#i can write about them forever it never gets any less intense

[lovelynarusasu]

reading Naruto volume 4 and reflecting on how usually the MC of shonen-type stories becomes strong bc the girl he loves gets hurt or killed in front of him (this trope belongs in jail) but Naruto becomes strong, first unleashing Kurama's power, bc Sasuke gets badly hurt in front of him. he goes so insanely feral bc Sasuke's hurt.

like Sakura's right there. but of course it's Sasuke. and yeah you could say ''oh he would've reacted the same for Sakura'' and yeah maybe he would have. but that's not what Kishimoto wrote.

Sasuke's truly the only heroine from the start. and it's so incredibly emphasized how he is Naruto's 大切な人 "precious person" (along with Iruka), really if I read this for the first time as an adult my gaydar would react violently

[roanofarcc]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings. 

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do. 

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting. 

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long. 

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand. 

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused. 

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone. 

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?” 

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up. 

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings. 

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused. 

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.” 

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned. 

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.” 

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows. 

“You don’t want a relationship, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, quickly. 

“But I do.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?�� 

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous. 

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.” 

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room. 

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual. 

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day. 

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat. 

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?” 

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.” 

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.” 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t. 

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said. 

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.” 

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.” 

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.” 

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left. 

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.” 

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.” 

That didn’t sound so bad. 

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated. 

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you. 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.” 

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it. 

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said. 

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table. 

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside. 

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you. 

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile. 

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else. 

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.” 

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.” 

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?” 

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate. 

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered. 

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t. 

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks. 

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut. 

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard. 

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently. 

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer. 

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster. 

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly. 

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest. 

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead. 

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated. 

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead. 

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe. 

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious. 

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips. 

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said. 

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?” 

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.” 

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.” 

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.” 

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.” 

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl. 

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down. 

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded. 

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile. 

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?” 

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.” 

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big. 

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.” 

“They’re pretty. Thank you.” 

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it. 

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.” 

You sighed, “But-” 

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.” 

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.” 

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.” 

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level. 

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.” 

[allfearstofallto]

The way you write yandere childe makes me literally salivate omg <333 would you mind doing any of A, C, D, H, N, O, W, or Z for him? I hope you don’t feel pressured to write all or any if you don’t want to 😭

No pressure at all friend!! I love writing for Childe!! Trust me! I've been waiting for someone to ask for him!!!

TW: Dub/Non-Con, NSFW, Violence against reaader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Childe always has cold hands. You know this, because his hands are always on you. There isn't a moment where Childe is near you where he's not touching you.

It could be something as simple as interlocking his fingers with yours or going as far to force kisses upon you, ones where it feels like he's trying to swallow you whole with his tongue down your throat.

He says he just can't keep his hands off of you and that truly does seem to be the case. His cold fingers always find a way to snake themselves onto some part of your body. A sign of affection yes, but also a warning.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He took you because he loves you and wants you near, but Childe isn't against matching the energy you give him. He's playful at heart, after all, but even that has it's limits.

Being soft towards you is his original goal, he wants to pamper you and adore you while you're less than a few feet away. But shoot him glares or fight him off? He can do the same, the only difference is, he's stronger.

He knows that physical wounds will always heal, but that words last forever, so even when he hurts you, he tells you how much he still loves and cares about you. He's only doing this because you can't seem to stop acting up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Childe's presence alone is against your will. He knows that, so he makes sure to always be near you. Who would've thought that such an annoying man could actually be a Fatui harbinger?

Around every corner, behind every door, it seems like he's even in every room. Childe is always there, even when you don't want him to be. He does many things that you hate, kissing you, hugging you, forcing his affection onto you whenever he pleases, but the worst thing he does is be there.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It was just a smile. That's what you told him, but that's what he refused to believe.

You smiled at the man with the funny hat. One of Childe's coworkers if you remember correctly. That man shot you a glare and out of pure nerves you smiled back, causing him to look away with his arms crossed. A harmless interaction to you, but one that left your husband fuming.

You were called lots of things that night, slut, bitch, whore. You never smile at him, he'd yell as he fucked you with your face forced against the snowy ground. Your weren't even given the courtesy of a warm bed not when Childe was angry.

You begged him to at least take you indoors. The snow was burning your skin and worst of all, you were embarrassed that someone would see you, but he just scoffed and left another stinging slap on your already sore ass. A whore like you wants to be seen.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishments from Childe can either be the most painful thing you've ever experienced, or a joke made to embarrass you. It honestly just depends on what you did and most importantly, how he's feeling.

You've gotten some of the normal ones. Things like spankings and even a version of “time out” where he made you sit in a corner and think on what you did. But you've also been starved for a week with nothing, but water. Sitting at the dinner table, you'd watch him eat his meal, savoring every bite, while your stomach aches from the hunger pains. You could beg, but Childe typically stood true to his words.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As many as he deems necessary. There are the obvious ones, like not being allowed to leave without his permission, eating your meals with him, sharing your bed with him, things that from the outside looking in seem normal, but are actually just ways for him to have more control over you.

But there are other things he does, things that are a bit more strange. He doesn't like the idea of you even gazing at another man, so all the staff are female. You're dressed to appeal to him, so you wear what he wants you to. Usually things that are revealing in nature, showing off your thighs, chest, and midriff.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

The simple answer is yes. And without hesitance too. Childe is strong. Stronger than he looks and much stronger than his carefree attitude would lead most to believe. Despite his strength, he isn't scared or worried about hurting you.

Be careful of how hard you fight, because he fights back harder. He won't hit you back because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to show you that you can't always get your way, that you can't just expect him to treat you with kindness, when you're not doing the same to him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally, but it does happen. After trying and failing so many times, after hurting you so much, losing yourself day after day, the light in your eyes is finally gone.

It's one of the only things he regrets. He still has you there, but you're hollow on the inside. One day you're there, the next you're just gone. He does everything in his power to completely bring you back, but he's met with dry, whispery responses from you. He knows that you're truly gone when he tempts you with an easy escape, an open door that you could walk out of with no hassle. He left, giving you the opportunity to just waltz out without him to stop you. But when he comes back, you're still there. And that door is still wide open.

[intheemptymirror]

bad habit !

idol!sumin x fem!reader

summary: sumin has a bad biting habit— and you are not exempt from it.

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

warnings: biting (duh), a bit suggestive in the last scenario but it’s fluffy otherwise, sumin and reader are said to be the same age (20), in the first two scenarios sumin and reader aren’t dating yet (just crushes) but in the last two they are (//∇//)

a/n: my first xikers post! and also like my first full fic ever (⌒▽⌒) there’s a serious lack of xikers content on this site, i’ve already read through all of it 💀 but i hope this small fic is enough to make other roady’s on here happy too. i have a jinsik drabble im working on too so pls look forward to that (*´∇｀*) lowkey the second scenario gave me crazy butterflies like it made me giddy af (before the ending anyways) and i was the one that wrote it 😭 but i feel like my writing is super obviously amateur, which makes me a bit embarrassed but hopefully this is an enjoyable read anyways 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

sumin loved to use his teeth.

you found this out when you were both six and in elementary school and he bit you because you took the toy he was wanting to play with for recess. it went about as well as you’d imagine. you started crying before swinging the toy down and hitting sumin on the back with it, causing him to burst out into tears as well. in the end, both of your parents were called and you got the scolding of a life time from your mother when you got home.

sumin brought a sweet flavored candy the next day along with a slightly less sweet apology. he didn’t make eye contact with you and he mumbled out a simple “sorry” and nothing else before shoving the candy your way, but you accepted the both of them nonetheless. you gave him a toothy smile (which in sumin’s opinion was the sweetest thing he had with him that day, though he’d never admit it) before taking his hand in yours and dragging him out to play. despite the severely rocky start to your friendship, the both of you had been inseparable ever since.

maybe it was this first experience with each other that let you stay so close with each other even fourteen years later, because from the very beginning you knew what he was— a biter.

— !

the xiker’s boys had invited you over to one of their dorms for their monthly hangout night— ideally it would be a weekly thing, but their schedules never allowed for rest days that consistently. being sumin’s best friend since before he even knew about the existence of xikers, you had gotten pretty close with the rest of them. of course, sumin has and always will be your favorite— much to the disdain of the others.

you stood behind the couch with a smile on your face while seeun, minjae, and yechan occupied the cushions. all of your gazes were completely locked onto the tv, where a very intense and serious game of mario kart was occurring. “seeun, stop cheating!” minjae yelled out when said boy started to move into minjae’s space in an attempt to distract him, his body being bumped into yechan who was on his right. this only made yechan start to push back against minjae, eventually leading to the three boys getting into each others personal space in an attempt to completely sabotage their gameplay.

their shenanigans caused small giggles to leave your lips, completely unaware of the set of eyes that were locked onto you instead of the game. sumin stood off to the side by the dining table, leaning against the wall with a fond look on his face. when sumin had first thought of introducing you to his members, he was truthfully a little nervous. “what if they don’t like each other?” “what if they get into a fist fight?” “what if someone dies and the night is plagued with that experience forever and as a result they can never get along?” sumin knows now that all of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous (some more so than others), but he truly just wanted all of his favorite people to like each other as much as he did.

“careful, if you stare any harder they might burst into flames.” the flat voice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere made sumin jump before he looked to his left where junghoon was eyeing him with his arms crossed and a knowing look on his face. sumin’s surprise relaxed before he tensed up again at junghoon’s implications. he forced out an awkward laugh and shook his head. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

junghoon didn’t say anything, but with a gaze like his, he didn’t really need to. his expression seemingly stayed the same, but sumin didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows subtly raised. sumin swallowed harshly and seemed to sink into himself as he looked away from junghoon in an unsuccessful attempt to escape his judgment. he looked back over to him before he let out a sigh of acceptance, reluctantly nodding gently. “yeah i know…” sumin mumbled before the sound of your laughter ringing through the air made him bring his attention back to you.

he smiled at how the sight of your smile filled his chest with warmth before he mindlessly started walking over to you, as if following you was simply second nature to him (and he really would follow you anywhere). he comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist, the sudden intrusion causing you to jump before you realize who it is and immediately relax. sumin rests his cheek on your shoulder and smiles up at you as you melt into his warmth. “hi.”

you raise your brow at him as the corner of your mouth starts to twitch up into a ghost of a smile. “hi.” you say back, making sumin’s grin grow before he nudges his face into the crook of your neck. you huff out a laugh and bring your hand up to tangle into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nails. the gentle feeling of your hand in his hair made his body involuntarily relax as he sighed out against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. you turn your attention back to the tv in front of you, but you’re more focused on the way sumin’s warm hands feel pressed against your stomach, his thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth.

“sumin! come help us cut vegetables.” hunter’s voice called out for him from the kitchen, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound and causing sumin’s shoulders to slump and let out a loud groan in protest. “less whining, more helping!” sumin sighed before he smiled in defeat, his teeth brushing against your neck as if forewarning what was to come. he quickly tightened his arms around your waist and bit into your shoulder before unwrapping himself from you and running off to where hunter needed him. “hey!” your hand comes up to touch the spot on your shoulder where his teeth had been, a disbelieving smile on your lips. sumin turns, scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out at you, before turning the corner and disappearing off into the kitchen.

— !

it was one of the very rare times sumin had been granted a break by KQ, and a week long one at that. the company decided that they deserved it after their hard work promoting their recent comeback, but if they asked you, you would’ve said they deserved it always. while some of the boys decided to stay at the dorms, others had ventured their way back home to visit family, sumin being one of them. despite still going to visit him at the dorms often, it never felt like it was enough, so you were over the moon to have him back for a whole week.

the first day or two you had left him alone to spend some much needed time with his parents and brother, but after that he had crawled his way back to you, claiming that it had been too long since he last saw you (two days) and pestering you non-stop to spend the night. ‘just like humans need water to survive, sumins need y/ns to survive,’ is what he had said, which only earned him an eyeroll and light smack to the head.

and so, you both laid side by side in the dark of his room, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. you laid on your side with your hands rested in the empty space between you two, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other but not so close that you were actually touching.

you let out a soft giggle, trying your absolute hardest to stay quiet so as not to disturb his family from their sleep. “okay, okay. if you had to be stranded in the middle of space with any of your members, who would you pick?”

“i’d take my helmet off.” you let out a huff of air and smacked him on the arm, making sumin giggle out and put his hands up in surrender.

“okay, okay! i’m kidding! hm… jinsik.” sumin says with a decisive nod of his head. you smile and raise your eyebrows.

“really?” sumin lets out a small ‘mhm’ and nods making you hum in thought and nod slowly. a cheshire like smile grows on your face as an idea starts to form in your head. “that’s not that surprising i guess. if it was between being stuck in the middle of space with me or being stuck in the middle of space with jinsik, who would you choose?”

“you.”

he said the word with so much conviction, as if it was a message written by the hand of god himself and delivered to you through the mouth of sumin. the sturdiness of his word caught you off guard, your smile falling as everything grows quiet between the two of you. the rest of the world seems to fall away as you stare at him and he stares at you. you watch his eyes drift across your face: your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips. you let your own eyes wander down to his lips, swallowing harshly when his gaze snaps back up to your eyes and catches you.

his hand shifts in the bed slightly, as if he was scared that any sudden movements would scare you off entirely; would scare you off eternally. when you don’t do so much as even flinch, he takes a deep, shaky breath as if to steel himself before he stretches out his pinky to gently touch the soft side of your hand. you look down at your hands before looking back into sumin’s eyes, your own pinky moving to gently rest itself over his. you sit like that for a moment, interlocking your pinkies before he gently takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. you let the perfect feeling of his hand pressed against yours sink into your bones, seeping through the marrow to rest gently in the deepest part of your soul, where you decided it would stay protected for the rest of your life.

your heart stutters as he shuffles just that much closer, his eyes drifting back down to your lips. you subconsciously hold your breath in anticipation, the tension between you two looming over like a thick blanket. he blinks a few times, as if shaking a thought out of his head before he drags your connected hands up to his mouth and sinks his teeth into the plush skin on the side of your hand. you let out a gasp and squeal as you try to pry your hand from his assault, your joint laughters replacing the odd feeling that had overtaken the room previously. the tension disappeared, never to be mentioned again that night.

— !

you swung your arms back and forth as a gentle summer breeze blew through your hair, your sandals being held in one hand by the straps. you stared at the sandy ground, watching as the warm water of the ocean reached the tips of your toes only to slink back again as you waited for sumin to show up. you guys had been dating for about a month at this point and had hung out multiple times throughout, but this was your first official date. you had once mentioned to him offhandedly that you would’ve liked to go to the beach with a boyfriend, something you thought he would’ve long forgotten, but he surprised you when he asked if you were free that weekend, telling you he was taking you out on that date.

he had a short practice that morning so he told you to go on ahead and that he’d meet you there straight after. you were strung a bit tight from nerves, so you had gotten there about 15 minutes prior to the meet up time, so you knew you would be waiting a bit, but you still couldn’t help but feel nervous that maybe sumin was going to stand you up. you knew sumin, maybe even more than you knew yourself, so you know deep down he’d never do something like that, but your brain had a funny way of hating you, filling your head with negative thoughts. you gently walked back and forth a few paces along the shore line: what if he never shows up? what if after this date he decides he doesn’t really like me that way? what if he dies trying to meet me here?

“y/n!”

you hear a loud voice call for you from behind, turning to look over your shoulder at the source. and there he was: standing a few feet away at the top of the concrete steps leading to the beach, out of breath and a little sweaty, with a smile you thought burned you brighter than the hot summer sun ever could. sumin— your sumin.

you smile back and raise your hand to wave at him. he bolts towards you, skipping the last few steps of the stairs and stumbling from the unstable grounding of the sand before barreling towards you without any signs of slowing down. you giggle and brace yourself for impact before he reaches you, his arms coming out to wrap around your waist and lifting you up. he stumbles forward into the water, splashing some of it up onto you both, but neither of you can really bring yourselves to care all that much.

he shakes you around a bit before he sets you down, staring at you with a love sick smile as you giggle and fix your now messed up hair. “sorry i’m late.”

you shake your head at him. “you’re not late, i was just early.”

he pouts and affectionately squeezes your cheek between his pointer and thumb. “if i ever make you wait then that means i was late.” you scoff and roll your eyes at him but the sparkle in your eye never leaves. “now c’mon. we have a date to attend to.” he leans his face down close to yours, and you close your eyes and scrunch up your nose in surprise before his hot breath hits your cheek and his teeth sink into the warm skin on your face.

you blink in surprise at him as he pulls away with a teasing grin before it registers in your head what he had just done, your brows furrowing and your plump lips morphing into a pout. you had taken a deep breath in preparation to complain but before any words could be let out, he leaned down one more time to press a quick kiss to your cheek, clasping your hand in his and turning to walk towards one of the little food stands someone had set up along the coast. he stuck his tongue out at you through his teeth as if to say ‘gotcha’, but you couldn’t stop your own happy smile from forming on your face, your cheeks warming up from something other than the sun this time.

the feeling of his hand in yours feels different now than it did when you first took his hand on that playground all those years ago, but just like back then, it still feels like you’re holding something precious.

— !

sumin was currently at practice with the rest of his team members, but you missed him, so you were in his bed doom-scrolling on your phone while you waited for him to finish up with practice so you could surprise him. you check how much longer until sumin said he should be back: 30 minutes. you heave a loud sigh into the otherwise quiet room and drop your phone on the bed before closing your eyes and burying your face in his pillow, letting the scent of sumin’s cologne engulf you.

you’re not sure how long you lay like that, but pretty soon the sound of the door swinging open makes you lift your head from the fabric, looking over to the culprit. in the door frame stands an exhausted sumin, his movements sluggish and heavy. he looks up to find you tucked into his bed, his eyes lighting up when he catches sight of you, the view immediately filling him with new energy.

“baby!” he exclaims, dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously before launching himself into your arms. you laugh at how he went from zero to one hundred in seemingly a split second as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your neck. your arms come up to rest around his shoulders as your hand tangles into his soft hair. “missed you.” he mumbles out into your skin before pressing a kiss onto your neck, then your jaw, then your cheek, before your entire face has been touched by his lips. you giggle at the vibration of his words against your neck before the source of your laughs turn into the feeling of his lips on you, your hand on his back soothingly rubbing back and forth on his shoulder blades.

he pulls back to look into your eyes with a lovesick smile on his face, but you’re sure you look the same as you gaze into his eyes as well. his hand comes up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek. “tough practice?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“you have no idea.” sumin replies, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he huffs out a laugh before he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his mouth. already sensing what was happening, you rip your hand out of his grip with a knowing smile. the action only makes sumin laugh before he leans in to gently bite your jaw. you let out a small noise of protest and gently push and smack at his shoulders, but there’s not any force behind it. you break out into giggles as he bites your jaw again before moving down to hook his teeth into your shoulder.

it sends a shudder up your spine as a breathy, nearly inaudible sigh leaves your lips, the action not going unnoticed by sumin. you feel him grin against your skin before pressing a soft kiss to it, the air in the room suddenly growing thick with tension. “what’s wrong baby?” he teases, his hands sliding down your body before his fingers stop to press into the softness of your waist. he sinks his teeth into your shoulder again, keeping his mouth there for longer this time as he sucks a dark spot into the skin. he licks the bruise lightly to soothe it before moving across to your collarbone to bite into that too.

you let him move his teeth across your skin, dark purple and red spots blooming all across your neck, shoulders, and chest. you can hear and feel him groan into your skin at the taste of your skin on his tongue, your chest heaving with every heavy breath you take. you arch your chest into him as you tilt your head back at the attention he’s giving you before you start to gain some clarity and push against his chest to get him to stop.

“w-wait, what about yechan? he could walk in here at any minute.” he pulls back far enough to look at your face, but close enough to keep you in his arms. you looked like a mess: your hair was disheveled, you were still panting from his ministrations, and you were littered with marks and a thin sheen of spit from sumin’s tongue practically everywhere, but sumin still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. despite your distress, sumin seems unbothered at the mention of his roommate, a smirk making its way onto his face, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“he decided to stay behind to practice a bit more.” he leans into your face, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “so we have more than enough time.” he whispers lowly before kissing your lips softly. “to do whatever,” kiss. “we,” kiss. “want,” he takes your lips in his as you let out a weak whine into his mouth before melting into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

maybe this habit of his wasn’t so bad after all.

[s1k0zu]

Hey everyone,

While I was a bit (okay a lot) late to board the Austin train, once I did, I fell HARD. Before I saw him in Dune II, I knew about him, but never thought to take a second look.

Then I saw Dune and I still can't get Austin's performance out of my head. He was amazing! 😍

I've devoured everything I can find with him since then, and I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately, and a scene has been playing on repeat in my mind, so I decided to write it down.

I love all the Feyd fics but I find myself wanting more of Austin and less of Feyd (he's just a bit too intense and I kinda miss the hair). So I came up with the idea below.

Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to try writing about something else. 🫣

Fair warning ⚠️ I've never written any fiction before, so this will probably be a mess...and it's maybe a bit too long.

🔞 It's pure smut, so minors stay away!

Under his skin

You and Austin have been together since before his Elvis movie.

You'd met when you were teenagers and became fast friends, but until you had to spend two weeks locked together in his apartment in Australia, because of the pandemic, that was all you were - friends.

You'd visited him for the weekend and then the lockdown forced you to stay.

The tension between the two of you had started escalating gradually, until one night he couldn't resist kissing you any longer. All it took was that one kiss and you were his forever.

You started getting jobs in the crew of all of his projects so you could stay together, which is why you're now in Budapest on the set of Dune II.

It's early morning and it's already as hot as hell. Add to that the giant sound box you've been setting up, so Austin can film his fight scenes in it later, and you're close to fainting.

You haven't seen Austin in two months, because he was busy training in L.A. and you were on location in Jordan with the rest of the cast.

You flew in with the night flight, dropped your bags at his place and went straight to set. He was already there, getting into costume, and you didn't have the time to see him.

Once you're done setting up and finally have some free time you head to his trailer to surprise him and wish him luck.

You open the door and cool air hits your face. Then you see him and you're sure the chill running down your body isn't from the AC.

He's gloriously naked, a black loincloth is all that covers his body. They've painted his torso with black lines and he's got his bald cap already in place. You've seen him in full costume before, but only in photos. This hits differently.

There's something feral and imposing about him and it's doing things to you. Gone is the sweet, gentle Austin you know and in his place is a man who exudes power and dominance.

His body is pure perfection and you know how hard he worked to get here.

"Hey, Earth to y/n. Are you ok?" Austin's voice comes through the fog.

"Yeah", you sigh, "It's just..."

"What?", he asks, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

"Let's just say if you weren't about to shoot, I'd be ruining your makeup right now", you say, raking your gaze over his gorgeous naked body.

"Fuck", he mutters and steps toward you, biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with want.

"Ah, ah", you stop him, placing a hand on his chest, "makeup."

"Damn you woman! How am I supposed to focus now?", he asks brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing next to nothing here," you tell him, "and you're not the only one having a hard time focusing."

You brush your lips against his and his hands instantly grip your face as he deepens the kiss. All the frustration of not being able to touch each other for the past two months melts as your tongues dance frantically, fighting for dominance.

"I'll make you a deal," you say, panting, "you go slay them with your talent and we can come back here during the lunch break, to finish this."

"Deal", he says huskily in your ear, melting you with his beautiful voice.

A crew member comes in to call him to set and breaks the tension before you two can go any further.

You watch him perform, always in awe of his ability to switch between himself and the character in seconds. You busy yourself with work and bringing him water bottles and towels between takes, and just like that the hours go by and it's time for lunch.

"I can't wait to take this thing off my head. I'm sweating like a pig," Austin says, taking a towel from your hands. He's been doing fighting scenes for the past hour and he's in full combat get up.

"I'll stick around to help with the set. Text me when you're done and we can take a shower," you say, walking your fingers playfully up his chest. You lean up to give him a quick kiss but he grabs your waist to keep you there, turning it into a steamy makeout session.

"I've missed you so much," Austin breathes out, his forehead touching yours.

"I've missed you too," you say, tilting his head lower to kiss his nose.

You disengage and he heads to his trailer so the makeup team can remove his bold cap.

A while later you get a text from Austin:

R u coming? We had a deal remember?

You mutter an excuse and head towards his trailer, willing yourself not to run.

#

When you enter, you see him running a hand through his wet hair, the bald cap gone. He still hasn't removed his costume.

"Want some help with that my lord", you ask, starting to unzip the back of his wetsuit.

When he hears you call him that Austin feels a shiver run down his body. He turns and wraps his arms around you.

"Say that again," he growls.

His eyes are dark with desire and you swear you can see Feyd still lurking in the background, ready to pounce.

"You should play the bad guy more often. It's a good look on you...my lord."

"Yeah? Wanna show me just how much you like it?"

You grip his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and kiss him long and hard, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite his lip when he pulls away and the groan that escapes from his throat sets your whole body on fire.

He returns the favour by placing kisses on your jaw and down your neck. When he reaches your collarbone he gives it a bite in just the right spot, making heat pool between your legs.

You lean into him, feeling his erection against you and bite his earlobe, whispering into his ear: "I want you inside me."

Austin's hands tighten on your ass and he gives you a smouldering look. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he dives in to kiss you again.

You start undressing each other frantically, hands running all over, tongues locked in a dizzying dance. The room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, your moans, Austin's groans and wet kisses.

He grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the shower.

You're both panting while he turns around to fidget with the water tap. You admire his naked body while he adjusts the temperature. He's a work of art - all lean muscle chiselled to perfection.

Your eyes travel down his chest to the trail of hair under his belly button and between his thighs and the sizeable erection he's got. His penis is perfect: a round red tip, its length marbled by veins. You can't wait to taste it and feel it inside you.

You can't believe he's yours.

"My eyes are up here, gorgeous", Austin's amused voice brings you out of your dazed wet dream.

"And what a sight they are," you smile up at him.

After seeing you standing gloriously naked before him, raking your lust-filled stare over his body, Austin can't hold himself back any longer.

His hands come up to grab your face and he bends down to devour you. As the kiss deepens, Austin's hands travel down your body, lingering on your breasts. He pinches one of your nipples and you moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to look at you.

Before you can answer he bends down and licks your neck, slowly descending to your left nipple.

"Fuck you're gorgeous. I can't wait to be inside you."

You start kissing his neck, his chest, his abs, your hands trailing down to his hips. His skin tastes salty from the sweat. You kneel in front of him and lick his length slowly, feeling the veins with your tongue. He lets out a groan and braces himself against the tiled wall.

You place tiny nibbles on the head, squeezing his balls, teasing him. He shudders in ecstasy as you swallow as much of his length as you can and start moving your head up and down slowly.

"Fuck, y/n, you have to stop or I'll come...," Austin pants on top of you. You speed up your pace, locking eyes with him.

Seeing you kneeling before him, your mouth on him, looking at him like that drives him over the edge. Austin comes with a groan and you feel his seed spill into your throat. You take him out of your mouth and give the head a little kiss.

"You taste so fucking good every time," you say standing up.

Austin grabs your cheeks and gives you a rough kiss.

"You have no idea how hot you look on your knees, do you?"

When one of his hands sneaks between your legs and he rubs his fingers on your clit you feel a jolt run over your whole body and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth.

Austin hears you moan, hands digging into his back and throws caution away - he bites down hard on your nipple, sliding his fingers into you.

"Fuck Austin", is all you can say, your mind going blank with pleasure. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you love this new, dangerous and dominant side he's showing you.

Austin places wet kisses and nibbles all over your breasts and stomach, pumping his fingers into you. You writhe in his arms, hands tugging his hair.

When his mouth descends on your clit you moan loudly. He bites it and then licks the sore spot, curling his fingers inside you. This sends jolts of electricity all over your body and you feel yourself coming, nails digging into his hair.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, voice hoarse from lust. You can feel his hard length pressing against your entrance.

Austin groans in pleasure when he hears you moan his name, the pain from your nails digging into his scalp sending bolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

He gets up, grabs your hips and lifts you, your back against the tiled wall.

You look at his soft, puffy lips and can't help kissing him again. Austin groans and slips his tongue into your mouth, making you dizzy.

When he finally breaks the kiss to look at you, you see the passion burning in his eyes, but there's something else there too - something feral. You realise he hasn't shaken Feyd off completely.

That sparks something in you, emboldens you.

"Have your way with me, my lord na-Baron. I'm all yours", you say, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling on it, your hips bucking into him.

Hearing you say that, something in Austin snaps. He can't think anymore, all he knows is that he wants to be inside you, now.

With a quiet growl he bends down to crash his lips into yours, sliding into you in one swift move.

You can't help the cry that comes out of your mouth when he slams into you. You were already wet, but he's big.

The sharp pain quickly turns into intense pleasure as he starts thrusting into you with abandon. You can feel every vein on his hard length as he's stretching you and filling you in the best way.

You've been together for years and every time he enters you feels like the first time. It's like your bodies are pieces of the same puzzle. The feel of him inside you is divine.

Austin doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size, he couldn't even if he wanted to. He's possessed by the desire to be inside you, to own you. He picks up his pace, slamming into you, his teeth leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulders. His left hand is moulded to your thigh, his right squeezing your breast.

You've never seen him like this, so forceful and primal, and you realise you love it. As the pain shoots through the pleasure you find yourself coming, trying not to scream. You mould your lips to Austin's to stifle your moans and that just spurs him on. He continues to slam into you, balls-deep, throughout your climax.

After a while, Austin comes to his senses and realises he's too rough, he's hurting you. Just as he slows down his pace, releasing you from his grip, he hears you say:

"No, don't hold back. I want you to lose control. Ravage me."

He looks into your eyes, making sure he didn't just imagine that, and sees only carnal desire and love there. He can't believe you're his.

"Fuck, I love you," he whispers.

You smile and bite his neck hard. The little control he'd managed to take back shatters. Austin slips out of you so he can turn you around, your back towards him, and slams back into you.

One of his hands travels to your neck and squeezes, the other goes to your nipple.

This angle helps him sink even deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much and you feel the waves of another orgasm coming. Sex with Austin is always great but this is different. He's lost all control and given in to his desire, and you fucking love it.

Austin feels your walls clenching around him and he knows you're close. The hand around your throat tightens as he moves his other hand from your breast to your clit, running his fingers in agonisingly slow circles, and right before you come he inserts two fingers in.

The feeling of his fingers and his hard length inside you is too much and you trip over the edge, your whole body shaking. You claw at his neck and bury your fingers into his hair as he swallows your moans with a kiss when you both come.

You've never seen this side of him before. He's always so protective of you, so gentle. You realise he's been holding himself back, afraid to lose control and hurt you.

He looks at you apprehensively and you smile at him, tugging him close so you can wrap your hands around his neck and give him a slow, tender kiss.

For a while the only sounds in the shower are the running water and your heavy breathing as you're both coming down from your highs.

Eventually, Austin lets you go and eases out of you with a groan. Your legs are shaking as you lean onto the tile wall while he turns around to adjust the showerhead.

He melts into you, relieved you're okay.

You disengage and proceed with your shower, washing each other's hair and bodies, placing soft kisses here and there.

When you're done, Austin stops the water. He swaddles you in a huge fluffy towel, picks you up and carries you to the bed.

He lies next to you on his side, head propped up, facing you, tiny droplets of water running down his face and torso.

"I'm sorry", he says quietly, giving you a sad puppy look and caressing your face.

"For what? Giving me multiple orgasms?"

"No..." he laughs and then falls silent.

"I hurt you. I don't know what came over me."

"Not what, who. You've still got some of Feyd lurking in the background," you say a soft smile playing on your lips.

"That's not an excuse y/n. I should've stopped...I should've..." he trails off, looking remorseful.

"I don't know if you noticed Butler but I liked it. A lot", you lift his head so he can look at you.

"I'm not made of china you know. Promise me you'll stop holding back on me. This was fucking amazing."

"Yeah it was, wasn't it," he says, finally relaxing, "Okay, but on one condition: you promise to tell me if I cross the line."

"Deal," you say and mould your lips over his.

[kestalsblog]

Tips for Writing Characters in Recovery from Addiction

I've encountered several portrayals of characters in recovery from addiction, both in fanfiction and published writing, that are clearly somewhat under-researched or leaning into stereotypes. Additionally, writing advice posts on the subject often feel detached and cite statistics rather than express humanity.

As a result, I decided to put together what I believe to be some characteristics and shared experiences of people in recovery that aren't just about withdrawal and might be less familiar to the general public. Perhaps they can be useful to writers aiming to write thoughtful and accurate portrayals of characters in similar situations.

Please note, of course, that both addiction and recovery are very unique, personalized experiences, so no one list will ever apply 100% to a single person—fictional or real.

Dreams of relapse. I personally experience these dreams at least 4-5 times a month, and they're unlike any other other dreams I have because they're so vivid and lifelike that I wake from them completely convinced for a moment that I did, in fact, relapse. These dreams do NOT mean you want to relapse. In fact, they are often a sign of extreme fear of relapse. The possibility of it is so nightmarish that your mind can only translate it into a literal night terror.

Adding to the previous point, the fear of relapse is seriously underestimated. Some people assume recovered addicts are always thinking about relapsing in a tempting way, but lots of these thoughts stem from the absolute, paralyzing terror of the past repeating itself—not an alluring urge to return to it.

Paranoia that everyone is looking at you thinking "they know the truth about my past. They know I was an addict." These beliefs are, of course, unfounded.

Constantly categorizing everything as "before addiction," "during addiction," and "after addiction." Even something as simple as looking at photographs can elicit thoughts like, "I was so happy in this picture. I had no idea what was coming for me in six months."

Counting recovery days nonstop to the point that it can even become debilitating. Your sense of time is forever altered because you're always trying to "catch up" on all the time you "wasted."

If people know, they will constantly make snide or condescending remarks, no matter how far along in recovery you are. "An addict is always an addict." "Well, I can see you're doing better than you used to be!" "I would never do something like that."

People will relentlessly assume you are less intelligent and talk to you like you're a child, especially if you're in the early stages of recovery.

Everyone knows addicts lose friends and/or family, and sometimes for good reasons, but the sheer number of people who leave for no apparent reason when you're actively trying to get better is surprising. The stigma surrounding addiction is so intensely negative that most people don't even want to be tangentially associated with it.

Addicts and recovered addicts are fetishized in unexpected ways— sometimes because of the obviously sickly appearance, the assumption that they will do anything to feed their addiction, the false belief that they are "fun" or "exciting," or maybe even that they just seem pathetic. Random people in public will approach you and straight-up ask for the most disrespectful sexual acts you can imagine. (After my addiction became common knowledge, people I thought were good people suddenly started trying like mad to sleep with me and then ditched me entirely. That's probably one of the most painful learning moments I had).

Physical symptoms can appear months, even years, after recovery starts. I know some who have noticed their hands suddenly becoming shakier, their hair thinner, and unusual chest pains.

You often become so angry and guilty with your past self that it prevents you from seeing how extraordinary your progress really is.

You start to realize how far you've come and how liberated you are in the smallest of moments. One of the greatest accomplishments of mine was realizing one morning when I woke up that the last thought I'd had before going to bed had not been about my addiction. Throughout my entire years of addiction, it was literally always the first thing on my mind when I woke up, even if it was just getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. It was the last thing I thought of every single night before I fell asleep.

Speaking of sleep, a full night's sleep! Full meals! Not feeling sick 100% of the time. At first, it's almost like growing into a new body.

Your memory is not the same as before, whether you remember too much or there are big dark patches in your mind.

The appreciation. As difficult and painful as it is, a world in recovery is also so often a world of supreme beauty. You pay attention to life's details in ways you never could have imagined before. Things assume a gentle sincerity and sensitivity they never had previously.

Relapse does not always even happen. Some people quit and never look back. I decided to change my life in every way in February 2021 and spent all of that March relapsing. By April 1, I was ready and never went back once.

Addicts are always deemed selfish and narcissistic, even recovered addicts. Sometimes, ironically, recovery leads to increased empathy. It can take reaching a low point to understand another person's low point.

Recovery can be quiet. It's not always over-the-top constant relapses, breakdowns, etc. Sometimes it's just very private and silent attempts to make your life better.

Finally, a point I would like to emphasize is that addiction is a lonely, isolating experience, but often recovery is too. Yes, you can have rehab (if you're lucky to get into a good one), and, yes ,you might have a group or loved ones who help you (I hope). But every reason behind addiction and what you're actually addicted to is so individualized that no one will ever wholly share your experience. Finding a community can be challenging.

But, despite it all, recovery is a unique, beautiful, enlightening experience. If I were given the choice to go back and make it so I'd never had any of it happen, I would choose that option in a heartbeat. Still, I know in the depths of my soul, I'd be trading away some of the most raw, vulnerable, and profound lessons of my life in favor of blissful ignorance.

Above all else, I hope if you write a character in recovery, you try to portray them as you would anyone else—a nuanced and interesting human being 🫶

[sopiao]

hey!! i love your writing so so much oh my god. your account is just perfect– if it's not too luch to ask (and forgive me if this is a little long) can i request headcanons with taskforce 141 + masc reader???

reader's kind of distant from the rest of the task force. they all get along with him just fine, does what he's asked to do on missions and all that, but he just feels kind of... absent. nobody really gets what his deal is, but they've gotten used to him. (BONUS POINTS IF HE ALSO WEARS A MADK HE DOESNT TAKE OFF THAT OFTEN... i wanna be cool too </3)

one day he wakes them up, and (to their surprise) tells them that he had a nightmare. this is the softest his voice has ever been and the most he's ever opened up– just. fluff and comfort lolz :p

FIRST TIME WITH FLUFF OR COMFORT!!!

i’ve always had a hard time writing this kind of stuff but i’m cleaning out my inbox so.. ^^

SORRRYYY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS >3<

it sorta implies angst?? like the nightmare is something serious of an issue?? idk

(Callsign will be Anon to make it easier for me ☹️)

Anon has always been distant, keeping some space and never really contributing to any of the conversations x But they still treasure him just as much as each other. They understand that some people just have a hard time with stuff like that or just don’t wanna get into it in general.

Soap and Ghost always makes constant visual checks to see if he’s still part of the group, since he’s always quite as a mouse it’s hard to keep track of him. Price would make sure to save a seat for him whenever he’s a little late. And Gaz would always check up on you from time to time.

They make sure you felt part of the team. Just because Anon doesn’t really have a deep connection with any of them doesn’t make him any less one of them.

—

In the middle of a mission they all had to sleep in a safe house for the night. A rather small one since they had to share a room together. Sleeping bags all lined up across the room. One soldier found it hard to get at least a wink of sleep. Price’s and Soap’s loud and grumbling snoring didn’t really disturb them since it was practically white noise to him now.

After half an hour Anon finally found the ability to be carried into rest. It was peaceful for a while. Until he woke up violently, body twitched when he woke up from how intense it was. He found that it was hard to keep his breathing under control and try to focus on one thing. Physically and emotionally.

He put this off as a last resort and tried everything to calm himself down. But when all else failed he turned to Ghost beside him. Reaching for his mask and hastily pulling his mask over his head, hesitating before bringing his hand up to shake Ghost awake, he’s a light sleeper anyway.

“What? What happened?” After a second to comprehend what was happening he sat up and looked around, thinking something happened, like someone broke in or someone found them. But once he saw his comrade’s, somewhat, relaxed but worried eyes and stopped.

Sitting up fully and comfortably, he asked if everything was alright. Judging by his lack of response Ghost nodded, immediately understanding and not making a big deal out of it since this is way out of his comfort zone.

“Go on.” He nodded his head, sitting next to him and relaxing against the wall, still half asleep but still willing, very willing, to listen and comfort if needed. Ghost listened intently as Anon began to explain and mumble out what happened in his sleep.

“Uhm.. Fuck— Now that I’m thinking about this, it sounds stupid—” Looking down and fiddling with the edge of his sleeping bag Anon’s interrupted by Ghost.

“Just tell me. You’ve already got me up” He’s probably not the best one for comfort, but he knows he’s trying, not the best with his words, but he’s willing to listen.

It stuns him for a second with his bluntness, but chuckles lightly, knowing that he really does wanna listen. He starts to explain, second guessing himself every couple sentences, but slowly he gets more comfortable with sharing.

Halfway through Soap starts to stir and move in his sleep, making both stop and just stare. Turning around to see both sleeping bags empty, Soap immediately sits up and searches for them, only to see them off the side, sitting together.

“Oh.. shit..” He calms himself down, both Ghost and Anon look at each other before looking back at Soap. He slowly sits up and crawls over to where they are, next to Anon so he’s between Ghost and Soap.

“What’re you two doin’ up?” Somehow his accent is deeper when he’s half-awake. Slouching back against the wall, almost leaning on Anon’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep after.. a.. uhhh… nightmare” Anon was hesitant to explain, wondering if waking up his friends were really worth it, hoping that they wouldn’t make fun of him. Soap just hums in response.

“Nightmare? Al’right. Continue” To Anon’s surprise, Soap wants in too. He looks back to Ghost who just shrugs and nods, silently telling you that it’s up to him whether he wants to share or not.

Before Anon can even start again, both Price and Gaz wake up, both confused as fuck, but following along, dragging their sleeping bags over to him. They were all now wide awake, Price laying back in his sleeping bag, arms crossed, half-awake but still lucid enough to understand stuff coherently.

Anon started to explain again, relaxed to see how supportive his teammates are with how little they really know about him. Once he got to a certain part of the nightmare, the part that really made it a nightmare, his lungs felt tight once again.

Suddenly his mask felt so thick and concrete, he had to lift it up to his nose to breathe. Blubbering out apologies between breathes as they tried not to stare too much.

“Nah, nah. You’re fine” Ghost reassured him through his mutters, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. It didn’t, but it was something. Something that they were there to listen.

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t wanna tell” Gaz nodded, not wanting to force Anon to go too much out of his comfort zone, in the chance that he changed his mind and wasn’t okay with sharing this kind of stuff.

“I’m fine.. fine” Anon nodded his head, realizing how much of his face he exposed and tried to cover it up with his hands so he can still breath. But for those couple seconds that his lower half of his face was open. A large, old, scar decorated his lips, diagonally going from the top right to bottom left, almost reaching his chin.

With something so unexpected being exposed, the fact that Anon even reached out, it made them all alert to watch out for his emotions and how he’s feeling. But what was most surprising for them, was how he talked. It was usually so stern and short, always getting straight to the point. Almost robot like. But now, it’s softer, more warm but sorta confused, he fumbled in his words a little but it was just so different than how he is out on the base.

An hour has passed, but now that all of that is out of Anon’s head, and everything, almost everything, was off his chest, the sleepiness started to catch up to him. In the midst of Ghost explaining how he was feeling and the possible reason for it, Anon was already asleep, snoring softly as he struggled to keep up.

They knew that this was something you’d never do. So it was a sort of shock for him to break his blocked off demeanor. But it made them feel good that Anon even considered venting. Even if it was something small like a complaint or something annoying, they wanted him ti let it out.

(this has been in my drafts for forever T-T)

[mortalityplays]

Unfortunately the incredibly fragile fanfic writer with thin skin thing has crossed over into literature, particularly YA and genre literature, these days. Everyone is having a bad time and no one can stand constructive engagement with their work

there is a particular kind of person that falls in love with the concept of being a writer, but is absolutely unwilling to put any effort into seeing or treating it as a craft they need to actively master. they have always existed and will always exist, probably because it's much harder to see at a glance when a writer is full of shit than when someone makes terrible visual art.

traditionally you'd either find those people vanity publishing or wealthy/connected enough to publish through friends, family, old classmates etc. the people who didn't have access to those avenues (or who were too cowardly even to brush against the possibility of having someone read their work and think it was less than perfect) would stereotypically just work on their great novel forever and never let anybody read it.

the point I'm getting to is I think the larger and larger market share commanded by crybaby bad writers is reflective of the point we've reached in late capitalism. publishing companies have realised there's money to be made in doing marketing pump and dumps on writers who don't know or care enough about writing to spend more than maybe 2 years producing a finished manuscript, and who are so intensely horny for attention that they'll happily accept whatever conditions are put on them (we're looking for vampire enemies to lovers in a speculative future hunger games marriage tournament. also you have to promote it on tiktok and speak on a panel at this fan expo we sponsor, and give every other YA author in our stable a 5 star goodreads review. we will not be paying you for this). at the same time, people have been conditioned to see media consumption and audience affiliation as virtues and even skillsets. an infantilised media landscape combined with the proliferation of youtube media analysis hustle culture has primed an entire generation to believe that they're insightful, incisive, genre savvy wunderkinds whose bts-meet-the-winchesters fanfiction is actually the voice of a generation and DESERVES a three novel series and movie adaptation.

we're sick. we're not well.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A (Prison) Break

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader X Eddie Munson

AU: Convict!Steve, Convict!Eddie

Warnings: Smut, Spice and everything nice

Authors Note: enjoy my Steddy Fanfic, I love these boys sm

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

For months, you had been writing to Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington, two inmates who quickly became more than just names on a page. It started innocently—stories exchanged, jokes shared, flirtations hinted at between lines of ink—but it had grown into something deeper. You found yourself looking forward to every letter, and eventually, you couldn’t resist visiting them, sneaking moments with them in the prison's shadowed corners, where the guards didn’t always notice. What began as harmless curiosity had turned into something far more intense.

Letter from Eddie, four months ago:

Hey sweetheart,

The best part of my week is when I see you walk into that visiting room. I know it’s not much, just a few stolen glances, some whispered jokes, but it’s everything to me. I wish we didn’t have that damn glass between us half the time. You’ve made this hellhole feel a little less like... well, hell. There’s a fire in me, one that says maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for us outside these walls. I know it’s stupid to think like that, but sometimes... I let myself hope.

Next time you visit, maybe we can get a little time away from the eyes of the guards? Don’t tell Steve, but I’ve got a couple of ideas.

Yours, Eddie.

Letter from Steve, three months ago:

Hey Love,

So Eddie’s probably already mentioned it, but last time you came by, I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you were... and how far at the same time. It's been killing me. I know this place isn’t exactly set up for romance, but hell, what we’ve got? It’s real, isn’t it?

I hate the glass, hate the way it makes everything feel so cold. But when you look at me, it’s like it disappears for a moment. That’s enough to get me through most days. Eddie and I joke around a lot, but we’re both serious about you. We both need you. Don't keep us waiting too long, okay?

- Steve

You’d visited them in the months since the letters started, but it wasn’t until Steve and Eddie found a way to sneak you into an unused room at the prison that things escalated. There was no glass partition to separate you from them, and in that moment, the reality of it all hit like a freight train.

Eddie’s lips had been on yours before you could think, his rough, calloused hands threading through your hair, pulling you closer. Steve stood by, watching for a second before his hands found your waist, tugging you back into him. There was something magnetic, forbidden, in the way they both touched you—Eddie’s wild, unrestrained passion; Steve’s tender, but insistent affection. It was more than just desire. It was longing, built over months of words on paper, finally set free.

That became your secret. Whenever you visited and the guards weren’t paying attention, the three of you would steal moments like that, always on the edge of being caught but never caring. You’d whisper about what life might be like if they weren’t locked up, about what it would be like if you didn’t have to leave them behind every time you walked out the prison doors. It became impossible not to fall for them both.

Then came the day you arrived home and found them waiting. Eddie and Steve, sitting casually in your living room like they hadn’t just broken out of a maximum-security prison. Their smiles were wide, their eyes full of mischief and adrenaline.

"Surprise, sweetheart," Eddie said, pushing his wild hair back with a grin. "You didn’t think we’d stay locked up forever, did you?"

You stood frozen, trying to process what was happening. "You escaped ? How—why—"

“We did it for you,” Steve said, stepping closer, his voice softer than Eddie’s but no less intense. “We couldn’t stand being away from you any longer. We want to be with you, for real. Not behind glass. Not with guards watching our every move.”

There was something dangerous and exciting in their eyes, something that made your heart race even faster than it already was. But before you could respond, there was a loud knock on your door.

"Shit," Eddie muttered, his grin slipping as Steve’s expression turned serious.

“Cops,” Steve whispered, glancing between you and Eddie. “We don’t have time to run. You’ve got to lie, okay? Just tell them you don’t know anything. You can do this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, adrenaline flooding your veins. You opened the door to find two police officers standing there, their eyes sharp.

“Ma’am, we’re looking for two escaped convicts—Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington. Have you seen or heard anything unusual?”

Your mind raced, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “No,” you said, your voice steady and confident, “I haven’t seen anything strange today. I’ve just been at work.”

The officers exchanged glances, sizing you up. For a moment, you thought they could see through you, see how fast your heart was beating, but they simply nodded.

“Alright, but if you hear or see anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

You nodded, playing your part perfectly until they left. When the door shut, Eddie let out a low whistle, his grin returning.

"Damn, you’re good at this," he said, stepping closer, pulling you into him.

Steve moved behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck. “We knew we could count on you,” he murmured.

Once the cops left, the tension that had been building between the three of you finally spilled over. You stood there, back against the door, still catching your breath from the close call, when Eddie's rough hands found your waist, pulling you to him. His dark eyes smoldered with a hunger that had been simmering for months, and when his lips finally met yours, it was like a dam breaking. His kiss was wild, passionate, and desperate, as though he was trying to make up for every second spent apart.

Steve wasn’t far behind. He came up behind you, his body pressing flush against your back, lips finding your neck as his hands slid down to your hips, holding you between them. You felt the heat of his breath on your skin as he whispered, “We missed you so much.”

The two of them had always been different in how they touched you—Eddie was raw and eager, his fingers gripping you like he couldn’t get enough, while Steve was slower, more deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second. The combination of them both was overwhelming, intoxicating.

Eddie’s mouth traveled down to your jaw, then lower to the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “We’ve been dreaming about this, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse with need. “You have no idea how much we wanted this... how long we waited.”

You let out a soft gasp as Steve’s hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingers warm against your bare skin, teasing you with every slow, torturous movement. “We’re here now,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “And we’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie was already pulling at your clothes, his impatience clear as he tugged your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. He paused, his eyes raking over your body, his tongue wetting his lips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said, voice thick with lust.

Steve’s hands were already on your waist, guiding you back toward the couch, his touch possessive yet gentle. He lowered you down slowly, his lips still on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Eddie followed, kneeling between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You’ve been driving us crazy, you know that?” Eddie teased, his hands already moving to unbutton your jeans, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath. “We’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

Steve knelt beside you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent, as if he was reassuring you that they were both here, both ready to make up for lost time. His hands moved to help Eddie with your jeans, their movements practiced, as though they’d both imagined this moment countless times.

When they finally had you bare beneath them, Eddie wasted no time. He pressed his mouth to your inner thigh, teasing you with slow, deliberate kisses that made your body tremble in anticipation. Steve, meanwhile, hovered above you, his lips capturing yours in another deep kiss, his hands roaming over your body, leaving no part of you untouched.

The sensations were overwhelming—Eddie’s mouth so close to where you wanted him most, his breath hot against your skin, while Steve’s touch was everywhere, grounding you, making you feel like you were the center of their world.

Then, without warning, Eddie’s tongue was on you, his mouth moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out soft moans that only seemed to spur him on. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he worked you over with a kind of reckless abandon that made your head spin.

Steve was whispering in your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. “You’re so beautiful when you fall apart for us.” His hand slid between your legs, fingers brushing over you as Eddie’s mouth moved lower, his tongue teasing and torturing in ways that made you gasp.

Together, they built you up higher and higher, every touch, every kiss, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling inside you, ready to snap, and they seemed to sense it too.

Eddie’s fingers joined his mouth, his touch rough but skilled, while Steve’s lips found your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured sweet nothings, telling you how much they needed you, how long they’d been waiting for this.

And then, just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, they pushed you over the edge. Eddie’s fingers moved faster, his mouth relentless, while Steve’s hand tightened on your waist, grounding you as you cried out, your body trembling beneath their touch.

They didn’t stop as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Eddie kept his mouth on you, drawing out every last bit of your release, while Steve kissed your temple, his hand stroking your hair as you came down from the high.

When Eddie finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, and he looked up at you with a grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’re not done yet,” he said, voice rough with lust. “Not even close.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you into his arms. “We’ve got all night,” he whispered, his voice filled with promise.

The three of you collapsed together on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still buzzing with the aftermath of everything. You knew this wasn’t the end. There was still the matter of running, of escaping together, but in that moment, none of it mattered. For the first time in months, you were together. And nothing, not even the threat of being caught, could take that away from you.

“We’ll figure it out,” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We always do.”

And with Steve’s arms wrapped around you, and Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh, you knew he was right. You had each other, and that was enough. For now.

That night, as the three of you huddled together, the reality of what had happened started to sink in. They had risked everything to be with you, and you had lied to protect them. There was no going back now.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, staring up at the ceiling as Eddie lay beside you, his arm draped over your waist, Steve on your other side, his hand gently tracing patterns on your skin.

"You were amazing,"Eddie said, his voice low and rough, but full of admiration. "We wouldn’t have made it this far without you."

“We don’t have to stay here,” Steve said softly. “We can run, the three of us. We’ll figure it out together. We always do.”

You looked between the two of them, feeling the weight of your decision, but knowing in your heart that you couldn’t let them go now. You nodded.

“I’m in. Let’s run.”

They grinned at you, and in that moment, despite everything, you felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. Whatever came next, you were ready for it.

Together.

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, like and Reblog💜 -Midnight’s Cafe

[scribescrawls]

Taco headcanons?

Apologies to anon who sent this for the late response! I meant to respond earlier, but I am kind of slow in replying to messages and comments a lot of the time sorry!!

I think with taco it depends on the story I am trying to tell at the moment that could change the way I characterize them from story to story. I will list some of the more general headcanons I have about them or when I write them though some of these might differ between each other depending on the story I work on (of course these are just my personal opinions or me being delulu haha and it’s totally fine if people have differing opinions or don’t agree lol)

Taco headcanons:

-I do not agree with the idea that Tom/Voldemort is incapable of love. I also don’t really see them as different people, perhaps depending on the setting I can see them at different life stages so they are different from each other but I don’t really see them as separate people if that makes any sense lol

-I see Tom as being actually a very sentimental person when he gets attached to something and in some ways is both a cynic about the world but also a romantic in that he romanticizes certain things about his life. Like the way he clings to his connection to being “heir of Slytherin” and the idea of being special over others, I see as more of a coping mechanism for his trauma of growing up as an orphan during a war where the very real fear of dying in that time in obscurity like so many other orphans or like his mother has him clinging onto any hope that he won’t end up the same. He’s probably grown up with most people believing and saying that he’s nobody and will die as a nobody in a pauper’s grave. I can see him telling himself that he is special and forcing himself to believe that he is someone of worth meant for greater things because no one else will. Because the alternative is admitting that you will probably die alone and forgotten by the world and no one will care.

-I think once he actually reaches a point of self-awareness that he likes/loves someone and wants them in his life it goes from 0 to 100 real quick. I actually see him as the one with less commitment issues most of the time once he realizes his emotions because I guess I view it as when he wants something he’s determined to get it and keep it forever. Of course this requires him to grow attached or care for whatever idea/object/person in question first and admit it to himself which I see as more rare but when it happens he loves with an intense fervor/obsession. I could imagine Draco casually dating people for fun before they get together, but I can’t see Tom enjoying casual dating at all. If he was going to officially date someone, I think Tom would already have decided this is the one and you’re never leaving him :)

-I headcanon Tom as demisexual and demiromantic. For Draco I personally headcanon him as bi, both bisexual and biromantic

-Though their differing personalities can be a source of conflict, I also think it can be beneficial in balancing them. I see Draco as being able to bring out the more fun side of Tom and just brings a bit of silliness and fun in general to their dynamic and in Tom’s life. In turn, I see Tom as being able to ground Draco’s flights of fancy and stop Draco from overthinking things when he gets too in his own head about things. I also think Draco helps Tom not overthink certain things too but in different ways. I think if they manage to strike the right balance between their personalities they kind of ground each other.

-I see Tom as having a dry sense of humor mixed with some gallows humor and also occasionally makes puns, like with the whole Wormtail hand joke lol, I think Draco actually really enjoys Tom’s dry sense of humor and one of the things Draco likes about him is that he can make him laugh. I think Tom is also the kind to make mean scathing remarks about people usually in a dry way and Draco’s humor is kind of similar and finds it funny when Tom is mean so long as it’s not targeted at him. I also think that Draco’s over dramatic ridiculousness sometimes exasperates Tom, but I think it also amuses him in some ways and Draco just by the nature of how he is sometimes brings levity to the situation when Tom is being too serious.

-I think Tom is bad at social cues and understanding other people. I think he can read people enough to manipulate them to use them, but if you try to get him to truly understand someone he doesn’t really get it most of the time. Like he can understand a certain pattern of behavior gets a certain reaction, but understanding why that would make someone else feel that way is a struggle especially if he hasn’t experienced it himself.

While he can put on a charismatic facade I don’t think he enjoys it and I think it’s actually very tiring for him when he has to do it long term.

-I think Tom shows his care and affection through actions over words

-I think Tom has a romanticized idea of his mother and I think part of him feels angry she died and left him alone (even if it’s not a rational thought), but I think he also loves her or at least the idea of her that he’s built up in his mind since he never actually knew what she was like in real life. Like she died and ‘left him’ (even if we know dying in childbirth isn’t choosing to leave someone), but she also seems to be the only one in the world who wanted him. And I think that’s why he’s so protective of this idea he’s made of her in his head and her memory. The way he only moves to attack Morfin when his uncle starts calling his mother horrible names and insulting her or the way he was so dead set on getting the locket that belonged to her. Or his hatred of his dad for leaving them.

-I think Tom has an idealized concept of motherhood and that traits like love, care, affection, gentleness, understanding, comfort, etc (things I think he craves but won’t admit) are things he associates with mothers. Mothers are the ones who love their children and want them. Mothers care for their children enough to die for them. But they are also in his eyes weak, fragile, and they die on you. (Of course we know not all mothers are like that) 

I don’t think Tom is looking for someone to replace his mom, but I think Draco’s way of caring for people that he’s learned from growing up in a loving family reflects a lot of the ideals of what Tom imagines a family or more specifically the only family member worth anything in his eyes (mothers) embody 

-Because Draco grew up in a loving family with two overprotective parents, when he takes care of others especially those he loves or sees as family whether it’s intentional or not I think it’s a bit coddling, sometimes nagging, but gentle and very warm. And Tom getting to be on the receiving end of all of that from Draco, it’s probably the closest he’s ever felt to having a family and the safety and care the feeling invokes probably makes him want to hoard it like a starving man. Draco is also magically weaker (though that’s not saying much considering it’s Voldemort/Tom he’s being compared to and almost everyone would be weaker) and Tom’s probably aware of how easy it would be to kill him or for him to die. Draco’s probably playing on all his mommy issues lol

-I like to think that Tom likes discussing Dark Arts with Draco and likes that he can talk about the stuff without Draco blinking an eye at the subject matter or being appalled that Tom is fascinated with the Dark Arts as a subject since Draco grew up in a family that practices Dark Arts and has a bunch of Dark artifacts and items just hanging around Malfoy Manor like they’re your everyday vase considering Lucius had to sell some of it off to Borgin and Burkes to avoid the Ministry’s prying in book 2. While yes he is fascinated with the Dark Arts for the power it could bring him, I also just see Tom as someone who is fascinated by magic in general and how it works. I see his fascination with the Dark Arts equally as an academic interest and think he’d like talking about his interests. 

Draco’s less judgemental view of the Dark Arts means he’d be more comfortable talking about it without judging Tom in regards to his interests on principle, since he wouldn’t view the Dark Arts as inherently bad. Draco growing up in a loving family who also happened to practice Dark Arts means he wouldn’t have that association that Dark magic always equals bad. I actually think he’d have a more nuanced view that it’s all in the application of the spell rather than the type of spell that makes it bad to do. I also think because of that Draco also brings up sometimes creative but also silly applications for the spells Tom is studying or making. Like a spell that would sear the flesh of a person’s skin without burning through their whole body quickly until their insides slowly melted. And Draco would probably ask if the same spell could be used to roast the perfect marshmallow with a perfect gooey center. Tom would call him ridiculous and then five minutes later they’d probably be hunched over a marshmallow trying it out because now the thought won’t leave Tom’s head and Draco would whine about wanting to try it lol

-I see them as both very stubborn people so conflicts do happen, but I think as long as they work on their communication over time they have the potential to be a solid couple. Though I don’t think their communication skills came naturally. I think a lot of it came with trial and error.

-I think there are moments where Draco does things and Tom has that feeling/thought of “I do not understand rich people” lol

-I don’t see Taco as a “match made in heaven perfect for each other in every way" kind of ship, I think it’s one of those ships where they don’t easily mesh together naturally but when they find the balance between their personalities I think they could make for a very strong couple. Very much a “you want to make it work so you put in the effort to stay in each other’s lives because it is something you both want” kind of ship.

-I see them as an “I accidentally fell in love” (this was neither of our initial intents), but “I chose to remain in love and every day I choose to love you” kind of ship

Of course this all depends on how they are written and I will admit I do tend to write them softer than perhaps most portrayals lol, though darker portrayals can be fun to explore too but at the moment somehow all of mine so far have been coming out quite soft…lol

-Taco for me is like that one Emperor’s New Groove scene where he pulls down the chart and is like “by all accounts it doesn’t make sense”, but it compels me though and here I am haha 

And it is fun exploring the many ways they could meet and fall in love UwU

[thebawdybaldurian]

Halsin/Tav Week Day 6

We got a real nasty one here folks. These have been fun prompts to write and I’m thinking doing a SFW Halsummer week of prompts starting on the Summer Solstice. What would you like to see written about?

Rutting/Heat

Content and Warnings: discussion of birth control, breeding/pregnancy kink, scent kink, masturbation, rutting, predator/prey, cum/urine marking, oral sex, PIV sex, cream pies.

Tav awoke nestled against Halsin, his chest forming a comfortable pillow for her head. She nuzzled against him, kissing his sternum before trailing her lips over to one of his nipples. “Mmmm, I thought you wanted to get an early start?” He said sleepily, sliding his hands down her body after he awoke from her touch.

“This is entirely innocent,” she lied, tonguing and gently sucking on the stiffened nub. She kissed a trail down his stomach, disappearing under the blankets.

“Entirely…innocent,” he moaned as her mouth wrapped around his sleepy cock, quickly awakening it with a few soft sucks. “Clataedre,” he pulled back the coverlet, pushing her hair out of her face. “You could stay if you liked…another day…mmmm…another tenday…or forever.”

She laughed gently, her mouth humming against him as she continued to suck up and down his shaft. He knew she needed her life in the city, but wanted to extend the offer nonetheless, especially since it meant fewer good morning blow jobs. She continued her work until he was panting, begging for her cunt. She happily obliged, straddling him and slipping her chemise over her head. “You just can’t cum in me yet,” she sighed as she slowly mounted him, rocking her hips once she’d fully engulfed him. “I’m not quite sure my moon blood tincture will be fully effective for a few more days.”

“I’ll…uhhhhnnn…tell you when I am close,” he whimpered, already leaking pre-cum inside of her. They were both willing to risk the small chance of another pregnancy from penetrative sex, but Tav wasn’t looking to tempt fate anymore than that.

“I should….ahhh…get going soon,” Tav bounced on top of him, gripping his hands tightly. “And the little ones will be up soon.”

“Please,” Halsin begged for a little longer, ready to stay inside her all morning. “My love.”

“Once we…uhuhhhh…get the portals set up…I can still sneak in here to…do this…whenever I want,” she circled her hips slowly, making him groan in ecstasy.

“Every morning?” He moaned with a smile, squeezing her hands a little tighter.

“Unless you wake me up with your mouth,” she bit her lip, bouncing atop him again.

He’d built them a study bed in his new home in Reithwin, not a single creak emanating from the urgent thrusts of her hips. Only the sound of their breaths filled the bedroom and the quiet moans that escaped their throats. They could hear the babies in the other room babbling, awake but not yet crying for breakfast. Tav sunk down against him, still bucking her hips quickly, but quieting the cry that would soon escape her lips. “I can’t…uhnnnn…pull out easily like this,” he huffed, feeling the intense pressure growing in his balls.

“Do you want to get on top?” she moaned, pressing her clit hard against his pelvic bone.

“Sit on my face…I’ll take care of matters down here…less chance of timing it wrong that way.”

“Any excuse to taste my honey,” she grinned, circling her hips a few more times before slipping him out of her.

“Come here to me,” he happily beckoned, licking his lips hungrily as he began to stroke himself.

She planted herself atop his mouth, leaning against the headboard as his tongue snaked between her lips. “Fuck…I will never get tired of your mouth,” she moaned, letting him sample every inch of her.

He could taste that she was ovulating, wondering if by some small chance one of the few seeds floating in his pre-cum could take root inside her again. She indulged his hunger for breeding her, but he didn’t expect that she would want any more children since the twins were entirely unexpected and the result of one of her previous tinctures being missed. Still, he secretly longed for the swell of her belly to return and an entire grove full of children to raise. She quivered around his face as she came, quieting her cries in the crook of her elbow. He finished himself with an urgent groan, her sex still pressed atop his face, imagining the beauty of her formerly swollen tits and belly.

“Just in time,” she looked down at him with a heavy breath, hearing one of the twins beginning to whine. She carefully climbed off his face and off the bed, leaning back over him to suck up the cum spilled across his stomach. “Might as well not let it go to waste,” she grinned, licking the last off her lips. She was now the mother of his children, but she would always first and foremost, be his wife and passionate lover. Which only made him want her more…intensely more, he thought to himself as she slipped her chemise back on and padded out of the room to get the children up. He sunk back into his pillow for a moment, thumbing the remnants of her honey off his beard and sucking it off his finger. His obsession with her had only grown during the last 8 months of them raising their newborns. Even if he could simply slip through a portal to see her, the thought of living apart from her wrenched his heart.

He finally climbed out of bed and threw on a robe, heading into the kitchen to help with feeding duties. “Da!” Shantarion smiled when Halsin entered the room, always looking for his father when he wasn’t around.

“Open for Ma,” Tav held a spoon to his mouth, but he refused to be fed by anyone other than daddy. “Suit yourself,” she ate the contents and handed Halsin the spoon when he sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“He’s stubborn…just like you,” Halsin grinned, feeding his son a spoonful of mashed fruit and vegetables fresh from the garden.

“But I never refuse I good meal,” she winked at him.

“True,” Halsin nuzzled against her and gave Shan another spoonful of food.

“Dear Gods, Ava,” Tav sighed, as their daughter had more food on her face than in her belly. “If you would stop moving so much, I might get some in there.”

“She’s restless…also like you,” Halsin teased.

“And a pain in my ass like her silver-haired devil of a bfather,” Tav grumbled with a smile.

“You’re sure you won’t miss this?” Halsin smiled, taking over feeding duties for the both of them as Tav cleaned up Avaenua’s face.

“Sleeping in? No dirty diapers? Eating naked over the sink?” Tav laughed. “I can’t wait.”

She rinsed off the towel she’d dabbed Ava’s face with and then retreated back to the bedroom to get dressed so she could begin her journey back to the city. “What do you want for breakfast?” Halsin called, finishing up the jars of food when the kids were full.

“I had a few bites of the kids’ food,” she replied, eager to get on the road.

“Clataedre,” Halsin chastised her, knowing she wouldn’t eat again until she made camp for the night. He put some thick slabs of bacon in a pan and began frying them, setting out a few eggs as well, before taking the kids back into their room to change them.

Tav was just putting a few final things in her pack when he returned to the main room, looking like she was ready to leave. “You’re staying until you finish this,” Halsin cracked the eggs in the pan and seized her by the waist for a kiss. “Even if I have to tie you up to make you stay.”

“Oh?” She purred, biting his lips softly. “But I got plenty of protein this morning.”

“Not nearly enough,” he growled, pulling her back towards the dinning table and sitting her down.

She begrudgingly ate the bacon and eggs, sucking the sweet grease off her thumb when she finished. “Ughhh, now I am too full to move,” she groaned, rubbing her hand across her flat stomach. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Plenty of other ways to make your belly round,” he mewled in her ear, already hungering for her again. He nibbled and sucked on her earlobe, making her moan softly.

“You’re making this much harder,” she gripped a handful of his hair tightly, already on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, my heart” he nuzzled against her, his own tears stinging his eyes. “I don’t want you to go. We don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” she sighed, grabbing his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “We did a test run for a few days and they were fine.”

“What if I’m not fine?” He squeezed her hand harder.

She turned in her chair to look at him, clutching his face in her hands. “We’ve been apart before and this time we have the Hither Thither staff. I’ll just be a portal away…and if something happens with them and they get dispelled, we’re only three days walk, a day and a half if you come in wild shape.”

He let out a long sigh, pulling her in for a tight embrace, letting a few tears slipped down his cheeks. “I love you…more than anything,” he sniffled, taking in a last lungful of her scent.

“I love you too,” she kissed the tears from his cheeks, lingering last on his lips for far too long. “I should say goodbye to the cubs before they fall back asleep,” her words caught in her throat as she wiped away a tear.

They were chewing on teething toys and rolling on the soft mat on the floor, kicking their legs in the air as she entered their nursery. “You two be extra good for daddy,” she sighed as she knelt beside them, kissing their heads and smoothing down their curls. Halsin waited at the door for her, his tears dry, but his face still mournful. He pulled her in for one last kiss before she picked up her pack. “I checked the portal in the cabinet while I was getting dressed,” she sunk against him, resting her chin on his chest. “Once I get home, I’ll open the second one and be in your arms, okay?”

“Alright,” he brushed his finger through her hair. “Be safe. You’re sure you don’t want anyone to come with you? I bet one of the tieflings would be willing. Or I could come with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she smiled, stealing on last kiss. “You should be here to get the kids settled. I was adventuring alone for years before we met.”

Halsin watched her leave from the front door, knowing he would need to put the kids down for a nap soon. He tried to occupy his time with them, but they still slept so much that he was forced to find new projects to work on. He spent time with the orphans, introducing them to his new cubs and teaching them new games. He dug another plot of land for a winter garden and mended some fences for another resident of the commune. By the time he turned in for bed for the night he was exhausted. Despite his exertion, his trance was troubled, dreaming of Tav and his insatiable need for her.

He awoke stiff and lonely, rolling over to her side of the bed. He pressed his face into her pillow, groaning loudly into the scent of her hair. His hand brushed against something hidden under her pillow and he pulled out a pair of her panties that she’d left for him to discover. “Clataedre!” He growled, pressing them to his nose. They were fresh and from when she had started ovulating, making his cock dribble with need. He began rubbing his hips against the mattress, pressing his cock into it. He needed to rut, he needed to find her and fuck her until he came inside her, leave one last gift to tempt entrance into her womb. He fucked one of his hands urgently, licking all remnants of her honey off the fabric. He made plans in his head of who could watch the children for a few days while he stalked his prey. He spent into the sheets with a unsatisfied grunt, knowing he would not be satiated under he had spilled inside her.

He finished all the morning chores, getting the children fed and changed and onto the floor for some tummy time. He inquired with a few of the midwives and mothers about watching the twins for a few days, which they happily agreed to, pinching their cherub-like cheeks. He set off in the early afternoon in his wild shape, knowing she would have a day and a half head start on him. He kept his nose wide for evidence of her path, finding where she had stopped to relieve herself and rolling in the scent. He found the spot where she’d camped, spilling his seed across the tree she’d pissed against twice, once in the evening and once before she’d left that morning. He curled up in the spot where her bedroll had lain and slept for a few hours, before heading back out into the night to catch up with her.

He found her tent nestled just off the road as the sky was beginning to lighten, tempted to shred through her tent and rut her right there. He needed to wait, to give her tincture a little longer to work, knowing that he was here to erupt inside her. He pissed around her tent instead, marking her as his before retreating into the woods to watch her rise in secret. He heard her awaken an hour later with a quiet groan, but she didn’t immediately emerge from her tent. He heard the shuffling of fabric and then the quiet quickening of her breath. He realized she was touching herself and he could barely contain his excitement. He shifted into the form of a small honey bee, the buzzing of his wings much louder due to the vibration of his very being.

He slipped into the small gap of her tent flap, finding her on her back with several fingers writhing inside herself. He made a beeline for her cunt, wiggling his antennas to pick up the scent of her honey before darting away. She flinched slightly, stopping her movements for a moment to make sure it didn’t return to sting her. “Not for you, silly bee,” she huffed with a smile, closing her eyes and continuing her fuck herself with her fingers. He would taste it soon enough and settled on the wall of the tent to watch her finish. “Nnnnn…fuck…Halsin,” she rubbed hard against her clit, her toes gripping tightly into the bedroll as she came.

The moaning of his name nearly forced him out of his wild shape, using all his willpower to remain in it and not fall on top of her. She lingered a moment in her afterglow, teasing her fingers across her nipples while she caught her breath. She finally got up, leaving a small puddle of honey on her bedroll as she exited the tent to relieve herself and pack up to continue her journey. He flew down to the puddle immediately, sucking up the sweet nectar with his proboscis until he was almost sick from fullness. She nearly crushed him when she returned to roll up her bed, his sluggish wings flying him to safety as she complained about the enduring smell of piss around her.

He retreated back to the woods to shift back, his cock red and aching. He found her fresh puddle of urine and rolled in it once again, jerking himself off like a desperate, hungry animal. He knew that the last of her eggs had dropped and that she would be ripe for him tonight, when he would finally take her.

He rested for a bit and then continued on her path, getting ahead of her by flying above. He began leaving small, innocuous gifts for her to find, all part of his mating ritual. She first found a perfect, shiny apple, dangling right over the road like it had been placed there intentionally, because it had. She had eaten a meager breakfast and he wanted her to keep up her strength. She plucked it from the branch, expertly tied there with an invisible string and gave it a suspicious stiff before biting into its crispy, juicy skin.

Next, her path was blocked and guided to fresh spring and waterfall, where she could get a deep drink of water. She also decided to take a quick dip, having spent two days on the road without a wash. She stripped down naked, making him ache even more and slipped into the cold water with a loud cry. When she dunked under the water to wet her hair, he dove in after her, transforming himself into a fish. He zoomed around her, daring to slip past and leave a gentle suck around one of her stiff nipples, making her flinch again. “What the fuck was that?” She looked around for the culprit, seeing several small salmon nibbling on the bottom of the clear pool and an enormous trout that seemed to be eyeing her hungrily. “Halsin? Is that you?” She grinned, slipping her hand between her legs. “Is this what you want?” She challenged, taking a bold step towards it and sending it scattering. “I guess not,” she frowned, wading out of the pool and onto the bank.

She wrung out her hair, letting the sun warm and dry her, finding her fingers lingering around her clit again. His rut was also her heat cycle and she imagined Halsin’s mouth sucking her clit like that hungry fish. She leaned against a tree, rubbing herself and desperate for her husband. He stood in the middle of the pool, returned to his elven form, dripping wet and aching for her once again. If she turned around, he’d have no choice but to take her right there, otherwise he would have her tonight, as planned. She moaned and whimpered as she rubbed herself to climax, her hips swaying beautifully against her palm. “Ahhhh…Gods,” she cried quietly, digging her fingers into the bark as Halsin sunk into the water again and returned to his fish form.

She went to the water to wash off her hand, the sticky threads of her arousal swirling into the water. He eyed them closely, swimming towards them before one of the salmon sucked them up, believing them to be food. He raged towards the fish that had stolen his meal, shifting into the form of an otter and seizing the creature in his teeth. It was a much more substantial meal but not the one he had wanted. He gnawed on the fish as she got dressed and returned to the path, leaving him alone again to finish his lunch.

His final gift was a hillside of fragrant wild flowers, conjured along her path and the perfect spot for her to camp for the night. He saved one final wild shape to cast and waited patiently until she went to bed. He rarely took the form of a snake, finding the constantly rubbing on his belly to be too stimulating. He slithered into her tent silently, hearing only the quiet breaths of her trance sleep. He wound his way into her pack, finding her dirty panties and writhed around them in them for one last desperate movement before taking her. He snaked his way under her bedroll and chemise, the scaly feel of his belly on her skin making her stir slightly. He flicked his forked tongue hungrily, tasting the scent of her so near to him. He settled himself between her legs before he shifted back to his elven form, the sudden weight and tearing of her chemise waking her up instantly with a scream. “Corellon’s hairless balls!” Tav screamed, nearly punching him in the head in the dark. “I fucking knew it.”

“Hello, my heart,” he grinned widely, planting a gentle kiss on her delta. “Sorry to startle you.”

“Gods damn you,” she cried, clutching a handful of his hair. “What in the Hells are you doing here? Have you been following me all day?”

“I found you this morning…and buzzed in,” he grinned, taking a tentative lick of her honey.

“The bee? Really?” She sighed, spreading her legs a little wider for him.

“The apple, the spring, the fish, the flowers,” he licked after each word.

“So why not…uhhhh���reveal yourself then?” She moaned, gripping his hair tighter. “Or when I was rubbing one out by the waterfall?”

“You know I love the hunt and I wanted to wait as long as possible for your tincture to take effect. I won’t be able to stop myself from coming inside you.”

“Is that right?” She hissed, rocking her hips against his mouth.

“Yes,” he growled, crawling up her body slowly. “I need to fuck you…hard…like never before…root myself inside your womb. You are mine…my mate…forever.”

“Oh Gods,” she wrapped her legs tightly around him, desperate to be absolutely ravaged by him. “Please.”

He kissed her with as much passion as he could give without hurting her, spreading her cunt wide with his fingers to prepare her for the rutting of her life. He whispered softly to her in elven as he warmed her up; life giver, divine mother, honey queen, sacred mate, beloved above all others. He was gentle at first, easing his thick, throbbing cock inside her slowly. But soon enough, he had pressed her legs back to her ears, pinning her under him and mating her like never before. She whimpered and moaned like she was filling a theatre, sending the animals in the area running for the hills. She gripped him tightly, making sure he didn’t let up for second. Each thrust grew his knot to reach its fullest girth, throbbing and aching to be squeezed inside her. It slipped in as she gushed from climax, soaking her bedroll and torn chemise beneath her. He might have truly rooted inside her womb with another child if not for the deluge, as he’d filled her to the brim with his seed and tied tightly inside her with his knot.

They panted and stared into one another’s eyes, more in love with one another than ever before. “Gods, you always make me squirt in that position,” she giggled softly, shifting slightly underneath him as he helped move her legs to a more comfortable position.

“It might be the only thing keeping you from being swollen with my cubs again,” he sighed happily.

“Do you truly want more?” She asked quietly, threading strands of his hair through her fingers.

“I would never ask you to carry any more than you already have,” he replied honestly. “But if I found myself with an entire grove full of our children…I would not be displeased.”

“An entire grove!” She gasped.

“An forest of Silverboughs to heal the land,” he carefully rolled onto his back so she wouldn’t have to bear any of his weight while they were still tied together or lie in the wet puddle of her climax.

“Well, I don’t know about an entire forest,” she smiled, settling against him. “But if you manage to sneak another few past my tinctures…I’ll carry each of your little giants.”

“Thank you,” he kissed the top of her head, gently rubbing her back.

“You know, this is the first time you’ve knotted inside me in this direction,” she grinned up at him. “You usually do it from behind.”

“I much prefer it this way,” he began to massage one of her ears. “Though looking at your face, we might be stuck like this until dawn.”

“I won’t be able to walk,” she laughed, shifting her hips a little.

“I’ll gladly carry you the rest of the way home,” he closed his eyes, prepared to dream about the children that might never be, but would be eternally loved if they were.

[the-scribe-and-her-scribbles]

I tried to choose one part that I wanted you to talk about but they're all so good I couldn't choose 😭 So instead, here's a ⭐ to talk about the part you've been dying to talk about

Warning! This gets steamy towards the end!!!

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I think I really want to talk about feral!Gilbert.

I have a lot of thought on how I wanted to write the Fae/unseen folk. I wanted the fae-folk to have something off about them. Just that when a human were to look at them for long enough you could catch a glimpse of something else, or maybe a lack of something, like how the closer you look the less you actually see.

I wanted it to be very clear that Gilbert is not human. He’s a fae, a creature, a monster. Not some fairy prince.

In the unseen seen world, Gilbert’s body and soul are at home, so to speak, so he has an easy time holding in his true form, especially when he’s around you.

In fact most civilized fae are able to hold back the feral creatures the the wild magic makes them, even if for some it’s harder then others.

He loves you. And he loves you in a way that is gentle for his kind, with soft touches and vigilant eyes that keep you safe in their view. These are the tame parts of him, the places he keep separate from what the wild magic makes him, the parts he’s kept alive only for you. He loves you, and he doesn't want to upset you, so the charming, almost normal side of him is still of use to him.

But he's still fae, he's still a monster, and this means he loves you in all the dark and sharp ways too.

He would never hurt you, his soul wouldn’t let him, but his soul also drives him towards you like a wounded animal on bloody paws. His limbs bloody and aching, pain at the back of his mind as he throws himself, drags himself closer to you.

He’s a fae and you're his soulmate, his other half, so your his.

(Why couldn’t he keep you? He’d keep you safe, oh so safe. And well fed and well fucked. You’d love it if you were his. He would bring you any clothing or jewelry you could think of, he’d build you a library where you could sit and read forever, he’s even go get you that half-fae, Basil, that you met in Arbourly, to bring you novels from that human world you love so much. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you if it meant he could keep you, so let him, let him, l̴̰̮͎͈͠e̴̩̰̥̋̍̐̏t̴̝̱̒̿ ̷͕̚ḫ̴̱̤̗́i̷̩͛̍̈́͝m̵̮̓.)

If Maus does manage to get back to her human world, Gilbert isn't staying behind. Just because you're back home, doesn't mean your free of him.

Unlike in the Unseen world, Gilbert has a much harder time blending in. He rarely ever had to visit before you, and the mortal air messes with him. When his magic seeps out, its far more noticeable. His pale form seems to flicker in and out when not looking directly at him. You can almost see something else in his place, darker and smokey, whipping away at the edges like ash.

And Gilbert acts different too... more intense. He's almost aways there, following you. Either from far back behind you, (you think he like pretending to stalk you) or right at your side, holding your arm in his and helping you to where you need to go.

He's lingering, appearing in your room and around corners, unable to keep his hands to himself. He's rubbing his hands up the sides of your arm and whispering soft things to you. Other times, he's grabbing at you (you can swear you feel claws when he does.) He's still kind, just protective? possessive? Nipping at your cheeks and neck. If you aren't wearing gloves, he's even kissing and nipping your wrists. Muttering about how 'they(???) keep coming loose', how he'll have to give you more.

So he gives you things. Kisses and affections, small trinkets and foods, because he's a fae, and they gain little tethers with the humans they give favours too. He doesn't do it to lord over you or control you, just to protect you, keep tied to you, strengthen the ties that he already has from your deal you made all that time ago, and to protect your soul-tie.

It makes that dark thing inside him purr (you swear you've felt it one or twice). All those golden string, the single red one of your fates intertwined.

Make no mistake Reader, Gilbert has no intention of letting you go anywhere without him. You're his. He knows this, and you know this. But he's also yours. And he tells you this often.

"You can go anywhere, Maus," he whispers, hot breath (unnaturally so) fanning on the space behind your ear. You whine out at him and Gilbert can't stop himself from pressing you further into one of the bookshelves behind you counter of your father's store. Your skirt is hiked up around your waist, his hips pressed to your center with your knees help up by his arms. "But I'll follow you. I'm yours, hum? Say it, say I'm yours, say you love me, Schatz." He kisses you again and when you pulls away, you nod your head. You're whole body is as if its been set aflame. The lovely strings tied to your soul tug and pull in the most delicious way.

"Your mine, Gilbert. I love you," and as the words leave your mouth, his eyes burn brightly with devotion. "Thank you, Maus."

You smile into the next kiss.

-----

This was not edited. Forgive me for errors!!!

I am heavily inspired by @ghouljams portrayal of the Fae (especially soul ties. I think its such a great way to describe fae deals!!!) I wish I had their works to read when I was starting my Fae au years ago, because I agree with them so much. If you like Call of Duty, and like Fae AU's , you’ll love their stuff!

Tags???: @jtownraindancer @redrosesociety1 @xxruinaxx

[eyesontheskyline]

oooh talking about that scene in 3x02 i think that kickstarted their whole relationship, but im curious to know what was the moment in cm or maybe what season when you felt like something shifted between them? for me, season 5 after foyet’s attack is for sureee a turning point. In my head, the recovery from 9 stabs in a month would’ve been an absolute bitch. And considering that hotch had no family bc they were in witsec, how did that man manage to change his dressings, take care of his wounds etc etc?! Getting that glimpse of rossi telling morgan that Prentiss is driving hotch to and from work kinda connects the dots that she was probably the one that spent the most tine with him and helping out. Bc no matter how hardheaded that man is, he was fucking stabbed, there’s no way he was able to do shit on his own # just a thought

Yes! So okay in between writing my S7 fix-it, I'm also (oh god I just looked at the word count) like 23,000 words into writing a ficlet / chapter for each episode from S2E15 onward, and they deal with Emily and her friendships with the whole team but tend more Hotchniss as they go on. So I've been thinking a lot about where those little shifts are.

I think she sees a different side to him in the burn ward in S2E19, when he sits with the dying woman for no reason other than not wanting her to die alone. And he tells an against-protocol lie that's just kind.

I think the shift to him trusting her as a person is definitely S3E02, and then once she has that trust it's absolute - I think there were moments before that where he liked her, but this is a different thing. They have this intense, life-in-hands trust in each other from this point on that becomes the foundation for everything.

It feels to me like they get gradually closer and more in tune with each other from that point and I could ramble forever about that but if I ever want to actually publish that fic I probably shouldn't.

S4E02 where his eardrum does its thing in the cemetery and she follows him and touches him while he is vulnerable feels like a Thing to me. And then the next ep is Minimal Loss where he's listening to her being beaten up and looking tortured, and then we see her hug Reid and Hotch just staring at her. So that also feels like a Thing. Like I'm suuure he drove her home or showed up at her place or something after that.

And then by the time Foyet gets him, she's already the one who's like 'where's Hotch?' and can't relax because it feels like something's off with him. Sits with him in the hospital. And I think you're right - I think she would be the one to show up to give him any practical help he needed, because that's the clue we get from her driving him to work after and him just accepting that.

So yeah, I became a shipper the first time I watched S4E03 Minimal Loss, but watching it back I can see something developing between them before that. I think they both just know how to care for each other quietly, in this quiet, understated way that never feels like too much.

But one of the things I really enjoy about them as a ship is that there are multiple different plausible starting points - some other ships for me feel like they hit a point in canon where they've missed their chance, and I never get that from Hotchniss. I think you can start something right after he signs his divorce papers, or after he's left the show (my first Hotchniss thing after a long break was set in S13), or more or less any point in between.

[oddvanilla]

Not really venting because it isn't my type of thing but like YK some stuff should be let off my chest☹️

Idk why but I feel like I'm a side character in my own life 😭 not just that I feel like a robot (closest thing to that feeling) like everyone else has emotions and can be sad or angry and I just. Exist. Like that's all I have going on...

Sometimes it's a good thing!!! Like hey at least I have no mental illnesses or anything. I'm just always content with my life, and so far this whole year I only felt INTENSE sadness like 4 times and it just went away in the matter of like 3 hours. Even then, that wasn't sadness,, it was just anger at myself. I don't really associate crying with sadness, because I cry here and there for dumb reasons... last time I cried was when I heard my best friends say I love you because I REALLY needed that. And the time before that was me winning a football match on FC 24 against my dad, then I started crying because I started thinking about maybe it would be the last football game he'll ever play with me ☹️ but yeah, last time I cried was like a month ago. It's really rare that I feel like I need to sob or anything. As I said, it's good because people always associate me with happiness and ooo energy.

This isn't the problem tho. I feel like I know so much about everyone but nobody knows crap about me. Like trust me I'm an open book, ask me about anything and I'll give you an extended answer with a life experience + analysis. I get so excited when anyone asks me anything personal like my favourite colour or my favourite hobbies. It's not my friend's faults', trust me. They're amazing people and I will love them forever. But I feel like they're the main characters in MY life. I just happen to be the one who is always taking every picture and recording every moment. But I'll never be in any of those pictures because I'm the one holding the camera.

It makes me sick, I need to know every little detail about my friends, my family, even just a Tumblr mutual, but the closest people to me don't even know my middle name. I love my mom but she doesn't know what I like to do as a hobby. She has no idea that I like writing, or history. But I know everything about her. That's the case for everyone. This feeling makes me sick because I always feel overwhelmed. By the time I wanna go to sleep I'm stuck in bed for 3 hours without sleeping yet because my head is thinking at a thousand miles an hour. I always feel like I have to cut off people here and there so my life can weigh a little less😭

Everyone knows this one, I'm a heavy extrovert, and I talk all the time but it's never about me. When I'm yapping I'm either explaining how something works or talking about that one memory with my friends. I'm not used to venting because I'm scared of someone saying "not everything is about you". I've never been friends with a listener, everyone else talks and even I TALK, but I wish there was just someone out there who knew what's my biggest fear or smth.

Moral of the story, I feel like I bottle my feelings all the time. I think twice before I hit that post button and decide that it should stay in my drafts because oddvanilla is this person who's always happy, if you see me venting it'll be awkward. I don't want anyone to solve my problems, I just don't HAVE any problems to begin with. I just wish someone would listen this time. Hi just notice me pls I have feelings other than energetic!!!! Please keep it in mind at least that I wanna be heard :( I'm sick of speaking up for everyone who can't but I never get a chapter in the book for myself. Even if you just say something like "same omg" at least it would feel better that I'm not alone in this messed up feeling.

[subway-boss-jericho]

(Art anon… hammer anon? This is going to be funny when I inevitably post that art (I am actively making sketches help))

Oooo I freaking. Love it when one delves into the Implications. Like- both parties agreed to this, but neither knew what it would actually Be Like and now they are just showing their Whole Soul to another person and it can be absolutely Terrifying! But they are going to communicate anyway. Because they care about each other enough to. Because the other person is Worth It.

(also love that Emmet asked ingo if he wanted to fuse so they could never be apart again and ingo said Yes. This means so much to me. I don’t even have words I’m just. *gestures franticly*)

(I am Very Incredibly Normal about Diamond Crossing. So Normal)

I love this. Shaking coupled (uncoupled) so hard now. I think it’s actually Really Cool how a lot of the people in this fandom are like “yes the twins have a good relationship but that’s because they Talk with one another and seek to Understand each other” fusion is just another Fantastic way to symbolize that! (And ough I would Love to see more less acknowledged emotions and relationships there too. It’s So Much Fun to play around with)

not! Asking you to spoil the whole plot! I’d freaking Love to read whatever fic you write about it =D

feel free to continue to use my asks to Absolutely Go Off. it is verrry fun to read!

Yep (nodding my head) they DEFINITELY communicate with eachother. That definitely happens and nothing goes wrong. Trust /lh

Read: They Get There Eventually.

My favorite part about Coupled (Uncoupled) is that fusion is not the magical cure-all to Emmet's anxieties that he wanted it to be. It makes the story much more nuanced and fun to explore, although it does also make it much more sad and upsetting before it eventually gets a lot brighter. And like I mentioned on the master post, he is Not stuck like that. Yknow. Forever :]

(Rest of the Jericho-typical ramble continued below!)

(insert crying emoji that isn't on tumblr) Yeah. It means a lot to me too. The thing that hurts most about the story, which I will ""spoil,"" is that Emmet does kinda blame himself for things "going wrong" (read: not being how he expected), and by extension in his upset + anxiety, he forgets that Ingo explicitly agreed to try it with him. The first + second major arcs in coupled uncoupled are the hard emotional parts that make the later resolutions feel all the more powerful and unshakable, but even in the beginning, Ingo had always agreed to at least try. Even before things are resolved, the core emotional foundation of this domino effect chain was still always trust and love.

High fives in So Normal About Diamond Crossing. we're so normal.

You inadvertently inspiring me to ramble about Coupled (Uncoupled) has had the accidental effect of making me think about it a Lot. I'm so fucking glad someone else is shaking them besides me (and again, the few close friends I talk about my AUs with,) because holy SHIT I want to talk about them + share their story + make their story + draw them all the time so bad it makes me look STUPID but I have also failed to talk about them Anywhere online before this point. It's one of the stories I'm the most tight-lipped about since I actually Want To Write It, downside of that is that I, by extension, never get to talk about it Or, never got to before now :D thank you again! infinitely! forever!

Accidental side effect: rip to Steady Tracks, I have not added any more words to the document for several days. Because I have been staring at my computer and being so ill about coupled (uncoupled). I WILL be back to it very soon though, I refuse to let my attention... waver :p

Anyways, yeah, while I love a good "we fit perfectly together" pair like Ingo and Emmet, I also really really love it even more when that intensely strong bond is build on a firm, realistic foundation of mutual care, support, and communication. So a lot of my AUs exist because of me wanting to stress-test that devotion/appreciation/commitment to work out problems, which makes things Extremely Fun to write but also oooohhh.... so goddamn complicated...... This is why I consider myself a "Hurt/Comfort" writer, because I almost universally find stories most compelling if they drop to very low points, dark moments, or genuine, heart-breaking struggles, only to show that this earnest and wholly compassionate care does and will always prevail in the end. That (a relationship) is not about never having problems, but about learning to solve them and being committed to recovery/change after the fact.

Gonna move on before I sob about them. I care them SO much, and coupled (uncoupled) is one of the strongest examples of this in my writing. They have gone, are going, and will continue to go the distance for eachother, thick and thin.

Minor side-tangent based on the last thing about other relationships/dynamics in fusion-

(Edit: After writing a lot more I realized quickly that this was, in fact, not a minor side tangent. It is in fact a major and worthwhile extrapolation on how i feel, however might also be mildly uncomfortable to discuss, and that's okay. If you don't want to hear me talk about my frustration with how our society bastardizes close platonic relationships, you can stop reading at any time or skip to the bottom 👍)

One of the other reasons I haven't talked about Coupled (Uncoupled) online yet is because I get really nervous about it. Fusion is very frequently connoted as romantic, and the coupled twins themselves are very physically affectionate with eachother (yknow, before & after the Horrors™) and so internally I've always been a little worried that people will think I am being weird/creepy/portraying them in a way that is 'too far' for some people, or just generally that people will misinterpret them having a good and healthy relationship with them having an unhealthy and uncool 'relationship.' you get my drift.

On the scale from Aro/Ace-to-Allo I am so fucking far into the side of Not Experiencing Romantic or Sexual Feelings Of Any Kind that I often fear my very firm and active appreciation + inclusion of platonic affection will be taken the wrong way in. Yknow. The twins' familial context.

If it helps put it in perspective, nothing I ever write the twins doing is stuff that I wouldn't also do with close friends and family. I like platonic hand holding. I like platonic cuddles. I like being tangled in a platonic knot of limbs on the couch. I like platonic forehead kisses sometimes. Hell, I got to have a friend over for thanksgiving and I recently got a really comfortable but also large bed, and instead of banishing them to the couch I gave them a spot next to me. (it's a big fuckin bed??? it's a BIG bed. Styled to look like a couch. Very cool and much needed QoL upgrade for me) and it was probably the best and easiest night of sleep I've had in actual months. I bonk foreheads with my little brother, I hug my dad as closely to my chest as I can. So while my relationship with affection and how to show it physically is perhaps pushing the normal societally accepted expectations, it brings me a lot of joy.

And I want my art/writing to be able to express that through the twins without it having some kind of fetishized romantic connotation, because it bothers me a lot when the level of affection that I view as healthy and appropriate within platonic boundaries is Forced to be coded as romantic. (shipping family members together in general just, really makes me violently uncomfortable beyond a way i can put into words. I'm not going to go into it but there was a point in time after I had been on the internet long enough to know that it has bad/uncomfortable sides that I started distancing myself from my family IRL, and only recently started to open up again)

aw shit that ended up being long and serious. well uh, sorry. Probably not the ramble you were hoping for ;^; I care a lot about the coupled twins, and especially how close they are, so by extension it also takes me a lot of vulnerability to post about them online when I know the internet can warp and twist the things i love into something disturbing and upsetting to me. Here's to hoping that doesn't happen, but I can't really control what other people will think, say, or do. I just hope they don't get me involved :[

So, while not spoiling the "whole plot," I think it's easy for me to say that Coupled (Uncoupled) is built on an intense, unconditional love. The whole story is about love. The whole story is about how loving people is hard, about how loving someone means putting in the work to understand and know eachother. About how love can hurt you, but how real, strong love built on a foundation of trust and compassion will heal you far more than it can ever hurt you. there's a reason why the AU is named how it is.

cool I'm gonna go explode into tears about them now 🥺 im real fucked up about Coupled (Uncoupled).

(Actually I do want to note, you accidentally encouraging me to ramble about them is Also why I didn't immediately answer this ask and the next one. Because I was thinking about them so hard I couldn't actually think straight long enough to write the reply I wanted to yesterday.)

As always, thank you for the ask! 🤍 It is appreciated beyond words. Although I feel like the sheer number of words I use to answer them are pretty clear indicators of how much fun I'm having + how much this means to me

[Emmet-Black sketchbook doodle; The first time they fuse.]

Coupled (Uncoupled)Masterpost

[baldurspeen69420]

Get To Know My Tav! (Part 2: Electric Boogaloo - Sophie Edition)

I did one of these for my first BG3 OC Byron a long time ago and I've been wanting to do one for Sophie since forever, now I finally have a minute! These are just so much fun to do. Might even do my Honor Mode Githyanki next if I get around to it!

Sophie Beaumont - Half-Orc - Champion Fighter - She/Her - 31

favorite weapon: She's a built lady with the power of bonking on her side, so she tends to lean towards various hammers, clubs, maces, and blunt objects. But her favorite gear is definitely her shield to protect her teammates.

style of combat: Tackles combat with a more defensive weapon and shield style. Fighting is always a last resort even though she's skilled at it, but Sophie is someone who'd always prefer to mediate her way out of conflict when possible.

most prized possession: Her favorite childhood book of poetry. The cover is battered and the pages are yellowed, but it's filled with doodles and notes in the margins from over the years.

deepest desire: To find her place in the world and someone to share it with. She's wandered a long time feeling lost and alone, so she really just wants a new start.

guilty pleasure: Definitely has an appreciation for the more frivolous pleasures of life, which people don't usually expect from a seasoned mercenary. Enjoys chocolates, makeup, soft clothes, and a warm bath fit with salts and candles.

best-kept-secret: Under that quiet and serious disposition is a deeply lonely person who wants to be understood and seen as more than a half-orc or soldier for hire.

greatest strength: Her compassionate heart and also rippling abs. Any problem that can't be solved with empathy and communication can be solved by punching it really hard.

fatal flaw: Low self-esteem city. Struggles to see her own worth and value, which can lead to her accepting treatment that's less than what she should be receiving. Very insecure about her half-orc heritage and appearance.

favorite smell: Baking bread and fresh flowers.

favorite spell or cantrip: Sophie has never had a talent for magic and isn't particularly well-versed in it. Her experience with Gale where he shared a bit of weave with her and helped her cast a spell was her first time ever experiencing magic for herself, and is one of her fondest memories of their tadpole adventure.

pet peeve: People assuming she's uneducated, brutish, or violent due to her half-orc heritage. She's so used to being called all kinds of things to the degree it hardly registers in the moment, but every comment still cuts and stings.

bad habit: Has accustomed herself to self-sacrifice and receiving very little in return. Doesn't expect much from anyone which can cause her to be distrustful of others intentions. Very much a mindset of "expect the worst" minus the flipside of hoping for the best.

hidden talent: A surprisingly skilled needleworker. Spent a lot of time shut away in her home growing up, and sewing/embroidery was one of the only things she and her mother did together that gave them common ground.

leisure activity: Tends to run low on social battery and go off on her own later in the day at camp. Reads, tailors her clothes, and writes poetry when no one is around. Spends a lot of time in the mornings training and keeping fit, however. Enjoys sparring with Karlach in particular since her intensity and aggressive fighting style keeps Sophie on her toes.

favorite drink: Loves a cup of warm milk with cinnamon and chamomile, not a treat she gets to enjoy often.

comfort food: She's spent a lot of time on the road eating rabbit and roughage, so any chance to indulge in sweets from the city is a blessing from the gods. Pastries filled with chocolate or cream are her favorites!

favorite person: Gale and her grew very close throughout their journey together, but she's also good friends with Wyll and Karlach. Halsin's flirtations (while flattering and flustering in equal measure) were eventually gently turned down in favor of the affections of the camp wizard and resident chef.

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): She's a romantic at heart but definitely prefers simple gestures when around others. Basic things like holding hands make her warm inside. She hasn't had someone before who's proud to be with her, so even small displays of affection in public are a change of pace and very welcome.

fondest childhood memory: Her childhood was definitely not a happy one by any stretch, but she'll always remember the first day she snuck away to go past the walls of Baldur's Gate for a festival. After seeing the city from its outskirts for so long, even being in the lower city was nothing short of magical. She realized how much of the world she hadn't experienced and how much was truly out there beyond her distant mother and childhood home.

Just putting out a tag to @kelandrin to see this post because they've always been a number 1 Sophie fan and their asks have meant so much to me in the past 🥺