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somnambulic-thing · 11 months

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Doch ahnst du auch wie tief sich meine Seele im Ozean deines Haars verfängt?

musician!Eddie x afab!reader

nsfw E 18+ piv, pegging, crying, hair pulling :3

The 90s come around and Eddie is entering his alternative Metal/Rock phase and starts growing out his bangs.

just some sloppy horny thoughts about Eddie and his hair, (started as a note, turned into a drabble, very probably messy, but it got the job done)

His hair reaches the middle of his back and it's the way he runs his hand through the front part to get it out of the way while his fingers strum a heavy gloomy melody, just to slowly slide back into his face mere moments later, that has you hypnotized in this small shitty club with sticky floors and sticky walls.

He keeps doing it after the gig, seated at the bar, roots sweaty and tips a little tangled and you can't decide if you want to comb the small knots out with your fingers or grab a fist full near his scalp to hold him in place while he keeps hypnotizing you with those tattooed knuckles between your legs.

You get to do both when you take him home with you that night; silky strands of chestnut spilling out your fist, as you pull his head back as far as his tendons allow to bite at that thick salty neck while you ride him into oblivion.

It forms ever-changing ornaments on your belly and chest as Eddie bents over you, holding your legs spread wide as he fucks you deep and slow and dragging, taking his time to unravel you while you keep making a tangled a mess out of this ocean of hair with your trembling hands.

You loop it all around your fist, once, twice and his pretty back bends for you, beads of sweat collecting in the dip of his spine as you line up that toy with his hole, holding him tight as you slide past the ring of muscle and listen to him whine your name. Eddie has been mouthy the whole night but as you sink into him again and again and again and faster and faster, faster and deeper and as you push him further down and change the angle of your thrusts his words stumble and hitch and his begging flows as one endless word and you keep going, keep wrecking him until his words run dry, replaced by hard-pressed panting and guttural moans and soft soft whimpering. You release his hair and let him slump against the sheets. You slow the movement of your hips and reach around and down to find his hot heavy cock waiting to be touched and as you stroke him slowly, fuck him slowly, Eddie starts to writhe and twitch and whine and he comes long and hard inside your fist.

“I drooled on your sheets,” he mumbles, spent and slack, his cheek squished against your chest. “Might be drooling on your tits right now.”

Your fingers gently comb his hair, gently scratch his scalp, soothing every ache left behind. “No might about it,” you chuckle. “Don’t worry, goes well with the cum.”

“And the tears,” he adds and sighs and looks up at you. “Can’t believe you made me cry.”

A strand of hair falls into his face, you don’t brush it back this time. “I can’t believe I didn’t get to see it.”

He smiles and sighs and dips his head to kiss your mouth, then looks into your eyes. “Then let me spread my legs for you next time.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #shortfic #somnambulic-thing #my fic

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larentsfilm · 4 months

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Breakfast With Dad 🍳🥞

“Quando a escola de Elio anuncia o evento de café da manhã com o pai como parte de suas atividades, ele se prepara para ter um dia ruim. É uma surpresa quando Louis, um voluntário, aparece para almoçar com ele.

Agora ele precisa bolar um plano para juntá-lo com sua mãe: Harry.”

⚠️ Contém: momrry / kid fic / embora tecnicamente seja um pré-adolescente / louddy / harry é mãe solteira / louis é mais novo / diferença de idade / harry!bottom / louis!top / breeding kink / mpreg / found family / h com pronomes masculinos e femininos / domestic fluff.

Leia “Breakfast With Dad” no meu wattpad @larentsfilm! Uma fanfic com muito momrry e louddy!

#ao3 #fanfics #larry stylinson #ao3 writer #gay #harry bottom #harry styles #louis tomlinson #louis tops #enemies to lovers #momrry #louddy #shortfic #larry

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tavyliasin · 3 months

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BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 4

Just a shorter one today as I've been a smudge busy, but here's day 4! Shortfic below the cut~ ----- -----

Day 4 - The rest of the companions heard Tav/Durge going at it

“Tchk, do they not know the whole woods can hear them?” Lae’zel winced at the latest echo of a moan from the trees, trying to focus on sharpening her blade without slicing through her own finger in the process.

Gale tried in vain to stare harder at his book, as if reading the words loud enough in his head might drown them out. “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of paper to scribe out Zone of Silence for them. You’d think they might make the effort to learn one bloody spell so we can get a night’s sleep-”

“Was that a tree breaking? Gods I hope they’re not bringing the place down around them.” Wyll looked as concerned as he was flustered, sorting through the supplies in his pack like it was the most interesting task in the world. “What I’d do for a house with some thick walls right now.”

“I think it’s cute.” Karlach grinned, her heart glowing slightly. “At least someone is getting some action around here.”

“If they don’t stop getting action I shall be asking Lady Shar to wipe these memories from my head too.” Shadowheart groaned, standing to walk back to her tent. “I’m going to at least try to get some sleep, I suggest you all do the same. You know they’re all elves, right?”

“Ah of course, Halsin, Astarion, our fearless leader,” Gale’s words were punctuated by a distinctly loud cry from the aforementioned leader that anyone else might’ve mistaken for distress. “They’ll get just as much rest from their trance as we could be getting if it wasn’t too loud to sleep.” He directed his grumble to the treeline, as if the foliage might pass on his displeasure at the disturbance.

“Do you think they’d notice if I-”

“Karlach, sit back down, you are not going out there to spy on them.” Wyll put a hand on her elbow, pulling her back down to sit beside him.

“I wasn’t going to ask if I could join in or anything.” She complained. “You never let me have any fun.”

“I would hardly describe being an unwelcome pair of eyes to the affairs of those three as fun, istik.” Lae’zel put her sword aside, satisfied it would be sharp enough to deal with any enemies in the morning. “You should follow the secretive one’s lead and get some sleep, our foes will not hesitate to slice open your gut should you pause to yawn.”

“That…does not paint a particularly pleasant picture.” Gale closed his book, standing to return to his tent, resolving himself to cast silence on himself once he got there. “Remind me not to ask for any Githyanki bedtime stories next time we’re around the fire this late.”

“I don’t think the Gith even do bedtime stories.” Wyll shrugged, looking towards Lae’zel’s tent.

“We do, actually, and a simple gut-stabbing would be considered too weak even for a helpless babe.” Her voice hissed from behind the canvas. With everyone else gone, Wyll and Karlach lingered a little longer by the fire, sharing a quiet laugh at the idea of Lae’zel as a toddler with an oversized sword complaining that her bedtime stories weren’t gory enough.

“What about you, Karlach? Any fairytales, or at least good stories until we get peace enough to rest?” The warlock’s smile was disarming as usual. “I’m afraid all I can offer are the worn out classics, and they don’t seem to hold the same charm as they used to. Hard to imagine a dashing prince running off to play the hero and sweep a fair maiden off her feet when I look like this.”

“I don’t know, you look princely enough to me. And I’m not just saying that because I’ve spent years in Avernus surrounded by actual bloody demons, either.” She shuffled a little, her restless tail and glowing chest betraying her thoughts as usual. “The stories I have in my head now aren’t really suitable for children at bedtime.”

“Lucky for us, we aren’t children.” Wyll sidled just a little closer, looking up at bright eyes that widened as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I might not have a coin to hand to give you, but I would love to hear your thoughts.”

#bg3ficfeb #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #wyll ravengard #karlach #bg3 tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #shadowheart #Halsin #Astarion #bg3 companions #shortfic

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darkslayers-bride · 2 months

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“is this.. for me?.” Your eyes flicked up to him, standing there stiff, face completely red, holding out a small bundle of various [F/C] coloured flowers towards you.

His eyes which have been glued to his feet the entire time, looked up to you just briefly to give you a light nod.

You smiled, and gently took the flowers from his hands. You stared at it in awe examining the each of the flowers, clearly hand arranged by the lack of consistency between the types of flowers and size. He did this himself, he did this for you. Your heart fluttered

“Uh.. sorry it’s nothing special, I really didn’t know what to do..” he mumbled, switching between watching you through his lashes and fidgeting with his hands.

You ignored his comment for just a moment, plucking a single flower from the bunch, then turning your attention on him.

You reached over and gingerly tilted his chin up to look at you, his eyes wide watching you and glittering in curiosity, you gently planted the [F/C] bloom in his hair.

“It’s perfect, and It’s very special, Genya.” You replied, finally.

It took him a few seconds to process what had happened, he fluttered his eyes, then he slowly reached up and touched the petals, his eyes then shyly drifted down to your smiling form.

You giggled “Silly Genya. if you’re that worried about doing this right, then next thing to do would be to take me on a date, right?.“

His eyes lit up “Y-Yes!!.” He nodded along with his words, the flower nearly coming flying out of his hair.

I come bearing crumbs!, not great but not my worst I guess , dunno, I can only write when I’m exhausted apparently.

#Luciana writes 🎀🗡️#also in case you didn’t know [F/C] means favorite colour. took me awhile to figure that out lmao-#genya shinazugawa x reader #Kny x reader #shortfic

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thehollowwriter · 4 months

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hiii i’m here to heal the fandom with your rollo x reader goodness :))

admittedly i don’t send in requests that often so i’m not sure how detailed or vague the prompt should be but—in true glomas fashion, how about rollo just enjoying a dance with the reader? maybe the two get lost in their own little world within the ballroom, looking into each other’s eyes as they hold each other… haha

feel free to write/add on whatever your heart desires for this one tho <3

What are you doing awake

This is cute! Dw, you asked just fine!

Summary: You and Rollo dance together during the Masquerade

Warnings: None

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

Eyes Only For You

'I should be ensuring everything is going smoothly.' Rollo's head was spinning. 'I shouldn't be dancing right now.'

He tried to get his mind back on track, to no avail. He could not tear his eyes from yours.

Every echo of chatter, every feeling over other dancers brushing against him, every visage of the crowd and the lights fell away bit by bit until it was only the two of you with eyes for no one but each other.

Those brilliant eyes of yours remained fixed on his, your eyes crinkling as you smiled a smile as bright as the sun.

Rollo's heart, beating so fast he feared it may burst from his chest, skipped a beat and his face and ears turned warm.

Your dance was slow and careful, afraid to make a mistake, glancing down at your feet and worriedly tightening your grip on him.

Rollo didn't mind. If you were to fall, he would catch you.

The two of them twirled across the dance floor in an elegant dance, completely engrossed in one another.

Quiet by nature, Rollo was unsure if he should say something about the flurry of emotions swirling inside of him. If he did, he was unsure of what to say.

He knew, however, that he felt a sense of happiness with you. A peace. A belonging.

When the music faded and the dance came to an end, you slowed to a stop and the world began to make itself known once again.

Rollo glanced around at the crowd and lights and decorations, wincing. When he felt you move away from him, his hand shot out to gently hold your wrist.

"Please," Rollo's voice quivered, just barely above a whisper. "Stay with me."

You paused for a moment. "Of course," You said, smiling at him. "I'd love to."

Rollo's heart leapt once more.

......................................

A/N: Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed! I've never written Rollo before please have mercy Q-Q

#rollo flamme x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rollo flamme #rollo flamm #twisted wonderland #writing #fluff #shortfic

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doitforstamets · 2 years

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Hob has a song stuck in his head so he sings it out loud one night;

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

Dream appears out of thin air.

“You called?”

#cringe but so cute #*#dreamling #dream x hob #short fic #shortfic #morpheus x hob #the sandman

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saiikavon · 5 months

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(Idk I just had an image and I needed it.)

There’s a wildfire spreading through his body. Heat in his cheeks, his chest, his groin. It scorches his flesh, makes him feel like he’s exhaling smoke on every breath. But it’s still better than the minutes, hours, days before big hands on his hips and plush lips sealed against his own. Before, he’d been drowning in emptiness.

Kissing Jounouchi is like coming up for air. His heart pounds and his head spins, but he wants for nothing else.

His fingers wrinkle the fabric at the back of Jounouchi’s shirt. His hips jerk forward as though out of his own control as sharp teeth nibble at his bottom lip. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants Jounouchi to keep feeding the living flame raging inside him.

If it burns them both to ash, so be it.

#ygo #puppyshipping #violetshipping #shortfic #makeouts

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rollerskatinglizard · 4 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Motorcity (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Mike Chilton Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Angst, Post-Finale Summary: Mike doesn’t dream about the cell.

Words: 386

#motorcity #fanfic #i wrote a thing #shortfic #angst #first fic I've posted this year!! feels good man

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keehlmyself · 4 months

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mello & matt's christmas shenanigans!

this post will include: matt & mello

— this can be interpretated however you like; romantic or platonic.

"Merry Christmas, asshole." Matt teases.

"It's the 23rd."

Matt and Mello are sat in the living room. Mello was sprawled out on the couch, legs up and boots planted against the coffee table, and Matt sat a few feet from him in a beanbag.

It had been a long time since they spent a christmas together. 6 years, 7? Mello would rather not think about the time they missed.

There's awkward tension. They look at eachother for a moment, unsure how to continue their conversation. Mello averts his gaze and looks out to the window — Beyond all those gloomy grey buildings and the busy street, he could see a carpet of white along the road.

"It's snowing." He comments, trying to break the silence.

"Wow, really, I would've never known." Matt lets out an amused exhale in response.

Mello shoots him a glare. Matt doesn't react negatively. Instead, he chooses to move things forward.

He pulls himself up from the beanbag chair, "Remember a few days ago when we saw a Santa Claus at the mall?"

It was a strange question, Mello thought. But He remembered. He remember laughing under his breath as he watched a tired middle-aged man talk to children in costume. He remembered nudging Matt's arm and going, 'imagine if we ended up like that?'

Suddenly, it occurs to him why Matt was asking in the first place.

Mello's eyes narrow, "No. No, we are not going to meet Santa Claus. I swear to god, you're always trying to get me to do stupid shi—"

Matt bursts into laughter, all the while trying to convince his bestfriend.

"No! No, hold on, hear me out, the photos would be funny, no?"

"Funny how?! Because Santa Claus is gonna be sat next to two stunted teenagers, one of which has half of his face melted off?!"

"Yes."

There's another minute of silence.

Next thing they knew, they were driving to the mall in Matt's car.

#death note #dn #death note fanfiction #shortfic #mello #mello death note #mihael keehl #matt #matt death note #mail jeevas #mellomatt #mattmello #mellodramattic #m2 #christmas #christmas fic

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whyistarchaser · 5 months

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Marauders’ House ! Jegulus au

Just Jegulus being little darlings <3

“Music for a Sushi Restaurant” is the opening song to The Marauders' third studio album, Marauders' House. In a combination of smooth jazz and freaky ‘70s pop, Potter (writer of the song) sings about making sushi while relating it to his desire for a relationship. In a May 2022 interview in The Valkyries podcast, the lead singer revealed the story behind the funky song:

"I was in a sushi restaurant in LA with someone and one of our songs came on from the last album, and the person I was with pointed out that it was a "weird song for a sushi restaurant" which obviously lead to an argument and ended on this perfect song for "those type of restaurants".

see the lyrics of the song here.

"Hey!" exclaimed James excitedly, tapping Regulus’s outstretched hand to get his attention "Do you hear that, baby? They’re playing Canyon Moon!"

At Regulus' request, both had decided to go out for dinner. Regulus hadn’t stopped talking for weeks about a restaurant he had visited with Dorcas, and finally after so much insistence, he had managed to drag James to a round table in the far corner of that tiny restaurant.

James will never admit it out loud, because it would feed her boyfriend’s obsession, but he too had fallen in love with the place the second he put his foot in it. "I hear it, yes," Regulus replied, rolling his eyes without looking away from the posters hanging from the ceiling, apparently today’s menu, as the waitress explained, "Sirius couldn’t be more obvious, "Canyon Moon"?"

Quick pause in conversation

He plays songs I've never heard

An old lover's hippie music

Pretends not to know the words

And I keep thinking back to

A time under the canyon moon

After singing quietly along, James laughed while leaning on the table, glancing at the ceiling to look at the menu himself, "When has Sirius been subtle?"

“Touché” said Regulus, making James whisper “hot” under his breath right before the waitress came to their table to take their orders.

After the sweet lady left, Regulus looked around checking the restaurant before leaning on the table to whisper to James “To be honest, I don’t think this is a fitting song for this type of restaurant” An offended gasp left James’ lips, and he smacked Regulus’ shoulder gently.

“How very dare you”

“You’re gonna tell me that I’m wrong?”

“Of course, our songs fit into any sort of environment”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think so” a bratty tone tint Regulus words, leaning onto the back of his chair, crossing his arms with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

“You’re mean”

“I just pointed out a fact. Not every song you guys do fit anywhere, especially not this little and pretty restaurant, it’s a weird song for a sushi restaurant”

“I bet I can change your mind with a song. In fact, I will write a song that fits this restaurant so well that you’ll be embarrassed by what you just said”

“Oh will you now?”

“Hell yeah, before our food comes, I will have the perfect song”

Regulus laughed a bit too hard for that, giving James the perfect view of his pale collarbones under that slim t-shirt. James arched an eyebrow, ready to challenge his boyfriend’s attitude,

“You don’t think I can do that?”

"Of course I don’t think you can write a song before our food comes" said Regulus with a witty tone, sharing a small smile with James who looked too cocky by now.

"Is that a challenge, my love?"

"You bet it is" a cheeky smile spread across Regulus' face. James felt his heart racing.

So, for a whole half hour, James kept writing and re-writing a whole song he finishes five seconds before they have their food on the table. And when he shares the lyrics with his boyfriend, the only comment Regulus says is:

"You have the imagination of a three-year-old”.

Two months later, James was in the studio recording "Music For a Sushi Restaurant", with Remus' bass track in the background and the background vocals recorded before by Sirius and Peter complementing his vocals in the chorus. Regulus’s laughter penetrated his track even from outside the booth, making James smile broadly at Sirius grimaced.

If the stars were edible

And our hearts were never full

Could we live with just a taste?

Just taste

It’s 'cause I love you, babe

In every kind of way

Just a little taste

Know I love you, babe

Not even the high volume of the trumpets dampened the scandalous cry of Sirius, who pounced on the microphone of their producer.

"We are so over, James Potter!"

Regulus smacked his brother on the side, starting a nasty sibling fist fight.

James never felt so alive.

#james potter #jegulus #regulus black #starchaser #the marauders #wolfstar #remus lupin #marauders #sirius black #harry styles #mfasr #sirius would insist on being the siren of the mv #shortfic #running au #harry potter #i love a bratty regulus #and a “it's hot when u speak french” james potter

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somnambulic-thing · 9 months

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Boom pt I

I just wrote this. (Instead of working on my 4000wips but what else is new?) It's totally random and silly and that was exactly what I needed today.

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Words: 694 ||Contentwarnings: implication of violent moshpit, Eddie's elbow to readers face (he's so sorry), bruising, mention of various explosives, strangers to stupidly enamoured strangers, hurt/comfort I guess?, fluff I guess?, meet cute if you're into that sorta thing?||

One moment, you’re screaming kicking jumping your heart out in a moshpit and in the next, your cheekbone explodes.

Well, at least that's how it feels.

“Shitshitshitshiiiit,” chants the dynamite into the break between two songs. “So sorry, shit, you okay? Hey, hey, can you look at me?”

You can and you do, reluctantly removing your hand from your face. Mr Gunpowder stares at you with wide dark eyes out of a hot, sweaty face that also looks like explosives; with his sharp drippy jaw and sensual mouth and oh, he’s biting his full, pink bottom lip now in another attempt to blow your head up. Okay, yeah, it’s more a worried than a steamy gesture but holy shit; if that’s what he looks like worried, you want to devastate him.

“How bad is it?”

He scrunches up his adorable nose. “Already bruising—“

‘LET’S MAKE THIS A BLOOD BATH!’ the frontman shouts and counts in his drummer.

“Nope!” TNT-guy says, loops his sticky arm under yours and pulls you through the crowd faster than the blast beat.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

“BAR! ICE!”

—

You sigh with relief as the cold sinks into your hot, throbbing cheek and you have to close your eyes because you’re a bit dizzy and you’re not sure if it’s caused by the smack in the head or by Nitroglycerin Incarnate who’s gently holding a bundle of ice cubes wrapped in a dishtowel to your face.

Whatever it is, you thank the universe for adrenaline.

“I’m so so sorry!” he says for the hundredth time, then you feel his fingers brush your sweaty hair behind your ear. “Let me know when you feel sick? You want some water? I’m sooo sorry.”

“It’s alright!”

“No, noooo, it’s not—“

“It’s a grindcore show, Granade-boy. Shit like that happens—“

“What— what did you call me?”

You could swear the confusion in his voice is laced with a smirk but it’s still plenty loud here at the bar so you open your eyes.

So he has dimples too.

“What I was saying,” you deflect and your face stings when you smile, “don’t beat yourself up over this… One black eye is enough for one night!”

He tilts his head back and groans. You shiver and mentally mark five mouth-watering spots where you want to bite his neck before he looks back at you; totally heartbroken. “Too soon!”

“Wait! Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Yes! Exactly,” he shakes his head, a soft smile contrasting the furrowed brows. “You’re way too cool about the fact that some asshole just nearly cracked your skull with his elbow.”

“Exploded,” you explain casually.

“W-what?”

“That’s what it felt like on impact.”

“Ah,” a satisfied noise, smooth, warm. “Granade-boy. Now I get it. Can cross this out as a sign of concussion then.” He carefully removes the ice from your face to look at the bruise. Tilting his head, his eyes rest heavy on your cheek before his gaze travels to your eyes and won’t leave again; it’s galvanic, sends a current down your spine that forces your ribs to expand and your pelvis to twitch on the barstool he ordered you to sit on. “It’s Eddie.”

Eddie takes a step closer, the damp fabric of his shirt ghosting your knees and brings the ice slowly back to your skin, wincing when you do. Sorry, he mouthes silently and breaks into a wide, toothy smile when you roll your eyes playfully.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Unbelievable.” The residual red of exertion and excitement on his cheeks deepens again. “Really nice to meet you too... badass bitch.”

Your laugh is a hearty bark; it also hurts but, oh my, is it worth it when Eddie joins you with his smooth, deep cackle. He doesn't stop, even when you lean back, chuckling and moaning, to hold your cheek. His stomach meets your knees, the ice clinks softly as he drops it to the counter. He’s gently holding on to your shoulders, his right hand cold and wet against your skin. “Too soon?” he smirks and you laugh out again.

“What’s your name?” he asks and swallows hard, repeating your name after you like it's a charm. “Can I buy you pizza?”

“They have pizza here?”

“No.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #shortfic #my fic

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practically-an-x-man · 10 days

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Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)

Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.

____

"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."

Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.

All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.

She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.

"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"

"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"

"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."

"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."

Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.

"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"

"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"

"I dunno. Seems like fun."

"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.

He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.

"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.

"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."

His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.

That one made him feel good.

He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.

"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."

"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.

There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.

Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.

"Julius?"

The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.

"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."

"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."

"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."

That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.

"Try me."

But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.

The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.

Eris had a type.

Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.

The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.

It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.

"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.

He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.

Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.

"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.

It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.

"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."

Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.

"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.

"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."

Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.

"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."

With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.

"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."

"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."

"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."

Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.

"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.

"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."

Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.

"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."

Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.

"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."

Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.

In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.

He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.

"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."

"I love you too, wartime."

#my ocs #oc eris #my writing #oneshot #shortfic #the suicide squad #rick flag #oc x canon #light angst #happy ending

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tavyliasin · 4 months

Text

Switch Professor Gale Drabble

Just a warmup request while I'm working on a few other things~ Don't worry more proper chapters soon! I'm tapping away over here quite happily. In the meantime, have some Switch vibes with Professor Dekarios to keep you fed~

It had been a long day, by any standards, and the stack of papers was not making it any shorter. Gale rubbed at the furrow between his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose. His assistant was not making this any easier for him. They were supposedly working quietly, but he felt their eyes on him every few minutes, a light blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks as he realised they were undressing him with their lewd little glances. “Could you please just let me concentrate?!” He stood up, uncharacteristically loud as his hands almost shook the floor as well as the desk with the force he slammed down. His assistant, however, just looked up at him innocently. “Professor Dekarios? Is something the matter?” “You know very well what the problem is, my dear. We have an entire night ahead of us if you don’t concentra-” He stopped mid sentence as he saw them gesturing to their piles of papers, the “in” tray far emptier than the “out”. “Oh? I was going to be finished in less than an hour. Do you need help, Professor? Is something troubling you?” Their smirk was ever more infuriating. “Come here.” He demanded, the usual professional veneer completely falling away to several kinds of frustration that had been building for hours. They sauntered around the edge of their desk, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. However… “If you have time to talk back then you have time to put your mouth to better use.” “I thought you’d never ask,” they replied, their confidence refusing to give way to the commanding aura he was so desperately trying to project. Sometimes it worked, and they submitted to him most willingly, but this time… He felt a familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach as his assistant grabbed the edge of his robes by his neck pulling his ear close to their lips. “I thought you were the one who was going to teach me more vocabulary lessons, Professor. You know how keen a student I am and I learn so much better from a practical demonstration.” They hooked their foot behind his legs and pressed on his shoulder with immaculate timing, bringing him to his knees in an instant with a whimper. The last attempt to maintain control slipped away, as the assistant stripped away their clothing, leaving only a lustful hunger in its wake. One which Gale was more than happy to indulge in as he grabbed their hips and moved closer to claim his prize.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #professor gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #sub gale #dom gale #switch gale #drabble #shortfic

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