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quickandsilvers · 6 months

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Sick Day 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has come down with an illness, so Peter decides its time to repay the favour and take care of her.

Warnings: Oral sex(fem), fingering, kissing, humping, mention of a sex toy, embarrassment on readers end, Peter being an annoying and yet also very adorable airhead

Word count: 5083

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

A/N: im really happy with how this turned out, so im hoping anyone reading will enjoy it too.💕

A good night's sleep was tough enough to get as an Xmen.

Sleeping in went unbeknownst to you, with late nights on missions and grueling 6am training sessions, requiring you to be up and ready to go while everyone else slept lethargically in their rooms without a single care in the world.

This weekend was supposed to be your reprieve, no early mornings, no new work, just a chance to lie in and scoff as many cake snacks as possible until you grew nauseous. Or it should've been. This weekend was anything but.

Since it was a Friday night, and you’d just had a full day of lectures (courteous to Charles, of whom seemed to thrive off of your misery) you promised yourself that Saturday was the day you would crack on and do.. Well.. nothing.

Lying in bed, however, the probability of this happening seemed bleak. Dull, aching pain shot through your stomach intermittently, and the feeling of whole body numbness and nausea couldnt be shaken.

Whimpering and clutching at your stomach, you feebly use your powers to close your bedroom door. You would rather be caught stark naked running through Charles prized white rose bushes than be seen writhing in your bed like you were doing your best attempt of a caterpillar in the process of metamorphosis. You were very aware of Peter’s frequent roaming of the halls, knowing if he caught you in such a state you would never be able to live it down.

You felt weak. Insecure. A class four mutant and yet you succumbed to something as simple as a stomach ache and fever?

It was a fight to repress the pain. A fight you were in fact losing, and you weren’t sleeping because of it.

You weren't exactly sure how your sickness had flared up, but living in a mansion full of prepubescent kids that paid more attention to what was being served for lunch, rather than the basic hygiene and cleanliness standards made you less than surprised.

A glance at your phone. 2:37 AM. A sorry sign given that you’d gone to bed at quarter to twelve. With an exasperated huff you got up, instantly squatting to the ground to lessen the pain that was realized with it. Then, slowly, you maneuvered yourself into your bathroom, supporting your jittery hands on the countertop of your sink before looking into the mirror.

Holy shit, someone alert the authorities. Exorcism needed, stat. Pale faced skin, lidded eyes and disheveled hair greeted you like a slap in the face, only seeming to aid in your shitty mood.

Groaning, you trudged back into the confines of your bed, too lazy to attempt fixing whatever happened to your appearance and disappearing under the covers. You ignored the sweltering heat emitting off of your body, instead picking up your phone once more and dialing a number you knew off by heart.

As an adult, you should’ve been able to handle being sick on your own. But you still wanted to talk to Peter, at least let him know that you weren't feeling great. He owed it to you anyway, you reassured yourself, remembering his leg fracture after the Apocalypse battle, making you his personal assistant for the next two weeks.

A very, very long two weeks. Not that you minded too much, especially when aiding him in getting dressed in the morning, but you soon realized he was essentially just a giant toddler, with no sense of spatial awareness or consideration for your busy schedule.

Peter had somehow influenced you into sharing the same bed for the time his leg was broken, exaggerating the fact he might ‘roll off the bed and be confined to the floor like a turtle stuck on its back.’ His words, not yours.

You weren’t even sure if that was a plausible excuse. Nonetheless, it worked, and you spent the next while being laid upon as though he were a weighted blanket, his stifling speedster body heat having the same effect on you as a sauna.

That you could deal with until you discovered his tendency to constantly be moving around on the bed, even whilst sleeping. One time you woke up with your best friend sprawled out in a way you can only describe as a malfunctioned starfish, limbs stretched out in ways you didn't imagine were possible.

The morning after you made a satirical statement of tying Peter down to the bed to keep him still, only to instantaneously regret it after being met with wiggling eyebrows and a plethora of bondage jokes.

Snapping yourself out of your tranfix, you dial the number, not having to wait as Peter picked up before the first ring.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He said. You could practically hear his grin from down the phone.

“Hey, are you busy?” You spoke the best you could, wincing at the voice crack you made.

“Geezz, what's up with you?” Peter snorted, and you could hear the faint buzz of his Mrs Pacman machine, telling you he was in his basement. “Yer mouth sexed a can of helium or what?”

Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat, ignoring the burning sensation traveling through your trachea. “Shut up, Maxipad-'' you could hear his groan through the screen “i was gonna say that i'm just not feeling that good right now. Nothing terminal, was just gonna ask if you could stop by or someth-?”

A woosh sounded from your phone before the call ended, and with a fwip, Peter was standing in your bedroom.

With your half-lidded eyes you glanced up to see your best friend, clad in his million dollar man tee and the only pair of pants you’ve ever seen him wear, the dark metallic color almost black due to the lack of light in your bedroom.

Donning his signature grin hinted with a smidge of concern, Peter blew a section of his silvery hair out of his face before his chocolate eyes locked onto yours. Peter titled his head in amusement, snorting at what you could only assume was your current state of appearance.

Before you could come up with a witty remark, a cough attack silenced your words, making you lean into a sitting position and struggle for breath. When it was over, you noticed Peter now standing on your left with his grin replaced with blatant concern, handing you a glass of water he seemed to have just magically pulled out of his ass.

You eyed the glass, your throat thirsty and parched, but suspicious over the unusual act of care.

“Did you spit in it?” You ask hoarsley, although accepting the drink.

“Please, i’m not that much of an airhead.” Peter argued, laughing at your deadpan gaze. “Besides, it’s not me who you should be worried about. We both know Scott is the most diseased out of all of us.”

“You're still hung up on that?” You barked in laughter before sputtering at the wave of pain sent through your throat.

A few weeks prior, the mansion held a birthday celebration for Kurt, where Scott had one too many to drink. The night ended with your friend sprawled out in a nearby bush outside the mansion, hurling into what poor Scott drunkenly believed was a bag.

The bag in question? Peter’s silver jacket.

“It was my only one!” Peter whined, “they don’t make ‘em anymore!”

You covered your laugh with your hand, knowing Peter’s beloved jacket was a sensitive topic. Although, you made a mental note to find a jacket as similar to his as possible, knowing that the speedsters birthday was just around the corner.

“I’m sure you’ll live.” You smiled, before furrowing your brows as you watched Peter rustling around your cupboards.

“I’m looking for some cough sweets” Peter remarked as he continued to rummage through your things, sensing your confusion. “-for your throat”

You nodded, pointing to a pair of drawers on the opposite side of where you were laying in bed. “Bedside table drawer.” Fwip.

Whilst focusing on adjusting your position into a comfortable one, you could hear the sound of the drawer being pulled open, the rustling indicating Peter’s fumbling.

A half-minute later, you find a comfy spot and turn towards Peter, the background noises coming to a stop and his voice speaking up.

“Found i- oh, hel-lo.” He whistled.

“Did you find the cough sweets?” You asked. Studying his gaze, you wrinkled your nose in puzzlement as Peter stared into the drawer, a wide grin forming on his flushed face.

From knowing Peter since the Xmen formed in ‘83, you recognised this smirk from anywhere, identifying it from when Peter teases you about something. Which of course, is constantly.

“What?” You turn to throw a blanket over yourself before looking back. As you do, you see Peter staring at you with a wicked smile, an arched eyebrow and-

Fuck.

Your silver vibrator in his hand.

Your eyes get impossibly wide and your jaw goes slack in a combination of surprise and pure horror. You completely forgot about that thing, being so busy with missions and training meant that you hadn’t had the time to kick back and relax like you used to do.

The realization that the vibrator was silver, your best friend's infamous signature color, only added to your embarrassment. How were you gonna dig yourself out of this one?

Peter’s grin only gets wider at the comical realization on your face. A few moments of silence and, as if you had been cured miraculously, you scrambled towards him, kneeling upon the bed so that you were only just in line with his twinkling eyes.

Peter snickered as you got closer, drawing the vibrator closer to his chest, almost possessively.

“A vibrator, huh?” He confirms in that annoying tone you had got to know so well. The tone that makes you want to sink into the ground and be one with the soil, no conscience or memory of the situation you are facing.

“That’s something personal, give it back.” You point out, sharp and firm. You extend your hand, waiting for Peter to give you the vibrator, but of course, you remain ignored. “Don’t get cocky about it. The color choice was a coincidence.”

Peter smiles lopsidedly and glances down at you. “I wasn’t sayin’ it was, babe.. But now you’ve got me thinkin’..” He ponders, quirking one of his eyebrows again and waving the silicone in the air mockingly, his thumb resting on the button of the vibrator keenly.

“It was the only color left in stock.” Liar.

Noticing his disbelieving gaze and cocky smirk, you know that you are just digging yourself a bigger hole. You grit your teeth, darting your hand out to try and grab your toy but to not avail, it doesn’t seem like he was giving it back anytime soon.

That annoys you more than it would if it was anyone else, but it's Peter, the most childlike, insufferable, annoying jerk you had ever had a silly crush on passionate hatred for.

You step closer to once more grab your embarrassing secret, but Peter yanks it down and hides it behind his back gleefully. You can't stop that quick move, but you manage to grab Peter by the bicep and push him back and against the bedside table.

You realize that you are now standing really close to him; one side of your body is pressed against Peter’s and you can even feel his tickling breath on your face. Peter stares at you with that twisted, amused look for a few more seconds before he starts blabbering again.

“I guess that you're more of a naughty chick than I was thinkin’, huh?” He speaks in a weird, yet somehow seductive, low voice.

A high-speed buzz trembled next to your ear and you turn, only for your eyes to set on the vibrator Peter was clutching, the silicone moving in rapid motion as he fiddled with the settings.

“This surely ain’t the fastest it can go?” Peter asked rhetorically, and you noticed as his teasing expression switched, as if he were struck dumb with surprise. “Pretty lame if you ask me babe.”

You clench your jaw as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, the suggestive undertone from his words not going unnoticed by you. You fight against it, not wanting to blush and give Peter more satisfaction.

Another ego boost you fear may be fatal, but you can't help it; your cheeks turning crimson. Peter notices and giggles, nibbling the side of his lip.

“Ya know yer look totally bitchin’ when yer blushing?” He says coyly, and that comment only makes your blush intensify, however you refuse to back down. Nothing you do can bring you back from an endless lifetime of teasing hanging over your head.

“Stop that,” you say harshly, albeit shakily “And give me the vi-.. Just give it back,” Your nose wrinkles at the mere word, embarrassed to come to terms with what your best friend has found in your drawer. You tug Peter’s arm, harder this time, but he doesn't relinquish.

“Yer want it back?” he teases and you know exactly what's coming next. “Then come get it,” Peter pulls back his arm. Fwip. He stands confidently at the other side of your bedroom. You groan. “Why do you always have to act like this?!” You yell, exasperated but not surprised, feebly running after him.

Peter is now standing in the middle of your bathroom with a shit-eating grin and the vibrator dangling in his hand, joyfully inspecting the streaks of silver running along it.

You can only imagine what he is thinking in this moment, the thought of you spread out on your bed, thrusting your toy in and out at a steady pace, soft whimpers and praises of his name squeaking out of you. Peter’s cock twitched at the mere thought.

“Come on babe, if you want it back, you have to fight for it,” he goads, waving the vibrator right in your face.

That's it, you have to stop this now.

You throw yourself against Peter and you both fall back onto the bed. You struggle for a moment and the speedster is giggling the whole time, evidently amused by the situation. He surely loves torturing you like this and the thought of that makes you feel even angrier and struggle harder.

You keep trying to yank his right arm, but Peter pushes you back and hides the hand that's holding the vibrator behind his back once more, sporting a borderline malicious grin.

“What, babe? Are yer gonna give up now?” He teases with an evil smirk that makes you lose it again. You push him forward and manage to make him fall back in the bed. Then you get on top of him, straddling Peter as a way to keep him from moving, but the effort seems to be futile as he keeps shifting under you; his head ducked in the hollow of your neck and one of his hands holding you back by the hip.

After a moment, he stops struggling and you realize that Peter is breathing heavily. You can feel his warm breath brushing the side of your neck and you notice that your own breathing is hitching too.

You pull back, observing Peter's devil gaze. In record time, literally, Peter flipped your positions, his hands snaking into yours as he holds them either side of your head. You stay quiet, glancing up at your best bud and awaiting his next move.

Glancing down at your lips, Peter’s tongue protrudes as he swipes it across his own, chest heaving in excitement. “If yer gave me the chance, babe?” His words were sincere and low.

“I could take real good care of ya.” Peter’s now dark gaze looks up and bores into your own, emphasizing his words in a way that had you needing him already.

You gulped as your breath hitched, your legs involuntarily rubbing together for friction. Arousal seeped from your entrance, beginning to soak your panties, being concealed only by the oversized sleep shirt you had over you.

If Peter had this effect on you with just his words, you wondered how you would survive with him balls deep inside. The thought alone made your thighs quake.

You weren’t stupid. You were very aware of Peter’s dating history and his tendency to ‘get around.’ But could you blame him? With the power to move any part of his body at mind bogglingly rapid speeds, you were surprised that there wasn’t a line of women outside his dorm room each night, cash in hand.

Peter was a respectful lover, of course, making it known his intentions from the get-go, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure from the inexperience you had against him. You weren’t a virgin, but you absolutely weren’t experienced either.

Peter felt your legs quivering as he looked down, fighting against the Gods themselves to not moan at the sight before him. Your baggy shirt had lifted up during the tussle, revealing your lace panties, wet from your arousal. His own cock leaked in response, and Peter looked back up, awaiting your response.

He was Peter. Your Peter; and you trusted him wholeheartedly.

“Really?”

“Scout’s honor, babe.” Peter grinned, holding up four fingers. He wasn’t a scout, nor was he holding up the right amount of fingers, but that was enough for you.

Smiling, you nodded, and Peter’s nervous facade dropped instantly as a teasing smirk adorned his features. He sat up to pull his shirt over his head in one swift motion, then leant back down to meet you in a passionate kiss.

Your lips parted instantly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth while his fingers found the hem of your shirt, sliding up until the pads of his fingers tickled and grazed your waist. Peter hummed in content, enjoying the slight jolts your body made in reaction to his soft touches.

Sliding his hand along your spine, your back arched, allowing Peter to pull you up into a sitting position and gently take off your shirt. Once the material was discarded on the floor and you were left in just your panties, Peter grinned like a schoolboy at the sight of your bare chest, watching your nipples gradually harden from the exposure to the cold air.

A low groan rumbled from the back of his throat as he leant forward to blow cool air on your tits briefly, making you whimper and curl your hands into his unbelievably soft hair that you were impossibly jealous of.

He leaned back quickly to remove his shirt, discarding it in the general direction where he threw yours.

Peter’s focus moved back to your face, taking you in another sweet kiss as his chest collided with yours. The warmth between your bodies was comforting, especially when Peter pressed them together and pulled back from the kiss to travel back down. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, moving to the underside with an unsuspecting nip, making you gasp and clutch onto his hands.

Your eyes closed as Peter worked on your chest, nipping, licking and sucking the both of them, leaving a trail of marks that showed your belonging to him. When his soft touches subsided, you opened your eyes, only to be met with Peter’s dark ones and a smirk gracing his pinkish lips.

You were about to question him on why he stopped before he shushed you and tilted his head teasingly.

“Be honest with me, babe. Yer bought that vibrator with me in mind.” Peter smiled cheekily as you flushed once more, shaking your head in denial.

“It was just a big coincid-” you stopped mid sentence as your best friend quirked his eyebrow, disbelief coating his expression. You sighed.

“I guess.. It might've been at the back of my mind..” you mumbled almost inaudibly, averting your gaze due to the sheer embarrassment of admitting your dirty secret to the very last person you intended to tell.

Peter mockingly leaned closer towards you, cupping his ear with his hand as if it were impaired. “I’m sorry, babe, couldn’t hear yer there. What did ya say?” You glared at him, only making him laugh and continue with the gesture until you did what he wanted.

“Okay- fine! Yes, it was about you. Don’t be gettin’ so cocky about it, alright?” You admitted, exasperated.

Peter snickered jovially, his chest puffing out in show that your words had already given him the ego boost he was craving for. You could barely revel in your humiliation before you gasped, a buzzing emitting from your clit that made you writhe in a frenzy.

“All yer had to do was tell me the where and when, babe.” Peter grinned, gazing at your blissful expressions as the pads of his fingers pressed deeper into your clit, making you rock your hips into his hand. “Yer don’t need that toy when ya have the living, breathing, undoubtedly sexier thing.” You failed to answer, instead nodding vigorously and whimpering.

The buzzes came to an abrupt stop as his hands slid back out of your soaking panties, and you whined at the loss of contact, humping the air to gain some sort of friction to keep you going.

Peter snickered beside you, a comment about how needy you were for him going unnoticed by you as you whined for his touch.

You gripped onto his hands tight, gasping as Peter once more began kissing down your chest, but this time passing your breasts and moving down your stomach, peppering kisses along the way.

“Your skin is so fuckin’ soft,” Peter groaned, grabbing your thighs with a “c’mere” and pulling you towards him “what typa baby powder are yer usin’, huh?” His voice blabbered on and you let out a sound that was between a chuckle and a moan, your chest heaving as you awaited his heavenly touches.

Hooking your aching legs over his shoulders, Peter reached for the strap of your underwear, his fingers hooking underneath and sliding them off. You could faintly hear the fumble of the material, unknowing that Peter had shoved your wet panties in his trouser pocket.

One of his hands reached upwards to join with yours again, giving you the added reassurance that you would be okay and safe with him.

Your mind completely dissociated from anything other than him as Peter parted your sticky folds with his tongue, sliding the wetness up until he reached the other end. He giggled into your core, making you furrow your brows in confusion but shiver at the vibrations rippling through you.

“I was thinkin’.. It just reminded me of that old guy parting the seas.” Peter chuckled, and your head lifted up to look at your best friend in pure shock. ”What was his name? Monty? Moses? Moses! It was Moses.”

The Fuck?

“You seriously cannot be quoting the bible whilst eating me out, Peter.” You couldn’t believe what he just said. He couldn’t have been the furthest from sexy in this moment, and yet your body was still trembling from anticipation and want. You laid back down, chuckling from the irony and utter bullshit Peter spew out.

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter grimaced, cringing at his own actions “not the time.” Letting out a breath of hot air that hit your center, you gasped, immediately forgetting about what just occurred.

Peter dove in fully this time, leaving you almost no time to prepare as his tongue swirled around your slick in a way that had you clawing at your interlocked hands, gripping Peter so tightly you feared you may be cutting off his circulation.

Your body jolted uncontrollably, and using his other hand, Peter pressed it against your stomach to cease your movements, your skin burning up underneath his touch.

The bed rocked underneath you, not only from your involuntary movements but from the relentless thrusts Peter made on the bed, his cock hardening from your squeaks and moans that he was creating. He humped the bed, groaning into your core, only adding in the stimulation and pleasure, taking you to the brink of screaming so loud that Ororo could be able to hear you from the other side of the mansion.

Peter’s nose tickled your clit as he lapped at your heat, giving you that extra stimulation that took you where you needed to get faster. Your breathing quickened as you felt a finger penetrate through your folds and fully into you, making you gasp and clench, begging him to just move. Move.

The mix of his tongue flicking and buzzing your clit and his now two fingers pumping you in and out sent you into a frenzy, your moans only spurring Peter on, taking him to the edge of his own release.

The only thing you could think about was Peter and the exhilarating pleasure that he was providing you. You seized up as if you were in fear his actions would stop altogether, burning pressure building inside of you to the point you felt like you might explode.

With a curl of his fingers against a particularly spongy spot inside of you, you cried out Peter’s name as your back arched expertly off the bed, blazing intense bliss shooting out from your core and spraying the mattress, your thighs and Peter’s face.

Crying out once more in pure euphoria, your back hit the bed as you spasmed, Peter’s tongue working you through your orgasm.

Breathing heavily, you shuddered as Peter’s fingers slid out of you, a trail of your sticky release coating his digits. He all but moaned at the sight, arousal pooling in his belly as he unconsciously jutted his hips forward once more, seeking and finding the contact for his rock hard erection that was painfully constricted in the tight confines of his pants.

After a few more sharp thrusts, a filthy moan came out from Peter, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and thick ropes of hot cum spilling into his underwear.

As your high came to an end Peter moved to kneel above you, putting his slick-covered fingers into his mouth and closing his eyes, humming at the taste. You didn’t even have the strength to utter out thanks to Peter, watching him tiredly as he wiped his chin of arousal.

He leant down briefly to kiss the inside of both your quivering thighs before laying them down to rest against the mattress.

Humming a low chuckle at your blissed out state, Peter took you into a delicate kiss, the taste of yourself and the heat of your altercation invading your senses. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling away after short intervals for air.

“Well?” he said, tucking a sweaty strand behind your ear.

“Well what?”

“Was it better than the vibrator?” Peter smirked, leaving wet kisses and hickies along your jawline that your peers would surely question about tomorrow.

You let out a few breaths, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that you just fucked your bestfriend.

“I think you know the answer to that, Peter.” You breathed lightly as his hair tickled your cheeks. He grinned against the skin of your neck, encouraging a tired smile of your own to break out.

He then sat up promptly, adorning a mischievous smile before using his speed to grab the vibrator, you watching him with wide eyes.

You thought he had the intentions for a second round, but you were dumbfounded as he sped over to your balcony, stepping outside and using his speed to throw the toy as far as a speedster deemed possible.

“Peter!!” You screeched, jumping out and quickly pulling on his tee, of which thankfully covered your bare bottom half, running up to the balcony and staring into the vast darkness. “That was mine, you airhead! You have to get it back!”

“It didn’t even work that well, princess.” Peter promptly shrugged at his actions, bending down to throw you over his shoulder. You screech once more, flinging your arms about in an attempt to cover your bare lower half, a string of obscenities leaving your sore throat.

He threw you onto the bed under the covers, disappearing for a nanosecond to clean up and then reappearing, wearing a sweatshirt and sleeping pants. Peter crawled under with you, nuzzling into your neck contently as if he hadn’t just lobbed your expensive toy to the other side of the continent.

You scoffed, pushing against his head. “I can’t believe you’ve actually just done that.”

Still unrelenting, Peters warm hands slowly rubbed up and down your thigh, as if trying to hypnotize you into sleep. “No regrets,” he grinned, voice slightly muffled as his breath hit your neck “besides, yer have me now babe.”

“Really?” You looked up at the ceiling in shock, not even thinking about what all this actually meant. “Like, as a couple?”

Peter nodded gleefully, moving his head away to look up at you with tousled hair and droopy eyes. “Just imagine, i can be your strong, handsome, ladies man, dreamy, seductive, great music taste, badass boyfriend that you can show off to all friends and family.” You laughed at his dreamy sigh, caressing your fingers into his hair.

“Seductive?” You question, your teasing smirk letting him know you were only joking around. “I would hardly compare you to Patrick Swayze.”

Peter gasped overdramatically, his hand quickly removing itself from your thigh, clenching it by his chest as if he were heartbroken. “Babe, have you seen my smoulder? The chicks faint at the sight.” You turn to look at him, only to see him adorning a quirked eyebrow and a theatrical smoulder not-so-gracefully embellishing his face.

You snort, using the hand in his hair to push Peter’s head back into your neck.

“The fact you just referred to women as ‘chicks’ only proves my point, Maxipad.” You say after a brief pause, only to be met with light snoring as Peter’s eyes closed, his arms wrapped around your middle and legs intertwined with your own.

You bit your lip from cheerfulness, relishing in the moment as your arms curl up by his chest, comforted by the heat radiating off his body.

It was the same cuddling as when his leg was broken, only the air had changed to that of intimacy, a warm buzzing feeling in your chest.

So yes, you had found something to do this weekend.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #james patrick march #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #xmen days of future past #xmen headcanon #xmen quicksilver #xmen apocalypse

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unabashedly-so · 8 months

Text

😉 SDV Elliot HC 😘

Flirting.

Content warning: does get a little naughty post 10 hearts, still SFW.

everyone's entitled to their opinion, even if they're wrong, and since i can't be wrong in my own hc post

📣 Elliott is the biggest flirt of all the bachelors.

...and bachelorettes, I feel confident in that too.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say in the whole valley maybe.

you don't see it much in his actual in-game dialogue, but tbf you don't see much of it in anyone's dialogue. The game's not really written like that.

BUT IF IT WAS!!!!! ☝️

I'd hang my hat on this. Elliott's flirt game would be 🔥✨🔥😩😩👌👌👌

he's self-assured, he's foppish and aware of it, and heck SOMEBODY's gotta hear all the GREAT one-liners and colloquialisms he's got bouncing around in his head all day from writing.

once he gets to know someone (mainly knows that they're okay with playful, meaningless flirting), he's just shameless.

he's complimentary: "that shirt really brings out your beautiful [color] eyes!"

he's self-aggrandizing: "did you miss me already?" (<--narrator voice: it's been <10 minutes).

he uses pet names and terms of affection so much you almost think he's forgotten your name but it's too late to ask now. "dear," "darling," "love," "light of my life," "sunshine," "lovely," "beautiful," etc.

he's also self-deprecating, or the damsel in distress, "oh, if only there was someone strong and dashing who could save me from my misery!" (author's note: his misery is an unopened wine bottle.)

✨ D R A M A T I C . ✨ calm down, sir. (read: don't.)

then the praise. oh the praise. "bless you, you kind and radiant soul. My world would be so dark but for your captivating light."

he's probably not one to use a lot of physical touch in his flirtations because, y'know, boundaries. But with a receptive 4-7 heart farmer, he might make some exceptions, particularly if it was farmer-led, and so long as it wasn't genuinely romantic or sexual. Like dancing, brief hand-holding, kisses on the hand, hugs of most kinds, etc.

and if there was something he wasn't comfortable with, he'd first deflect playfully. ie, holding hands for too long, "I haven't gotten my cooties booster this year."

he'd only use pick up lines if he came up with them himself. a man has to have standards, y'know.

so, he'd basically be like this with ANYONE with whom he has a decent enough relationship with (and he knows it wouldn't make them uncomfortable)

But. BUT.

Here's where it gets really interesting. Follow me down......

after a farmer gets his 8 heart scene... he shuts it down.

he stops flirting with them. cold turkey.

for those of you who think graphically like i do, see below for a representation:

so what the heck is going on between 8 and 10 hearts???? why does it actually get WORSE than before he barely knew the farmer????????

aliensfeelings.png

he's not thinking much about any kind of relationship beyond friendship (with anyone, really) while he's working on his novel because he's So Close and that's really invigorating and it kind of overshadows all else.

then the book reading happens, and he hears himself say out loud that he dedicated his novel--his ENTIRE BOOK, arguably his LIFE'S WORK up to this point so far--to the farmer that he only just met a few seasons ago

(not to mention he canonically made it at their behest?!??? (2 heart scene picking the genre))

most authors dedicate first books to, like, their spouse or parents, or childhood best friend, sibling--someone MEANINGFUL, who has STAYING POWER, and has impacted the trajectory of their LIFE..........

🎵oh no.

🎵oh no no no no no.

talk about a fucking tidal wave of realizations that come crashing down on him. Things that he was too swept up in his own head to really realize or fully acknowledge. Like how, oh no, he's actually been putting some heat (and hope) behind his recent flirty interactions with the farmer. y'know, a more sophisticated of "hahaha... unless.....? 👀" Or how, oh no, did their lips always look so kissable? Or, oh no, was that story arc in his novel just an allegory for his subconscious pining? Oh, you mean the one he just READ OUT LOUD to the entIRE TOWN?????

the man's about to go jump into the sea with cement shoes.

and here's the thing: he's very SELF-assured. His confidence comes from knowing his own worth separate of extrinsic factors. But his confidence when it comes to relationships with other people??? Far less assured. He knows he can be intense in some ways, and not everybody wants that all the time. That stung, having to figure that out the hard way. And now it turns out all the sweet nothings he'd been saying to the farmer are actually emphatically true, but now how's the farmer to know that he's being serious when he says them??? And wouldn't it be so weird to say them with the fervor and hope of it being received genuinely while also having to acknowledge he'd said all those things ingenuously before, but he means them fr now??!?

he's too passionate about his adorée to want them to feel that he was being facetious with them, but was he not???

Oh, Elliott...

Despair(TM)-2

so he stops all flirting with the farmer. He doesn't ice them out, he just... acts a little differently. Where once he might have greeted them with a melodramatic tale of how he missed them so... instead he says, "It's wonderful to see you again."

it's almost like he treats them warmly, but professionally. The friendliness, warmth, sincerity is all still there but the jokes have faded away and he's a little more... stilted. It's about as subtle as he can be (ymmv), but the change is definitely... perceptible.

it's even worse when you take into consideration the bouquet, omfg. it DOES grant him a sense of security, but this is man is a ROMANTIC who is INTENSELY PASSIONATE. He's got a foot in the door, but doesn't want to scare them away by suddenly becoming overbearing. 8-10hearts is a bit of a tightrope walk for him, as he navigates getting closer to the farmer and being aware that not everyone can (or wants to) handle all he has to give (which is fine!).

he tries to give little tastes here and there but..... subtlety is not his strong suit, and he knows it.

and maybe the farmer has to confront him about it at some point, ymmv. it could very much be a "it's not you, it's me" conversation that leads to ???? or in this hc post, it leads to the 10heart event, where Elliott knows he has to let go of his fears and commit.

Despair(TM)-2_final_FINAL

It's just so hard because apparently this farmer really, really means a lot to him.

whoops how'd that happen *sweeps mountain of duck feathers and pomegranates under the rug*

without getting into the 10heart scene too much, I'd just also like to point out how fucking funny it is because you KNOW this romantic ass man has day dreamed so many different scenarios of expressing his love and adoration and when the moment finally arrives he just... totally flops. poetic.

but anyway once that's all established and good, the flirting comes back with a vengeance.

a saucy, naughty, 🌶️spicy🌶️ vengeance.

now that he's figured out where the new boundaries are, he's unafraid to use any opportunity (within reason) to express his adoration for them and reaffirm his commitment to them.

example, farmer teases him over a glass of wine, "wine on your tongue got you slurring, El?" To which he smirks, and lets out a low hum. "It's the wine now and you later, my love."

sometimes it's stupid, like stage whispering to Leah as you join them at the Saloon, "don't look now, but a ten just walked in. Should I talk to them? Do you think I have a chance?" (you're married, btw.) Leah's heard this before and says, "No."

sometimes if you're holding hands, he'll just start spontaneously pull you into a wrap in and dance with you, murmuring some lines of spicy poetry he writes and shares only with you. Sometimes this happens at home or on the farm, but not always.

but one way he NEVER flirts with you again is with anything that would put his adoration of you into question for even a moment. You may as well hang the moon and stars for him, and he'll never once let you forget or doubt that. 💖

sometimes it's just so infuriatingly cocky. "I hope you'll still love me when I'm so old and senile that I forget my own name."

"Of course I will."

"You make me so happy, dear. I just hope I can maintain the stamina needed to properly ravish it out of you."

#im just love him ok #sdv #sdv elliott #stardew valley #unabashedly posting #some of these are probably a little more on the silly side of canon compliant #but what fun is flirting if you dont make an ass of yourself sometimes???

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gottagho-st · 5 months

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it’s currently like 30ish degrees (celsius) but also storming which is Not Fun for the asthma, but it also got me thinking about the ghouls and weather which seems like a great way to distract myself from the humid misery i’m living rn lmfao

i know plenty of people have spoken about that kinda thing before but i wanted to add my thoughts :))

Only a couple of ghouls under the cut - I will probably add to this as I think of more ideas 🫶🦇

Mountain 🏔️

He’s an earth ghoul so as expected, he loves the changes that come with the transition from winter to spring. The way he can sit immersed in nature and feel the earth around him breathe back to life, the plants awakening from their slumber. Everything about spring is beautiful to him, that includes the endless days of rain and sunshine battling for dominance, even when he wishes the rain would cease to enjoy the warmth of the sun - he knows his plants need it.

I also think that he would sort of respect the opposite transition of the seasons, at the end of summer - once the time for harvest has come to a close - and the earth is preparing itself for the hardships of the winter. Autumn is quietly probably his favourite season of all, the beauty of his plants knowing that they must die back so that they may have the opportunity to flourish when the time is right again. He could spend quiet hours in the greenhouses, revelling in the shelter they provide whilst he is still immersed in the crisp air of fall, bundled against cool gusts of wind. he would prepare all of his ‘drama-queen’ plants with such tender care, how could he not adore this time of year?

Dewdrop 🔥

Depends on his mood - when he was still water it was always the sunniest, hottest days that he found himself looking forward to, simply because it meant an opportunity to not only immerse himself in his element to cool off, but the rest of the pack tended to join him down at the lake when it was hot enough. He loved to be there with his family and his element all rolled into one!

Once he transitioned, he started to resent heat more - he could never escape it now, and the cool waters of the lake that once were comforting now seem to make his skin crawl. So when he’s most comforted as a fire ghoul is long wintery nights, after a slight dusting of snow. Those are the evenings where he feels the most valuable, providing his pack with warmth and love whilst they huddle together. However, if he is already vulnerable, the snow is simply too much for him to handle, the way he once could walk out and feel in kiss his skin if he so wished, ripped away after the transition. Icy particles long turned to steam before they reach his body. At these times, what he craves most his a gentle evening breeze, the kind at the end of summer, where he feels most at peace with the flames flowing through his veins.

Cirrus 🌪️

She is of course very attuned to the air itself, the atmosphere and its behaviour influences her very soul. However, Cirrus was born of the tempestuous winds of the Pit, so while she is enthralled by the gentlest of gusts rolling in over the lake, her body and heart and soul sing at the first signs of a storm on the horizon.

Her favourites are those with less rain - although hail and sometimes even snow make the phenomenon even more interesting to her. Simple storms that whip her hair from its braids with the power of their winds, when she can taste the electricity in the air before every devastatingly beautiful strike of lightning, with the rumble of thunder overhead, those are the ones that she cherishes most. It’s even better in the evenings, just after the sun has sunk into the earth, when she can sit just beyond the abbey’s doors and immerse herself in her element.

Aurora 🌌

The pack all expected her to be the type of ghoul to enjoy the picture-perfect ‘just warm enough’ spring days, and she does cherish those, for they are when she gets to spend precious time with her family, all of them drawn outside to help mountain with whichever project is most pressing at the time. However, she has come to realise over her time topside, that she sees herself in the heaviest of rains, when torrents come pouring from above, soaking the earth and everything on it, blocking the blue of the sky with only grey. Her heart yearns for the days throughout autumn where it is not yet cold enough for snow, and she can relish in the steady beat provided by water cascading over the grounds laid out around the abbey.

She doesn’t simply watch and listen though. No, Aurora is always able to be found out in the grassy fields by the greenhouses, dancing in the downpour - a ritual of worship to the Lord below for providing her the freedom to experience the changes in climate topside. Originating from a perpetually parched, dry desert within the pit, her heart swells at the opportunity to become drenched by nature itself.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul headcanons #spooks ramblin’#spooks hcs #ghost band #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette

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whatwouldvalerydo · 2 years

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Carnage Circus 🔥Part 10/? - Against fate

When one isn't on the same page as the rest, things start to fall apart. Selene belongs to the amazing and wonderful @lifeofkaze

Characters mentioned in passing belong to @kc-and-co @that-scouse-wizard @the-al-chemist @cursebreakerfarrier

Tag list: @samshogwarts @hogwartsmysteryho

Having had enough of taking in the circus grounds, Selene decided the thick crowd of people had nothing noteworthy to offer. Truly, utterly boring apart from one event, one she could not follow up on. But then again there was so much she could see or listen in on from her enclosed space.

However she knew exactly what could lift her spirits and not result in a dull affair. Circling around a specific tent she knew all too well, she heard Ethel’s signature bored sigh just as Selene peered inside “Whatever is the matter my dear friend?”

Looking absolutely miserable with the outcome, Ethel poked Talbott with her foot as if to prove the point of her misery “My source of entertainment passed out. But I must admit he has a strong stomach this one.”

Suppressing a giggle, Selene hopped inside, bending at the middle to get a closer look at the detectives’ face “I see. Well, may I?” she enquired pointing at him.

Ethel only shrugged her shoulders, nodding eventually “All yours, enjoy. Not like he is of anymore fun for me.”

A few minutes later, with the help of a very grumpy Reuben, the body of the unconscious detective sat in the middle of Selene’s tent, her hovering above him from her hoop. Gradually she witnessed Talbott come to, eyes suddenly wide as he could not recognise his surroundings. Selene continued to watch him with curiosity, a sinister spark in her eyes, more than likely concocting a plan of her own on how to best handle him.

Silently sharing glances, his hand slowly went to his pistol, horror creeping up his spine when he could not find it in its holster.

“Do not threat. I will return your hideous gun once we are done here.”

“You do know I can arrest you for that.”

She smiled, revealing pearly white teeth as she extended her hands out challenging him “But see detective, you won’t. Especially since with my ability I can force you to forget a lot.” Swinging from left to right, the image before Talbott’s eyes blurred around the edges, the only focal point being her and those mesmerising eyes “But I won’t do this…at least not today.”

Feeling dizzy, Talbott stumbled back, barely managing to catch his footing, brain scrambling to form a sentence “How so? I know people went mad trying to discover the secrets of this place.”

“Perhaps.” She nonchalantly added “But word around here is that you might be the one to force the hands of face. For that reason alone I shall help you. To the best of my abilities of course.”

“Of course.” He replied glaring, diverting his gaze away from her a second later “Just don’t be too offended miss Fraser if I will take everything with a grain of salt.”

Smirking, she just nodded once “None taken detective. Although I must warn you, I am incapable of actually telling you too much. Cursed binds you see. Nifty little things.”

“Let me guess, Akira is preventing you from uttering a word?”

Her brows lifted, amusement shinning in her eyes “You really have it out for him I see. Akira runs a very tight ship, tighter than I would personally like. I have been patient enough but it’s been years since he had the key to our freedom in front of him and he has failed to make use of it.”

“The key?”

Sighing, she shook her head spinning on the spot “You truly are clueless. I’m talking about that lass Talia.” Her image appeared to blur this time as she spun faster and faster “The piece to free us all.”

“Nothing you are saying is making any sense.” There was no hesitation in his voice, his tone laced with anger, everything reflecting in his gaze as well.

“As I said” she huffed annoyed “there is only so much I can say. But you are a detective and yet you aren’t actually doing the work, so odd, never met one like you.”

“Odd yes, like everything happening here.” Talbott witnessed Selene’s mood shifting, eyes travelling to the high ceiling, strong winds howling around the tent “Who are you linked to?”

Her attention fell back down on the detective “We were a two for two deal, me and Ethel. We are connected to one another first and foremost, but our destinies are linked to Siobhan.”

His brows knitted together “And who is she connected to?”

“Akira of course, she is his second in command. One more word of advice.” She added as she made her way to the ground “Search deeper, beyond us, before us. We cannot say much, but he can enlighten you. Now go, something is happening.” Passing him his gun, Selene ran outside, the strong winds wiping her hair around.

Frantically searching, Ethel ran to her, wrapping her arms around her friend “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, but something is wrong.”

Talbott joined the girls, witnessing the tents about to be blow away, people leaving the circus, running away from the incoming storm “It’s just a storm, nothing major.”

“No.” Reuben spoke, appearing with Leila and Siobhan by his side “Akira isn’t here and it’s all falling apart. He took Talia as well, I saw them leaving.”

Siobhan went pale in an instant, looking around, cursing violently “No, no. I don’t want this. I can’t do this.”

Placing a firm hand on her shoulder, Reuben brought her back to reality “It’s not over yet, he wouldn’t risk her life like that and you know it.”

“Do I?” she turned snapping at him “Nothing makes sense anymore, nothing. And what are you still doing here? Can’t you see you’re making things worse for us?” she added turning to Talbott “Do something useful and get them back.”

Talbott could only watch the group, not understanding a thing, Selene pushing him “Go. We can’t get away, but you can.” Her eyes were desperate, as if pleading him to understand. As Talbott left the camping area, only Reuben and Siobhan followed him to the circus entrance.

“Now does anyone want to explain to me exactly what is happening?” he witnessed Reuben and Siobhan stealing glances at each other while saying nothing. From afar he could still see in the distance Ethel, Selene and Leila watching them, not moving, waiting on the next move.

The howls of the wind carried with it a sort of whisper and the odd scent of blood filled the atmosphere. It lingered around them, sticking to the material of their clothes. The screams from the haunted house appeared louder now that the last people were leaving the circus, tension as if electricity in the air.

Talbott saw Selene waving, however he could make out what she was saying. She pointed her finger at the entrance all of them turning around. Down the path, Talia struggled to keep herself and Akira on his feet, each step more strenuous than the other. Siobhan let out a sigh of relief, wishing to pass the threshold to help them, but Reuben stopped them.

“You can’t and you know it.”

Talbott provided them an incredulous look, running over to the pair, helping Talia bring Akira back. As soon as they crossed the threshold, it was as if they could breathe once more, Reuben and Siobhan helping them back to their caravans.

As Talbott stood in the middle of the camping area looking after Talia, Selene came near him “Don’t bother with her, she’s useless. Go find the one before Akira. Only then will you get the proper answers.” Turning around, she was nowhere to be seen, as if vanishing with the last gust of wind passing through the circus.