s back ached when he woke up. He didn’t know why, and he also didn’t know when he’d gotten back to his bed, but that was something to think about later. Instead, he was worrying about what he’d do with the shred of your dress, which was still on his wrist despite his tendency to move around in his sleep.

“Are you up yet?” a familiar voice pierced through the momentary veil of silence in the manor. He sat up, fiddling with the fabric in an unsuccessful attempt to undo the knot he’d tied the previous day. Hopper saw the deep maroon of the fabric before he could hide it and Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, waiting for his response.

“How did you get that?” he paused. Steve opened his mouth to reply but Hopper's eyes went wide as he cut the boy off, “Tell me you didn’t steal it.”

Steve shook his head almost instantly, appalled that the thought had even crossed the man's mind. Hopper seemed to deflate with relief.

“I found it,” he explained vaguely. Hopper held back a laugh at the boy's unclear clarification.

“Yeah?” Steve nodded, “who’s is it?”

And suddenly, over two decades' worth of barriers Steve had built around his vulnerability fell all at once. He looked at Hopper like a guilty little boy, like he’d accidentally dropped and shattered his mother's vase and he’d been caught near the scene. He looked at Hopper like he was scared of his potential response. The intensity of his gaze softened at the boy’s silence. He somehow seemed to understand Steve’s sensitivity regarding the subject.

“I found it on the edge of the dais,” he wasn’t technically lying.

“You still aren’t answering my question,” Hopper said quietly.

“You won’t be mad?” the man shook his head earnestly

“I found it at the ceremony yesterday,” Steve paused, thinking over his next words, “It’s from the princess’s dress, got torn on a screw”

Somehow, when the words finally started falling from his tongue, they wouldn’t stop or slow down, the sentences he strung together becoming more rushed and incoherent with each passing one, the words toppling on top of one another and slurring in his throat as he recalled what had happened the previous day.

“You should’ve seen her,” he trailed off, his eyes staring off into space as he smiled all fond. Hopper smiled at the boy’s lovesick demeanor, an odd sense of pride filling him with Steve’s vulnerability. It wasn't often that he opened up, so Hopper made sure to recognize it when he did.

“Are you going to give it back?” he prodded gently. Steve nodded.

“Next time I see her, yeah,” he replied, frowning as he did so. Steve hated the uncertainty of it all, the fact that he didn’t know when he’d see you next, or that he didn’t know what you wanted to say to him the previous day. He detested the spontaneity of it and the idea that he didn’t know the next time he’d bump into you, having been used to rigid rules and calculated decisions, yet Steve thought he could get used to it for you.

#ivy is writing !#steve harrington (ivy’s version)#stluvs #steve harrington #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington au #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #knight au #knight!steve harrington

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tamelee · 7 months

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Do ppl genuinely believe gaara has a crush on naruto? I thought it was a joke 😭 the jokes like gaara hating sasuke are funny but they're far from true considering in canon he cried for sasuke and tried to tell him to return. He told naruto later on that sasuke's not planning on coming back bc it was true, not bc he's jealous or some shit 💀 it was naruto who got upset at that and shoved his hand away, and also bc gaara made it clear that if in the war sasuke is on the enemy team then he won't hold back and will go for the kill. He's just another person who doesn't care about sasuke anymore which is why naruto got mad. To me only naruto and sasuke being romantically in love makes any sense, when ppl bring in not only gaara but even shikamaru, neji, Lee, sai it just seem like a joke bc wtf? Most of those ppl are pretty openly straight anyway. It seems like only sasunaru fans do this, they think every man around naruto wants him and is jealous of sasuke and sasuke's not a good bf but all of that is pure projection and stupidity and they act like incels when they treat naruto like some helpless girl with her Chad bf who should instead be with the nice guys. Anyway that went sorta off topic but yeah I don't think gaara's actually in love. Or if he is, he's not the jealous type bc I admit if he was a girl, even dudebros might see it with him. It's just that naruto has it part of his character that everyone worships him sooner or later. Whenever he changes someone they become his fan and act like he's God. Gaara, neji, shikamaru, pain, obito, tsunade. Sasuke's the only special one bc their relationship is actually different and special. But even for him sometimes some sns fans reduce him to a naruto worshipper in sns fics. Or they talk about the "i'm in naruto's world, I'm blessed to exist" quote that seems an awful lot like idol worship. I hate when they reduce sasuke and his relationship to naruto to that, that's hinata's job, to be naruto's personal slave, not sasuke. And if you remember this while analyzing gaara he just seems like yet another character that got reduced to a naruto dick sucker, that's all.

Gaara and Sai openly straight Nonee? xD I understand your points, but I do think you’re doing yourself a HUGE disservice if you think Gaara is just a... *checks* 👀... “Naruto dick sucker”...

... kinda falls short, no? Their bond is distinct, and categorizing it as similar to Naruto's other connections, especially when most are comrades at best. Villagers conditionally acknowledge Naruto because they see him as useful until he proves otherwise, and that includes the majority of his... friends. Naruto said it himself, he doesn’t trust them (I HAVE A THEORY ABOUT THIS REGARDING 'HOPE' TBH I’LL FINISH THAT DRAFT SOON FINALLY LOL) This lack of trust is evident again during his fight with Kurama.

With Gaara, it is very uniquely a bond of their own regardless whether someone believes it is romantic or not and it doesn’t really have anything to do with Sasuke, so I’m not sure how to feel about a comparison?

However, Naruto's connection with Gaara does share some similarities with his bond with Sasuke; hurting for Gaara’s pain because he understood it as fellow Jinchuuriki, or hurting for Sasuke’s pain and burdens but going on a journey because he wanted to understand (‘we could’ve been in each other’s shoes, Sasuke’). These bonds also relate to the system itself, which is closely interlinked. Hence, Sasuke shouting at Naruto for not understanding in VotE1. But it's not the same thing, and that's perhaps one of the most significant differences between Naruto's bonds with Sasuke and Gaara, don't you think? The contrasting pain (regarding that understanding) he felt played a crucial role in his learning process. "I felt less pain when I escaped loneliness, but Gaara was lonelier for longer and Sasuke has to live with this burden... which is unbearable, what can I do?" Collaboration only becomes possible when you can truly understand one another. The same was seen during the Shinobi War when they had to unite as a single alliance. Gaara references this several times.

That understanding transcends national borders, and it's an integral part of Naruto's Ninja Way. It's also a way to demonstrate that mutual understanding could potentially unite the Nations, but that's a different topic. What remains consistent is Naruto's anger towards the entire system when it becomes personal and disregarding what is seen as 'appropriate Shinobi behavior'. (Lmao not those anti-Naruto post claiming Naruto was fine with everything altogether 😭 ffs, delete.)

Of course Naruto’s emotions played a huge part in him going feral. It was primarily triggered by Gaara's death, but even before that Kurama's Chakra was slipping through as he was learning about himself, Jinchuuriki and discovering new things that Konoha, and even Jiraiya, whom he trained with for years, had never shared with him. Our boy was seriously going through it, but this drive wasn’t just him showing Shonen Hero behavior to ‘stop the bad guys from gaining power’ or grieving a friends’ death at that moment even.

Naruto had every right to be furious. This is the same anger that says, 'If you Shinobi of the Leaf hadn't placed a monster in me,' and 'Did any of you even try to ask ME how I felt?!!' But, of course, Naruto repressed his anger and avoided empathizing with himself. However, this anger still simmers beneath the surface in the story. (Sakura's display of compassion for Naruto's situation after realizing he could die was a good moment tbh, I liked it even if Naruto shoved it aside. Kinda like he was saying they could never understand as Sasuke said to him, except Naruto sorta laughs it off and shows confidence instead. Anw, Sakura's best moments are in this arc, and it has nothing to do with the Sasori fight.)

But why doesn't Naruto express anger for himself?

Because, in this case, he carries a sense of guilt towards Gaara. He heard Gaara express how he desperately searched for a reason to live, feeling like a 'relic of the past that people wanted to get rid of'—unwanted and alone. This led Gaara to decide to care only for himself and kill everyone else. While Naruto could empathize with Gaara due to the shared pain stemming from similar situations, he also understood that their circumstances were entirely different at the time he met him. Naruto compared his own situation with Gaara's, stating that 'everyone' else had saved him from a dark and lonely hell, lumping the village together to contrast it with Gaara, who had no one still.

Naruto eventually said that Iruka and Sasuke were the ones who truly saved him after learning about different types of bonds and gaining a better understanding. However, the idea of being supported by so many people, (conditional or not) in contrast to Gaara, tore Naruto apart because he knows how unbearable it is to live that way. The Gaara he encountered during the exams represented Naruto's greatest fear for himself, and he began to feel guilty for having people around him, or even those who 'worship' him, as he felt it was unfair to Gaara. Despite his repressed emotions, Itachi's 'fear-inspiring Genjutsu' exposed Naruto's feelings and fears.

Naruto's efforts didn't just lead to a strong friendship; they also provided Gaara with hope. In this story, 'Hope' is perhaps the most important theme, a reason to live that is much more bearable. I wouldn't reduce all of this to Gaara merely 'worshipping' Naruto. Such analysis seems to miss the nuances of their complex bond regardless.

Naruto's sharing of joy also reflects his 'mysterious power.' He had mixed feelings about seeing Gaara advance so quickly as Kazekage but also genuinely felt happy for him. I genuinely believe that dismissing the Naruto-Gaara dynamic as mere 'worship' overlooks the significant impact Naruto had on Gaara and those around them. Which was extremely important to the story itself. I love the bond between Naruto and Gaara, but acknowledge it really isn't the same as the one with Sasuke. But considering their relationship, it's not surprising that Gaara might have a little crush on Naruto. However, it's not essential to insist on finding canonical evidence for this imo. While it's a plausible interpretation, I don't think that Gaara's feelings for Naruto are taken too seriously by most fans? Furthermore, Gaara's seeming 'pettiness' regarding Sasuke or Naruto's prioritization of him above others is not something anyone understood. The general consensus "for Naruto's sake" was that “Sasuke causes Naruto pain” (more like, Sasuke’s pain hurts Naruto because he loves him) so of course, Gaara's feelings were conflicted by his duty (getting rid of a 'criminal') and his friendship with Naruto (who will fight against such Shinobi duties because feelings are involved and they'll never be able to truly become emotionless tools-). Sasuke had attacked the summit after all, usually an immediate death sentence regardless of reason. Gaara is Naruto’s friend, it would be weird if he didn’t want to protect Naruto in return even against Sasuke, it's just that Naruto didn't see it the same way as everyone around him. THAT is frustrating!! Remember he told Naruto to really think about his friendship with Sasuke and what it meant? 👀 Like, "Naruto, you really want to do this? We are friends too, yeah? Doesn’t he cause you pain? Look at you... think about this carefully, kinda sus tbh. What’s this meaaann? I give my life for you, I will fight for you but what we do now huh?" Etc-

In the end, Naruto is the protagonist of a Shonen story, serving as a measuring device to gauge the significance of events in the narrative. (This role is largely shared with Sasuke though). Naruto provides the reference point for understanding the story's relationships. The core message, typically related to positive change as defined by Naruto/the main character, is a fundamental aspect of these stories. What truly matters is why something is significant in the story and what it means to the characters. His bond with Gaara a huge part of it. And to a degree the others as well because that's kind of the point.... And it's not for nothing we haven't seen the same development with the villagers as a whole because it wasn't important to the story.... yet. (Should've been solved before he became Hokage though 😂 "Naruto-the-village-is-family-I-guess-cuz-former-hokage-said-so-Uzumaki." Bro.)

"only sasunaru fans do this, they think every man around naruto wants him and is jealous of sasuke and sasuke's not a good bf but all of that is pure projection and stupidity and they act like incels when they treat naruto like some helpless girl with her Chad bf who should instead be with the nice guys."

Ngl, I can't disagree with this one. Idk why the Naruto-bl-harem is so popular? And ok, have them all worship Naruto for all I care, but why is he always so....... dainty. Don't mind me some uwu-Naruto, he's cute alright, but.... no 😭 I don't even have words.

"Sasuke's the only special one bc their relationship is actually different and special. But even for him sometimes some sns fans reduce him to a naruto worshipper in sns fics."

I mean... to a certain degree. Define worshipping 👀 from what I can read about the true definition, their 'worshipping' is pretty mutual, but the difference lies in the foundation and the fact that it is unconditional. I know what you mean though, the Sasuke guilt tripping is real and a bit painful. Like? Isn't that Esaka's job?

"Or they talk about the "i'm in naruto's world, I'm blessed to exist" quote that seems an awful lot like idol worship."

UGH! 😓 This stupid non-canon quote. Did everyone forget who wrote this novel about Sasuke 'atoning for his sins'??? 😭 SPOILER: NOT KISHIMOTO. (Kinda want to read it though to fact-check some things.) There might be some truth in the words now that I have spent many months thinking about the blank period... but so does Naruto not want to live without Sasuke. As much as their world includes the other, they are still their own characters with their own goals in a Shinobi world with a system that would never allow them to truly live in each others' worlds fully anyway gerigjekrg3rhiqjkhmregqerigkjqrg;-; ok bye.

#asktamelee #naruto talk #Gaara talk #I should really stop typing so much #hehehe oops #long post

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crushedsweets · 8 months

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hi! just wanted to say i love how in detail your lore is. it’s very well explained and i can understand it very easily so i appreciate that lot! i was wondering if you could talk abt jeff and clockys relationship? i’m curious about how you write them together and i’ve always liked their dynamic!

HIII YOURE SO KIND THANK YOU SO MUCH im glad u can understand it easily cuz ik i do a lot of run on sentences.... OK I WILL TALK NOW

ok. ok. jeff and clocky came around the story around the same time the rest of the creeps did. right after clocky was released from the operator, she was running on rage and exhaustion.

jeff is still teetering between the operator and slenderman because he doesnt want to commit to the full process(?), since it's really painful and can take months. and he doesnt care to. but occasionally he'll take a few of the proxy's pills so he can maintain some control over himself, mostly by force tho.

they kinda both got thrown into the same barn by slenderman. clocky cant afford an apartment, jeff . . cant work. when masky or hoody force jeff to take a slender sickness pill every now and again, he like half dies for a couple days in the barn. natalie understands the pain esp cuz it happened to her most recently. so she kinda(very loosely) takes care of him , aka brings him water and weed . he's kinda grateful but he's just... such an arrogant asshole theyre ALWAYS arguing. she won't hesitate to kick him while he's down

but, of course, they have to coexist somehow. so they'll hang out, get high together, talk shit. he gets morbidly interested in what she remembers of her own kills, and she finds it.. oddly relieving to finally get it off her chest. she uses jeff like a confessional. she's told toby, but its really awkward. jeff is interested. he'll ask questions, get excited, all the weird shit. part of her hates it but again, who else will be so accepting of something like that ?

being around him runs the risk of triggering operator-related episodes, though, so they've gotten into trouble together.

toby doesnt like jeff and gets super aggravated at him and natalie being friends. but natalie thinks its really fucking annoying when tobys like 'u shouldnt hang around him' and tells him to shut up.

ofc nina eventually comes into the picture and jeff starts staying with her more often, leaving nat to the barn.

sometimes nat feels lonely and wishes he stuck around, but she just goes to stay with toby (when slender allows it). most of the time she's grateful he's away and can stop pissing her off all the damn time LOL

jeff is seriously just. ok ill admit i make him very one dimensional, but he literally doesnt care. sure he likes hanging out with her but like... he doesn't really do much in return for her, doesn't clean up the barn, doesn't get her anything, etc. he'll float between the barn and nina's apartment without much thought or consideration. but he'd kill someone for nat, if that means anything

generally theyre not close, but yk. theyre sometimes sorta parttime roommates every now and again.

#creeped #clockwork creepypasta #natalie ouellette #jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #asks

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katyspersonal · 13 days

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What are your opinions on our Lord and Savior Gywn?

He didn't save SHIT!! He took the perfectly (?) functioning humanity and ruined it! Look at it, it got Hollowing!!

Okay, I am making the 'Marika is a MILF Gwyn' jokes here and there, but 1) Marika is a bit more of a straight up cold and mean person, all things considered 2) Yet she still has enough nuance, and a lot of her actions might be written on reasonable fears and 3) Gwyn is even MORE nuanced than Marika, from what I have concluded so far! Laurence is a similar kind of sinner too. Comparison of the characters that share a trope is helpful for my thought process, so bear with me a little! With Marika I see a more direct disdain and fear before the very nature of life, cyclic and treacherous, uncontrollable, being meant to perish one day but with new life sprouting from it, and thus doing lovely things like shunning Crucible-related lifeforms. With Laurence, we have enough evidence so far that beasthood was not created by Healing Church but something already lingering in the human code after Pthumerians and Loran, so ambition to seize and control it it was risky but understandable!

But with Gwyn, we are confirmed that human nature itself is dark, undesirable an terrifying, as well as how he sorta had the chance to see it 'in action' during uniting with humans to take war on dragons. And also in Dark Souls the cyclic nature of Ages is just a fact, and it would make sense that should Age of Dark come, he and his family would be the first to go as beings of Light. It is a combination of things: his kind being in true danger and not just "risking to lose power", the treacherourness of how political allyship simply works (your today's ally country against the common enemy could tomorrow ally with someone else to start the war on YOU) and simply the not-so-metaphorical horrors of the Dark itself! is not a speculation, the dangers are RIGHT here!

Gwyn messed the natural order of humanity in a way that I personally dislike and express it on multiple occasions: trying to get rid of what's barbaric and dangerous yet natural and not accepting that there is no light without shadow, or life without death. But I also feel sympathetic because he had a legit reason to fear the darkness within men. In is not as much philosophical but a literal concept in Dark Souls lore. He acted out of fear, backed up with a precedent, and it brought the ruin to himself and everyone else. Writing this I'd say he sorta falls for the type of a person I can only like in fiction but resent in reality. I guess I don't need to explain what kind of people this is, paranoid "but for a valid reason", being "preventive" with their drastic measures.. Good intentions path to hell self-fulfilling prophesy blablabla. His specieism doesn't help his case in the slighest. Ironically, all extremely human behavior of him!

(LOL thank you based Goldmask as usual xddd) At the same time, he is not entirely corrupt with the power he seized and used to strip humanity of what was natural for them; he, in the end, committed to what he believed was better for everyone and sacrificed HIMSELF too. I can respect the cunning and machiavellian person who, in the end, is above the vanity of a 'savior' and can give themselves too, not only others. He also did share his power with some humans, showing that he can take kinda benevolent choices even with those he fears. Yeah, part of calculated risk could be there; dude gave the city and his daughter to the Pygmy to, again, preemptively avoid some animosity. But in the case with the four kings, did he HAVE to? Or Seath for that matter, who is a dragon, another species he doesn't like?

I find it hard to detect 'truly' corrupt people in Soulsborne setting in general, and yeah we can fiddle with 'nuanced character' and 'everyone is morally grey' forever and never discover THE big bad we'd love to hate. But, out of those big bads, I think he deserves the benefit of being seen as a way more nuanced character than the corrupt leader the most! It is the case where he should not have done anything, but also should not have NOT done anything.. Soulsborne is eager with placing characters in a position and knowledge where every choice is wrong and they just pick a poison for themselves (and everyone else xd). Jokes about "haha people in power moment" are still mostly jokes for me. He is sympathetic in a way not like I think I'd have done the same (let's be real, I revel in darkness gfjjghk) but in a way where I understand too much to feel negative 🤔

#though you can NOT take my word since I apologize aldrich and mico lmao #dark souls #dark souls 1 #gwyn lord of cinder #I say all this but after writing all this I feel like liking him more xd #closer examination helps!#also sorry this is not my average infodump essay I just need more time!#i try to cram more DS lore in my brain but it gives me 'STORAGE FULL REMOVE SOME BB/ER LORE' error gghhh #again I just need (more eyes on my brain) time xd #also am I tripping or I had ask about Gael too?#i need to fix my inbox its so broken #but also yes advantage of asking my DS opinions is that they're ACTUAL opinions #and not autism xd #ask replies

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charliehoennam · 2 years

Text

black-leathered prince

A/N: filling out a request made by@babygirl8900 made recently here. boy, is it good to write again! send in requests, my ask box is always open.

Pairing: Jackson Teller x gn!reader Word count: 2,154 Warnings: mentions of jealousy, language, communication blockage, anxiety (sorta?)

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG!

Another long and exhausting day had gone by. You were in the final hour of your casual 9 to 5 job and all you thought about was running into your boyfriend’s arms and getting home to enjoy a relaxing night with him. It was a rare night – one where he wasn't working some stupid job that will undoubtedly risk either his life or his freedom of the sake of the club – so you wanted to take advantage of it to spend some alone time together. Maybe finally catch on the show you can never seem to finish. You had tried to watch without him, but it seemed to hurt more than cheating on him. Who would’ve thought Jackson Teller could be so sensitive?

The movement around the office slowed down from the busy rush of last minute documentation processes. Reports to file, contracts to process, enquiries to respond to, charts to update. Fridays were always hectic and usually passed by quickly. However, they sometimes ended like today with anticipation bubbling in your core. Your leg bounced incessantly underneath your desk towards the end of the late afternoon. Your heart pounded with excitement and pride the second you heard the roar of his bike pulling up just outside the building. You knew it was him, everyone knew it's him.

The club was well known for being bad news. When word first spread of your relationship with Jax, you noticed the swift change in most of your friends and co-workers. Invitations to happy hour ceased, co-workers avoided you as subtly as possible. Of course they wouldn't be rude to you. The distance constructed was much more elaborate out of fear of some sort of retaliation or revenge. Conversations became no shorter than the average small talk on the weather or latest gossip around the office. Their private lives simply became much more private, just particularly from you. It kinda hurt, but you figured you could understand. You knew better than anyone the trouble the Sons caused around town and they knew too. The Sons were trouble and no one decent in town wants trouble, they'd rather avoid it. When Gemma once said the club looks after their own, you didn't realize it at first, but it meant more than just the boys. It meant their families, wives, parents, children. People viewed all of those associated with the club as part of it and that came with a price.

Seeing him waiting there for you - sat on his bike smoking a cigarette with a helmet waiting for you between his hand and his bike - was like a breath of fresh air. It was worth enduring the long, lonely week of work. A smile bloomed across his lips as he caught sight of you. His cigarette was dropped to the ground and stomped out by his sneaker despite not being entirely smoked; he was eager to get you all to himself.

"Hey there, beautiful" he beamed just before you leaned in to kiss him hello.

"Hey there, handsome. I sure did miss you" you smiled back.

"I missed you too, sunshine. Let's get out of here and have some fun?" His question was complete with the gesture of holding the waiting helmet over to you.

"God, yes. I'm so tired" you replied, taking the helmet to get it on. "Where are we going, your place or mine?" "Well, actually I was thinking we could go to the clubhouse. Maybe have some drinks and some laughs before heading home?" Your heart sunk to your stomach. You'd been looking forward all week to having Jax all to yourself. Sure, you knew Jax was often quite the social butterfly. You accepted that about him and didn't usually mind spending a night drinking with the guys at the clubhouse or at one of their houses. The issue was that you had done that already the last few weeks and were craving some romantic alone time. However, you didn't have the heart to tell him you weren't up for it. He loved having you around the guys; it made him feel like his life was complete and that he had everything and everyone he could ever need. It wouldn't hurt to put on a fake smile and muster up whatever fumes you still had in your social energy tank.

He could tell something was off about you. You didn't really wanna get into it with everyone present. The more he questioned you on what was bothering, the more annoyed you got. You wished it wasn't at him, but you knew deep down it was. You were annoyed with the fact that he hadn't felt the need for your time alone, that he couldn't even summon the thought that you didn't want to be there yet another week. He wasn't trying to be selfish by doing what he wanted to do, you couldn't really blame him. You did agree on going. He was actually being as patient as he could with you, trying to get you to talk but respecting your boundaries. Once he realized that his attempts were angering you for some reason that was still unclear to him, his patience grew thin. He decided to mingle around with his buddies, trying to enjoy his beer and his time even though you were still on the back of his mind.

Stepping out for a smoke, you tried to clear your mind and think of how you could apologize to him. You felt bad, you knew you weren't right. Communication is key to every relationship. But after a long tiring week, at a place you wished you weren't and surrounded by people when your social energy is exhausted, you thought the best way to avoid saying anything you might regret would be to leave the conversation for another time. With every drag of your cigarette, guilt engulfed you. You were being unfair and you had to own up to that. Jax deserved to know why you were being unreasonable with him. So you stomped out your cigarette, committed to talking things out.

That was until you spotted the bright redhead propped on the bar beside your boyfriend, chatting and laughing as if they'd known each other for ages. You're not usually a jealous person, but you did feel it shimmer the blood beneath your skin.

"They're only talking," you thought. "That's barely anything to be jealous about."

You sat down in a dark corner of the clubhouse where you could keep the two in your line of sight. There was no denying that the girl was pretty. Short red hair, shiny green eyes, a fair complexion that seemed to glow under the lights. She looked young like she'd just turned legally old enough to drink. You knew all the crow eaters too well enough to spot them from a mile away. She wasn't one of them. At least, not yet. From the looks of it, it could've even been her first night in the clubhouse and she was already skinning on thin ice.

Jax, on the other hand, didn't shy away from the attention she'd been giving him. He respected her space and wasn't treating her any different from his buddies. He could tell she was new and didn't want to be rude without her deserving it. He honestly just felt flattered that she'd chosen him although he was quick to inform her his heart belonged solely to you.

You watched on as they talked and mingled and laughed at each other's stories. You wondered what they could be talking about, though you did notice moments where Jax would scan the area in search of you. You wanted to see how far things could get without your invention. Every second that passed by seemed to heat the blood in your veins even more. Your jealousy was becoming more and more difficult to tame within.

When the redhead raised her hand to hold onto Jax's forearm, you drew the line. Someone needed to teach the girl the rules around the club and it was gonna start tonight. You marched over with your shoulders pulled back proudly and your chin up high.

Jax was polite enough to simply pull his arm back to himself and was about to let her down gently until you showed up beside them, clearing your throat.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met" you smirked. "I'm y/n."

"I'm Lydia. I came here with a friend to celebrate my 21st birthday."

"Yeah, I can tell it's your first time here. Women don't usually put their hands on men that ain't theirs here. They could end up losing their hands for that."

The blank expression on your face made your threat pretty evident. Judging by her silence, she heard it loud and clear so you turned to Jax who was restraining himself.

"I'm heading home. Don't worry, I'll find my own ride."

Turning on your heels, you pushed through the door and walked out towards the gate to leave the area. The doors creaked open behind you announcing Jax's following you.

"What the hell is your problem, y/n? You and I both know you didn't have to go off on the girl."

"Of course you'd think that. You loved the attention she was giving you" you sneered as you turned to confront him.

"Probably because I got more attention from her than I did from you the whole night!" he frowned. "I don't get what the hell is going on with you. You've been strange ever since I picked you up from work, you won't talk about it and I honestly don't know what to fucking do because if I push you on it, you get mad at me."

The confusion on his face made your heart ache knowing you could've avoided this whole scene if you had just been upfront with him. The way his eyebrows pinched in the middle, the way his mouth hung open and the way his eyes desperately searched yours for answers made you take a deep breath to regain yourself. You couldn't lash out at him. This was your fault, not his.

"What's wrong is that I didn't want to be here in the first place. I wanted us to have some time to ourselves, just us two together. Not spending another Friday night watching your friends drink themselves blind."

"If that's what you wanted, why didn't you just say so?" "I dunno. I just thought this was what you wanted. It's what you always seem to want."

"What are you talking about, y/n?" he sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I mean you never ask for us to just stay home or go on a date just us. I kinda miss that and I guess I thought you didn't. And seeing you with that girl just made me think that you're tired of me or of us. That maybe you'd rather be here with your friends to avoid me."

"Jesus Chris- no, sweetheart. That's not true in the slightest." As he closed the space between you and held your hands in his hands, he started to reflect on it. It dawned on him that you haven't had a real date in a while or just stayed home together to join time alone. It was only natural to feel the way you did. Perhaps he could've done more to avoid this as well. Paid more attention to your needs, talked more about feelings even though he dreaded that more than anything. He just wished he would have realized how important it really was to you.

His head slowly rolled down to close his eyes and you had a sense that you weren’t the only one feeling guilt and regret.

"I just thought you liked hanging out with the guys, sweetheart. That's all, alright? I'm sorry I made you feel neglected. And you're right. We need more alone time away from everyone."

The warm hand on your cheek brushed away your jealousy into oblivion. Your eyes were lost in his, captivated by the touch of his fingers as you melted like ice upon the contact of warm fingertips. Every word from his lips dripped like a spell, lulling you into his trance of charisma and lust.

"So let's start with tonight. Lemme take you home, get us a nice bubble bath with some wine and candles, give you a nice foot rub" he smirked whispering inches away from your lips as his thumb grazed your cheek.

"I would love nothing more" you smiled back at him. "I gotta apologize too though. I should've been more open and honest. If I had, we wouldn't even be here right now."

"You were just trying to make me happy. I get that. Now it's my turn to make you happy" he grinned. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get out of here so I can have you all to myself."

#jackson teller #jackson teller x you #jackson teller x y/n #jackson teller x reader #jackson teller x gn!reader #jackson teller fic #jackson teller one shot #SOA fic #jax teller #jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller fic

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cluster-b-culture-is · 6 months

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hey!!! if its ok i’d like you’re thoughts on something ig and to sorta ask you something

so im bodily 15 atm, and i have cptsd. when i look at posts regarding certain cluster b experiences (possibly some cluster c aswell) i relate a LOT (obviously im not saying that bc i relate that i have these disorders, i just kinda have a feeling that *something* is going on). its tricky bc i keep looking into things and i cant really find an answer. i also dont know if im too young and that its just because im a teenager.

i wont get into like what “symptoms” i experience rn bc i feel like thats a whole other conversation but yeah.

i hope i dont sound like one of those people that are like “i must have x bc i related to a silly video i saw” im just really confused and i feel like something aint right

i know you’re probably not professionals so feel free to delete or ignore this if its too much, but if not, what do you think?

So, here's the thing (and we will attempt to avoid being patronizing): It is absolutely correct that your age and emotional/psychological development can affect things, and that the process of development can cause things that look like mild symptoms. It's also correct that that combined with c-ptsd (and any other disorders you may have; you'd be surprised how many symptoms and comorbidities autism, ADHD, NPD, and BPD all share) can make it extremely hard to determine where your symptoms are coming from and whether there might be something more.

(You're also correct that we are not professionals; this is all coming from our own research and personal experiences, so as with everything, take this with a grain of salt.)

However. I would argue that it would be far more harmful to deny any possibility of having a personality disorder until you reach some arbitrary age threshold than it would be to say that you do have a PD. Especially if looking at your life experiences through the lens of having a PD is helpful, and if resources for pw/[x]PDs are helpful to you. Even if you don't end up having a PD, that doesn't mean you were just a hormonal stupid teenager refusing to listen to the Adults™ or whatever the fuck--it means that you looked at your experiences, found something that seemed similar, and it turned out that you were wrong; but hopefully, along the way, you found things that were helpful.

Under the assumption that you have done a lot of research, I would personally recommend saying that you have traits of a particular disorder as opposed to saying you have the full disorder, and that is to two ends: one, a lot of adults with PDs (especially in ASPD spaces, if that's one of the disorders you're looking at) will kick your shit to hell and back if you even insinuate that you think you may have the full disorder (which I think is extremely counterintuitive if we want teenagers to understand their experiences and, yknow, not develop a full-blown personality disorder, regardless of whether you think teenagers can have a full personality disorder); and two, it might help you target the specific symptoms that you're experiencing without saddling you with the belief[/knowledge] that you have an incredibly stigmatized and lifelong disorder.

A lot of this stuff depends on a few things: (A) what your symptoms are (and if they can be better explained by other things, especially other things you know you have); (B) how severe your symptoms are (like the difference between being generally grouchy versus being actively hostile); and (C) how long your symptoms have lasted (if they only started popping up in the past few months or the past year versus if you've had them for years and years).

If you end up not having a personality disorder, anon, I think it will still be better for you in the long run to explore the possibility instead of shrugging it off under the excuse that you're "too young". It could turn out that you never had the disorder and it really was something else, it could turn out that you have traits but not the full disorder, or, hell, it could turn out that, by using resources and support you found by being part of communities surrounding PDs, you ended up not developing the full PD (even if you may still have a few traits)--because, at this age, you are still developing, and you are changing a lot, and very little is set in stone when it comes to these types of things--and you should absolutely take advantage of that! And even then, speaking from a more selfish perspective, it will never be a bad thing for more people to understand what it may be like to have a personality disorder.

For a bit of actionable advice on determining whether or not you may have one, though:

(1) Do your research. Obviously it's great that you're getting information from people with the disorders themselves by looking at PD communities; however, not everything having to do with the disorder will be talked about, and quite honestly, Tumblr is a terrible place to find definitive information on the PDs. Life experience? Yes. Actual information looking at how the disorders work and what they can entail in full? Ehhh, not quite. Look at a variety of academic sources, but in the same vein, keep your wits about you--professionals aren't immune to ableism, and may often perpetuate it with glee. Some of it may be obvious, some of it might not be.

(2) Keep an eye on your symptoms--make a manual check against the actual criteria every once in a while (but keep in mind that the DSM is also deeply flawed and biased); @shitborderlinesdo has a ton of checklists based on the DSM and individual testimony that can help. We first started questioning ASPD when we were 14, and we'd do those kinds of manual checks once every several months or once a year or so. It both helps you understand what your symptoms are, and helps you keep track of how you're doing over time. Don't use online quizzes for this; quite honestly, they're not really good for anything except validation if you know you'll get a high score.

(3) Look at stuff other than personality disorders, too, and try to figure out why your interest skews towards specific disorders. For a long ass time, we believed we had StPD and did our absolute best to ignore any information to the contrary, because (due to our symptoms) if it wasn't StPD, the only thing it could be otherwise was schizophrenia, and we were scared shitless of the idea; at first because we were scared of the idea that our symptoms might've been so severe, but eventually because we were afraid to admit that we were wrong. (As I've said before, no shame in being wrong--do as I say, not as I do.)

Ultimately, I can't stop you from doing anything, and I can't force you to do anything either. I'm just a mentally ill guy with an internet connection. My life experiences have led me to this conclusion, and others may disagree with it--that's perfectly fine. Again, I am not a professional. You know yourself and your experiences the best, and I think by this point, you have enough understanding of yourself and the world to be able to figure out what'll be best for you and your health, given that you have the proper resources to do so. You are a being with life experience, even if it's less than others may have; you aren't a rock, and you aren't a three year old who still hasn't realized that touching the lit stove will equal a burned finger. I personally think that the way a lot of folks go about talking to and about teenagers who think they may have personality disorders is, frankly, infantilizing and invalidating, and it just ends up with traumatized and unsupported teenagers turning into traumatized and unsupported adults, with the added bonus of an extra helping of imposter syndrome to top it all off.

I hope you're doing well anon, and I hope you see this (sorry for responding so late lmao). Off into the world ye may go, hopefully with a bit more knowledge and idea of what to do next than you had before.

#not cluster b culture #Mod Reef #anonymous #unqueued #this got way longer than intended. oops

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thefactsofthematter · 1 year

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this delancey brothers thing is so interesting to me because like,,, we get very little about their whole family life and backstory and the fandom has yet to come up with anything incredibly solid,,, anyways just thinking thoughts and i want to hear what you have to say

right?? i feel like for a while the fandom kinda shunned them bc of their role as villains… but a bad guy can be a compelling character too!!

i already gave a rundown of my backstory for them in the last ask i answered, so here’s my completely baseless thoughts regarding their personalities and relationship w each other!! @jack-kellys here’s the rest of my delancey nonsense 😙

- oscar is a deeply angry person. he doesn’t know how to feel anything else, when the world has been so cruel to him. he’s been trying to parent his little brother for years, in the shittiest of situations: from an abusive home, to jail, to their tiny bedroom at the newspaper office. wiesel is harsh with them, their job consists of long days of tedious work, and he often feels he has nothing to look forward to. he takes it out on everybody except morris, because he’s learned over the years that everyone is out to get him, so he may as well hurt them first. (hostile attribution bias anyone?? shoutout to all my fellow bitches who studied developmental psych 🤘)

- morris, on the other hand, strikes me as a little less angry and a little more scared. an odd hc of mine for him is that he’s on the fetal alcohol spectrum - he deals with numerous learning disabilities and developmental delays because of it, and it’s made all the trauma he’s experienced very hard to process. he finds his and oscar’s job frustratingly difficult: counting papes and keeping the numbers straight is hard for him, he hates how loud the newsies are (and how loud uncle wiesel is when he’s yelling), and he can’t focus for very long without getting the urge to jump and run and move around, which he knows he’s not allowed to do. he also knows he doesn’t speak very clearly— unless he’s very intentional with every syllable, which almost sounds worse because it’s so awkward, or using phrases he’s already practiced— so he’s given up on talking to anyone other than his big brother, for the most part. he lets oscar do most of the talking and is happy to back him up with his fists.

- oscar doesn’t really understand morris’s disability, but he tries not to think too hard about it. he doesn’t know why his brother needs help with certain things that seem easy— like knowing which shoe goes on which foot, or spelling the letters of his own name— but he’ll help him nonetheless, because that’s just what he needs to do. he thinks he might need to take care of morris forever, because it often seems like there’s some things the kid will just never get the hang of, but oscar doesn’t mind that, because at least it gives him some purpose. if he has to sit there every night and remind morris of the steps to getting cleaned up before bed (wash your face and hands, run a comb through your hair, fold up your clothes…) then at least he’s doing something helpful each day, and that makes him feel alright.

- a random anecdote that sorta sums them up (under the cut bc this is long already):

for morris’s 13th birthday, oscar steals a little stuffed dog from a shop, which morris names puppy and instantly clings to with all his might. at the time, oscar knows morris is too old for toys, but the way the kid lights up when the silly thing is handed to him makes everything worth it. he simply decides to accept that all the bullshit they’ve been through has made it hard for morris to grow up at the same rate as other people, so if babying him a little makes him this happy, that must be fine, right?

several years later, the first thing that ever compels oscar to lay a hand on wiesel is finding puppy in the trash on the front step on his way home from running errands, with its ears ripped off— he’s instantly sure that wiesel found it and took it from morris while he was gone. he charges inside and punches wiesel square across the jaw; he then spends the rest of the night barricaded in their bedroom, trying to messily sew puppy back together and simultaneously calm down his inconsolable little brother.

“you’re too big to cry, mo. you know that. you gotta cut it out before uncle hears you, alright?”

“but he took it. he took puppy away and wrecked it and said i can’t have it no more,” morris wails. “it ain’t fair, osc.”

“i know. i got it back and i’m trying to fix it, okay? i’ll get puppy good as new for you, i swear. you just gotta stop— you’re a big fella and you’re crying over a toy. you can’t be doing that.”

morris sniffles, obviously holding back a sob.

“you busted his head. why’d you do that?”

oscar shrugs. he finally manages to tie off a decent knot on one of the ears, which almost looks right again, despite his terrible stitches.

“i was mad. don’t no one mess with my brother without going through me, right?”

morris manages a smile, despite the way he’s still intently watching his beloved puppy be put back together, with tears in his eyes.

“right. and i’ll soak anyone who talks bad at you, i swear.”

wiesel beats oscar black and blue with his cane the next day, but oscar would take it a million times over for morris’s sake. when the newsies start wisecracking about oscar’s fresh cuts and bruises at distribution, morris starts beating on whichever of those loudmouths he can get his hands on until the whole lot of them have nothing more to laugh at.

the delancey brothers have each other’s backs at all fucking costs.

#so this is long but. i have been rotating these two in my mind and building them some characterization #so it’s just like. morris is very childlike on the inside and fighting is the only way he feels like he’s in charge.#oscar is just so goddamn mad at everyone and everything and needs to make it everyone’s problem or he’ll lose his mind.#they’re both awful bullies but god do they care about each other. maybe they grow up and calm down eventually.#oscar delancey #morris delancey #the delancey brothers

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